#Balanced AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cryptidblue1 · 1 year

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Now that I've slept on this stupid idea, it branched into two paths in my head. I'm going to call them Balanced and Imbalanced for AU names and I'm just going to word spew for a bit in here.

This is probably going to be long, but maybe someone else will scream with me over these ideas. Thus joining me in this trash can I created and fell into.

So Balanced is basically what would happen if the Higher Beings would actually try and win the "Don't fight one another for territory" challenge. Mainly with Radi and the Void. Because let's be real with the few contextual clues we get in game regarding Radiance and the Abyss, Radi def fought some aspect of the Void when she moved in and took over the Hallownest area before Pale King showed up. Which actually gets into my thoughts on the entire Higher Beings need to balance one another out to keep their kingdoms from dying out like they have been in the canon timeline.

Like we kinda figure the Abyss was there first and had its worshipers and such, but since it's the Void that all will return to, it kinda had no checks or balances to keep it from doing what it naturally does. Add in my thinking that the Void got its Will and Mind from its worshipers at first it means that when they kinda started to die off from Void poisoning or got taken/killed off by those who came with or started to follow the Radiance it lost a lot of its ability to think and reason. Thus why Radiance actually won whatever slap fight they got into when she rolled on up.

Now if we go with the process that each Higher Being needs one to Balance it and they actually knew this on an instinctual level and didn't go "MINE" first when settling into a place I think that the Void and the Radiance are like that two halves of a coin thing. Their difference being Light/Dark and Dreams/End. But I am certain both use some form of a hivemind/togetherness regarding the mortals that follow them and empower them. (Which is a thought that goes into a whole Rant about why I think it's this hivemind aspect that actually explains a lot of why the Vessels behaved the way they did in canon.) That and imagine the kind of religion that would spring up when the followers get like the sweetest of a final dreams from the Radiance before the Void takes them at the end of their lives. Like that kinda sounds pretty comforting knowing that when your time comes that due to your faith you're going to go out dreaming the best dream you ever have before you just become part of the Void.

So with this partnership settling I could see them sorta halving Hallownest in general. Like from where Dirtmouth is down to what would be the City of Tears in game would be more Radiance inclined due to her whole Sun motif and thus her worshipers would want to be closer to the sky. (I'm going on the assumption that Dirtmouth actually can see the sky or is where you can go to get access to the sky.) Then from City of Tears area on down would be more where those that lean more towards Abyssal followings would be. Deepnest, The Hive, Greenpath, and City of Tears Area (Which I just know likely had a different name at some point but I"m too lazy to find/make one up right now.) would be more like neutral areas and not really part of either. Especially when Unn kinda vibed in and both sorta just let em because they weren't harming anyone and their influence actually helped out everyone in the long run with the vegetation and wildlands that were created from them existing there. (Fungal hellscape I'm pretending to not perceive for my own sanity.)

Which then kinda leads into the White Lady showing up from wherever she came from. Because I'm pretty sure she kinda was already there when the Pale King showed up. And White Lady kinda becomes the balance for Unn in that Unn is of the wilds and untamed wilderness and White Lady helps show how to cultivate and nurture wildlife for the benefits of the masses. Aka I'm making White Lady the one people ask for blessings to for agriculture and other horticulture aspects and thus make her whole Queen's Garden less her just yoinking land from Unn but them vibing and sharing a domain due to how similar their aspects are and being a lot more chill since they are a balance of one another. (I still think in canon WL just stole that land without a second thought but that's Thoughts for another time.)

So with all this everything kinda already has a strong foundation and flourishing kingdom set up that in no way needs the Pale King right? Well, not exactly. Because outside of the White Lady, and even then you could argue she also kinda does since Roots and such. All these Higher Beings are kinda a hivemind mentality. Which didn't rock the boat with Deepnest and the Hive since the Hive is all for that and Deepnest pretty much has the whole for the clan mentality alongside their survival of the strongest set up. So individuality isn't really a thing, and that kinda feels like a big part of the Pale King's schtick alongside with intellectual pursuits.

So Pale King is definitely needed to allow for individual growth which is what leads to innovation and growth of a kingdom through advancement. Though it likely was a bit Tense when he showed up, especially as I am 100% certain that wyrm kinda started simping very hard and quickly for White Lady when they first met. Though, I have no idea if there is any canon Higher Being that could balance Pale King in this regard since I think Grimm with how they set up the Nightmare Heart it would be more in the Hivemind aspect then individuality. So probably would just need an OC who is like creative inclined and likes to enhance people's individual artistry and likely drives Pale King up the wall because they are pretty opposite in how they do things/personality wise, but like after they get used to one another they basically do what friends with opposite personalities do. Where the OC would help drag PK out of the lab and get air, actually connect with people, etc. While Pale King would make sure the OC would stay on task and such.

So, yeah Hallownest goes through a really odd sort of growing pains era with all these beings all converging on this area. Which probably means that like there is something Significant with this area for why even in canon everyone keeps trying to own this area. Like a leyline or something that makes Hallownest like spiritual powerful.

The Vessels still happen, but in a more controlled and actually all of them living sort of way. Aka they kinda act as bridges/heirs/etc. for the various higher beings. Like some are full on children of the PK and WL and some are kinda created as a means to show the bugs of the kingdom that all the higher beings are you know working together. So like PV/Hallow would like be PK's heir and eldest and like Ghost is like a knight of the Void and Radiance hence why they have the Dream Nail and have a lot of Void powers. Hornet is still a child of PK and Herrah, more as a political move to tie Deepnest more to the rest of the kingdom when Herrah's husband die. So like various vessels have various abilities due to whichever group of deities helped create them.

So like it's a lot of political drama and small fights between factions as everyone kinda test boundaries and sets up what area of life falls under someone's domain. This kinda makes a pantheon of sorts within Hallownest which probably makes the Godseeker kinda try and roll up in here even more then they did before. Which could be interesting considering like bruh y'all could just join the society without that whole make everyone fight and assimilate thing.

Though, that could be like a cool antagonistic aspect that would cause the vessels to have to go feral on a hivemind. More so Ghost and Hornet would would both kick down the door with a few of their more violent siblings to go "This is the wrong neighborhood" at Godseeker when they all kinda realize what exactly Godseeker is up to in regards to their collective parents.

Also this is getting long and I haven't eaten lunch yet/done my dailies in XIV so I"m going to just leave it here for Balanced and do a different post for the Imbalance AU branch where things follow canon, to a point and it's up to the vessels to basically take over domains and balance Hallownest before it just falls apart.

#Hollow Knight #Hollow Knight AU talk #blue rambles #Balanced AU #Pale King #the radiance #hk void #hk white lady #hk pure vessel #hk ghost #hk hornet #but okay imagine the art and clothing styles to show which deity you mainly follow #especially when like you got a moth tribe with sunstone accessories mixed with like void black trimming on their clothing #or like someone with ivory vines for WL surrounding black opals or diamonds

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paxopalotls · 3 months

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stressed about chem exams so I did a ghost king doodle to cope

#I like the nonconventional crown designs tbh #the stars here are the Corona Australis and Corona Borealis #and ofc I had to throw in some northern lights #bc ice powers duh #I'd probably have added more constellations but I got lazy #there's a few that feel thematically appropriate #like the balance the microscope the hunter the chameleon #to name a few #danny phantom #danny phantom fanart #danny fenton #ghost king danny #ghost king au #pax art #pax doodles

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ecto-stone · 7 days

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DannyMay-Day 2- WISH.

#danny phantom #vlad plasmius #dani phantom #hachi doodles #Super Fairly odd parent AU #a bit of a context in this AU Super Powered god kid get one Fairy and one Anti-Fairy godparent to balance out #their moral development #dannymay2024

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north-noire · 2 months

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the father-daughter of all time based on this tweet and I had to just draw it with these two

#i promise i'm drawing for the asks i got + more art for the au stuff i just needed to take a break and needed a warm-up too #chapter 2 of the AU is still in the works so i need something funny to balance myself out XD #hidden hands au #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #fnaf au #henry emily #charlie emily #charlotte emily #fnaf henry emily #fnaf charlie emily #fnaf charlotte emily #my art #art

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shittyutmv · 3 months

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does ink still stink

i don't think we can fix him i think it's permanent ink by comyet dream by jokublog

#i used paint bucket tool. went significantly faster #i hate the paint bucket tool #makes me want to eat insulation #which is perfect for this blog #i need to get my hands on mspaint so i can get that gritty white unfilled space near the lines too #my friends draw too well i need to balance it out with uglier and uglier answers #-mod kip #🦑#badly drawn utmv #washing machine saga #utmv #undertale multiverse #undertale au #ink sans #dream sans

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 20 - "This better be good."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A green Vortex swirled in front of them and Constantine held his breath. This was not like any of the summonses he usually did. He looked over his shoulder at the others present, wondering if he could somehow bullshit his way out of this. But one thing was clear, whatever he had summoned was not one of his demons.

The Vortex continued to swirl before them, slowly greenish smoke started to rise out of him. Then suddenly a melody started to echo around them and Constantine felt like face palming.

"Uh… isn't this the Melody of This is Halloween?" The Flash asked aloud, exchanging glances with the others present.

"Constantine." Great Bats was getting grumpy, the JL Dark member thought, refusing to turn around to face any of the heroes. Ignoring them might make them stop questioning what was happening with this summon. It wasn't like there were any pressing situations, forcing this summon in hopes to prevent whatever interdimensional war Trigon was about to start. No, they hadn't forced him out and away from the curse he had been working on. Not like there were other members of the JL Dark, Constantine clearly knew the big bad Bat liked to work more with than him.

Humming resounded from the vortex now too, clearly depicting the chorus of the well known Halloween song, and John's eye twitched. The fuck kinda demon spirit did he summon now? Was whatever he summoned making fun of him just because that being got summoned in October? The rising smoke started to move, taking on a shape that appeared more humanoid as the humming started to become clearer though it sounded like it was filtered through static as it still sounded somewhat distorted.

"Shadow is the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing green! Spectra is the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in her hair."

The voice echoed sounding like a mix of static and white noise but became clearer the more or the green smoke escaped from the vortex. None of them really knew what was going on and Constantine was cursing up a storm in his mind. What the hell was happening right now, he just wanted to get the Spirit of Balance to help them out with Trigon? They were supposed to symbolize balance, surely they would have the easiest time to fix that imbalance the demon was about to wreck across dimensions.

"In this zone we call home, everyone hails to the ghost-like song! In this zone, don't we love it now? Clockworks' waiting for the next surprise!" The smoke was twirling around and moving like they were picking something up from inside the vortex, its shape still smokey but slowly Constantine was able to make out certain shapes of the head and arms as the voice continued to hum and then sing the static was more and more receding.

"Freakshow is the clown with the thermos to his face, sucked up in a flash and gone without a trace. I am the who when you call, 'Who's there?'. Dani is the wind blowing through your hair. Dan is the shadow on the moon at night, Frighty filling your dreams to the brim with fright!" The voice was now very clear, no interference, the smoke had fully formed a human-like body and appeared to be a white haired teen boy, though John noted, his summon was turned with his back to them appearing not to notice him or the heroes in the room and holding… Was that a Halloween party garland?

"This is Halloween, this is Hallo- who the fuck are you guys?" Mid lyrics the kid appeared to have turned around his arms raised like he was going to hang the garland of cut out pumpkins on a wall. White green eyes stared at them before the summoned eyes went to the garland in his hands that were then quickly hidden behind the teens back.

"Spirit of balance-"

"It's Ancient actually."

The spirit, ancient, cut in and Constantine hurried to correct his mistake. "Ancient of balance, we are the Justice League and have summoned you to seek your help…" Constantine started his usual spiel, ignoring Green Lantern's mutter of if that kid really was the spirit of balance as well as the judging looks and burning glare he felt on his back from Batman. He was not going over with them again about the fact that demon, spirits, ghost and the likes can look like whatever the fuck they wanted.

"Okay, stop!" The summoned teen held up a hand before John could continue. "I was in the middle of an important Halloween themed stabilization party preparation! To finally celebrate Dan after Dani pestered him for months! So this better be good, to get in the way of my first fight free weekend in years!"

"A war with demons is about to start." Constantine's head whipped around to glare at Batman, does he need to hold another course of how to properly communicate with interdimensional beings?

"That's Demon Realm Issues, not Ghost related. Could you humans stop mixing us up? I am not even from the same dimension as them and we have enough troubles with them breaching the Ghost Zone borders every month!" The summoned teen arched an eyebrow at them, crossing his arms and bringing that damned Halloween garland back into view again. They clearly didn't want to be here and if Constantine knew anything about unwilling summons then one wrong world could screw them all over right now.

"Trigon is the one starting it." Batman added and once more the JL Dark member sent the Dark knight a seething glare. That hypocrite put him through a lecture about hero behavior and cautions before, John would return the favor once the crisis was handled.

"Trigon?" His head whipped around to look at the suddenly very interested ancient of balance floating over to Batman.

"What did that big toddler do now?" It appeared like the Ancient was talking to themselves more than them as he crossed his arms completely forgetting about the wall decoration in his hands as they tilted their head in thoughts and started to ignore them. They were mumbling something John couldn't hear, for once he wished Superman was around so he could tell them with his super hearing.

"I have no idea who you guys are but, fine! I will help but only because Dan mentioned wanting to fight that overgrown toddler again. That's going to be his stabilizing day present! He can't complain this way that I got him something lame."

Constantine was about to sigh a breath of relief until he noticed the Ancient of Balance opening a good damn vortex and pulling out a snarling, red glowing eyed and blue flamed haired spirit by the neck. He paled then realizing that the being of balance just pulled the Spirit er Ancient of Wrath into their dimension. John then also noticed what appeared to be a little girl hanging like a koala of Wrath's back and then remembered a passage in the summoning text of the Spirit of Balance, he apparently had carelessly ignored.

Summoning Balance, Wrath and Mischief always stuck together. Sweating heavily, Constntine ignored any and all looks sent his way, because he was sure he might have just doomed their Dimension or at least plunged them into chaos for the time being.

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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warlock wizard Wally scribbles... Thinkings! oh and a bonus bard-ish Barnabys in the corner for flavor

outfit ramblings:

first of all that is a Terrible rendition of what Home looks like in my head. i just needed to fill empty space </3

the staff was the toughest part honestly. bc it Had to be paintbrush-themed, but then halfway through scribbling i was like "oh shit. there are only so many ways to draw a paintbrush-wizard-staff and Weevmo already hit it out of the park." so if you're seeing similarities! you're right! i tried to make it as different as i could! there is Inspiration from their marvelous design, however accidental or subconscious! Apologies!

he gets a pointed hood instead of a hat because a) it looks great on him! and b) it has less of a chance of messing up his hair! also c) it helps muddle the difference between Wizard and Warlock. typically hoods have evil/duplicitous connotation - blur the lines! i want his long gloves and forearm wraps to have the same vibe. his neckerchief is a big help in hiding Home's seal!

his layered (loosely apple-themed) capelet (which the hood is attached to) has a nice high collar & hides the details of his loose shirt - eye embroidery! and some flowers on the shoulders but yk, mostly eyes. on one side of the shirt buttons has open eyes, the other side they're closed! there's also one big eye on his back!

his belt buckle is two halves of an apple! he wears tall thigh-high boots w/ low heels to feel Taller! he has a book-holster hooked to the back of his belt, which holds his grimoire! and he has a lil thigh-bag that has been magicked to be Bottomless and warps size! he can fit pretty much anything in there! canvases! paint! apples!

his half-skirt thing (idk what the word for it is!) is really plush, like a quilt - his capelet is the same fabric. soft, cozy. sometimes he'll use the skirt thing as a blanket in a pinch, or as a picnic placemat!

is his outfit a little Complicated? is it annoying to replicate? yes and yes. but im a maximalist at heart and Nothing But The Best for the blorbo <3 layers my beloved <3

#i know ive said it before but whenever i make an au its essentially an Exploration in a sense #and this fantasy au ~Bog Edition~ is basically me going #'so wally and his house huh. whats up with that'#and maybe im taking it a bit to the extremes #since home is pretty much warlock wally's god??? sorta? loosely??#well it literally gave wally life and a body. so.#and it also literally took the place of his heart - wally Cannot live without home #they have a fun 'we cant exist without each other now' codependent very devoted kinda unhealthy relationship #wally sometimes has to do terrible things for home #and home will do terrible things in return for wally. even when wally doesnt want them to #and they both love each other very much <3 what kind of love is it <3 fuck if i know! theyre Weird About It though #its the only dynamic an ancient lovecraftian horror & the puppet they gave life & tethered itself to can have!!!#wally wisely keeps home & his 'warlock' status a secret from his friends for as long as he can #they just dont understand his & home's bond smh #scribble salad #welcome home #wh fantasy au #gonna have to workshop barns....#i need to balance the fantasy + hes a distinguished fella + bard #hence the hat. the hat stays.#gotta find the right vest...#and then everyone else if i feel like it....#outfit design is so Grueling but i refuse to keep it simple #there have to be LAYERS it has to be IN CHARACTER i have to put ALL THE EFFORT INTO IT

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saphushia · 1 year

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|| part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 coming soon... ||

man sabo really thought he'd get away from ace that easy, huh? well tough shit buddy you just got the attention of one of the most stubborn men on the seas. i do wonder how this'll play out now that sabo's cornered... hehe >;3

textless versions below the cut for those who want to look at. pictures <3

(skipped page 5 due to. y'know. it not having any dialogue)

#see this is why i don't give estimations on when updates will come #because literally 3 days ago someone asked when part 2 was coming and i said at least a week or so cause i only had 1 page done #and then i just got in the grove and cranked out 3 1/2 pages in 2 days dfkghsdjkf #consistant workflow? what's that lol #warlord!ace au #one piece #sabo one piece #sabo the revolutionary #portgas d ace #hmmm koala's here but i don't think enough to tag her #cause she's entirely offscreen #ah well #art #comic #warlord!ace au update #feels wierd to post textless because like. the bubbles are a very important part of the page balance #but i'm also the kind of nerd who likes to look at that sort of thing so i get it akjbdfkgj #i'm posting this so late but whatever. your welcome uhhhh australians? maybe? sdfkbgk #pleaaase let there be no more errors i've corrected like 4 since starting the post and i'm so worried i'll post it and find another

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emry-stars-art · 4 months

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“Now do mers kiss or is this a little surprise nuzzle” i like to think they do both but the idea of them surprising each other with little nuzzles is so dear to me

I think jellyneil does eventually learn how to control its sting but. Andrew you startled him 🥲

#apparently it is unofficially #kiss a ginger day #???#so I HAD TO #and yes I know Neil is not a ginger #which is why I drew a not-technically-Neil #that’s how math works right it balances out #and I’ve missed themmmmmmm #the mers :)#also trying out new hair for Neil? hmmmm #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #asks #mer au #oops all mers au #sharkdrew #jellyneil

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ekat-fandom-blog · 1 year

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Balance

Danny didn't hate the Justice League for never showing up to deal with the world ending things he dealt with. He's not been upset with them over this since he learned about overshadowing being a thing.

That is, he wasn't upset with them. Until he met Dan. Dan who had killed the Justice League. Dan who had destroyed the world. Dan who had told him about Justice League Dark. The secret magic division of the Justice League that apparently could have dealt with the bs Amity Park has been through since the portal opened.

They had the resources to avoid being overshadowed and they were, even just one of them, powerful enough to have taken down Fright Knight or Vlad or Pariah Dark. Instead they'd marked Amity a "no fly zone" and promptly ignored the town. Their reason? Danny was already taking care of it.

So years later, he's King of the Infinite Realms and being summoned by the Justice League. (in all his kingly regalia of course) He's being rather belligerent whenever one of the magic members start talking, but is rather friendly towards the others. When asked why he mentions Amity Park.

The JLD's reply? The Embodiment lord of Balance is taking care of that place.

#dp x dc #dc x dp au #embodiment of balance!danny #ghost king danny #danny is confused #“what do you mean i'm the embodiment of balance?”#dc x dp prompt #feel free to steal #or add on #danny's the lord of balance like how klarion and fate are lords of chaos and order

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lonicera-caprifolium · 7 months

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I saw The Creator the other day, and honestly Crowley and 5 year old Jesus roadtripping around trying to find Aziraphale would be a great time

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #a.j. crowley #and 5 year old girl Jesus #the movie is really really gorgeous #based on a few points #I think an actual AU would make just sliiiightly more sense with Crowley as Maya #(or as a fully reverse thing in which they're both simulants with a regular human child...)#but Joshua's personality is pretty balanced for either role #so

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2hoothoots · 29 days

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i doubt it's your style not to get / what you set out to acquire, the eyes are on fire you are the unforecasted storm

quick painty thing i did most of on saturday and finished up this evening. the thing about this guy is that he's always posing

#got away from me a little bit but i think it came together #future superstar agents au #fsau raz #polish #i did it again! i posted late at night when i had my screen dimmer on and couldn't check the colour balance! well i'm sure it's fine

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mirabritart · 22 days

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mp100 age swap au comic as part of my contractual obligation to @jascurka. I actually thought of this joke ages ago but needed an excuse to make this. My only regret is that I couldn't work in the phrase "Mob-omobile"

comic script under the cut!

panel 1

[Adult Mob in a dark gray suit and dark blue tie walks side-by-side with young Reigen, who wears a middle school uniform]

Reigen: It would be like a mobile office. We could keep salt and other supplies in the trunk. And it would look super

Mob: [cutting him off] We're not getting a company car

panel 2

[Reigen looking pout-y]

panel 3

Reigen: Well why not!

panel 4

[panel shows Reigen's text bubble slightly obscured by Mob holding a neutral expression]

Reigen: We did that job for Ms. Asagiri and I know she's rich because I saw her house. I don't know what you do with all the money we make because it's definitely not going into my paycheck and I know you don't have a girlfriend.

panel 5

Mob: [slightly smiling] I suppose I could make some room in the budget.

panel 6

Reigen: [bouncing up and down with excitement] REALLY?

panel 7

[panel shows Mob's speech bubble over Reigen looking crestfallen]

Mob: I'd just need to stop buying snacks for the office. And we'd have to stop going out to eat.

panel 8

[panel shows Mob and Reigen side by side again. Reigen is smiling with his eyes closed and talking with his hands while Mob looks on with a soft smile]

Reigen: Y'know I actually don't mind the train! Plus cars require a lot of expensive upkeep, and the gas is terrible for the enviroment.

#mp100 #mp100 fanart #mp100 ageswap #shigeo kageyama #reigen arataka #my art #fan art #comic #I'm constantly trying to balance drawing mp100 characters in a style that feels natural to me but theyre still recognizable #cause my style is very different I feel #kinda feel like reigen looks like Blonde!Ritsu here but maybe that's unavoidable in this au #also hi jascurka I love ur work!

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toastydumpster · 1 year

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me and the abomination I pulled by being madly in love with life.

#you can CLEARLY TELL I have a specific taste in ships #anyway thinking about these old men as usual #johnchurch #merle highchurch #john hunger #The Adventure Zone #taz balance #glamour au #my art

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soapskneebrace · 1 year

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gravity

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: General audiences Word Count: 3.9k Warnings: none Author's Notes: LIKE CHILEAN MINERS (iykyk). I want to express a tidal wave of thanks to everyone for waiting so, so patiently for this chapter. Life got hard and is remaining so, but the kindness I have received has been so incredibly comforting. Please enjoy the longest chapter of Neighbors I have written to date. Also a HUGE shoutout to Lev @yeyinde as ALWAYS for her advice, the pub is a direct result of her guidance. MASTERLIST Now on Ao3!

It’s a cold and windy morning that, as you hover just a little closer to his warmth, you ask him about decent places to eat nearby.

“Fancy pub food?” he asks in response, and it takes you a moment to process what he’s said. Today he’s in a thick, soft-looking knit sweater, which makes it infinitely difficult not to imagine huddling up against him.

You think he’d let you. You’re not sure how you know this. Maybe it’s the way he positions himself next to you, standing at an angle toward you just slight enough to be casual, but open enough to be purposeful. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to warm you up with his eyes alone—he asked you once why you always bundled up to be outside, and you told him you were just sensitive to the cold.

Since then, you’ve often caught him checking on you, surreptitiously. Simple once-overs that you think are searching for evidence of discomfort.

What would he do, you wonder, if he found any? Would he send you inside, as he had the first morning?

Part of you thinks that would be better. It would give you an out, open up a path diverting away from whatever this thing is that hangs in the air between you and John Price, this thing that you pass back and forth between the pages of borrowed books.

It’s a thing that breathes with the both of you into the early morning, and you don’t know how to look at it. You don’t understand its shape. It’s a thing you wish you wanted to walk away from.

“Who doesn’t?” you reply, sipping at the cold dregs in your cup.

“How ‘bout tonight, then?” John says, and you swallow a little too quickly.

“W-what about tonight?”

He smiles at you, as if he’s thrown you off on purpose. “Dinner, on me.”

You blink several times. “You—I—I mean—really?”

He shrugs, easy and casual as you wish you could be. “Could show you what’s best on the menu. And I wouldn’t mind having dinner with someone besides m’self.”

You hesitate, because your gut reaction is to say yes, John, I’d like nothing more, and that is not a reaction you want to satisfy. These past several mornings have been nice—nicer than you could have expected. You’ve stopped interrogating yourself as to why you keep bothering, because each time his smile greets you as you step outside is answer enough. The routine has been easy to settle into, even comforting.

You need to protect that comfort, you know, even from the allure of something more.

John does not press for an answer, seeming content to savor the last few inhales of his cigar. You wonder if he’s guessed at your inner conflict, wonder if the quiet he’s giving you is an intentional moment to sort yourself out.

He never presses for anything, ever.

“I suppose I could meet you after work,” you finally say.

The smile that breaks across his face nearly knocks you off your feet. You’re relieved when he says, “Sounds good to me,” because if he’d said it’s a date you think you might have dissolved on the spot.

John texts you the pub’s address, and it’s close enough to walk to. You arrive that evening, in your usual two coats plus a knitted hat, to find that the place exceeds a set of expectations you didn’t know you had. The patio seating is closed in with a white picket fence and hung with strings of fairy lights, and it flanks a red brick building with a large, friendly lantern hanging over the door.

You might have expected something a little grubbier, if you’d given the place any more thought beyond this is John’s pub and he’s having me for dinner here.

Warm air envelops you as you step inside, and your gaze is drawn as if by a magnet to a table further in—John has already seen you, and beckons you over with a wave.

He’s still in the knit sweater, and his fleece jacket is hanging on the back of the seat across from him. He stands as you approach, rounds the table, and pulls that chair out for you when you join him.

You don’t know why the chivalry makes you falter, makes you want to turn and sprint all the way back home. All you know, as you sit down, is that you can practically feel the aura of his presence behind you as he helps push your chair in, can feel it move as he leaves your side to return to his seat. You feel yourself gravitate into it, leaning a little over the table as if trying to keep it close.

“This place is tidy,” you say earnestly, trying for that morning normalcy, as you begin to shuck your layers.

“It’s alright,” he agrees. He’s smiling gently, the cool blue of his eyes vivid in the contrast of warm lamplight.

“Do you—” and then you can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a cliche question “—do you come here often?”

He grins, huffs that little laugh. “Too often,” he says as he sits back in his chair, putting a hand on his stomach. “It’ll start showing soon, probably.”

You look at the flat of his stomach, the broad paw of his hand. Remember the trim waist of that very first morning. “You know, somehow I doubt that.”

He meets you eyes, laughs again, and it warms you to the bone.

Seeing him like this, at night, is an unknown quantity. The John you know how to interact with exists on his front doorstep, painted in the cool palette of sunrise, cold air, cigar smoke. This tableau, composed upon the table between you, might as well turn him into another man entirely. Who is this John, awash in warm light, nearly twelve hours older than the man you spoke to this morning? Who are you, now, seeing him after work and before the end of the night?

You feel a little untethered. Your feet still itch for the door, for the measured, predictable floorboards of your own home.

Maybe John notices, because he takes a menu from the stack of two at the end of the table and offers it to you with a reassuring lift of his brows. “Hungry?”

That question, at least, has an easy answer. You smile a little. “Starving.”

His advice turns out to be necessary—everything looks good, and you both end up ordering too much food. Over a spread of fresh, hot chips, halloumi kebabs, and katsu chicken served liberally with curry sauce, John also has a bottle of scotch brought to the table.

“No, that’s too much!” you protest as the waitress sets the decanter down with two clean glasses. “John, really.”

He sets to pouring, his expression pleased, though you’re not sure what about. “Humor me, love. I don’t get to share very often.”

He hands you a glass, and lifts his own above the food. You acquiesce, and clink the rims.

“Do I take a shot or a sip?” you ask, bringing the glass up to your mouth.

“A sip,” says John, and his expression is genuinely distressed. “Please, don’t ever suggest shooting scotch again. That hurt to hear.”

You smirk, and take a slow drink. It hits your tongue with the prologue to a burn, rolling across your taste buds as the twinge fades and you close your eyes. The flavor opens like smoke exhaled into still air; you purse your lips a little and swirl it in your mouth; nutmeg, vanilla, and even a little apple expand across your palate. When it hits the back of your tongue, a short floral burst surprises you, and you swallow it down eagerly.

You find John watching you when you open your eyes.

“Where did you learn to drink like that?” he asks, and there is a new tone in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

It’s low. Resonant. Almost—purring. The look in his eyes, too, is different, the pale blue sharper somehow. Focused keenly, and with some unknown, honed intent, on you.

It pins you where you sit. John is looking at you. John is seeing you.

“Doesn’t everyone learn to drink at uni?” you reply, trying for airy and light. It doesn’t work. Your voice trembles, just a bit.

He’s still watching you, and you think he sees that. Recognizes, perhaps, a change in your expression, some telltale sign that he has shaken you. He looks away from you, takes a drink of his own scotch, and when his gaze returns the keen edge of it has softened. You breathe, and realize you hadn’t been.

You seek something comfortable, something you can measure and control. “How is Actium treating you, then?”

He smiles, and it’s a little rueful. “Octavian’s being a cunt.”

As talk of the most recent book he’s borrowed carries you into more comfortable territory, the two of you make your way through dinner, which is every bit as delicious as John had promised. The food is hearty, greasy in a way that isn’t too heavy, and pairs perfectly with John’s scotch, which you indulge in liberally.

When the alcohol has outpaced the food that is meant to offset it, you think back to what he’d said earlier, about not often getting to share.

“So am I the first person you’ve brought here?” you ask. “Or do you take every neighbor out to dinner?”

John lifts one dark brow, leans in with a tilt of his head. “Only the pretty ones.”

You give an unladylike snort and swirl a cut of chicken around in curry sauce. “You’re incorrigible, John, really.”

The smile he gives crinkles the laugh lines around his eyes, and you feel yourself want to melt at the sight. It is unfair how handsome he is, in that warm sweater, in that golden light, haloed softly in the haze of your verging intoxication.

“When will you believe me when I compliment you, hmm?” he asks, low and resonant in the depths of his chest.

You shoot the rest of your scotch in answer, stuff the chicken into your mouth, and proffer the empty glass.

John squints at your heresy, but obediently pours.

“I suppose your line of work isn’t really great for your social life, then,” you comment. “Always coming and going.”

“My calendar’s certainly empty,” John agrees. “Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve sat down with someone like this. I suppose I’m out of practice.”

“You’re eating with a fork and knife and not your hands.” You grin. “I’d say that’s pretty good already.”

He smiles back. “Would that chase you off?”

You sip your scotch. “Not if you keep pouring.”

“And she complained when the bottle came out. What about you, then?”

“What ‘bout me?”

“How many blokes have you been to dinner with, lately?”

You scoff at that and wash your food down with a sip. “None. As if they’re throwin’ ‘emselves at me.”

John’s expression changes, and it’s slow grin that spreads across his face, a smile you have never seen on him before. It isn’t the sad smile he’s given you at times, melancholy and resigned; nor is it the one he gives when he sees you in the morning, warm and soft and friendly.

No, this one is—energized. Invigorated. As if someone has given him good news he hadn’t been expecting.

“They’ve got to be,” he says, and his tone is humorous. “You must have your pick of the lot. And none of them have struck your fancy?”

You press your hands to your too-warm face. “John, don’t tease me.”

“Seems I’ve got to count myself lucky tonight, then,” he continues, leaning his elbows on the table. “If you’re as choosy as all that.”

You give him a droll look, and swirl your drink around in your glass. “If you must know, I got out of a relationship not long ago.”

John’s brows lift, and you want to smack yourself for letting that little detail escape you. “Is that so?”

You drink. “That is so.”

“What kind of idiot would let you get away?”

“My head is already spinning, and you’re abusing that,” you protest.

“Sorry, love,” he says, clearly not sorry. “But now you’ve got me curious.”

You sit back in your chair, staring at your plate to avoid his gaze. “I’m afraid it’s not all that dramatic. It just…didn’t feel right. I guess he liked me more than I liked him. We would go out, and I would think, ‘I want to leave him and go home.’”

And you still felt guilty about it. You hadn’t liked him that much in the first place, when he’d asked you out—you’d just said yes, because it seemed like the right moment in your life for something like that to happen. When you’d ended it, your extended social network had scratched its collective head, because there truly hadn’t been any good reason.

You just weren’t happy.

“Suppose I didn’t give it enough of a chance,” you say, downing the last of your glass.

“Hey,” John says, soft and gentle. You look up to meet his eyes—the expression on his face is a mixture of sympathy and resolution. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure, John.”

“Love.” His brow creases, insistent. “You deserve something you want.”

You press your lips together tightly, and suddenly you’re struck again with that sensation from earlier, that feeling that John’s presence is a tangible aura, something that rolls and settles across your awareness like a physical touch. You realize you’ve been leaning into it again, drawn toward him like a comet into the snag of a planet’s gravity.

“I’m definitely drunk now,” you say, because the only other words that want to come out are an emphatic I want you.

John smiles. He doesn’t press the issue. “Will I be carrying you home, then?”

“Oh, John, really!” You give a scoff, surprised at the sudden humor. “You couldn’t carry me all that way.”

One dark brow lifts.

“No,” you say. “You’ll have to put me down. I’m not light.”

The smile remains.

You hold his gaze, suspicious, and finish the last of your glass. It does not take long to polish off the last of dinner, and when the two of you agree that the last chips have finally gotten too cold to eat, John pushes his seat back and stands.

“Done, then? I’ll settle the tab. Love, put that away.”

You sheepishly lower your half-lifted wallet back into your purse.

Accounts settled, you make it outside the pub, and then you have to lean against a wall as John watches you, amused. The world is swaying, its pendulum arcing near-horizontal at the amplitude of each swing.

“I just need a minute,” you whisper.

John does the worst thing he could possibly do—he gives you his back and kneels down, arms a little open. “Come on.”

“Come on? Come off it, John, really, you’ll drop me!” you exclaim.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “I won’t.”

You don’t know what convinces you to do it. Tomorrow, you’ll blame the many glasses of expensive scotch, but in the moment you know it’s the way the hanging lights limn his silhouette in gold. You know it’s the soft expression on his face that you are already too fond of. You know it’s the quiet confidence in his reassurance, and above all those things it’s the familiar comfort of his kind blue eyes.

“All right, John,” you say.

As you wrap your arms around his shoulders, John scoops your knees up into the bend of his arms, and you can add now the feeling of his strength to your mental registry of his body. He is broad against you, the width of him obliging your thighs to part farther than they have in a long, long time.

It brings a heat to your face that dwarfs the low simmer of your inebriation. When he lifts you, straightens up and hoists you a little on his back, like you weigh almost nothing, you are unable now to shove back and contain what he has inspired since that first morning.

“This feels nice,” you murmur, tucking your chin on his shoulder. The scotch has the reins of your tongue now. There is no stopping the words that come out. “I wondered if it would. This morning.”

John’s reply is low, humming in his throat as he begins the trek home. “This morning?”

You breathe. “You always look warm and soft. You’re so handsome every morning. Even the first. I wanted to touch you back then. I wanted you to hold me.”

He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s trying to focus on the walk back and not dropping you in the middle of it. He hoists you a little, cupping his hands beneath your knees, squeezing.

His silence prompts more of your honesty. “I don’t want to go to dinner with anyone else, John. Even if someone did ask. You’re the only one.”

“You’re drunk, love,” John says. You don’t recognize the tone of his voice, why it sounds…pleading.

Your face is very close to his, your chin pillowed in the fleece lining of his collar. You resolve fully to blame what you do next on the scotch, and touch the tips of your fingers to the coarse umber on his cheek.

His thumbs press into the divots beneath your kneecaps. John says your name, low and breathy. It must be the strain of carrying you that shows in his voice.

You lean in. You press your cheek against the bristles of his beard, inhale, take in the ever-present Maduro that saturates his skin. The friction is a million little pinpricks of sensation, and you think in that moment that if his beard doesn’t leave hot, welted scratches on your face, you might fall asleep crying.

“Oh,” you murmur, not recognizing the languorous, almost wanton sound of your own voice. “Feels good, John.”

“That’s,” he huffs, and audibly swallows. “That’s good. We’re—ah—we’re almost there.”

“Okay,” you say, sighing against him, settling fully into the expanse of his back.

You doze, unburdened now by what you’ve admitted. He does not waver once on the walk, makes no complaint of your weight as street lights pass and the night moves slowly by. He is as steady, when he makes it to your front door, as he was when he first picked you up.

“Where’s your key, love?” he asks.

“Oh,” you murmur blearily, “um. Let me down.”

Even after your feet are back on the ground, his steadying hand does not leave you, ballasting your elbow as you dig around in your purse. It seems like an embarrassingly long time before you find your keychain, and when you try to unlock your door you miss the slot twice.

John’s big hand wraps around yours then, engulfing it with long fingers and broad palm, and guides the key steadily into the lock. The slide of the deadbolt is loud in the quiet night. You have to lean against the door, suddenly devoid of the strength to turn the knob as you look up at John’s concerned face.

“Let me help you in, love,” he says, brow creased. “Please. I’m worried you’ll fall and hit your head.”

Your entire body feels like it’s sinking into a glass of champagne, his words caressing you like rising bubbles, little pearls of air tickling your face as they touch you. You openly stare at him, watch his throat work as he swallows again, rest your eyes along the broad tendon that flexes as he tilts his head.

“Sure,” you whisper, too out of breath to speak aloud. “If that’s what you want.”

So John turns the knob, loops your arm around his shoulders, and walks you inside.

It is very hard to focus now, as John sits you down on your couch. There isn’t much you can hold in your mind besides the moment his hands leave you, and you inexplicably want to cry at their loss. You don’t see where he goes, vision going dark and blurry around the edges—you think he might have left until he comes back with one of your glasses, filled with clear, cool water.

He kneels in front of you and proffers it, doesn’t let go of the glass until both your hands are wrapped around it. He watches you as you take a sip.

“Drink all of that, alright?” he says. “You had a lot.”

You hold the glass back out to him. “You did too.”

His brows lift, lips parting. Have you surprised him? He pulls the glass closer with a little tug, puts his lips to the rim and tilts it from the bottom as you hold it. His eyes do not leave yours as he drinks, as he takes only a little, and then he pulls away and gently pushes the glass back toward you. Your gaze falls from his eyes, down to the little droplets of water clinging to his mustache, down again to the steady line of his mouth.

You bring the glass back up and take a deep gulp.

“Good girl,” he says, low and rumbling, and heat floods your body.

You realize then that his other hand is on your knee, the weight of his palm heavy and broad, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into the edge of the cap. You are washed in the blend of his warm comfort and the sudden, almost violent sear of your own desire.

When the glass is empty, he eases it from your hands and sets it aside on your coffee table. When he turns back to you, your hand comes up, unbidden, to curve itself along the angle of his jaw. Umber bristles are coarse beneath the sweep of your thumb.

“Not soft, is it?” John murmurs, and there is something stormy and intense in his gaze.

You take a deep breath. “Maybe I’m okay with that.”

His hand grips your knee suddenly, vicelike, and you know this is pushing too far. He does not lean in to you, makes no move toward you, but his entire body is a bank of energy that he is holding, holding, holding back. His chest rises and falls rapidly. His eyes pin you to the couch as he works the muscles in his jaw.

“You’re drunk, love,” he says. It is not the pleading assertion he’d given earlier. It is a conclusion—fond, but resigned.

The room has begun to gently spin, with John at its axis. “I’m drunk,” you agree, whispering and fragile.

It breaks whatever has been building since you’d left the pub. John draws back. Nods. Gives you a smile—that smile. The one that had taken hold of you the first time you saw it. Trying, with every scrap of willpower it had, to be happy, to be alright with what little it had. Failing to do so.

Unable to hide how much it wanted.

“You got a spare key?” he asks. “I can lock you in.”

“Key hook,” you say.

His hand drags down from your knee to stroke along your shin, and then he’s rocking back on his heels, standing to his full height. He looks at you for a moment longer.

“Get some sleep,” he says.

When you blink, he’s gone, and the deadbolt is sliding home.

Bonus A/N: Some housekeeping. First, if you see your username on this list and it's struck through, it means you did not come up when I tried to @ you. I will try one more time, but if it doesn't work I'm taking your name off the list. Get right with the tumblr gods if you can. Second, a few people have told me that they did not get the tag notification on the last update, so let me know if that's the case for you and I will see about trying a different format. And third, I've been editing the format for neighbors across all chapters, so sorry in advance if you get notified twice. Tumblr knows even less about coding a website than I do.

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