#though some tech is attractive to me

[seaside-lovers-archive]

hmm. what if i fell under objectum. more in a weird "idk if this is physical or romantic attraction but objects are cute" sort of way.

the 'tism makes it hard to figure out exactly how i feel toward something though tbh.

[d1anna]

@ PRETTY BALLET GIRL! DO YOU LIKE GIRLS???? LIKE ME?????

[amazinglyashy]

hi hi~ i have a silly request if you're interested (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can i request the lads men's (pre-relationship) reaction to the reader introducing them to their boyfriend? but plot twist... its a fictional virtual boyfriend! just like the game love and deepspace LOL who would get jealous? who would have beef with a fictional man?? /JK

PS: im not sure how to say this properly but u like, write them so attractively 😵 if that makes sense, like the little quirks u give them and the dialogue, whoo weeeee 100/10!

This made me laugh because I still remember introducing my bf to my Obey Me boyfriends and kept trying to figure out which one was the most like him so he could buy me merch of them and push his personal agenda. Sadly none of them are like him, but now that I play LDS, Rafayel sure is! Thank you for the request! I had fun with this one! (And oh my gosh, that's such a compliment!! Thank you so so much, it means a lot!!)

Pre-relationship LaDS men react to your fictional game partner

Rafayel -

Who would have beef with a fictional man?

Rafayel would have beef with a fictional man.

He did not wait centuries for you, searching high and low for his lost love in every dark alley and bad idea that came across him- to lose to a bunch of pixels on a tech screen.

Truthfully, he knows it's all in good fun, and he's not completely jealous. He's actually pretty glad you found a nice outlet that helps you with relieving stress from you day to day. He knows you need it.

He's just... going to be now competing secretly with a fictional figure.

He thinks its secret.

You know what he's doing.

Why else would he be asking you what the latest event is in your game with your fictional partner, and then miraculously a week later you're receiving the very same things or experiences in reality on your day off?

He's not slick at all, and honestly, you find it pretty endearing.

But also, something you won't ever consider- is maybe he's doing those things for you, not only to make you happy, but to show you just how much attention he pays to the things you tell him about.

That's okay.

You don't need to know that part.

Zayne -

Zayne is not at all threatened by whoever this 'Jumim Hen' guy is.

Yes he is mispronouncing it on purpose. No he will not correct himself until he's gotten enough humor out of it and frustrated you enough about it.

Once that happens, he'll start pronouncing it correctly and if confronted about his change in pronunciation, he will pretend you need a wellness check and request you make an appointment with his secretary.

Smooth way to spend more time with you while subtlety calling you crazy.

He mostly does just think it's cute, though.

He will buy you food from places that might be having game events that get you special merchandise or in-game prizes, even if you don't realize there's a surprise event happening because it wasn't advertised in your game.

No, he's not weird and expects you to stop playing once the two of you start dating. He realizes it's something you enjoy a lot, and he actually finds a lot of pleasure in listening to you ramble about situations that are happening in your game.

He finds most things you do endearing.

Sylus -

You're giggling over it, that's all the matters to him.

He is rubbing the bridge of his nose though, because you had been building up to this moment for over a week and he was convinced you were going to show him an actual psychopath or something and he was going to have to figure out a way to make the man disappear without you realizing it was Sylus's doing.

He probably won't make any vague comments about how your fictional boyfriend is strangely similar to himself and that maybe you have a type.

Probably.

(He will make one per day.)

(At least.)

Once you're dating him, he has some access to your device and the game, simply so that he can reload your currency whenever you go to sleep. He doesn't want you to run out, and he knows you love playing. What else is his money good for if not for making you smile?

Doesn't understand it, but he does make mental notes of your current progress in the storyline and which characters you like. But sometimes he'll pretend to forget an important detail.

He loves hearing you babble about anything, after all.

Xavier -

He was a bit confused at first, but figured out what was going on rather quickly.

He thinks it's adorable, like when he first found out how much you love claw machines and the plushies inside of them. He doesn't see it as much different- the love interests are your plushies in the game, and your fictional partner is your favorite "plushie".

Easy.

Xavier has lowkey cosplayed your game boyfriend at least once, acting innocent about it and as if it was completely unintentional.

If you're dating by then, he lets you 'borrow' the clothes, so now you have an article from your game, but it also smells like he does. He's only allowed them back once they lose their scent.

He only accepts gratitude and payment for the favor of wearing them again in the form of snuggling with him on the couch, his arms wrapped up around you as he nuzzles into your neck.

He needs your "help" for a little bit.

It's the least you can do.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #24: The Midwest Prince(ss)

Danny is a Singer/Siren/Banshee au where he’s basically a Chappel Roan-type figure.( Also, I'm Dead on Main trash so Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers, Celebrity x Civilian romance for two of my favorite boys)

Danny’s Ghostly Wail develops into vocal manipulation bc he’s a siren or banshee. Ember teaches him to sing and control the power. He finds music is a good outlet for his emotions and decides to pursue music as Danny. It takes him a few years but he develops a style and brand that he bases off the Realms. However, he doesn’t anyone to connect him to Phantom so he uses parts of his ancestors’ names to become “Walker Gale”(shout out to my beautiful mutual @mirigold-mayflowers for helping me pick that name), ordinary small-town midwestern boy turned Music Icon. He hires Val as his personal bodyguard, Sam as his manager, and Tucker as his head stage tech.

He dresses in really campy clothes the low-key mimic his ghost form as well as other ghosts he’s met. The outfits change to match the vibe of the song. So a rock ballad with an outfit inspired by Ember, Show Tunes-Murder Mystery-type-beat with a costume for Amorpho, EDM-techno-hyperpop themed song styled after Technus or Skulker, etc. He just has a lot of fun experimenting with his appearance and he’s an icon for it. He even makes friends with Star and Paulina through this and they give him feedback and help with new looks. The eventually join the team as his PR and Styling team.

Since he’s a banshee/siren all his songs have this underlying despair/sadness even if they have a fun and bubbly beat. He also references his feelings about being/hiding as Phantom and being partially dead and shit but vaguely so no one actually knows or assumes it’s a metaphor. Many of the themes are actually things lgbtq people identify with, specifically trans and bi fans. He also references battles he’s fought and ppl assumes he’s talking about mental illness or abuse which attracts another category of fans altogether. Again inspired by Chappel Roan his first album his called "The Ascent and Downfall of a Midwest Prince" gaining him the nickname the "Midwest Prince".

He’s weird and unfiltered and full of emotion and he gains a few fans in the hero community too. Raven and Zatanna start a fan club for him, well aware he’s some type of banshee/siren but knowing that the extent of his powers are being used to deliver beautiful performances. The are staunch supporters of him and his music and spread it to their friends. The current fan club is Co-Presidents Zatanna + Raven, VP Greta(Secret, a.k.a: a ghost hero), Starfire, Bart, Cassie, Tim, Kon + Jon, Steph, Cass, and Billy.

His identifying features are a signature make-up look and white underdye (when the color is on the underside of the hair). He’s grown his hair longer so it’s not super visible when he has it down and not styled. He also looks different without make-up so he can totally go unrecognized in public and live life semi-normal (as normal as a half-ghost vigilante powerhouse superstar can be). He actually planned it to be that way so that he could still go to college and stuff even though he’s doing it mostly online. All this to say that Danny has low-key got a Hannah Montana thing going on. Also, let's mix it up a bit and say he's based in Star City.

One day Danny goes to a second-hand book store because he's looking for a cheap textbook when he bumps into an absolute hunk of a man who doesn't seem to recognize him. Jason had been in Star City to visit Roy and Lian. He stopped at a second-hand bookstore to see if he look for some older editions of books (one time he found a second edition copy of Persuasion so he likes to peruse) and ran into a super pretty boy who made his chest feel funny and doesn't realize he's a Wayne. They got to talking about started really connecting. They decided to exchange numbers and kept in touch, meeting up every now and then when they had the chance. Danny gave him his private social media accounts so Jason never learned much more beyond that Danny worked in the music industry but not his exact role in it.

Eventually Danny moves to Gotham, either bc he switched labels or to be closer to Jazz whose doing her doctorate thesis on reforms that need to be made in Arkham. He and Jason begin meeting up in person more frequently and start catching feelings. Danny really wants to ask him out but feels sleazy doing it without telling Jason about his past and superstar alter ego. However, he also doesn't want to lose the mostly normal friendship they have. On the flipside Jason wants to date Danny but doesn't want to drag him into the life of a vigilante or the life of a Wayne. Both of them Pine and Agonize over this. In the end Danny decides to bite the bullet and tell Jason who he is, every part of who he is. He invites Jason over for a movie night and tells him he's got something important to tell Jason.

That same day Starfire decides to introduce Walker Gale's work to the other Outlaws and Jason really resonates with his work. He identifies with the lyrics on a literal and physical level and recognizes the underlying emotions that usually only other ghosts or liminals can. Starfire overjoyed that her friend likes his music decides to show Jason some of his music videos and photos. Jason, not being blind or an idiot, recognizes not only the props and costumes but his crushes face under that (very well done) make-up.

Jason is stunned and conflicted: it’s not like Danny lied to him about who he was, but he was entirely truthful either. Did he assume Jason knew? Or did he just not trust Jason? Why did he even bother with Jason, a seemingly regular guy, if he had such a claim to fame? And Jason keeps listening to his music and it’s speaks to him the same way hanging out with Danny does, making him feel seen and connected. It makes him all the more sure that someone incredible as Danny doesn’t need someone like Jason. He heads to Danny’s place that night very subdued.

He gets to Danny’s place and the smile that greets him twists him up inside. He puts on a mask and tries to act normal but Danny can tell somethings up but persists as he has made up his mind to be clear with Jason. He sits him down and tells him there is something important he wants to tell Jason. He starts by letting Jason know that he cares about him very much and appreciates the normality and closeness of their friendship. He confesses that he doesn't normally get that bc well, he's the superstar "Walker Gale". Danny goes onto say that the reason he didn't say anything earlier was because he treasures the simplicity of what he had with Jason and the reason he's telling him now is because he couldn't continue a relationship that he wants more from without being completely honest.

Jason's heart thunders in his chest and he stares at Danny with a slightly constipated look. Danny asks Jason what's wrong and on an impulse Jason word vomits his feelings. That he actually found out through a friend earlier today, that he really connected to his music the same way he did with Danny, that he's never felt seen the way Danny sees through him, that he's never felt the same way as deeply before, that he's completely and utterly in love with Danny but was scared to say anything and get him involved with his crazy life and the Waynes. And Danny sits and listens shellshocked.

And the only thing Danny can think to do is kiss this incredible boy senseless and tell him that if he likes him back then they can figure it out.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

It was Captain’s turn to host poker night, and that meant everyone got to be in his nice house out in the suburbs. His Missus normally made them some nice snacks. She'd chat with them for a bit, but then after, she would leave the four of them to their own devices. Kyle thought she was nice. When he met her, she was indeed wearing blonde hair but went with the popular Créme Brulé color. She certainly was the type his Captain would attract, classy, sophisticated, a little crazy but not much, and she ran a tight ship.

She was hanging around, though, clearly waiting for someone. No bother, it wasn't any of Kyle's business. The front door opened up, to the sound of another woman squealing. There's fast talking and laughing, and Kyle is a little confused because traditionally, poker night has always been guy's night. Still no worries, as Price's Missus was saying that the bar was set up downstairs.

"Where's your little crash out?" The Missus say as her and her friend walk by.

The friend is sporting a deep body wave cherry Coca-Cola hairstyle that goes down right to her waist. She's dressed in all black, pretty gold hoops in her ears and other gold chains and belts wrapped around her waist. "Oh, he's coming. He's finishing up a cigarette and he will be right in."

Kyle looks over at Soap "Did Cap say he was inviting other people?"

Soap shrugged his shoulders, "Ah donnae ken so?" He was watching the woman closely, "But she's bonnie."

The front door opens up, and Kyle is expecting this mystery man to waltz in but is surprised to see Simon. Okay, still no bother, except why is Simon wearing black air force ones? Was he even aware of that brand? And why is he wearing a Nike tech trench? Kyle is feeling a strange sense of déja vú.

"Och! Si nice coat! It's fittin' fo' ye!" Soap greets.

Simon only grunts as he puts away his coat. The cherry-coke woman reentered the living area carrying two wine glasses and her eyes land on Simon.

"Sweetie, come get me when you guys are done. Can't say I won't be singing My neck and my back in two hours if i am, we gotta leave right away. Love you!" And she disappeared down the steps with Price's girlfriend. Simon only nods his head in acquiescence, and there's a slight blush on his ears from what she said.

Soap has a wide grin on his face, and by this time, Price is entering the room with the cards. Kyle feels like he is on the office or some bad parody...because what?

"How'd ye meet her, Si?" Soap is vibrating with energy.

"I met her through Price's girl...it was a blind date." Simon says.

Soap thinks he's funny, "Do I get a pretty hen next?"

Kyle places his head in his hands and leans over the table. "I can't believe there's two of you now."

@c-nstantine I saw what you wrote and ran with it. Lol

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 7.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 1.2k

—chapter content/warnings: not much here!!, cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, subtle flirting (in san's and oc's terms lmfao)

—a/n: hi! just a friendly lil reminder that these half chapters are random scenes/bits that couldn't really fit into a chapter or stand-alone as one. they're mostly in the past and will not always follow the exact timeline of the previous or upcoming chapter!

San booked off most of his day to help Christopher with this symposium. Well, actually, most of the group has [minus a select few others] in order to make room for the quick tech rehearsal and run through before its official start time in the next half hour or so. The staff is now bringing in the fruit, cheese and other pastries, along with coffee, tea and juice— setting them outside of the conference room on a long table. The symposium is supposed to be 5 hours, being that everyone keeps to their 20-min presentation + 10-min Q&A times. San is off to the side speaking with Jongho and Chris, while Mingi and Zara are fiddling with the AV system to test their own presentations for the final time. Even though this is the one time most of their schedules worked, Yeosang had to skip out due to heading overseas for a conference. As San sips on his coffee, Yunho and Iseul walk in alongside of Namjoon. Per usual, he keeps greetings to a bare minimum:

AKA, a very subtle smile and nod to both. One that Yunho reciprocates, one that Iseul doesn't like to acknowledge.

But, whatever.

"Did you guys tell your labs about this?" Chris nervously wipes his hands on his dress pants, nervous about how his first symposium is gonna turn out.

"Dude." Jongho laughs and pokes fun at him. "Relax."

"I bragged about it way too much, I don't even know if people wanna come anymore." San teases, making Chris shake him by the shoulders. "Relax! They'll come!"

"What if no one shows up? We'll be giving presentations to each other—" Chris laughs, but a few people start trickling into the conference room; providing him with a sense of relief. "Oh, thank god." The three start giving small nods to the students and other faculty dipping in, greeting them just as they set their things down and grab some food.

"Can't believe you actually thought people wouldn't come. Think you might need extra chairs." San points out as more people flood in.

"Shit, I did it." Chris beams from ear to ear, shifting his attention to two more familiar faces. "Oh! Hey Y/N, Jiung!" He says as the two of you walk towards their group, giving them very curt bows.

"Hi." You smile at all, especially San. He bites onto his straw, trying his hardest to hold back his smile.

"Thanks for coming."

"Of course! Got a good lineup, excited to hear all the presentations!" Jiung tugs on his backpack straps.

"In that case, send me a full report on it tomorrow." Jongho jokes, making Jiung playfully roll his eyes.

"Do you see how he treats me?" Chris and Jongho laugh.

"Nah, he's been talking a lot about the work you've been doing and how you're probably the best person to help get the rig together for our optical electrophysiology project."

"Aw, really?" Jiung looks at Jongho. "You mean it?" Jiung has stars in his eyes and Jongho can't help but deny the allegations. He has said it time and time again; Jiung is definitely doing great work and Jongho doesn't want him to go anywhere. If he could keep him for good, he would. He hopes he can.

He'd just never say it out loud cause he's like that.

"Hey now." He shakes his head. "I never said anything, I don't know what he's talking about." 

"We have a few minutes actually, let's talk about that real quick and follow up in another meeting later on." Chris looks at you. "Sorry to have to pull him away from you, Y/N. Professor Choi #2 can keep you company?"

"All good." 

"Be back." Jiung looks at you. "I'll save us those chairs." He points towards two end spots near the middle section. You awkwardly watch as Chris, Jongho and Jiung approach another professor to talk about said project, leaving you with San. 

"Hi." He says shyly. You've never seen him this way, and he's too fucking cute, too fucking charming. It makes you replay the dinner events in your head, only pushing your curiosity of what he'd be like if you two were completely alone. 

"Hi. Is that your nervous face poking out? Are you nervous?" You tease a bit.

"Me?" He playfully scoffs. "No. Dinner was more nerve-racking than this."

"What, why?" You giggle.

"Because it's you. I have to be extra careful with you, remember?"

"Right." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes glaze over his figure; he's dressed nicely in a white button up, tie and grey vest. They're all dressed nicely for the occasion, but it's definitely an extra weakness for you seeing San like this. 

"You're cute." He mutters as he bites his straw again and takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes looking around the room to make his flirting not so obvious. And it isn't, except Yunho has been watching from the side while he waits for Iseul to finish up working through some presentation issues with IT. He didn't mean to, but his eyes gradually glazed over to the two of you smiling and laughing.

He can't help it, but the interaction feels different. The only time he's ever seen San that shy and flustered is when he was courting Iseul. It almost feels like he's watching something unfold all over again. 

"All good!" Iseul says, knitting her brows together when Yunho seems to be preoccupied. "You okay?" She asks, Yunho finally returning his attention to her.

"Yeah, sorry. Was just people-watching." Iseul looks over, eyes also falling on San but she doesn't necessarily get a chance to think much about it before Yunho is chiming in again. "Let's go grab some food before it starts." He laces his hand with hers and leads her to the end, front row seats.

Meanwhile, you've been too busy keeping your attention on San to care about everyone else. You're so tempted to nudge him, be a little affectionate with him. And it's taking everything in you to remind yourself who you are and where you are at.

"Stop it."

"Glad you actually made it, though."

"I told you I'd come."

"And I'm glad it wasn't just something you said to brush me off in the hallway." You laugh.

"No, never." Jiung wraps up his talk with the other professors, his eyes meeting yours with a small nod towards the seats he sat his bag down at. "Well, guess they're done. I'll see you later? Goodluck on your talk, Professor Choi." He smiles toothlessly at you.

"Thank you, Y/N." He watches as you walk off and meet Jiung, plopping down onto the seat as he debriefs you on his impromptu meeting. 

"Hm." Jongho hums and clears his throat, slowly walking over to his bestfriend while sipping his coffee.

"Yes?"

"Nothing." Jongho squints his eyes at him, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "Productive conversations going around, I see."

"Mhm." San chuckles, knowing exactly what Jongho's hinting at.

"Hey!" Zara comes over with a bright smile on her face. "We saved you some seats." She points at the front row on the left side, waving them over. "Come." 

"Sweet, thanks." Jongho leads the way while Zara tucks her hair behind her ear and walks alongside of San.

"Ready?" San shrugs as he looks at her.

"As can be."

"I'm sure it'll be great like always." He smiles.

"Thanks." He lets her slip into the seat next to Jongho before sliding into the end seat, eyes quickly glancing over at you before he gets situated and switches modes for the symposium.

Though, you are incredibly distracting, and he can only hope he can get you alone sometime soon just to show you exactly how he feels.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny

[nahoney22]

hi so I really love the way you write tech and was wondering if you could write some light angst and fluff with him and female reader for your 4,500 followers (congrats!) I was thinking maybe reader is really missing home and has a small radio type thing that she uses to contact them but one day it breaks. she asks tech to fix it but doesn’t really care too as he’s busy which silently upsets her more. maybe Hunter prompts him too since tech actually has a crush on her… or whatever you think flows best 🤭 but please can I have it so reader kisses him as a thanks? Thanks if you do this! Have a wonderful day 💚

possible prompt if you want to:

17: “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

Thanks okay bye! 😊

Touch of Gold 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader

word count: 1.4k

prompts:

• “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

As the request asks 😌

warnings: Safe for work, fluff, light angst with reader missing home, mutual pining, friends to lovers, Hunter being supportive and a bro, first kiss, tech not reading emotions too well, accidental kiss

authors note: happy tech Tuesday! Enjoy @powertechmove 🩵

The steady hum of the ship’s engines was a familiar sound, one you’d grown accustomed to over countless missions with the squad. But today, it only seemed to amplify the hollow ache inside you. Sitting alone on your bunk, you clutched the small, battered radio in your hands—the last tangible connection to your family, to home. When it had stopped working days ago, it felt as though your whole world had shattered.

You’d tried everything you could think of to fix it, but your skills were no match for the intricate workings of the device. But there was someone who you think could help.

Tech, with his quick mind and adept hands, could likely repair it in an instant. He could fix almost anything, and that was one of the many things you admire about him. And admittedly also one of the many reasons you found him attractive, too.

But even knowing that, you hesitated to approach him. He was always busy, always absorbed in his work and the upkeep of the Marauder. You didn’t want to burden him with something that, in the grand scheme of things, might seem trivial.

Yet, as the days dragged on and the weight of homesickness pressed down harder, you could no longer bear it. Summoning your courage, you found him in the cockpit, tinkering with some equipment. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his goggles, completely absorbed in his task. Even in deep concentration he looked so cute. Pushing the thoughts away, you approached

“Tech,” you began softly, not wanting to interrupt too abruptly.

He looked up immediately at the sound of your voice, his gaze sharp and attentive. “Yes? How can I assist you?”

You hesitated, holding out the broken radio. “My radio… it stopped working. I’ve tried to fix it, but I think it’s beyond me. Could you… maybe take a look?”

Tech took the device, his fingers gliding over its worn edges as he examined it. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head slightly. “The internal components are severely outdated and damaged. Without the proper parts, I don’t believe I can restore it to working order.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, extinguishing the small flicker of hope you’d been clinging to. You tried to mask your disappointment, but your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“I see,” you murmured, forcing a weak smile. “Thanks for looking, anyway.”

Tech nodded, already turning back to his project. “I need to return to more pressing matters.”

You bit your tongue, trying not to take his words too personally. He likely didn’t mean to sound so… dismissive. But as you walked away, the sense of isolation grew heavier. Without that radio, the distance between you and your loved ones felt even more insurmountable.

On your way out, you passed Hunter, who immediately noticed the change in your demeanor. He’d sensed your growing homesickness for the last few days. Naturally, he wanted to help. He wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but he had seen the way you looked at Tech thinking nobody was looking, how you lingered just a tad around him. He wasn’t going to do it just for your sake, however, but for Tech’s as well.

He made his way to the cockpit, where Tech was still engrossed in his work. “Tech, got a minute?” Hunter asked, his voice casual but with an underlying seriousness.

Tech glanced up, his focus shifting to the Sergeant. “What do you need?”

Hunter leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “I want to talk about her,” he said, nodding in the direction you’d gone. He watched as Tech’s expression remained neutral, though he caught a slight tension in his posture. “Is she alright?”

“She seems well enough,” Tech replied, pushing up his goggles slightly. “Though her radio is broken.”

“And?” Hunter prompted.

“Unfortunately, it’s beyond repair without the necessary components, which I don’t have on hand.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “I get that it’s not an easy fix. But she’s been down lately, and that radio was her connection to home. Fixing it would mean more to her than you might realise we.”

Tech paused, considering Hunter’s words. “I understand the emotional significance, but I must reiterate that the repair is not simple. Besides, I’m occupied with other tasks.”

Hunter studied Tech for a moment longer, knowing how his mind worked—analytical, logical, always focused on efficiency. But Hunter also knew something else, something Tech might not fully grasp about himself. “Look, Tech, I’ve seen how you look at her. You care about her, even if you don’t always show it.”

Tech’s eyes widened slightly, and he straightened, clearly taken aback. “I assure you, my concern is purely professional—”

“Sure,” Hunter interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe this is your chance to show her you’re there for her. You might not be able to say it outright, but fixing that radio would mean the world to her. And it might just help you both cross that bridge.”

Tech fell silent, processing Hunter’s words. The idea of showing his care through action, rather than words, resonated with him. After all, he’d always been more comfortable expressing himself through his skills than through direct emotional communication.

“I understand,” Tech finally said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ll… reconsider the matter.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The next day, Tech found you outside the ship, sitting on a crate and staring up at the stars. The vastness of space had always reminded you of how far you were from home, and today was no different. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice Tech until he was right beside you.

He called your name softly, causing you to startle. You quickly wiped at your eyes, hoping to hide the tears that had welled up.

“Oh, Tech,” you stammered, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t hear you.”

Without a word, he held out the small radio, and your breath caught in your throat. “I managed to repair your radio,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I was able to source the necessary components from some older equipment we had in storage.”

You stared at the radio, hardly believing it. “You… you fixed it?”

“Yes,” Tech confirmed, his gaze holding yours as he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks. “It should function properly now.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time from gratitude rather than sadness. You took the radio from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “Thank you, Tech. I don’t even know what to say. I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

A faint warmth danced across Tech’s cheeks, though his expression remained composed. “It was the least I could do,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s no need. The repair was quite fascinating, actually…” he began to explain, launching into the technical details of the repair. But you could only watch him, a sense of awe and affection growing as you listened.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, wanting to show him just how much this meant to you. But as you did, Tech, likely calculating the movement or perhaps just reacting instinctively, turned slightly into you, and your lips ended up brushing against his.

Both of you froze, eyes wide in surprise. Tech blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. But before he could say anything, you quickly pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his tone hurried. “That wasn’t my intent—”

But you silenced him by gently placing your hand on his cheek, guiding him back toward you. No words were needed, and you leaned in, kissing him again, this time with intent and certainty.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then, as if some unseen barrier had finally been crossed, it deepened, filled with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands rest nervously on your hips, suppressing a quiet moan in his throat as you tilt your head just a touch, your lips dancing together beautifully.

When you finally parted, both of you were a little breathless, a little flustered. Tech’s usually composed demeanor was slightly shaken, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words.

“You don’t need to apologise,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I’m glad it happened.”

Tech’s expression softened, and for once, he didn’t overthink. He simply nodded, understanding what you meant without needing to analyse it. “So am I.”

Tags: @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894

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[haleswallows]

coming at you live, with a news series.... Promises, Promises

Part 1: Cross My Heart (Hope to Die) Fandom: DC x DP Crossover Pairing: Dead Tired (Danny Fenton/Tim Drake) Rating: Teen

Teaser:

"Are you really doing the 'FBI, this is our case now' shtick? What are you, a cop?"

Phantom makes a retching sound. "Sorry, reflex. Any sort of implication I'm government adjacent, can't help it."

"You know being Justice League makes you government adjacent," Red Robin helpfully points out. He weighs a net-launcher in his hand. "If not affiliated with the UN, the League works with the organization often to be called an ally."

"Not me," Phantom says with cheer, pushing a narrow cylinder towards him. "That's essentially a light saber, by the way. Nah, they keep me pretty far from the UN shit. I'm not built for it. I'm there to hit things real hard and share tech."

A light saber? Hell yeah. Tim grabs it and wonders if he can keep it.

"Can I keep it?" he blurts out, because why not?

Shrugging, Phantom says, "Sure, I have like five more. This one is green, but I think I can change the color. Red would match your like —," he waves expansively at Red Robin, "Vibes and aesthetic. Very cool branding, by the way. The cape is dope."

Huh. Tim didn't expect the compliment. He chooses to ignore it, mostly because he just doesn't know what to say in response. 'Thanks, I like your cyber-gothic vibes too'?

"Green's fine, I always wanted to be a Jedi." A red light saber would infinitely more on brand, but Tim would never consider being a Sith. Wait, absolutes. Shit.

It fits perfectly next to his bo staff on his bandoleer. Which, sick and feels like a divine happenstance, as if Red Robin was meant to have the energy blade. He helps Phantom reload the bag, though the ghost keeps the thermos out before pushing the entire duffle back inside his chest.

God, that's even weirder up close. Tim examines Phantom's torso, mind spinning through possibilities on how it works.

"Alright," Phantom's voice breaks his concentration, Red Robin snapping to attention. A truly feral grin spreads across Phantom's face as he lifts into the air, hair swirling and catching the last dredges of sunlight. "Let's go ghost hunting."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They're wrapping up in one of Tim's more 'civilian' passing safe-houses. Mostly because it was the closest, and Phantom said something about 'ley lines' and 'easier to open a portal'. Cool, whatever. Tim wanted to burn this safe-house soon anyway.

Tim, as always, gets himself into trouble. Chronic Thinking Too Much Disease, they really ought to make a cure for it. He reflects, paused in the middle of writing the report and watching Phantom eat Cheerios right out of the box. Phantom perches on the counter, looking like he belongs there, shoveling cereal into his mouth with the relic sitting innocently at his hip.

When the fuck did Tim get Cheerios?

There's no denying it. Tim likes working with Phantom. The guy is good in a fight, doesn't rely on his powers too much, and kept up with Tim. Not just physically, but intellectually. And he's shockingly earnest when he isn't being a trash-talking little shit.

So. Tim gets an idea.

"Hey," he says before he's even thoroughly thought it out, "we should date."

Phantom pauses, gloved hand suspended in the middle of shoving another handful of cereal into his mouth, wide eyed and gaping. Attractive.

"Huh?" he says eloquently.

"Not for real," Tim scrambles to explain. "I mean fake dating. Just hang around some, be a bit performative, nothing out of masks. We can say we're taking things slow and break up amicably. Nightwing keeps trying to set me up with a date. This will get him off my case."

"Oooooh." Phantom resumes inhaling cereal. Why a ghost needs to eat, Tim would like to know, but it's probably rude to ask. Slowly chewing, Phantom seriously thinks it over. "You know, the council has been bugging me, too. About dating. This could work out for both of us."

Council? Tim would like to know why a council is interested in Phantom dating. So he asks.

Phantom sighs explosively. Finally, he sets the Cheerios down. "OK, so like, this is need to know basis only. I haven't even disclosed it to the League. And like, Nightwing only knows because he's my friend and the Observants crashed one of our missions and outed me. Hard to lie about why a floating eyeball showed up to demand I actually show up to the next council meeting, instead of blowing them all off again to play heroes with my living friend."

Pulling a face, Phantom waves an arm in an arc over his head. A crown appears, spinning and shooting off beams of light like an Aurora Borealis.

Tim doesn't gape, because Red Robin doesn't gape. But, you know, that's unexpected.

"I'm the Ghost King. It's a whole thing, no I am not taking questions on it at this time. Well, technically, I'm the Prince of the Infinite Realms because I'm too young to take the throne. So, there's a council and a regent. Whatever, not important!"

Phantom claps, getting himself back on track. "What that means is there's a council and Observants that are really interested in my personal shit. Including who I date. But like, I'm enjoying my brat girl summer and being single right now, not that they care."

Tim blinks. Then blinks again, slotting the new information in place alongside everything he knows about Phantom. That's... something.

"That sounds annoying," Tim says, instead of one of the approximately 23 questions in his head that are quickly spawning more by the second. "Fake dating would solve both of our problems."

Because Tim is a professional, they make a contract.

Phantom watches with great interest as Tim bustles around the apartment, setting up shop at the kitchen table. He doesn't think he's ever actually sat at this table. Mostly, he's used this apartment to sleep, a crash-out spot that has a nicer bed and isn't as sparse as the other Bat-affiliated safe houses.

As soon as Tim sits, stretching out his wrists, Phantom kicks off from the counter to hover around Tim's shoulders. The box of Cheerios balances precariously on the ghost's stomach. Tim eyes it briefly. Then sets to it.

"So, uh," Phantom starts, arms folded behind his head. "How casual is 'casual'?" Under the weight of Tim's judging eyebrows, Phantom defends himself. "I'm just asking! Like, how far are we both willing to go to sell it? Are we exclusive? Facebook official?"

"Facebook official," Tim echoes, typing. "Christ, is anyone Facebook official? Do ghosts have Facebook?"

"I don't know, I could get one. If, like, you think it'd help." Absurd, this entire thing is absurd. But they're here and committed to the bit. Or committing to the bit. There's 'selling it', and then there's…. whatever Phantom is saying. Facebook, what year is it?

"Red Robin doesn't have a Facebook, and I refuse to make one." Tim barely manages to keep from sounding snide.

"I won't mog on you referring to yourself in the person, even though I'm really tempted." How gracious. "Alright, so just. Seeing each other, feeling it out, not seeing other people."

[writingsfromhome]

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

[niphredil-14]

hey so the rottmnt boys tend to think their appearance would be an issue in attracting someone to them. So how do you think they would deal with a s/o who one day unprompted, the boys are just doing normal things, is like “It’s frustrating how everything you do is so attractive to me” and s/o hides face in pillow and makes a groaning noise, like they can’t contain themselves, but are trying too. S/o ends up giving their boys a massive smooch once they get themselves out of their pillow confinement?

thanks so much for sending this in! I've been dying to get some more tmnt requests! I don't write for Mikey unless I'm feeling super inspired specifically for him, so sorry about that. Hope you enjoy!

Leonardo: He may be the self proclaimed "face-man," but we all know that he deals with quite a bit of insecurity. Growing up watching movies with attractive people who look nothing like you can be discouraging, as can having to live in the sewers your whole life because the humans in the above-ground-world would see you as a hideous monster. While dating you, he never once took you for granted, because he knew how fortunate he was to have you. I don't think he would ever intentionally tell you about his insecurities, but it wouldn't be hard to figure out. So when you tell him that, and get so frustrated at your own lack of control over yourself and your emotions, it flusters him. He'd be so grateful that you shoved your face into the pillow because that meant that you wouldn't be able to tell just how flustered he was. He would try to cooly play it off as if it meant nothing to him, but the breathy tone to his voice, and the slight shake of it as he spoke gave it away.

"Well what did you expect? You didn't seriously think that you could be immune to my charm, did you?"

Raphael: I think that Raphael would be a bit more open about his emotions and insecurities with you, not completely, or all the time, but he would most certainly be better at communicating with you when he struggles than Leo would. He most likely told you when the two of you began dating that he was surprised that someone as attractive as you would ever want to go out with a big, scary mutant like him. It would probably take quite some time for your affirmations to sink in and become believable for him, he would appreciate your compliments, but it wouldn't be until much later in the relationship that he would be able to genuinely believe that you thought he was handsome. He might become more accustomed to your compliments, and I doubt that he would ever outright deny them, but I think it would be a while for him to stop doubting, if ever. But whenever you complimented him, especially out of the blue or unprompted, he would become so, so, so soft. His eyes would get all big, a smile as bright as the sun would be exposed by his lips stretching back against his beak, and a slow, steady thump, thump, thump would be heard from his heavy tail banging against the nearest surface.

"You're just too sweet, Doll."

Donatello:

Probably the most insecure out of all the brothers. Though it was all out of love, his brothers (especially Leo) teased him a lot growing up, and he had spent a good amount of time feeling inferior to theme in any way that didn't involve brains. He had been keenly aware of the fact that they would most likely all never find love, but he had convinced himself that even if by some miracle his brothers were able to, that he would never have the privilege. He wasn't big and strong like Raph, or confident and outgoing like Leo, or as friendly and cute as Mikey. He was a cold, introverted man who only knew how to navigate his tech. So when he got into a relationship, as happy as he was, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was convinced that it was all just a moment's lapse of judgement on their part, and that soon they would realize their mistake, and leave him behind. Because of that mindset, he had endeavored to savor every single moment he spent with his partner, he lavished them with every gift he could think of, and made sure that, even though he wasn't overly affectionate by nature, that they never forgot, even for a second, how much they meant to him, even if he was convinced that he cared for them much more than they could ever care for a monster such as himself. He would never admit these insecurities to them, he did not want them to feel obligated to reassure him, he didn't want to bring them down, but it was clear to them with the look of pure shock and disbelief that he let slip whenever they complimented him, and so they continued to, in hopes that they could crack through his walls, and convince him that they loved him just as much as he loved them. And every time they looked his way, no matter how long they were together, or would be together, it would feel like a gift from the highest of deities, a blessing for their most loving devotee. He may never fully stop viewing himself as a "monster," but it was okay, so long as he was theirs.

"If Ceres was graced with the gift of the Sun's praise, my dear, it would not feel a googolth of what I do when you so much as gaze in my direction."

(can you tell who's my favorite lol) REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[dilfl0v3rss]

drunk delusions

(onyankopon x black reader)

summary: a strange man tries to pick you up from the club.

word count: 1.5k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was nearly midnight when ony got the call. you were supposed to be at mikasa’s house by now, but you seemed to have taken way to many shots at the club and gotten yourself into some trouble. “y/n it’s late. you good?” you hear ony’s deep and sleepy voice as you sat on the curb in front of the club in cuffs. the officer was kind enough to hold your phone to your ear as you called your boyfriend. you were accompanied on the curb by your friends sasha and mikasa. the three of you were drunk as hell and honestly had no remorse for the actions that got you here. “heyyyy boooo. ‘m on the curb” hearing your slurred words through the speaker, ony can tell that you are clearly drunk.

“i thought you was at mikasa’s already what happened?” even though you didn’t care about the situation that much, you knew even in your drunken state that your man will be upset if you told him what happened. you hesitated before you answered, knowing that if you lied the officer was likely to snitch on you anyways. “i got ina fight and i need you t’come get me. and can you call connie and jean b’cause sasha and mikasa are in trouble too.” little did you know that ony was already in the car, looking at your location on his phone. “i’m coming ma.” were the only words you heard come through the speaker before you heard three beeps. signaling to you that he hung up.

“connie’s finna spank me so hard guys i think my butt might fall off.” sasha quietly whimpers to you and mikasa as y’all wait for your boyfriends to get there. “i dunno if he’s comin sash. ony never said he was gonna call. he just hung up on me.” hearing your words, sasha began to smile, thinking she was safe. “okay good. can we pleaseeee go home wit you then y/n?” mikasa shakes her head at sasha’s question. “no he called. i can feel my phone shakin a bunch in my purse. now jeans not gonna buy me the bag i wantedddd.” you and sasha both turned towards mikasa. shocked at her sentence. “we’re worried about getting our butts slapped off and you’re worried about a BAG?!?” before you can add anything on to what sasha said you were interrupted by the sound of three car doors being closed near you.

your heart was filled with dread as a man approached the police officer. he was wearing a black nike tech suit with white socks and yeezy slides. you can tell he was well built by the way the hoodie nicely fitted his arms and chest. saying this man was attractive was an understatement, but you were a good girl and would never think of another man that way while you have your ony. as you quickly turned your head forward towards the police car you notice the officer walking being the three of you to remove the cuffs. you seen connie come up the sasha, whisper-yelling something to her in spanish while walking her to his car. and then you saw jean quietly grab mikasa and walk away with her. disappointment written all over his face. then you turned around to the mysterious man in the sweatsuit. “uhh who are you?”

now anyone in there right mind could clearly tell that this was your boyfriend, but in your drunken state you couldn’t tell the difference between a cat and a dog. “baby don’t start. m’tired and i needa get you home.” ony tried to gently pull your arm, but you quickly yank it away. “nigga i don’t know you. and you need to get back for real before my man see you tryna grab up on me like that.” you look around and move closer to his face. making it seem like it was top secret information you were about to spill. “he got guns too. i never got to touch em, but i’ve seen em and they’re real.” ony rolls his eyes at your statement. he did not have time for this tonight, but seeing the way you talked about him when he’s not around like he was some big scary guy kinda turned him on.

“you wouldn’t let anything happen to me tho. right pretty?” his words went straight to your core. ony knew that even though you may not have been able to recognize him visually. the affect he had on your body can never be forgotten. “h-hey! you don’t g-get to call me that. only my boyfriend calls me that” you whisper with a frown. as much as ony would’ve loved to keep teasing you, he really was getting tired and didn’t want to keep you in the cool spring air for too long. noticing how you started to shiver and cover up your arms every time a breeze came. “i am your boyfriend woman” he said with a blank face. you were still skeptical and you came up with a quick plan to settle this matter once and for all.

“m’gonna call em” ony rolls his eyes as he watches you dig through your purse for your phone. as you continued to struggle to find your phone he decided that the quicker he gave in to your delusions the faster he can get you home. pulling your phone out his pocket, ony silently gives it to you. you look up at him in confusion as you snatch the phone from his hand and begin dialing your lovers number. “ima let that go since you’re drunk, but don’t snatch…you brat.” ignoring him, you turn away from the man so he didn’t see you put your password in. ony couldn’t do anything but laugh at this since he already knew your password, but he let you keep on with your mess. you put the phone to your ear and wait for your boyfriend to answer. as if you were under a spell, you completely missed the sound of the man behind you lightly laughing as he picked up his phone and answered it.

“hey mama. what you up to?” you sigh happily as you hear your man’s voice ring through the speaker. “hey pa there’s this man tryna pick me up from the club. i told him that you don’t play about me but he not listening.” an idea pops into ony’s head which causes him to smirk behind you. “what he look like baby?” you turn your head and look the man up and down a couple times. while you stared at him for a couple seconds you instantly felt your face grow warm when the motherfucker decided to wink at you.

quickly turning around you replied to your boyfriend, “he darkskin and got these tattoos all on his neck. he probably got more all over. he got on a sweatsuit and he smell good too. don’t be mad but…he-…he kinda fine” you whisper the last part into the phone, hoping the man behind you didn’t hear. ony chuckled through the phone at the compliment. “that’s not a good enough description princess. you gotta get closer for me.” you whine into the phone at your boyfriends demand. not trusting yourself to get any closer to this man without doing something dumb. “whyy daddyyyy? i think i did good enough.”

“i’d hate to come over there and get the wrong guy. if you want me to handle em you gotta give daddy a better description.” you sigh as you find yourself agreeing with your man. knowing you’d hate yourself if he were to get an innocent guy by accident. you walk closer to the man and study him again. noticing his sexy grin and his tall figure. he had small diamond studs in his ears and two gold chains on. he was very well built. looks like he works out almost everyday. you noticed under his hood he had on a dark grey durag. “damn he’s fine as hell” you quickly cover your mouth. not meaning for those words to be said out loud. the man laughs as you see him remove his phone from him ear and click a button. you notice that your phone was no longer connected to the call with your boyfriend as the man speaks. “it’s me mama”

his voice was so deep it made you have to clench your legs close together. you tried to pay no mind to what he was saying until you glanced up at his chains again. noticing the one with your name on it. squinting in confusion you look up at the man to get a better look at his face. his dark skin and bright smile made you almost pass out as you realized who he really was. “baby?”

“yea princess it’s me.” you squeal as you finally begin to recognize your man. “finally. i thought i was gon have to drag you outta here screamin. can we please go home now?” you smile up at your man as you showered his face with kisses. “mhmm i’m tired i wanna go straight to bed when we get there” ony chuckled at your sentence. knowing damn well he wasn’t going to let you just go to sleep after what you put him through tonight. “nah you not off the hook. you’ll go straight to sleep AFTER i handle you. i think twenty’s reasonable for tonight since you wanna be a criminal so bad” hearing his words you began to feel your pussy flutter under your short dress as you thought about the spanking you were about to receive when you got home. this was gonna be a fun night.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his dark brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

[umbramoons]

TECH MOMENTS PT. 5

The Bad Batch S1 E1: Aftermath

This one's a doozy, my friends! Enjoy 100+ bullet points and 50+ pics of our favorite clone genius!

- Running through the droids, putting an explosive on everyone he can get his hands on. ❤

- “Hey, clanker! Catch!” (This was the moment I realized that I like him. My brain did a double take, like: "Wait he's attractive.") ❤

- Kicking a droid for no reason ❤

- Walking off the battlefield like it wasn’t even hard.

- I love the little distracted wave he gives General Billaba. Everything about him is just so endearing to me. 

- His voice is a little more deep and raspy than usual while he’s talking about the war ending. Gosh, I’m down so bad for this man.

- He’s the only one who doesn’t have a blaster drawn when they first approach Caleb.

- Tech is one of the ones sent to talk to the regs about what’s going on. Echo makes sense since he’s technically still a reg, too, but why Tech? Because he’s the least likely to cause a problem.

- He’s also the first one to run to talk to the regs. Taking initiative once again.

- Tech: “The regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.”

Hunter: “What? Which Jedi?” 

Tech: “All of them.” The disbelief in his voice is subtle but there.

- This is a glow-up, people (a small one since he was already pretty, but still)! Tech is gorgeous, and no one can tell me otherwise. ❤

- I love his tiny smile when he finishes explaining how long they’ve been gone.

- The disappointed look on his face when Wrecker doesn’t understand his explanation of how long they’ve been away from Kamino.

- He has the smallest smile on his face when he hears that General Grevious has been defeated.

- “Just like I said.”

- He looks so done when Wrecker punches him.

- When the clones pass by with the body of a Jedi, it’s Tech Hunter shares a look with.

- “Excuse me, trooper, what division are you from?” *gets shoved aside* “Oh. Well, they seem the same to me.” ❤

- He immediately starts working on something once he gets back to their barracks.

- All the formulas and calculations on his bunk wall… a result of his sleepless nights, I’m sure.

- I love the curious look he gives Crosshair when he says they didn’t complete every objective.

- “And my exceptional mind.” I love him an unhealthy amount.

- “My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming.” *looks at Crosshair* “Though I can’t be one hundred percent certain of it.” He looks so. Kriffing. GORGEOUS.

- “You are more machine than man. Percentage-wise, at least.” His little reassurance to Echo at the end.

- Hunter: “This is one meeting I don’t want to miss.”

Tech: “First time for everything.”

- The way he’s just looking at his datapad throughout the meeting.

- Stepping out of line to ask Hunter what’s wrong. First of all, noticing something’s up with him. And second, it takes some serious courage to break formation like that during such an important briefing while all your superiors can clearly see you.

- “Still don’t think the regs are programmed?”

- Crosshair: “Republic, Empire, what’s the difference?” 

Tech: “The systematic termination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” ❤

- “Adolescent human female. Origins... uncertain.”

- Tech’s mouth quirks up in a tiny smile when Omega says she was wondering when they’d come back. He already likes her.

- His look of surprise when he realizes Omega knows his name.

- The way he stares after Omega in wonder. ❤

- There’s this split second (right after Hunter says "everyone's talking about it) where it looks like he’s looking directly into the camera, and it’s just like, “Well hello there, sir.”

- “Hopefully not mental. Clearly, we’d never pass that.” It's okay, I'm not neurotypical either, babe.

- Leaning around Hunter to see Omega.

- “You want to sit with us? That’s never happened before.”

- He can’t stop grinning at Omega after she says she likes him and his team for not fitting in. ❤

- I love the way his expression shifts when Hunter asks where Omega’s family is. Like, "that's actually a really good point."

- The way his face instantly drops when the regs make a jab at them. At Omega. He’s used to being pushed around, but he’s not pleased to see this precious girl being mocked.

- I love the way he’s all squared up in the background of this fight.

- Calling out a warning to Echo and then running over to the clone who knocks him out. It doesn’t show it, but Tech definitely threw a punch at the guy for hurting his best friend. ❤

- “We’re more deviant than we are defective.”

- “Then we are not being reprimanded?” He’s so used to getting in trouble.

- His eye roll when Wrecker charges into battle without thinking. I thank God every day that we can always see his eyes with those goggles. ❤

- He’s not at all phased by passing through live rounds to get to Wrecker. He’d gladly walk through fire for the people he loves.

- “Wrecker, are you alright?”

- That little head shake when Hunter signals a plan to him. Like he doesn’t think it will work, but he knows they have no other option.

- Wrecker: “Aw, I hate hand signals!” 

Tech: “Perhaps if you memorized them?” 

Wrecker: “Why don’t you memorize them?” 

Tech: “I have.”

- They’re in the middle of a battle, but he’s sitting against those barriers so casually.

- The way he stops Wrecker from crushing the droid.

- Reprogramming the droid, then choosing to ride on its shoulders like a legend. (Note that it looks like he’s the only one to specifically get an impressed reaction out of Tarkin with his performance in this simulation) ❤

- Can I also just say how impressive that was? He completely reprogrammed a hostile droid to follow his commands while under heavy fire. In less than a minute. What a man, what a legend.

- “Wrecker. Look alive.” I feel like he has the capacity to lead, he just doesn’t want to.

- Reaches out to Wrecker (who calls him buddy). “I’m -” *flops down* “not going anywhere.” ❤

- I love the way he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture for a second after Echo and Wrecker help him up.

- “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used as target practice.” I love how upset he is about this. Also, he’s also backing up Wrecker’s feelings with his own here.

- None of the others make eye contact with Tarkin when he’s examining them. Tech does and practically glares at him. ❤

- I love his expression shift when Tarkin says the insurgents are Separatists. I can’t place the expression, but I love it. It’s almost like “Come on, I thought the war was over. Oh well.”

- I love his little disappointed look when Echo says he can’t crack the files. And then how he immediately offers to help.

- “That’s not going near my rack. I refuse to sleep by a projectile again.” AGAIN?!

- Tech comes right behind Hunter to exit the ship (and then leads them for a significant portion of their walk). Possibly symbolizing his position within the squad.

- Echo: “What was that?”

  Tech: “You don’t want to know.” 😑

- “Easy, Wrecker. Your programming’s kicking in.” I legit laughed out loud at this when I first watched the show. ❤

- His datapad lighting up his eyes makes him look so beautiful.

- Hunter always relies on him.

- The way he instantly senses that something’s wrong when he can’t see any droids in the camp.

- “There aren’t any droids, Wrecker.” You can tell that he’s starting to get a little agitated about this situation.

- Defending both sides when others choose one.

- Tech is the first one to ease up and stand down. Almost the second he hears Hunter start talking, like he knew he was going to tell them to back off. (And his eyes look stunning in that shot when he does. They immediately soften and become non-threatening.) You can just tell how much he and Hunter respect and trust each other. ❤

- He looks so pretty in this warm light of the camp. Who am I kidding, he looks good in every lighting.

- Geeking out over Saw. (And Saw is absolutely staring him down as he does. Like, they’re having a staring contest until he’s handed a weapon to examine. I don’t like that foreshadowing.)

- I also love the look on his face when Cross says “Is that a request?” I just always love his expressions.

- The way he leans forward with the tiniest hint of concern when Saw tells them to look at the insurgents they were sent to destroy. Anyone who says Tech is emotionless hasn’t been paying attention to him at all.

- His offended look when Saw said he thought he was the smart one.

- He is absolutely GORGEOUS in that shot where Crosshair says that the war is over. He’s literally flawless, and he’s perfect.

- “At least with the Republic, we knew where we stood. Tarkin and this Empire are a whole different story.”

- He literally jerks back in surprise when Cross says that Hunter isn’t fit to lead their squad.

- The concerned and confused look on his face when Hunter brings up Omega.

- “I would not discount Omega’s insight. A state of heightened awareness is not unusual for an enhanced clone such as herself.” Standing up for Omega before he knows her that well. ❤

- “When Nala Se spoke of five clones, Tarkin assumed that meant us, but Echo’s a reg. The fifth is Omega.”

- “Well, I thought it was obvious.” Leans against the doorframe like he couldn’t care less. ❤

- That glare when Crosshair suggests leaving Omega on Kamino.

- His little breath before saying “this is unusual” just makes him feel so alive to me.

- I love how he’s constantly glancing over and making eye contact with Crosshair. These two were so close.

- HIS BLACKS. TECH IN HIS BLACKS. Hallelujah for this scene. We wouldn’t be nearly as familiar with everyone's body types without it. Gorgeous man. Everyone likes to talk about Hunter's tiny waist, but Tech's is just as snatched.

- “Well, the mission wasn’t a total failure.” Of course he’s the first one to notice Omega. ❤

- His face is so warm and happy when he sees Omega. And then he immediately shifts to unamused at Crosshair’s complaint. ❤

- He shoots another tiny smile Omega’s way when Hunter says they were looking for her.

- “I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Facts, love.

- Crosshair never directs his anger at Tech. It’s always at the others. Even if Tech does say something he doesn’t like, he doesn’t get mad until someone else expounds upon it, and then he snaps at them. Cross clearly has a favorite here.

- Cross starts shaking his head with clear distress and frustration when Wrecker says that they disobey orders all the time, and you can see that Tech notices it. He tilts his head and frowns a little bit. ❤

- The concerned look he and Echo exchange when Crosshair starts to confront Hunter again.

- He looks freaked out when the guards hit Hunter. 

- Reaching out for Crosshair when they take him away. That broke my heart when I first noticed it. ❤

- The way he bounces his leg when he’s thinking hard. ❤

- “I’ve got it! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

- He talks with his hands. ❤

- Covering his mouth when Wrecker talks too loud.

- Running his fingers over the wall to see where the weak point is. ❤

- The confusion and worry on his face when Wrecker says it still didn’t work. Gorgeous, gorgeous.

- The way he glances over at Hunter (or probably the guards) before going over to help Wrecker. Ugh, he’s literally perfect.

- “Oh, yes it did.” ❤

- Bending a metal panel with his bare hands like it’s nothing. My man is strong! I love how he doesn’t follow the trope of the nerdy character being weak.

- Wrecker: “I’ll never fit through that!” 

Tech shakes his head. “Astute as always, Wrecker.”

- I love the way he rolls his eyes and facepalms when Wrecker blows their cover.

- Grabbing a blaster and stunning the last conscious guard. He shoots twice, just to be sure, and carries the blaster. He’s such a boss.

- Turning to confirm the guards aren’t dead (or going to follow them) before leaving the brig.

- Tech looks so cute when he tells Wrecker to hold still.

- I love how Tech serves as the unofficial medic (with Echo’s help, of course).

- Omega: “I guess I got lucky.”

Tech: “She's not the only one.” *gestures to Wrecker without looking up* ❤

- "What's the plan, Hunter?"

- Omega: “What about your friends? Could any of them help us?” 

Tech: “That would be a short list.” 

- The way he leans in and smiles so brightly when Omega asks that question.

- His smile when Hunter tells him to plot a course for J-19. ❤

- I love the way he shakes his head with clear affection when Wrecker cheers this time.

[nayomi247]

I cant believe like... no one in the fandom has done a post like this yet that I can find?? It seems like a staple, and Im sending it here cause your wonderful and need more requests mwuah (´ з `)

What do you think would be some of the Hazbin Crew's ideal s/o? Like, what would attract them/get their attention initially, what they would need in a longtime partner, that type of thing! I would LOVE if you did Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox (my BOYS *sobs*) but feel free to do anyone and everyone you want to!

Their Ideal S/O

A/N: Thank you for this lovely request mwah😙 Also I sprinkled in other hcs to that I thought of while writing this

Pairing: Lucifer/Reader, Alastor/Reader, & Vox/Reader

Work under the cut🤞🏻

I feel like this man would love a clingy lover. Please always hold his hand. Sit on his lap while he does his work. Cuddle him to sleep at night. He LOVES physical touch.

Lucifer:

He'd also want a person he can spoil. He wants you to know he cares. He shows this by gift giving; (another one of his love languages) anything in his power is yours for the asking, you just name it!

As for looks, he wouldn't really care about those. He loves you for who you are.... THOUGH, if you were tall, he'd like to be topped by you. Or if you were short, he would tease you for that and act all proud bc he's taller than someone.

The thing that initially attracted him though was your smile. He always adored it. Just seeing you laugh and be happy always made his heart flutter.

He wants someone who can take care of him. He's a very needy man and is almost like a toddler to some degree. Of course he could do this stuff himself, but it makes him feel better knowing that you're willing to do it for him.

If you're gonna be with him, you have to be nice to Charlie. That's non negotiable. He doesn't want to put you in a spot where you feel like you have to parent her, of course not. All he wants is for his 2 favorite people to get along.

He needs someone who's willing to commit to the relationship as much as he is. He's still a bit hurt from Lilith, and he's trusting you to not break his heart like she did. He would be crushed.

Alastor:

He isn't one to like physical touch very much. Maybe a peck on the cheek here, holding hands a bit there, but other than that he doesn't want to be touched. Don't get me wrong, he loves you a lot! But he's not really the.. touchy type.

I see him more as lover that would like words of affirmation or quality time. Just your presence alone is enough for him. Though if he's with a clingy partner, he'll probably get them a plushy or something of the sort to hug and cuddle when he's in his 'no touch mood'.

He'd like if if you could cook. You could help him prepare jambalaya and other dishes his mom showed him to make. It'd be a great bonding experience.

Like Lucifer, he doesn't care much for looks. As long as you're willing to commit to him as he does for you, then it doesn't matter to him what you look like.

To be completely honest, he doesn't know exactly why he loves you or even fell for you in the first place. But he does, and did. Who is he to question that?

Vox:

This man is also a big physical touch lover. He always has his hand on your thigh, holding your hand, or just touching any place he can.

Please let him spoil you. You'd always have the latest phone and other tech like that. If you want something, he'd be glad to give it to you.

He wants someone that's loyal to him and only him. If he sees anyone else trying to flirt with you (*cough cough* val) he'd go absolutely insane. You are his.

If you could cook, he'd always love to eat your meals, breakfast lunch and dinner. Would 100% brag to the other Vees when he has lunch.

He'd prefer it if you're good with tech. He wants to be able to brainstorm ideas with you and show off his latest inventions. Also it would make it 10x easier to clean his system if you were the one to do it.

He cares more about looks than the other 2, but it's not a deal breaker for him. He'd like it if you were good looking (You're beautiful no matter what though ofc) but it's not a need. Regardless, he'd still call you beautiful and his pretty thing

He fell for you because of your of your personality. The way you walk about and present yourself. You take bullshit from anyone, you know your worth. Much as he does. You're like him, you both understand each other. That's why he sought out your love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm sorry if this exactly what you hoped it would be, I know I added a few random things but I hope you like it regardless :]

Once again thank you for the ask<3

{Taglist}

@wonderlandangelsposts

[jessilynallendilla]

DPXDC FENTONS IN GOTHAM AND MISCELLANEOUS

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

FENTONS WORKING IN GOTHAM 

Stalling  T 2,363 

Just a perfectly normal conversation between Arkham's newest psychiatrist, and its most troublesome resident. In the staff parking lot. During a jailbreak. How she walks out of this alive is a question even the Batman himself wants answered. 

Who's Afraid Of Who?  G 611 SERIES 

Someone gives Jazz the wrong interrogation room number. Now she goes to visit a certain Dr. Crane...The station officers realize the error in the files when visiting the other resource, 1 hour later it's too late. By the time they arrive at the interrogation room, they find...Dr Jasmine Nightingale became an expert on the mind to help people. That included almost all of Gotham's worst offenders. Dr Crane, aka Scarecrow, is about to find out more first hand. 

Danny The Intern  T 

Danny decided to intern at Wayne Enterprise. He's always so helpful, and polite, and gets the job done. He gets REALLY confused when his co-workers start acting weird: they would either pull him into another room; or make him do some outlandish task so far away, or a group of people suddenly surround him. It’s as if they are trying to hide him from someone. Meanwhile, there is an unspoken agreement amongst the employees: Rule #4: DO NOT LET ANY WAYNES SEE HIM. Otherwise, they are going to lose their most helpful intern (and hopefully a permanent employee) because of those damn Wayne’s adopting addictions. Though of course, it wasn’t long until they messed up Rule #4. 

Trivia Night  G 

Danny gets a job at some underground bar as one of the tenders there. The problem? He wasn’t informed that Gotham’s most dangerous villains would frequently go out for drinks, using said bar to do so. And naturally, through the power of tired college student and brunt-out hero, he manages to gain favor of all of them. So much so that they begin including him on planning heists, kidnappings, etc 

Just Another ̶L̶A̶ Gotham Devotee~  T 

Danny didn't expect much after leaving Amity and his vigilante career for a job at Wayne Tech R&D. All he wanted was a decent roof over his head, non ecto-contaminated food in his fridge, and maybe to stop getting thrown into buildings so often. Hell, he'd even negotiate that last point if it kept the Bats of his back. Unfortunately, fate has never been kind. Ancients, he needs a vacation. 

Specter Of The Month  T 

Far from Amity and those who'd follow, Danny does the only sensible option to make money and watch over his sister. Apply to become an Arkham Asylum security guard. When breakout rates drop and Penguin's released spouting rumors of a ghost haunting BlackGate, a certain Tim Drake grows curious. 

Gotham's Ghostly Bartender  T 

Danny after revealing to his parents he is Phantom and taking his place as King of the Infinite Realms, decides to try his luck as human opening a nightclub in Gotham. It´s going great until he attracts the attention of the Bats because he can´t help going feral on the Joker everytime he finds him on the city 

Help! My Teacher's A Mad Scientist  NR 

wherein Danny is a metalwork teacher at Gotham academy and ends up subbing for Tim's chemistry class. Measurements are just suggestions. 

Pitch-Dark Shades  T 

Danny Fenton is trying to build a new life in Gotham after closing up the connections to the Ghost Zone. Not that all connections are entirely broken, still being able to perceive shades and give them strength when he connects to one of their prized objects. Tim Drake is trying to find his own place in the world, focusing on becoming a better detective by solving cold cases in his spare time. When Tim and Danny meet, a new (begrudging) partnership starts to bloom to solve even the hardest of cases. Or it would if only they told each other the truth. 

New Job, Who's This?  T 8,000 SERIES 

Danny has an interview with the Engineering Team at Wayne Enterprises. He gets a job, but not where he expected. 

Those Who Serve.  T 

Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need. 

A Matter Of Opinion  M 13,096 

Jasmine Fenton goes down a different path in her attempt to care for her brother. Unfortunately, she could not stop her parents from taking her brother apart. Now, his core is slowly rebuilding his body from infancy, and someone has to pay for letting the Anti-Ecto Acts exist. When she bites off more than she can chew, she learns how to grow bigger teeth, and hunts down bigger prey. 

The Curious Case Of D. Grayson  T 

Dick Grayson gets a job in Wayne Industries as an electrical engineer, or so is the word. Except it's not Dick who gets the job but Danny Grayson, half ghost and professional disaster. Of course, because nothing is ever easy for Danny, the world mistakes him for the prolific first child of Bruce Wayne and therefore rumours start Dick Grayson got married in secret. What could possibly go wrong, am I right? 

Penny Two  T 6,822 

Alfred decides to hire Danny Fentom as an assistant butler. Bruce is uncertain about having a new person in his house. 

He Can See Ghosts Because He’s A Medium, Obviously  NR SERIES 

But no, what convinced him he’s in a different dimension are the ghosts. They’re nothing like the ghosts from the infinite realms, more like stereotypical ghosts kids who were raised normally believe in. The ones no one can see except in the flickering of lights, something falling when it shouldn’t, a strange noise or even sometimes a shadowy figure. But not for Danny, cause of course he can’t be normal. To him these ghosts look like every other living person around him. Or Danny gets trapped in the DC universe, specifically Gotham, and decides since he can see ghosts here he may as well use it. Or or Danny the medium! 

Ghost In The Morgue  M 

There's something off about the new Medical Examiner for the Gotham City Police Department. Danny Fenton, now working for the G.C.P.D. is good at his job. Very good. His reports are always done promptly and accurately. Scarily accurate. His "unofficial reports" even more so, listing details the medical examiner shouldn't know. He's an oddity, and oddities in Gotham attract Bats. 

Mondays, Am I Right?  T 2,681 SERIES 

There was a long silence. He heard his sister breathe in, breathe out, like she was mentally preparing herself to say something. “I… I heard, from other interns I talked to, that guard positions are always open. And that it’s super easy to get in.” 

Unnerving  T 

There's a new doctor at Arkham Asylum, and with the new doctor came a new security guard. Or, Jazz decided to work in Arkham and now it's everyone's problem. 

Arkham Phantom: The Cryptic Security Guard  NR 

Danny becomes a security guard at Arkham. 

Graveyard Shift  NR 

He moved slowly through the dark hall as the alarms blared and flashed, his eyes cutting through the dark. Where. Where did he go? He pauses at a sound, glancing down the left hall as a masked group crouches and goes still. Not paying them any mind, he pays more attention to the blue smoke that finds its way out his throat, curling around his face before trailing off down the hall. He starts walking again. He has someone to find. With barely a thought he slowly fades from the visible spectrum as he continues down the straight hall. 

Shrike  T 

Danny Fenton starts a new life in Gotham but ghosts keep following him, forcing him to return as Phantom to try and keep them in control. The Bats are trying to hunt down the new meta due to the destruction he causes. In his civilian life, Danny finds himself being questioned about his background and knowledge of technology when he wins a full ride scholarship and fellowship from Wayne Enterprises. Both sides of his life ends crumbling before him. 

DANNY IN GOTHAM 

Wait, I'm A What?  T 

after Clockwork dropped of Danny in Gotham he tries to make the best out of the situation which includes helping out some people. Except along the way that led to rumors that he was an up-and-coming crime boss. A rumor he was largely unaware of. 

Wait! I’m A Cartoon Over Here!?!  T 

A new vigilante group had been working the rounds. Every rogue or villain they came across for the past week got defeated in seconds. Bruce has been aging like a fly due to the stress of trying to catch them. Everyone else wishes to meet and get their autographs. While Damian and Dick can’t figure out why this group's actions, tools, and abilities feel so familiar. That is until Damian gets saved by a teen with snow-white hair and glowing green eyes. Damian just got saved by a cartoon character Dick and he watches regularly. Meanwhile, Danny and the gang got dumped into the DC Universe. They are familiar with the comics, shows, and movies, they know what’s up, and they can survive! They plan not to draw too much attention. Maybe help a person here or there? get an autograph or ten? But, definitely find a way back home.  That plan fails immediately, and now, they’re a vigilante group with a dumb name. But, as long as they stay in the shadows, they should be fine! That all changes when Danny saves Robin and learns something very important yet terrifying. 

Cry Of The Mourning Dove  T   

Danny's made it this far from Amity. An alley way, somewhere in Gotham city. He had a goal, but he's so injured... He's not sure he's gonna find who he needs to find. Red Robin and Red Hood find him first. A kid. Bleeding green. With Bruce Wayne's face. 

Bus To Nowhere  T 

Is it running from your problems if your problems consider you to be a dead imprint of consciousness that killed their son? Yes, but Danny tries not to think about how his nightmares of his parents trying to kill him came true when they found out he was Phantom. After being on the run from his parents and the government for a couple of months, moving from town to town, Danny ends up in Gotham City and decides to risk staying in Batman's territory. He'd take the wrath of Batman over live vivisection via beloved parents or being studied and torn apart by the government. Besides, he's not a meta. Being dead is a medical condition. 

Change In Management  T SERIES 

Desperate for energy to sustain herself and her city, Gotham tries to consume Phantom but loses and instead bequeaths her mantle to him as she destabilizes. This has some interesting consequences as Danny now finds himself inexplicably linked to a crime-ridden city in another dimension. 

In The Dead Of Night  T 

Danny's life has never been normal. One night he is thrust into a situation he never wanted and certainly didn't ask for. Now lost, alone, and injured in an unfamiliar city, he must rely on the help of strangers in the forms of Gotham City's vigilantes, and the family of Bruce Wayne. In order to survive and keep himself out of the hands of an insane cult that is desperately seeking out a power far greater than anyone should have. 

Thirty-Odd Days Of Chasing An Enigma  T 

Danny and the Batfam play hide and seek and tag, all on the palm of Danny's hand, while he tries to gain some much needed balance after a reveal gone bad. 

Anarchic  T 5,585 SERIES 

Danny Fenton is set free on another world, he really should've taken the "No consequences" claim with a pinch of salt 

Hatred At First Sight  G 1,304 

The residence of Gotham were used to rogue attacks and most didn't bat an eye to the extravagance that was the Joker even as everyone watching as he live filmed his assault on the bank in a numb kind of horror that you could only acquire through exposure. He was holding a bunch of hostages, asking the watchers what he should do with them with a wide unhinged smile and maliciously gleeful eyes that watched his many victims squirm in terror. Until he looked at the skrunky kid in a ratty hoodie that looked like he could be a Wayne adoptee. And both froze for a good minute. And like some kind of demented switch got flipped the kid snarled and (still with his hands tied behind his back mind you) launched himself at the Joker. 

Danny's Guide To Not Dying Alone On The Street  G 

After his parents chase him out of the city, Danny finds his way to Gotham to stay out of the eye of the GIW or any other ghost hunters who might be interested in him. After he accidentally shows his powers in a very public setting, can he avoid the ghosts of his past and the ever-increasing number of Gotham Vigilantes interested in him? 

Run Ghost Run  NR 

Danny escaped from the GIW and his parents, but he had to keep running. If those in the infinite realm found out what happened war would happen. Clockwork said to follow the birds and bats whatever that means. For now, he would just hide in Gotham. No one would look for him there. 

Gotham's Haunted  G 

Five times Danny Surprised a Batkid and that one time he was forcefully adopted by Bruce Wayne. 

No Laughing Matter  NR 

Danny kills the Joker, not knowing of the kill switch set to release Joker gas the moment Jokers heart stops beating 

Taking Flight  T 

Danny decides to tell his parents the truth. It doesn't go so hot. Fleeing Amity Park for his life he decides Gotham is the best place to fall through the cracks. Sadly as a black-haired blue-eyed teen with a strong sense of morality the adoption papers were half filled out. Unfortunately for Bruce, Danny has a thing about rich guys with secret identities who want to adopt him. 

Death Is Not The Enemy  T 

Danny gets summoned into a new universe, makes some friends, becomes part of the most powerful vigilante clan ever, punches a bunch of satanists, finds the meaning of family and gets a chance at dreaming big. Definitely not in that order 

Concession To Realism  G 

Clockwork sends Danny to a universe where he'll be safe until he can take up the mantle of Ghost King, a dimension far away from the Fentons and other ghost hunters. Danny is less than thrilled, especially when he starts developing a soft spot for some local bats. 

And So It Ghost   T 65,805 SERIES 

When Danny Fenton is invited to a Technology Fair in Gotham he hopes it will help open doors to a good college. What he doesn't expect is an attack by a technology obsessed ghost, or a visit from the Batman himself. Can Danny keep his identity a secret while also scoring a spot at Gotham University? Or will everything come crashing down around his ears like usual? 

MISC 

A Vigilante A Day Keeps The Government Away  M 11,158 

Lucius Fox gets a phone call he'd never expected from a source even more unexpected. Now, he's got to figure out what to do with a betrayed child, a traumatized nephew, a protective son, and an adoption-prone Bat. 

I Can Be Both Even If It's Hard (And It's Hard)  G 52,999 SERIES 

Sam and Tucker ran to get Jazz and didn't see Danny come out of the portal. By the time they return Danny has transformed back. This changes things. 

-=INSERT TERM=-  T 

“It's probably just identity theft” Tim looked up from his laptop in the corner as he said it, a courtesy Jason didn't return. “Maybe” he sighed, reading through the document in front of him again. Apparently a kid had cashed in his government trust fund, two years after his death. “I don't know why you care” Tim continued, returning to his screen. Originally Jason hadden’t, had even been offended when Bruce handed him the file with instructions to ‘look into this’. However, the more he did look into it, the more he realised this wasn’t really about the trust fund at all. 

Dull Residue Of What Once Was (A Shattered Cloud Of Swirling Doves)  T SERIES 

Danny didn't expect to become Ghost King. He definitely didn't expect or want to become a target for summoning because of it. He's pretty annoyed at this point. But hey, at least he gets to meet some of his favorite heroes! The Batclan meets King Phantom. It's very alarming. 

Of Course It's A Cult  T 2,696 SERIES 

Danny did not sign up for kingship. Nor did he sign up for random summons by crazy cult people. Fortunately, the sacrifices for this one are still alive and are slightly familiar. 

The Historian  NR SERIES 

I have even documented some stories claiming that the Bat is a living person. Of course, these claims are preposterous and should be immediately discounted. What living person would willingly choose to dress as a bat to fight crime? 

Dead Men Don't Bleed  M 

Dead men don't bleed. When the body begins to break down, the blood settles and congeals in the veins, clotting and preventing them from being able to bleed like the living. This, of course, isn't an issue, so long as your corpse stays dead. 

Tape 01  NR 

Daniel "Danny" James Fenton wasn't just a normal young adult and while everyone seemed to accept this fact, nobody was able to understand it. That's the point, where all his problems started to evolve into something much bigger. So nobody noticed when he disappeared... 

When The Clown No Longer Laughed  M SERIES 

Things have been going well for Arkham Asylum. There haven't been any breakouts in a while, a new team of Psychologists are starting to make a breakthrough with the residents, and Gotham is starting to heal. But with the recent suicide of one Mr. Freeze, Batman decides to look into what is happening in Arkham Asylum. Dr. Penelope Spectra talks about the good she is doing for the inmates, and how they are finally being rehabilitated. But Batman knew something was deeply wrong. When the Clown no longer laughed. 

Time Traveler Code  G 1,486 

Danny has to (re)introduce himself to Batman and his family after meeting them in the alternate Dan future. He has a few other big pieces of information to break to them, too 

[vodika-vibes]

Hello!! Happy 800 followers! I love the fall-themed asks and I'd love to ask for going camping with Sergeant Hunter. I can just imagine the man all decked out in flannels as you admire him chopping the wood for your fire 😍😍😍😍 and he has to hold you close while the others tell spooky stories around the Campfire likeyado.

~jedipoodoo

By The Fire

Summary: If you’re honest with yourself, you only agreed to go camping with the boys and Omega because you wanted to spend time with Hunter, not because you enjoy camping. But, you can’t help but think that maybe Hunter will make you enjoy it.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 874

Warnings: None

Prompt: Camping

A/N: So, I want to say that I have been camping a grand total of once in my life, and I was miserable and cold the whole time. Give me a hotel with climate control, hot water, and WiFi and I'm a happy vod'ika. Anyway, I hope you like the story!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“You look bored out of your mind, mesh’la,” Hunter notes, amusement in his voice, as he takes a break from chopping wood to check on you, “If you want to go swimming with Omega and the others you can, I won’t be offended.”

You scrunch your nose up, “Hard pass. Besides, I’m not bored at all.”

“Yeah? Because you look it.”

“I’m not bored because I’m spending time with you.” You counter with a sniff.

The look Hunter shoots you is so affectionate that you feel your face heat with slight embarrassment. It isn’t fair. Hunter is insanely attractive on a normal day but, with his hair pulled into a tail and wearing a flannel shirt, he’s even more appealing.

Honestly, you’ve been dating the man for half a year, and he still gets you all flustered like you’re a schoolgirl. And he knows it too.

“Mesh’la, do you even like camping?”

“I don’t think anyone actually likes camping,” You reply, “They just pretend to like camping because that’s what other people pretend. It’s a vicious cycle.”

He laughs and sets the axe down against the stump he’s using to cut wood to walk over to you. Hunter sets his hands on your shoulders, then slides his hands down your arms to hold your hands and then he kneels at your feet. 

“You didn’t have to come, mesh’la. Even though I invited you—”

You shake your head, “I don’t mind being here, Hunter. Sure, I don’t love camping, but I do love you.”

A small smile crosses his handsome face, and he releases one of your hands so he’s able to reach up to cup your face. You press your free hand over his and rub your cheek into his hand.

“I love you too, you know that?” Hunter whispers to you like he’s sharing a secret.

“We’ll, you have made it pretty obvious.” You reply, turning your head to press a light kiss to the palm of his hand.

“Good,” He tugs you in so he can brush his lips against yours, a hint of passion behind the chaste kiss, and when he pulls away there’s a familiar look on his face.

You don’t bother to muffle your amused laugh, “Regretting the camping trip yet, babe?”

He huffs out a breath, “Never. Course, I might change my mind tonight—”

You laugh again and swiftly press a kiss against his jaw, “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. We do still need more wood though.”

“Alright, alright. I hear you.” Hunter steals one last kiss and then disentangles himself from you so he can go back to chopping wood.

Later, after Hunter starts the fire and gets everything set up around the fire, and after dinner has been cooked and eaten, you find yourself on Hunter’s lap, your head tucked into his neck, and his arms secure around you.

Omega is in the process of making s’mores for herself and is cheerfully hoarding all of the chocolate and marshmallows, while eagerly listening to Echo’s scary story. Crosshair is lounging in a hammock, and you’re pretty sure he’s still awake, though you can’t really tell from where you’re sitting.

Wrecker is cooking some more burgers for himself and Tech, and Tech is sipping on a bottle of mead while listening to Echo as well.

As for Hunter. He’s wrapped around you as best as he can with you sitting on his lap. Now and then he drops a light kiss on your cheek or forehead, and he traces small shapes against the small of your back, making you shiver.

All in all, it’s not a bad way to spend the evening. 

And, grudgingly, you find yourself not all that upset that you have to sleep on the ground. You still don’t love camping, and you probably never will, but being here with Hunter makes you enjoy it a little more than you did when you were a kid.

Hunter shifts slightly, so his lips brush against your ear, “Still awake, mesh’la?”

You hum quietly in response, your arm sliding around his neck.

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of scary stories,” Hunter murmurs against your ear, “Do you want me to stop Echo?”

You shake your head, “They’re having fun,” you bury yourself closer to him as a cool breeze makes you shiver, “And I have you to keep me safe from the Boogey Man.”

He chuckles and kisses just under your ear, before he grabs a stray fleece blanket from nearby and drapes it over the both of you, taking care to tuck it around you securely. “Better?”

“Mm, who goes camping right before Winter?” You grouse under your breath, though there’s no heat in your voice.

“Me, so I have a reason to have you share my sleeping bag.” Hunter replies smugly.

“You have no shame.”

“None whatsoever, not when it comes to you,” Hunter confirms as he shifts to get more comfortable while tugging you so you’re more comfortable too. 

Your eyes drift shut to the sound of Echo’s storytelling, the feel of Hunter’s warmth all around you, and the bone-deep surety that you made the right choice, all those months ago, when you asked Hunter on a date.

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