#the concept behind this was.....daydream...kinda...

You sigh, leaning back to shout up the stairs. “Dustin!” 

“Tell him I’m coming!” Dustin yells back. 

You turn to Eddie. “He says he’s coming.” 

Eddie’s lips quirk like he doesn’t mean for them to, revealing a peek of teeth. “Yeah. I, uh, I caught that.” 

You look him up and down. Dustin said Eddie was a senior, but he looks older than that to you, if only just. He has tattoos and a self-assured energy that doesn’t usually come until adulthood, especially not to kids like Dustin. 

Eddie weathers your perusal with a steady gaze. “I didn’t know Henderson had a sister.” 

“I’m his neighbor,” you say. Close enough to a sister, as far as you’re concerned. You’ve been coming over to the Henderson’s since you were old enough to toddle across your yards. Claudia took to watching you during the day while your parents were out, and when you got older you started doing the same for Dustin. He’ll always be a bit like a kid, to you. Maybe it’s why the idea of him being so obsessed with a guy like Eddie sparks an almost feral protectiveness.

 “Oh, y/n.” It’s clear Eddie knows your name, but he says it like he’s getting a taste for it, learning its flavor. “Yeah, he talks about you.” 

Your startlement shows on your face before you can stop it. “He does?” 

“Oh, yeah. The kid worships you. It’s an honor to meet you in person.” Eddie grins (you don’t think he’s stopped grinning, actually, even when it’s only the hint of one on the corners of his mouth) and sticks out a hand. 

Begrudgingly, you take it. His palm is warm and calloused, metal rings denting briefly into your fingers as he squeezes before pulling away. 

You flatten your tongue between your molars. “How old are you?” 

Eddie laughs. “Whoa. No dinner first or anything, huh?” 

At your unimpressed look, Eddie’s smile changes just slightly. Doesn’t disappear, only shifts. His head tilting to the side like he’s trying to figure you out. 

“I’m twenty,” he says. 

“Dustin’s fifteen.” 

“So they tell me.” 

“You like hanging around with kids five years younger than you?” 

“Do I—” He gives a breathy, surprised laugh, like a gasp going out. “I’m not sure I know what you’re implying.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorjamb, prepared to wait out a real answer, but Dustin chooses that moment to finish whatever prep Dungeons & Dragons requires. You hear his bounding footsteps on the stairs just before Eddie’s gaze flickers behind you. 

“Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yup,” says Dustin, but you frown, snagging his collar on his way past you. 

“Hold on.” You touch the bill of his baseball cap. “Where’s your hat?” 

Dustin shoots you one of those looks that reminds you he really is a teenager. “On my head.” 

“It’s cold out,” you say. You fight the urge to pinch the tips of his ears, knowing he probably won’t speak to you for a month if you do it in front of his new hero Eddie. But with the way Dustin wears his hair now, his ears will freeze in an hour without a proper hat. “Go get one that’s actually for winter.” 

Dustin groans. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” You take the cap off his head, flinging it in the direction of the couch. 

Dustin’s eyes roll hard, but he doesn’t waste time arguing. You watch over your shoulder as he turns around and hikes back upstairs. 

When you turn back, Eddie’s watching you. His hands have found their way into his pockets and a look you don’t like into his eyes. 

“Oh,” he says, “I get it.” You feel your eyebrows go up, but Eddie seems almost smug. “I solemnly swear to do no harm to both of our favorite munchkin. How’s that?” 

“I’d feel better if you’d stop having your meetings in weird secretive spots like the AV room.” 

“We need privacy to play.” 

“And a bunch of super private, dark corners, apparently.” 

"There aren’t that I know about,” Eddie says, his eyes flickering down you as his smile spreads again. “Though I’m sure we could find some, if that’s what you’re getting at.” 

Irritation flashes through you fast and hot. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Not what I was getting at.” 

“You sure?” Eddie’s grin is wolfish. 

“Very sure.” 

“You don’t want to come with us, do you? Check it out for yourself?” 

“Only to make sure Dustin is safe.” 

“If you want to spend time with me, you can just say so.” 

“Okay, can we please go?” Dustin’s voice startles you, and you turn, your shoulder knocking into Eddie’s chest. You hadn’t realized he was that close. Dustin frowns. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.” You take a step back from the door. Clear your throat. “Yeah, that hat looks better.” 

“Glad it has your approval.” Dustin rolls his eyes and moves past you. “We’re going to be late.” 

“Rest thine worry, oh mighty Nog.” Eddie claps Dustin’s shoulder as he goes by. His gaze returns to you a moment later, uncomfortably warm. “The campaign can’t resume without the dungeonmaster. Still want to come investigate?” he asks you. 

You cross your arms more tightly across your chest. “I think I’ll sit this one out.” 

he tries to shake the thoughts out of his head—useless, as always, because you're still here. and as long as you are around the thoughts in his head will not cease. you, you all you, his heart screams, its voice somehow louder than his.

he hates it, he’s never wanted to shut his brain off so hard. but he resigns, he’s always been resilient—head-strong, stubborn..in a more negative context. but with you, those barriers melted away quickly in a fiery blazing glory. 

what would you hands feel like on him ? he knows they’re soft from the way he sees you lotion them in the morning before class starts. he knows they’re warm from the accidental brushes of your skin against his that leave sparks in their wake, that licked up his spine when he’d embarrassingly shoot back like you’d electrocuted him before staring straight ahead pretending to listen to your teacher’s lecture, praying you didn't see the flush that grew on scrunched up his face. 

luckily for his pride, you never commented on it. you never comment on his lack of physical affection, despite you guys having been together for well over a month now. pathetic, he thinks. it shouldn’t be taking him this long to work up the courage to act more…boyfriend-ey.

if there's one he knows, is that he despises uncertainty. he hates the prickling in his bones when his insecurities gnaw on them. it makes him restless, irate. he hates feeling unsure, out of control in his own mind. but this was different—you were different. your entire being overrides everything he's used to. he's never truly felt the need to be physically or romantically close to anybody before, it just hasn't been a priority—if anything, he considered it a distraction. but with you, the need to be close wether to protect you or to reassure himself is so great it makes his stomach churn.

and you, sweet stupid little you and your patience. always waiting for him until he caught up with a smile and soft eyes just for him. somehow, that did more damage to his ego than his embarrassing predicament.

but while he thinks of how he could improve, his mind wanders. it wanders way ahead of him further than he can control it and maybe…maybe he doesn’t want to.

your hands. they’d probably feel really nice in his hair. scratch that, he knows they would. you sometimes pick lint out of the ends his hair and while he grunts about it, pretending to be annoyed, it takes way more restraint than he'd like to admit to stop himself from dragging your hand to his hair and leaving it there. forever, preferably. just being in that moment forever would probably be bliss.

your hands. they’d feel nice in his hair, but probably even nicer intertwined with his. yeah..that’d be nice, he thinks. and suddenly an image plasters itself in his mind; walking hand in hand with you, even if he doesn't know to where, but with your hand clasped in his, his fingers tangles with yours. warm and too warm—he hopes you'd ignore the slight moisture of his palms, gods...or your thumb brushing against the base between his thumbs and pointer finger and—

“what are you thinking about, hm ?”

katsuki is yanked out of his daydream with a harsh jolt, one that startles you too. you’d been smiling at him in that teasing way you do where katsuki knows you're gonna try to piss him off. but you jump a little at his reaction, smile faltering.

“katsuki ?” you ask, eyebrows tugged in worry. he wants to say something but his mind is scrambled, like when he someone speaks to him while the music in his headphones tangles with his words and he looses his train of thought. and while his mind races to pick between jumbled sentences he wonders how it’d feel if your hands were able to cradle his name.

“w—what ?” he answers dumbly, blinking at you. you blink too, tilting your head to the side. your smile slowly returns once you've done a quick once over of him, always so caring, damn you, and see no ailments.

“are you okay ? you spaced out a bit,” you whisper, speaking like it was his first day out a year long coma. it makes him squint at you and your smile widen. you’re idly tapping your finger onto your desk. 

tap, tap, tap. he can't stop looking—he has to stop. you'd just asked him something and if he couldn't come up with a half decent response for the second time in the next few seconds he’d jump out the nearest window.

“m’fine. wasn’t thinkin’ bout nothin’.” he mumbles. his eyes fly from your face to your hands and dart back to the front.

you giggle, proud you'd caught him in his obvious lie. you lean forward slightly, gaze teasing. “nothing at all ? come oooon, tell me. i won't laugh, swear !” 

“you're a shit liar.” katsuki frowns.

you pout at him, quietly hissing back “i said swear ! i promise, scouts honour !” 

katsuki doesn't grace you with a response and simply shushes you, grabbing your chin and urging you to keep listening to your teacher. you laugh with an exaggerated grumble and slump back in your seat.  

katsuki almost lets out a sigh of relief, but he's too tense to allow himself to. but his thoughts continue to itch at him. he can't afford to stay a loser. so slowly, with all the courage his tensed, wound up body can muster, his hand inches closer to yours. barely, his hand brushes yours.

you freeze and for a split second he wants to run. every bone in his body tells him to, but your pinky touches his and like you're a magnet he's rooted in place and pulled only towards you. but he thinks, after swallowing the harsh lump in his throat that he wouldn't mind being stuck here for a while. this stupidly boring lecture drones on, but he wouldn't mind if it went on for just a few more seconds of your hands inching closer and closer, yours halfway onto his.

selfishly, his body aches more, more more. more of your hands, more of your touch, more of you and your smiles even if their sole purpose was to piss him off. he'd only wanted to hold your hand, but now his body craves more. how would your arms feel wrapped around him next ? hands splayed across his back. fuck, he bets that'd feel nice...

he can't hear what the hell the professors saying anymore over the beat of his heart in his ears, his body burns from head to toe.

you’ve suddenly become restless. it's subtle, but it's you and with you, he sees it all. he sees that little way your foot shuffles against the carpeted floor.  and when he sneakily glances to his side you're trying and failing to hold back a small smile. your fingers twitch, then—tap, tap, tap softly against his.

this isn't fully what he'd imagined, but he'll take it for now. and just like he’d imagined, even just like this, you're hand feels pretty damn nice against his.

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𓏼𝜗℘

she.

she was mesmerizing, glowing, astonishing.

it was around 9 pm, a warm summer night. he wanted to get a neapolitan ice cream and a soda to watch one piece comfortably until his eyelids closed. 

that’s when he first saw her. quick trips to the convenience store had never felt as intriguing as this one. the dim lights, flickering every now and then, made her hair and her foreign eyes look like the brightest beacons in the place.

her, who didn't feel the cold inside the store because the oversized black hoodie hugged her body perfectly, wrapping her up to protect her from the night. when she stepped outside and sweat began to run down her skin, would she take it off?

her, who stood on her tiptoes just to graze a ramen cup on the highest shelf with her fingertips, pushing it into her small basket where some drinks and cookies already sat. why not asking for help?

her, who smiled at the boy behind the counter as soon as he started scanning the things she’d be taking home. she even lowered her head when she reached out to hand over the cash. and her cheeks flushing as she left, struggling to push the glass door that clearly had a "pull" sign on it… why hadn’t she asked him to help?

her, who walked away with the plastic bag in her left hand, unbothered as if the darkness of the sky couldn't hurt her, some podcast or song playing in her ears. where could she be going? what kind of music could she like? what could be her name? how old could she be?

her, so pretty and so innocent. it was a shame he couldn't go back to the convenience store every night to wait for her to walk in and watch her once more, since that would be too stalker-ish, right?

so he left it to fate. which is funny, because he didn’t believe in fate.

he visualized, affirmed, listened to subliminal audios, scripted… he did everything he could for two weeks straight, daydreaming of her scent, so their paths would cross again.

𓏼𝜗℘

on a random tuesday morning, ohyul woke up before the sun did, brushed his teeth, changed into his sweatpants, tied his sneakers, and went out for a run, his water bottle in his right hand, his keys, wallet, and phone in his pockets.

passing through the park, he had to slow his pace at a familiar silhouette in the distance. the figure was heading toward him very slowly, without intention. 

was it her? was his manifestation finally coming?

yes, it was her, smiling at her phone. but this early? who, if not him, was stealing smiles from her? or maybe she just saw a very funny meme. or talking to a cousin.

yeah, surely it was that.

hopefully, one day, a woman like her would set her gaze on him. hopefully reality wouldn't play a trick on him, and his manifestation would fully come true soon.

two minutes passed. and the universe granted a heart’s pure wish. her, so enchanting, approached him as if she had something very revealing to tell. though he wouldn't mind if it was just to ask for the time or directions. he needed to hear her voice one more time to remember it better at night when he was alone.

to his surprise, she told him she knew him. that they graduated from the same school, that she was in a different class, that he was like a legend there.

he played dumb, acting as if he didn't recognize her from anywhere: not from school, and certainly not from the convenience store. then he asked for her name, to see if he had heard it from any of his classmates, but in fact, he had no clue. he waved politely at her, and they both went their separate ways.

how that bullshit worked is a mystery to all of us— not to him. now, with her name, he was the happiest man on earth as he headed back home. he didn't even finish the kilometers he aimed to run; he simply went home doing little jumps to look her name up on instagram, on tiktok, on x, on pinterest, on tumblr, on wattpad... everywhere he could think of just to gather tiny pieces of information on who she was.

but he fell in love just like that. seeing her pictures in places she liked, videos lip-syncing to royal 44’s songs, selfies with messy hair and bare face... oh, and based on one of her X reposts from two months ago, she is single! what a win, isn’t it?

𓏼𝜗℘

she.

she was finally his.

that one tuesday night, he was courageous enough to send a request on instagram. he let the weeks go by after she followed back, occasionally dropping a like to her stories, occasionally going to the convenience store for no reason with an enormous hope to run into her.

he needed her to think that this was all casual and unplanned, flowing naturally, taking both of them by surprise.

that was four months ago. now it’s october. the temperature has lowered and so his obsession with her now that he had finally asked her to be his, and oh, she said yes.

poor her. she didn’t know she actually had no other choice. thankfully, he didn’t say something so wrong for her to find that out this early…

but hey, he was a good man. posted her all over his social media, gave her flowers just for existing, praised her even on the good morning texts, planned dates, wrote poems and letters, held her hand everywhere they’d go, paid for her stuff, and all the meals they enjoyed together… all that he did before, was for love.

for her to be this loved. because no one else would love her this much. and if someone dared… let’s not think about it. if he can’t have her, no one should. then, no one will. oh, what he could be capable of. what wouldn’t he do?

it’s not worth overthinking. she was happy. that’s all that matters. she had no complaints. she was satisfied. her smile was proof. the fact that she hadn’t run away (yet) was enough proof. 

𓏼𝜗℘

she.

she was starting to annoy him.

she was too loud sometimes with her opinions. and hung out with her besties every saturday night, without him. what if she was laughing at other males’ jokes? why did she have the audacity to live her life away from him?

the requests for her pin to track her location in case something happened started to feel more like a demand instead of a protective measure, just like the constant outfit checking before clubbing, which now took part even for cafe dates with her family. if the skirt was too short? off. if the neckline showed too much skin? off. if the dress was red? don’t even think about it.

all the love was turning into a ledger. the price of the flowers was her sns passwords. the price of the meals were pictures and calls to see who she was with. after all, he was the one who made this happen; he was the one who got his hands dirty to bring them together.

he was responsible for her happiness. so she owed him big time. and she was… trying to detach from him? how ungrateful and bratty.

and then she’d start crying like a baby when he wouldn’t answer her calls and ignored her once she was back home. as if she didn’t earn it… she didn’t seem to like having what she really deserved sometimes.

but hey, easy. that was just sometimes.

because then all the guilt would hit him right in his pretty face and eat all his cells to the core. he knew what he was doing. he knew he wasn’t supposed to. he just couldn’t do better.

he didn’t even know what to do with his life. for the past nine months, he had been living just for her. if she ever left… what would he live for if not trying to get her back?

he couldn’t afford to lose her, so he would apologize every time.

and since his apologies were so sincere, so heartfelt, so genuine… how could she not forgive him? the only thing he was doing was taking good care of her.

and then go back to the start. there’s no end to this. no start either. just a loop.

if only she left… poor her.

she was so in love to notice that being in love with him was all his fault too.

𓏼𝜗℘

she.

she was too much for him.

she'd take all the raises in his voice without trying to fight back.

she stopped going out all saturdays.

she threw all the clothes he didn't like.

she gave up on all her passwords.

she deserved better than him. and he knew it, though she didn't.

so after a year together he opened her cage for her to be free, on a random tuesday.

no one saw it coming, right? because not even he did. he just woke up to that and decided to listen to his mind.

as mentioned earlier, it's always on a random tuesday...

she told him to think about it better. that they could work it out... anyway, begging for her own imprisonment and all that stuff.

but he knew they couldn't. he knew he couldn't.

this was his nature. no amount of love could change that.

and he feared if one day he got too jealous then he'd…

let's not dive into that. some thoughts are better left unscripted.

but this was the right choice. breaking up and leaving her to die alone.

on this random tuesday. to commemorate where it all started...

he knew she wouldn't die from love. he knew that she would make it and continue growing happier. healthier. stronger.

as for him...

he would forever be a lovesick boy.

Adeline wants one perfect, beautiful only child. She feels she’d be the best parent she can be if she’s able to focus on developing one little human to the best of her ability. She’s also really busy. She ALSO doesn’t want to complicate any matters of inheritance, since she will be the next Baron. One kid is ideal. 

If you’d asked Balor this question before he came to Mistria, the answer would be a hard ZERO. He has changed his mind in light of his new circumstances (married to the love of his life and not living in a cart). He’s kinda flexible on number but he does want at least one. He thinks two sounds about right!

Caldarus he does not have a specific number in mind, but he would love to give you children and raise a family together.Maybe two or three young, only since that seems to be the average for human couples? He won’t deny you if you want more, and he won’t argue if you only want one. He doesn’t concern himself with human concepts of what makes a family “too big” or “too small.” That said, if it’s up to him…he’d somewhat prefer the former. 

In her daydreams, Celine always saw herself with one or two children. She doesn’t want a whole pack of little ones running around, despite being a very family-oriented gal. She wants to be able to give each of her children a lot of individual attention…aaaand she expects they’ll be unholy terrors in their early years just like her and Dell. So she’d like to keep the number small. 

Eiland did not necessarily see himself as a father throughout his early life, but he’s also always known he would be a pretty good one. He comes around to the idea more and more the longer he’s with you. He kind of just wants one, but he’s totally open to more...to an extent. He doesn’t think he could handle more than three. That’s so many little ones to be keeping track of in the field. That’s too many little feet that could fall in a hole on a dig site. He would like a number of children he could carry in his arms if need be.

Hayden is the ultimate future father. He makes it very clear from the start that he’s always wanted a *big* family. If his partner can’t have biological children, that’s fine, but in that case Hayden WILL want to pursue adoption. He might suggest this even if you can get pregnant, because he knows that carrying a child is hard on the body, and you’ll need to stay on your feet to keep up with the Hayden Horde. He just loves kids. He’s aiming for five or six. 

March pretends he doesn’t want kids for a while. Acts SUPER uptight about birth control and family planning. Then one day, he realizes that if you have kids together, you basically can’t leave Mistria (and him) behind. This is extremely appealing to Mr. Abandonment Issues. Once he starts, he realizes that he loves being a dad and he's good at it, so you wind up having like….five kids. 

NONE, says Juniper. Having her own children is not really part of her plan. She’s more the cool fun witchy auntie type…but she has a secret soft spot for kiddos. If she gets knocked up, it will be by accident, but she’ll be surprisingly positive about it—she gets her own mini-me! She also won’t be particularly remiss about having no kids. She gets pestered by other peoples’ children often enough. 

Reina  has always wanted a family and she has always wanted exactly three children, just like how she grew up. She won’t be terribly upset if a fourth kid slips into the mix somehow. She would like them all to be closer in age than she is to Luc and Maple, though. Reina does not want one of her children to wind up becoming a sort of “third parent” to the younger ones, since that kiiiind of happened with her. 

…

Sirius came bustling into the dorm room with you following closely behind, both damp from Sirius’ post-practice shower that you had clearly been invited to. 

“Gods, that was nice.” Sirius sighed as he fell back, spreadeagle on his bed.

You snorted as you ran a towel through your hair before tossing it at Sirius. “Would have been even better had you and James stopped snickering to one another through the bathroom door.”

Remus let out a snicker at that, earning him a knowing smile from you and a salacious smirk from Sirius.

“Hiya, Moons.” 

“Good practice?” Remus asked awkwardly as he repositioned himself in his chair.

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement as he watched you change into a pair of comfies with a hungry expression. “Just sore now, but this one’s offered to help me on that end.”

You snorted at him again but Remus noticed a slight hint of bashfulness as you pulled a shirt over your head. “You’re such a flirt.”

Sirius made a low sound in the back of his throat as he positioned himself on his elbows; eyes still glued to your form. “Can you blame me? You look good enough to eat.”

And fuck did Remus know it. He watched as the last sliver of skin disappeared as the bottom of your shirt met the top of your joggers, which Remus mourned the loss of. He found he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through your wet hair and see if he couldn’t convince you to take that shirt back off.

What was wrong with him?

Not only had Remus never even been with a guy, but he was also fantasising about his best friend's boyfriend? He felt like a fraud and just downright despicable. 

Remus had a rather sheltered upbringing; living in the rural coast of Wales whilst being unable to attend school with the village kids meant a lack of exposure to, what his mother would call, less traditional lifestyles. 

Remus enjoyed girls, he knew that because he’d experienced girls. Sirius enjoyed boys, Sirius knew that because, well, he’d experienced boys. And that drove Remus barmy. 

Because you either liked girls, or you liked boys, right? 

So how come he felt as though he’d be equally happy should you or Sirius fall into his bed as he would with the likes of Emmeline Vance? 

“Don’t you agree, Moony?” Sirius asked, startling Remus from his gay panic musings only for him to find the two of you staring at him.

“Sorry?” Remus choked out, causing Sirius’ smirk to grow both wider yet somehow softer.

“Doesn’t he look good enough to eat?” He asked again, using his head to gesture towards you where you seemed to grow somewhat shy.

“Siri…”

“I’ve seen you lookin’, Moons.” Sirius continued regardless of your warning. “First it was just me and I couldn’t really blame you, but now I’m starting to see a trend.”

Remus felt nauseous; Sirius would hate him, surely? Ogling him and his boyfriend like some pervert. 

“M’sorry, Pads.” Remus whispered hastily as he closed his book and made to stand. 

“Whoa, whoa, hang on.” Sirius stopped, standing from his bed to stand in front of Remus with his hands up in surrender; his towel falling sinfully lower on his hips. “I only asked in case you wanted to…you know, join?”

“Join?” Remus parrotted, looking between you and Sirius only to find your eyes glued to the side of Sirius’ face. 

“Well aren’t you curious at all? Isn’t that what all the staring is about?” Sirius continued, his hands falling more relaxed now as he opted to lean against one end of his four-poster bed. 

“Have you ever been with a guy, Remus?” You asked softly then.

“Uh, well, no.” Remus responded horribly awkwardly. 

“Do you want to try?” You continued, smiling at him with nothing but kindness.

And Remus tried.

He tried to search your face for any signs of malcontent, taunting, mischief, or jealousy. But all he found was understanding. 

“Do you want one of us to leave? Do you want to watch? Do you-”

“Watch.” Remus blurted quickly, cutting Sirius off mid-sentence. 

And if getting caught had been his first mistake, that had been his second - agreeing.

Because what had started as Remus watching quickly turned into you offering to do the same for him, which quickly turned into Remus offering the same in return, which then officially found Remus naked, panting, and satiated on his back in Sirius’ bed. 

“You alright, Moons?” Sirius asked half-teasingly, half-earnestly as he rose from his bed to look down at Remus who was still holding onto you for dear life. 

He suddenly felt like he was intruding, which was hilarious considering what the three of you had just done, and Remus tried to ignore the slightly hurt expression that crossed your face when Remus ripped his hands away from you as if they burned.

“Erm, yeah, yeah! No, I’m uh…I’m fine, good.” 

“Do you have any questions?” Sirius continued, one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows arched in scepticism. 

Remus groaned and covered his face with his hands. “None that you can answer, I don’t think.” 

“Why don’t you try us?” You offered then, standing from the bed and retrieving your clothes and tossing Remus’ at him as well. 

“Does this mean that I’m gay?” Remus all but whispered, though Sirius’ surprised bark of laughter let him know that the two of you did, in fact, hear it. 

“This doesn’t have to mean you’re anything, Remus.” You chuckled as you elbowed your boyfriend chidingly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” Sirius apologised as he wiped a tear from under his eye. “This is just so funny because you were my gay awakening.”

Remus felt light headed as he blurted “what!?”, looking to you in horror of what Sirius just admitted only to find you laughing. 

“I had always sort of known that girls didn’t exactly…do it for me, but I remember in fourth year you came back about a foot taller and had an ear piercing and then I knew that boys definitely did do it for me.”

“I guess I have you to thank then, Remus.” You said with a wink, and Remus felt his already furious blush migrate down his torso. 

“But…I still think I like girls, too.” Remus mused aloud.

“You’re allowed to like both, Moons.” Sirius emphasised with a nudge to his shoulder. “Or neither, or everyone or whatever…you also don’t need to figure any of that out right now.”

“But now at least you can know that it’s not just in your head, yeah?” You continued.

“Yeah.” Remus agreed breathlessly. “Yeah, thank you…both.”

Sirius laughed again and looked like he found some renewed energy. “No, thank you; fourth year Sirius would die to know I finally got you in my bed.”

“I’ll certainly be fantasising about that for a while.” You continued with a smirk.

Yes.

Remus made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Two mistakes, perhaps.

Because he was officially, well and truly fucked (read: pretty well officially gone for his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend).

What lead me to this project, what inspired it?

I've had this planned for like 2 months beforehand and ive been daydreaming about designing tshirts since i was like 15, I finally got to it now because i graduated from graphic design and finally have time on my hands to do fun new artsy projects!

For the topic I wanted something cyberpunky and original at the same time. Recently ive been getting into more electronic music and fell in love with the album I Love My Computer by Ninajirachi–i related to it a lot, because ive also grown up with really only my computer by my side and its also how i got into digital art, which felt like the perfect idea for a "debut" drop of my t-shirts!

For the designs I wanted to focus on the iconic, nowadays daily, tropes and cliches in computers, and i decided that i want to have separate designs for the hardware and software parts of computers. They're women only because i love drawing women and i wanted to make them very pretty lol

Behind the scenes

I started the project by sketching concepts for the girls, adding the transcript of my horrendous handwriting in the ALT.

Also, since I knew from the start i wanted to focus simply on the outline in white and use one accent color, there was no need to go behind just the sketch, so this is kinda the only BTS content that exists lol

hardware girl

software girl

After these i headed straight to creating the designs themselves.

I started with Software girl in the morning and I finished it before going to bed, literally blinked and saw my discord status say ive had krita opened for 10 hours lol. Decided to take 2 days on each design after that.

This is also the first project for which ive planned to make some marketing material for. Since most of my audience is on youtube, it was kinda a no-brainer, I just had to make a video ad. Luckily my good friend Michael released an album with fitting cyberpunky beats like a year ago, so I had a safe and fitting song to use, cut it into a half a minute clip and it went swimmingly from there. Although i needed 2 small clips with the shirts in-person, so I needed to pray and wait for my shirts to deliver from redbubble.

Also this is the part where I need to introduce my beloved oomfie @paper012 that saw this getting created and gave me so much motivation and power to keep going – she is the other person in the ad!

My experience with Redbubble

I was looking into all the available options when it comes to Print on Demand, and redbubble was the only one which shipping didnt make me want to krill myself lol. They're partnered with printing studios around the world and always automatically choose the one closest to you, so you dont need to worry about customs at all, and from the POV of the artist, you dont need to worry about anything other than your designs and margins (your income in % from the products, i kept it at 10% so it's still cheap for buyers)

When it comes to getting paid, this is where it gets tricky. While earning only the set percentage of the order, you get paid monthly only if it crosses 10 dollars (which for me means around 10 shirts) and from that they take a percentage for themselves as a monthy "account fee". This percentage is 50% by default, 20% if your account is "premium", which the program already granted me somehow, probably an automatic thing if you make an x amount of designs/if they mark your designs as profitable, im not sure. This can be a dealbreaker to some artists, but I'm planning on getting a job anyway so I'm okay without a good pay.

I also wish there was a way to check how all those different types of shirts feel, how do they fit, how well it gets printed etc., because theres just so many types to choose from and it kinda feels spammy, i guess i would want to be able to have my products more curated instead of giving the buyers all those options to choose from that look VERY similar. To test that I would have to order all of the types for myself and i currently do not have budget for that.

I bought the classic shirts in size S (im sometimes XS, sometimes S) because they were cheaper and looked nice in the image. They arrived today and i honestly couldn't be happier! I was scared that it would be too slim (i prefer oversized tshirts) or that the printing dye would be baked directly into the clothing, making the design more muffled, but I was wrong! the shirt is slightly taller so its comfier for me and the design is baked on a layer on top of the clothing, which makes the design really pop.

Ending thoughts