#I still need to practice the plains of the drawing and all that crap

[ominousblob]

My digital remake of a piece by Matthew Cook (MatthewCook15 on twitter) original piece under the cut

[sgiandubh]

From barf bag to pity party

The whole 'Kick in the hornets' nest' involuntary series was started by this Anon, received by the de facto leader of the Disgruntled Tumblrettes yesterday evening (in Europe):

The next morning, another Anon chimed in, on the same page, with what prompted the First Kick: S has a child with 'a woman', but God forbid, not with C 🤣🤣🤣.

And then, one of their group felt the need (then the clearly irritated urge) to come back and comment on the above Anon. No less than 5 (five!) long and plethoric comments were written, prompting my Second and Third Kicks - as you all know, the woman practically begged for them.

I feel it's time to show some mercy and draw the line here.

This blog is read (and trusted) by many. Comments were received. Very interesting, matter-of-fact submissions, to say the least. You know: FACTS (🤣🤣🤣). People who have rich and full and loving lives, people who travel. People who don't even agree on many things, yet spontaneously concurred on what things very probably looked like, on that Palm Sunday morning.

Exhibit 1: Mom and Traveler #1 (a mom I am not - but I was a child, unbelievable as it might sound, and I absolutely confirm every single bit of it)

I am not yet ridden with dementia, and I remember very well waking everyone up at ungodly hours and refusing my mandatory afternoon siesta (a very bad habit we have in Southern Europe). I wish I would still have that same insane energy now. I also wish I would have kept my 3 year old fashion model food quirks - but that is another story.

However, I am a dog slave (not owner) and as such, I am taking Baby out for his short (but excruciating) morning routine at 7:30 AM. Come rain or shine. Beg him to finish his business with grace and dignity. He never listens. Labs are a charming, addictive handful and my Greek boy is no exception:

Exhibit 2: Mom and Traveler #2. Who happened to be in GLA on Palm Sunday, March 24, 2024 (for the thick people at the back!):

All that trip was abundantly documented on her own page. I am reasonably sure she might be reblogging this with her own pics from that day.

And now, for the real questions at stake:

Why make such an unbelievable fuss over an Anon with no pic, that I was reluctant to publish myself?

Why have a cosmic meltdown, in public nonetheless, if you do think this is such a pile of unbelievable nonsense crap? (*imagine the freakout in DMs, if this made the headlines!)

How many times has/have S (or C, or SC) been seen by Antis in GLA in similar postures, without a word being uttered in public?

Why would such an occurrence be An Event, outside of this (help me, I have no words) fandom?

Why insist with your crappy arguments, when it is plain to see you have got all your facts dreadfully wrong?

Why mention 'central Glasgow', when it is public lore (and included in Waypoints!) that S does not live there anymore? (* I blacked out the exact reference, which makes total sense - the least thing I would like to see happening is freaks like you stalking them)

One last time, you insist - comments 6 and 7 (wow, girl!):

First comment is a lie and if you read my Anon (and you know you all did and discussed it to oblivion) you'll have also read this:

Which part of 'he didn't approach' you don't get, in plain English, madam? I am lousy at drawing, but hey - for the cause (open in separate page, questionable humor included):

Second comment, I won't even get into it. God only knows what the hell you meant. I am Romanian and we tend to be a very sarcastic bunch - especially the Southerners.

You posted those at about 2:45 AM, local time (if you are, indeed, a Scot). That's 4:45 AM my time.

I am a lifelong sufferer of insomnia. You, madam, you are mad wae it, as they say in Glasgow.

Don't drink and post, seriously. It makes for a very #sorry hangover show.

And with this, I am done with you. All of you, in that corner. You showed me more than enough. You know there is substance to that Anon, despite the lack of a picture - hence the collective freakout.

From barf bag to pity party. Who knew?

[Later edit:] re-reading the sixth comment, I think she wants to imply it was the 'other child' - I was literally blind with sleep when I first saw it. Well, there is no evidence of whatever she is trying to explain (has she contacted The Climber? between midnight and 2 AM, local time?). Also, a 5 year old child is not a toddler anymore: kids are considered toddlers up to 3, only. That boy, as we all know (and I am sorry we do), has dark hair - where is the resemblance Anon noticed?

Desperate, grasping at straws, lying through her teeth and mad wae it, all the way.

@pamalissou, thanks for bringing us a third mom's POV in your reblog.

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 17: Oscar the Golden

Summary: Introducing Rill as Oscar, a haughty butler with the perfected skills to live up to his ego. Genre: general Word count: ~900 A/N: Thank you again to @cringeyvanillamilk for another butler art work.

..........

[cant you like do it for free this one time????]

[get a job lik a normal person if u cant get money with ur drawings]

[AI can do it for free so why should I pay you?]

Rill sighed, closed his messages, and tossed his phone onto his bed. He’d definitely be taking a break from social media after reading those messages.

“What do they even get out of being haters?” Rill grumbled as he flopped into his desk chair and spun in it. His seat stopped turning at the perfect position to see the clock mounted on his wall. Rill blinked. He had an interview in thirty-four minutes. “…Oh crap!”

Rill rushed so frantically that he literally fell through the Black Bird’s door when he entered. Thankfully, Lady Nero greeted Rill as though he hadn’t entered like a clown. She guided him to her office and they sat on opposite sides of a desk.

“Before I start interviewing you for a position at the Black Bird, can I ask about your other work?”

Rill grit his teeth behind pursed lips before clearing his throat and answering, “I-if it’s about any ‘tampering with store equipment’ incidents, I was only trying make nicer displ—!”

“Tampering?” Nero blinked. Then, she shook her head. “Mr. Boismortier, I was referring to your art portfolio.”

It was Rill’s turn to blink. He felt his heart rate pick up. If he could pitch this right, he’d probably be able to make a good commission.

…..

Customers’ eyes went wide with awe when they opened the menu to find the contents changed. The dishes hadn’t changed but the presentation within the menu had been thoroughly overhauled.

The plain, off-white background of the pages had been replaced by one of a soft beige color with artistic renditions of inky birds in flight dotting the space. In spaces beside sections of the menu were crisp, professional photographs of a few dishes. And next to the photographs were cartoon renditions of the cafe’s staff, inviting smiles on their faces and drawn-in speech bubbles with blurbs like “It’s a bestseller” or “We recommend this one.” The back cover of the menu was a full illustration of the butlers, looking ready to greet customers.

“Oh em gee! It’s so pretty!”

“I wanna take this home and put it on my wall!”

Rill bit the inside of his cheek and pushed down the urge to do a happy little shimmy as he listened to the customers rave about his art on the menu while walking the dining area. Yes, Secre had paid well for his art, but Rill still decided to take on a part-time gig at the cafe.

“Oscaaaar!” A customer from a booth waved to Rill. “Do you have a sec?”

Rill pivoted on his heel and strode over to the booth, a smirk on his face.

“You can expect nothing less than impeccable service from me, madam,” he said upon approach, feigning an air of smugness. “That includes giving you all the time you need.”

“Then I promise to hold high expectations for you, Mr. Perfect,” the customer giggled as she wagged her finger at him. “Up for the challenge?”

“Ah hah hah! It will hardly be a challenge.” As he had been practicing, Rill tugged on the lapels of his coat and made his grin cheekier. “Don’t underestimate me. I am not like the other butlers who are mere try-hards compared to my greatness after all.” Rill then cleared his throat. “I appear to have gotten off track. My lady, what is it you called me for?”

“My gratin…” The customer gestured to her half-eaten dish. “I’m a bit of a slow eater and it got cold. Can it get reheated?”

Rill chuckled as he picked up the gratin. “Even if the kitchen ovens were disabled, I’d find a way to stoke a fire to ensure your meal was brought back to a more palatable temperature. Leave it to me, dear patron.”

“I know I can count on you!” the customer cheered as Rill marched off.

…..

Golden Parfait. A parfait involving golden kiwi, yellow peaches, a honey drizzle, and candied lemon zest.

When it came to conceptualizing the signature dish of “Oscar,” Secre let Rill draw whatever came to mind for the kitchen to work off of. Not caring for realism or practicality, he poured out his heart onto his digital canvas. The chefs certainly gave Rill a look of displeasure at his abstract depiction of a golden statue-like foodstuff. Still, they put their heads together and made a sweet treat out of golden ingredients.

The haughty perfectionist “Oscar” came off as strong. Just the same, the Golden Parfait had a powerful appearance and flavor. Bright, confident, in one’s face. That’s what the colors said and that’s what Rill had to be.

Truthfully, Rill wasn’t the type to toot his own horn. He believed he was a skilled artist and was happy to have his work complimented. But the “I’m better than you”-ness of “Oscar” was plain obnoxious and not him.

“The exaggeration is what entertains,” Yami had said, when Rill complained to him one shift. “Besides, maybe there’s something you can learn from your persona.”

At first, Rill had been unconvinced. The more smiles and laughs he earned as “Oscar” though, Rill started to believe.

It was silly. But also fun. Maybe Rill needed to take more pride in his work too. He’d punch himself in the face before becoming anything like “Oscar” though.

[zerotoheroart]

Hello! My name is JT and I suck at drawing. Lol. But I’m not beating myself up about it. I’ve done that for years already and I’m over that. So, just to bring you up to speed. I am in my late 20s and I’ve been drawing since I was about 19, so nearly ten years now of drawing almost every day. There’s just one problem, I leveled up in skill at around 22, or 23 and stopped. I haven’t gotten any better in any noticeable way since I was in my early 20s and I’ve finally become mature enough to admit why I still suck. I. Did. Not. Practice. Correctly. They say that practice makes perfect, but the reality is that perfect practice makes perfect. If you practice to do something the wrong way, you won’t learn how to do that thing correctly. It’s just as plain as that. 

For the longest time, I felt like drawing was a magical thing, a gift bestowed upon the gods chosen few to be able to put pencil to paper and create worlds, objectify nature, tell stories, and just generally wow the socks off people. This is not the way it works, but for years I thought that to be the case. So although I’ve always wanted to be an artist and tell super cool stories, I never practiced drawing because when I was a kid I drew a picture as part of a school project and everyone laughed at it because it was so bad. (It was a picture of Pikachu from Pokemon and it was so awful the good artist in the class drew a picture of pikachu right next to mine just to show how much better she was than me). Anywho, mild childhood trauma aside, I didn’t try to draw seriously again until I was 19 and in college. I was getting a graphic design degree, and for those who don’t know, you don’t need drawing skills to do graphic design. Making logos and whatnot requires a good eye for design, color theory, etc., but not drawing skills. That said, some of the students in my class were extremely good at drawing and it reminded me how much I wanted to be good at something like that, so I bought a sketchbook and started drawing. 

The problem was that I felt behind. I was 19 and most of the good artists in the class had been drawing since they were little kids, so I felt like I needed to find shortcuts to get gud quick! Basically I skipped right over the fundamentals and tried to use every shortcut imaginable to get to where I “wanted to be and should have been already”. I didn’t draw shapes, or work on perspective, or anatomy, or any of that crap. I didn’t have time! I needed to get good ASAP! So I brute forced that shit and skipped all the introductory stuff and went straight into characters, and architecture, and animals and animation….and I absolutely sucked. It wasn’t all bad, like I said before I got “better”, but never good, never to a level that would be considered professional by any means of the word. So I woke up with a rapidly approaching birthday realizing that I only had a short time before I was no longer a 20 something and became a 30 something. An existential crisis ensued. 

My best friend in the whole world is an amazing artist. They are a 3D animator, and they can draw the most badass shit you can imagine as well. Meanwhile, I drew like a ten year old after a couple art classes. Not that I am comparing myself to anyone else, but my friend is proof that studying art the right way is the best way. So I swallowed my pride, looked myself in the mirror, and said “JT, you aren’t getting better at art. You have to change the way you do things or one day you’ll be 50, 60, 70 not drawing any better than you are now!” So I decided to empty my cup, admit I was a rank amateur, and needed proper study. I am back to square one. I accept that. I am taking on the mindset that today is the first day that I am learning how to draw. It will be years before I get to a professional level, but practicing in a professional manner will actually get me there, as long as I persevere. So here today I am at the wax on wax off stage of art. I’m drawing basic shapes. Hundreds, and hundreds of basic shapes, every single day for at least the next 14 days. I aim to at least do ten pages of shapes a day. Once I can do this with confidence, I will move on to volume and practice drawing 3D shapes like spheres and cubes. 

I am writing this as a journal to not only motivate myself, but to hopefully motivate others to see someone go from zero to hero! I’m gonna be training like the main character from a shonen anime from now on until I get as strong at art as I can! My goal in life is to tell the one story I’ve always wanted to tell, and by jove I’m gonna do it. If you want to follow my journal and journey please stop by each week for new progress updates. I will be journaling this entire thing so that I can prove that with the right practice and effort ANYONE can become a good artist. Wish me luck!  

[kanjukucompany]

【A3! Translation】 Sky Gallery (5/11)

previous chapter / next chapter

(translation under the cut)

(glitch text ignore)

Chapter 5

Izumi: Is everyone here?

Misumi: Wait, where’s Kazu~?

Muku: He said he was going deliver the artwork that was accepted into the open-call exhibition. He should be getting back soon.

Yuki: Is that so. And if he wins the exhibition, it gets displayed in a museum, yeah?

Kumon: This is Kazu-san we’re talking about, he’s got this in the bag~. Maybe next time he’ll even have a shot at the grand prix!

Tenma: Speaking of, I heard you were contacted about a TV interview, Director?

Izumi: Since Kazunari-kun’s a member of our theater company, they came to me about the request.

Izumi: It seems they’ve gotten wind that he’s been nominated for the award.

Izumi: Since he plays an active part as both an actor and designer here, they want to interview him about a variety of things.

Izumi: Apparently it’s going to be it’s own special feature in the news.

Kumon: Ehh~! That’s awesome for Kazu-san~!

Muku: When I hear things like this, it reminds me that Kazu-kun really does have a variety of talents, huh.

Tenma: What will the interview be about?

Izumi: They’re going to ask him about some of his existing artwork, as well as his accepted exhibition piece. Along with questions about his daily life as a student and theater company member.

Kumon: In the dorms?! So that means if I pass by in the background, I’ll get to be on TV?!

Tenma: A passerby…. be more ambitious.

(door opens)

Kazunari: I’m back~.

Muku: Oh, welcome home!

Misumi: We we’re just talking about you, Kazu~.

Kumon: It’s so awesome that you’re getting a personal TV interview! You’re like Tenma-san!

Kazunari: Who knows, I might even become more famous than him~.

Kazunari: Actually, while delivering my artwork, I got an offer for a solo exhibition.

Kazunari: It’s nothing huge, but the gallery itself is pretty well-known.

Izumi: A solo exhibition next?! Amazing!

Kazunari: Though, I don’t have much time until then, since the exhibition requires both old and new works, but…

Kazunari: I decided to go for it.

Yuki: You mean you’re going to have to paint another new piece? That’s all you’ve been doing lately.

Tenma: Are you sure you’ll have enough time?

Kazunari: This is going to be the last time the gallery hosts anything for a while, if I don’t do it now, it’ll be at least half a year before I could do any type of exhibition there.

Kazunari: If there’s a chance for me now, I want to take it now while I can.

Izumi: Even though the script is still in progress, you’re going to be playing a lead role soon, don’t you need to rest?

Kazunari: I’m sure that once I graduate, I’m gonna be super busy both as an actor and an UMC.

Kazunari: This’ll be good multitasking practice for me, since I wanna continue taking as many chances like this as I can.

Kazunari: I think this is a wall I need to overcome. I said I’m gonna do everything I want to do, and I’m sticking to that.

Izumi: ….I understand. I’ll support you as best as I can.

Kumon: I’ll support you too!

Muku: Same here. If there’s anything we can do, just say the word.

Misumi: Kazu, good luck~!

Kazunari: Thanks!

Kazunari: …..

Kazunari: (I know I said all that, but….)

Kazunari: Hmm…..

Kazunari: (Not a single idea comes to mind… I even came out on the balcony for a change of pace, but I’m still stumped.)

Kazunari: Sigh….

Kazunari: Ah, I unconsciously drew it again…

Kazunari: Ughh…

Tenma: ….What’s all the groaning for?

Kazunari: Huh, Tenten?

Tenma: I could hear you in the hall.

Kazunari: I’m having trouble visualizing new artwork. What a shame too, I made such a big show about it back there~.

Tenma: Is this drawing not what you’re looking for?

Kazunari: Oh… that’s just something I scribbled without thinking. I always end up drawing it when I’m artblocked.

Tenma: I just remembered, you’ve mentioned that to me before.*

Kazunari: It’s just a plain old blue sky. I can’t use this~.

Tenma: ——.

(phone buzzes)

Kazunari: ——Crap, I forgot to call back about the interview!

Kazunari: Hello!

Tenma: …..

Director: Pleased to be working with you today.

Director: Today I, the director, and these two cameramen will accompany you.

Director: For this interview, we want you to just live out your daily life like usual.

Kazunari: Well today, I’m off to college~.

Director: Alright.

Director: Is this usually where you work?

Kazunari: Sometimes I use the warehouse at the dorms, but yeah, most of the time I’m here.

Director: How long does it take to complete one piece?

Kazunari: Well, it depends on the size, but generally a few weeks after I come up with the initial idea.

Kazunari: Some of them can take up to several months, though.

Director: Did your piece for the 'Future Painters National Award Exhibition' take about that long?

Kazunari: Yeah, it did.

Director: Applying to an open-call exhibition and getting accepted on your first try, that’s quite impressive.

Director: Please tell us how you decided to apply.

Kazunari: Well, my Papi works for an advertising agency…

Kazunari: And at a group exhibition, we ran into a work associate of his. That guy belongs to the company that’s sponsoring the open-call, and he asked me to apply.

Director: I see. Maybe that person also thought your artwork had potential, and that’s why he called out to you.

Kazunari: Hmm, you think so?

Kazunari: It’s a step towards my future goals as an UMC, so I’m thankful for the encounter.

Director: An UMC?

Kazunari: Ultra Media Creator! A career that create all types of things, regardless if it’s paintings, theater, graphic design, or whatever else.

Director: I see, it’s a very fitting title for someone as multi-faceted as you, Miyoshi-san.

Director: Well then, this concludes the interview. Thank you for having us today.

Kazunari: Right back at you!

Director: We’ll be going.

Kazunari: Good work today~!

Kazunari: (It’s refreshing to be interviewed like this. It’s like I’m a celeb~.)

Kazunari: ….Hm?

Kazunari: (This towel, doesn’t it belong to someone on the news crew?)

Kazunari: (They can’t be too far yet, I’ll go chase after them.)

Kazunari: (Oh, there they are, by the vending machines!)

Kazunari: Hey——.

Cameraman A: But still, he seems like one those modern youngsters~. Definitely not the type who would make Japanese style paintings.

Kazunari: ——.

Kazunari: (It’s not like I was trying to hide but… I feel guilty for eavesdropping.)

Director: Well, I suppose an artist’s image and their work aren’t always the same…

Director: You know, when I was researching him for the interview, I saw rumors circulating around social media that he might’ve been accepted into the exhibition because of some…. insider connections.

Director: Apparently, the ad agency his father works for is also sponsoring the exhibition.

Director: I mean look at the interview just now, when I asked him why he applied, he told me he was asked to. There might be some credibility to those rumors.

Cameraman A: Seriously? It does sound connected.

Cameraman B: To think those types of things happen even now~.

Director: Well, considering it's an open-call exhibition I guess one of the sponsors wanted someone like him to get picked in order to generate some news buzz.

Cameraman A: I see. So, technically, this interview was a result of that too?

Director: Right. In a way, they were successful.

Kazunari: ——.

*reference to kazunari’s playback SR backstage story

[sylvies-chen]

Chenford + #18

18. “That was kind of hot.”

The second time Lucy goes undercover, things go about as chaotically as the first time.

She’s back in the game, going undercover deep for weeks as the chemist for the last of Sato’s minions as they make valiant but unsuccessful attempts at continuing his business.

One of the scumbags in question is some guy named Reno. Lucy— or Nova now, that is— doubts that’s his real name but he automatically sets himself apart from the other minor busts. He’s ruthless, violent, and above all else: he’s smart about his business. Lucy learns that quickly but isn’t intimidated. She’s smart too.

It’s why, when she and Reno are making their way on foot to meet up with their distributor (a meeting she knows isn’t on the LAPD’s radar yet), she figures something out and improvises. They need to know about the meeting that’s happening and she trusts Tim. She always has.

Lucy knows Tim’s usual patrol route. It used to be theirs, after all, she practically has the thing memorized inside and out by now. Reno had insisted on walking which was smart since no attention would be drawn to them through dingy looking cars or memorable license plates or reckless driving. But Lucy has a few tricks of her own so when she looks up at the street they’re turning onto, she sees Tim’s patrol car and isn’t the slightest bit surprised.

Reno doesn’t see it though. They keep walking and his eyeline is seconds away from catching the blue and white van. It’s now or never, Lucy thinks. She needs to draw his attention away from Tim and Tim’s attention towards them.

So she picks a fight.

“I need a break,” she declares suddenly, slowing down to feign exhaustion.

“You’ll take a break when I say you can,” Reno grumbles. “Stop whining, princess. We’re almost there.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lucy shouts back, considerably louder than before. She eyes Tim’s vehicule, praying it’s loud enough to draw his attention.

“What the hell is your problem?” He seethes, sending her a warning glare. “You shut your mouth when we’re in public.”

“Why, can’t handle a woman who doesn’t put up with your macho crap? You need me to make this product so if I need to catch my break for fifteen seconds then maybe you should just shut your damn mouth and let me,” she explains coldly.

That does the trick. Guys like Reno are a lot easier to piss off than people think, apparently, because he’s fuming at the nostrils and lifts his sweater to reveal the piece sitting at his hip. His second hand gets closer too, invading Lucy’s personal space and grabbing her arm. His fingers are tight around her forearm and the skin quickly turns a pinkish red.

“Is there a problem here, ma’am?”

Lucy doesn’t think she’s ever been so happy to hear Tim Bradford’s voice. (And that’s saying something since, admittedly, she loves hearing his voice.)

She turns her head and sees Tim’s standing before them, the shop parked across the street out of plain sight and his eyes stoic. Only she can notice the slight hint of worry and longing in them; she hangs onto that like a lifeline.

“No, officer,” Reno replies with a forced smile. “This is just our baby sister, Nova, she’s fine. We were just trying to hurry her along but she can’t handle this heat. You know how women are.”

Reno’s pathetic attempt at a joke shouldn’t fall flat— the smart move would be for Tim to laugh along to it, but he doesn’t.

“No I don’t, actually. And last I checked, I wasn’t asking you,” Tim retorts with a scowl, turning his attention back to Lucy. “Are these gentlemen bothering you, miss?”

She shakes her head. “No, no they’re my brothers. We were just meeting up with our father a couple blocks ahead by the coffee shop, he wants to take our nieces and nephews trick-or-treating next week for Halloween. My brother Reno’s right though, I was just being fussy.”

The timing is unusually perfect since Halloween really is next week and she it lets her convey the message perfectly: that they’re planning on distributing.

“Right,” he nods. “Well, uh, here, have some bottled water. It’s a hot day, the fall weather’s not cool enough yet for the fall.”

He hands her a plastic bottle of water she didn’t even realize she had. Something in his eyes tells her he’s giving her the green light to do their same routine as last time, so she takes the water bottle from him and then quickly turns on Nova’s flirty side. Lucy doesn’t know why she gets so eager to, but he’s been tense to the point where it doesn’t feel like acting and it makes her heart swell for him, so she needs that levity right now. Or, maybe, she just really likes to wonder when Nova stops making him stutter over his words and when Lucy starts. “Thank you, Officer…” she pretends to check his name tag, squinting closely. “Bradford. Very regal name. You must be my knight in shining armour.”

Reno and his friend look at her confused, but she puts a suggestive hand on his arm and they know exactly what she’s doing. Getting on Tim’s good side means throwing suspicion off of them in their minds.

Tim lets out a nervous laugh, looking down at her hand on his and somehow faking a blush. Or, as Lucy hopes in the quiet corners of her kind, blushes for real. “I don’t know how good of a knight in shining armour I am if I don’t even know the name of the woman I’m protecting,” he quips back, playing along. He even puts his hand on his belt and puffs his chest.

“Nova,” she tells him, catching his eye and giving an appreciative look. “You can call me Nova.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears. Man, they’re really laying it on thick. She doesn’t think Reno or his buddy even suspect anything anymore. Why the hell is she still flirting with him?

“Nova,” he echoes. “I like it.”

There’s a thick but quick silence that falls over them, until Reno grabs her by the arm again and tries yanking her away from Tim. “Quit flirting. The cop is off our asses, you did your damn job. Now come on, we need to go,” he whispers to her through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry,” she tells him, turning back to Tim (whose worry is becoming less concealed by the minute).

“You good to go then, miss?” Tim asks. She knows he’s asking if she’s told him everything she needed to. She has, so she nods.

“Yes. Thank you, Officer Bradford. You were very gallant. And I’m not going to lie…” she says as Reno and his friend start to continue their walk. “That was kind of hot.”

The two men aren’t looking at Tim anymore, so she looks back at him and gives the tiniest, knowing nod. Telling him he was hot wasn’t exactly part of the plan though and the last thing she sees before heading back undercover as Nova is the blush that creeps up on Tim’s face.

Maybe, just maybe, the lines between Lucy and Nova are a little blurred now….

[anntidote]

:club room keys - sawamura daichi

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, blowjob, deep throating, penetration, i still don’t know if this counts as somnophilia (?), mentions of kageyama, michimiya, and oikawa

summary: rain comes down heavy after student council duties, but you still have to drop off a set of keys. luckily, daichi helps you out- and there’s only so many ways that you can repay him.

a/n: dedicated to @ceo-of-daichi simply because lydz deserves a different daichi D word than drought. so here’s some dick LOL. 

the ring of the intercom and the bustling life of students. the clatter of shoes against the blue tile and chatter of passing conversation, definitely fell on deaf ears. your form slumping against the desk, and the weight of your face leaning into your palm. 

it'd been a couple days since your last run in with tobio, and the whole ordeal of the bathroom incident. the thoughts of him still living rent free in your mind-- at how his eyebrows scrunched up. pursed lips and the weeping tip of his cock, almost blushing the same shade of rose that graced his cheeks. 

wait. you shook your head. no. you told yourself you wouldn't think of him like that anymore. 

 tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. he deserves to be treasured, and loved correctly. your job was to keep that awkward, wobbly smile on his face when sipping on his milk straw. you were to worry about his studies, and whether he goes straight home after practice.

the last thing that should be bothering you is the voice at the back of your head. tethering your mindset elsewhere, and questioning why he was jacking off in the school bathroom in the first place. 

what made him so frustrated that he went during class?

did he like someone that much? was it someone you knew?

was that someone perhaps you?

"so will you do it?" hands slamming down on your desk, you bolt upright in shock. snapped out of a day dream, you're met with the sight of michimiya, captain of the girls' volleyball team. a crumb or two still on her face, her lopsided grin holds hope when she stares down at you. 

"h-huh?" you barely register her words to respond, still alarmed. "i asked if you were willing to drop off our gym's keys after practice. i need to hurry home to do something-- but…" she retracts her hands and props them on her hips. "... are you doing alright? you've seem out of it these couple days. it's not like you." 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

your nose scrunches up a bit at the impromptu flashback. "just peachy." 

"oh really?" a tinge of sarcasm sprinkled into her reply, you luckily miss the flash of pity in her eyes when you finally look up at her.

 almost as if she knew.

 "well, i hope things get better for you."

"yeah, yeah." you wave off the topic. "but you said you needed me to drop off keys or something?" 

"ah, right!" her usual go-lucky smile making an appearance. "sawamura asked if he could borrow our gym after practice for the last couple days, but i have to promised to run some errands back at home. i was hoping you could swing by the club room after student council, and drop off the keys for me?" 

you bit back a laugh, trying to keep the best poker face you could- as the pleading expression on her face looked like something out of a cartoon. "i don't know…"

"oh my goodness, please! i already promised sawamura, and it's already hard enough, trying to get all the members to get to practice and-" 

you grab her shoulders, halting the blubbering, and frantic look in her eyes. "calm down, yui! i was only joking- of course i will."

…

rain was something tooru despised. 

his complaints were one of a child, as it ruined his hair. it made everything sticky, and smell like wet dog. being out too long would make him sick, and if there was too much of it- it would turn into a storm. it could turn into a hurricane. or even a typhoon. 

and it's honestly ironic, even as you hold your bag over your head. your rubber sneakers hitting the mud and pavement, rushing to get under the roof of the club building. much to your luck, the reminiscent squeak of rubber isn't heard, as the gym doors were shut. letting out a huff, the sheer amount of relief that pours over you when the familiar screech of the metal door opens is a blessing. 

"hey! you made it-- oh my gosh, get inside!" he cuts off his warm greeting, as he grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room before the door slams behind you. "holy crap, you're drenched."

"thanks for stating the obvious, daichi." you snarkily remark, but still giving him a small smile. 

you knew daichi for a lot of reasons. being the karasuno boys' volleyball captain, he's been noted as one of dependability. a solid rock in a foundation, and everything the student body says about him is relatively positive. 

but even as a third year, you can still remember his shenanigans like it was yesterday. how he dashed past you whilst racing the basketball team's captain, and accidentally hitting the fire alarm. you couldn't even count how many times he'd had a run in with the principal's toupee. 

but even now, in his plain tee and black shorts-- there's this responsible look in his eyes. a quality only built up by experience, and you mentally applaud him. especially when you learn the sheer amount of siblings he had. 

"here's the keys for the other gym." you drop the keys into his open palm.

"ah, thanks." a hand moves to the back of his neck, a tell tale sign of his nervousness. "but i thought michimiya was dropping these off."

"yui had something to do today, so she asked me to. hope you don't mind it being me instead of your girlfriend." 

his eyes widen, beginning to frantically shake his hands in front of him. "n-no! that's not what i meant at all! she's not even my girlfriend, i-" he cuts himself off at the sound of your laugh, as you clutch a palm on your mouth. a grin peaks through his annoyance. "hey! why're you laughing so bad?"

"i'm sorry but what the heck is this?" you push past him to point at the poster at the far right corner of the room.

"bikini girls? really?"

the blush that comes over his face is absolutely hilarious. "t-that was-!"

"man, who knew sawamura daichi, captain of the volleyball club was a boob man! wait until yui hears about this!" you almost double over in laughter, watching steam puff out of daichi's ears in utter embarrassment. 

"don't you have somewhere to be?" he tries to divert the subject, only to hear a crack of thunder beat you to a response. the onslaught of rain beginning to hit the window panes at full force, and the lights flickering. "... nevermind." 

"i meant to ask, is it okay if i'm in here?" looking down, you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "this is the boys' club room after all." 

unfortunately for daichi, the implication doesn't go over his head. and the fact that you're confused about why his face seems to flush a further shade of red seems to seal the deal.

that man, does daichi hates being a guy right now. 

his initial intent was to simply shield you from the rain. the simple connection that he didn't want you to get further drenched, and fall sick because of the favor he asked for. but now?

he feels guilty when his eyes draw lower, the tune of your laughter and friendly banter playing like background music. he swallows at the translucency of your uniforms while dress shirt. how the faint blue shape of your bra cups your chest, and how the damp fabric seems to cling to your skin. the jealousy of the water droplets that run down your neck and into the divet of your collarbones. 

you're in the boys' volleyball club room right now. clothes and gym bags strewn about, the smell of teenage cologne, and all alone. 

"t-the rest of the club is in the gym with the coaches." daichi stutters, before coughing to clear his throat. "we can just wait until it lightens up and make a dash for it." 

"sounds like a plan! how's tobio doing with sho-- achoo!" you start, only to sneeze mid way. 

"crap, your clothes are soaked from the rain." you hurry to wipe your nose, as daichi hands a set of spare clothes toward you. "here."

you raise an eyebrow. "why do you have another set of gym clothes?"

"after hinata puked at our seijoh game, i'm not taking any more chances-- oh shit, wait!" he explains, before his eyes widen at your fingers undoing your blouse buttons, and hurriedly turning the other direction. 

you giggle at his panic stricken face, before proceeding to peel the dampened cloth off your body, and your mind still processing the fact he had to have mentioned seijoh. but then a voice chimes in from the back of your head, crying out desperately. 

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would." 

it's truly unfortunate. and you genuinely sorry for daichi, as you dig into the pocket of your soaked blazer, and pressing the lone button on the stop watch. the pattering of the droplets against the window, halting in its path. the swirl of winds silencing, and the thunder strike through the air, simply pausing at your fingertips. 

you're not stupid. you knew where daichi's eyes trailed, especially as you drop your underwear and skirt to the floor, altogether. stepping out of the clothes and bounding toward the captain, sinking to your knees, and staring up at the frozen crimson tint of his face. 

you knew the moment you were pulled into this room, that this was a bad idea. and right then and there, your entire consciousness told you that this was your chance to be a good person. 

… but was tooru ever a good person? 

you let out a small gasp as you grab at his clothed bulge, already half hard through the cloth of his shorts. feeling yourself salivate, you begin to slowly pump. pawing at his size, coaxing him into a full erection. 

and honestly, you wonder what would go through daichi's head right now. what would this man think as you pulled down his athletic wear, and how you stared at him in pure wonder. what would he do when his cock lewdly slaps against his abdomen, and falls shy of your lips? what would he do when you swirl your tongue over hips tip, lapping up the weeping cry of arousal, and savoring his taste? taking him deeper, peering back up through fogging vision, as your struggle, and choke around him. coating him in spit, saliva dripping down your chin, and making an utter mess. 

you coo at how responsive he is, even when unconscious. the frozen look of his face is one of guilt, but the tips of his ears are the same shade of his cock. you wish to tell him that it's alright, as you were definitely more of a sinner than him. popping off of his length and heaving a full breath, you stand. cupping his face by the cheek, and gently nudging his face to meet yours. 

"sorry." your whisper fans hotly against his face, as you continue. moving his limbs almost like a doll, laying him against the floor, and having your legs on either side of his hips. 

but if you were going to have fun, it's only fair you'd share it. 

the thunder strikes far from where you are, and the heavy breeze makes the windows wobble. but daichi doesn't seem to care- as everything hits him like a truck. 

the slick of your mouth, and the choke of your throat. the pumps of your soft hand against his shaft- and how you brutally sink your weeping cunt onto him. the ungiving clench and sheer heat of your pussy had his hands flying to your hips. his eyes widening at the sight of your hands against his chest. fucking yourself onto his cock, moaning his name like a mantra, and lust blown gaze staring right back at him- his eyes roll back as everything becomes too much. 

he cums. rope upon rope of milky essence spills from him, legs shaking and earth shattering. daichi almost screams, as the pleasure is borderline painful. the sight of you was too much to handle, and undoubtedly made him double over. "ah shit-!"

daichi doesn't know how you paused time once again, just to make sure he doesn't cum inside you. he doesn't know how quickly you dropped to your knees, mouth wide open, and how he releases down your throat. how you milk every single drop out of him before freezing the world at will. 

all daichi knows is confusion and the fuzziness his head pounds with. when suddenly, you're not on top of him anymore. his form is turned, facing the wall again. shaky legs, and not laid against the floor. 

"daichi? are you okay?" you call out. 

he coughs, turning toward you. "y-yeah…" his confusion etching even more as you're wearing his spare shirt, still in your skirt, and a tilted head facing him. "... i think."

you laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully. "goodness, does the lightning scare you so bad? you look like someone just sucked the soul outta ya!" 

he thinks you don't know a thing. the sight of your walls sucking him in fresh in his mind makes heat, and guilt simultaneously pool at his gut. he thinks you're the most innocent soul on earth when you lean in toward him, pressing your palm on his forehead, and giving him an eyeful that makes his breath hitch, before taking a step back. 

"don't get sick on me now, captain. you take care of everyone else, so who's going to take care of you?" you tell him off with a wink, only for him to hum an incoherent response, and his mind still buzzing. 

was that all his imagination? 

"oh look! it's lightening up!" you snap him out of his train of thought when you smile, grabbing his hand, pulling him forward. "let's make a run for it!" 

"w-wait!" he stops your other hand from turning the door knob. 

you turn toward him, eyebrows raised. "huh?"

it definitely catches you off guard as daichi leans in to look into your eyes. you feel your heart pound in your ears when you stare back. the caramel shade of his skin and the dark pupils trying to analyze you- trying to figure you out. "d-daichi?" you stutter out. 

"a-ah… sorry." he pulls back before muttering something under his breath. something about it feeling real. 

and it almost hurts as you facade innocence, letting go of his hand and racing toward karasuno's second gym. bags over your heads as you pound against the door, and laugh heartily as kageyama messes up a serve in your presence. it almost hurts as your cunt weeps arousal, and ruins your new, navy blue set of panties. 

because it's ironic at how much you told tooru how much you loved the rain. how fun it was as a child to jump into puddles, and dance. how the pattering felt like the knock on a door and a call out to play. how easily rain covered for all the moans that daichi never got to hear when you came around him, walls creaming him in your slick. how the wind howls loudly so that no one could hear you babble your gratitude, and at how thankful you were. and how rain was the best excuse for your tears. the most viable excuse of why your face was an utter mess the other day. 

and how it seemed to rain the same day tooru broke your heart in two. 

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 4

Tagging @donttouchmycarrots and @sunflowerfox87 who I still can’t believe wanted to be tagged 🥺 

Thank you so much everyone for your support ❤️

And as always, thank you @inloveoknutzy and Nayla for proofreading, you guys are the best  ❤️

My One in a Million Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Morning routines

The feeling of the earth on his bare feet. Long nights playing video games with his friends. Streaming for his fans. Slow sunsets and starry nights. Having the gang at his flat all the time. Relaxing bubble baths. Sunday lunch with the Potters. Making the people who doubted him shove their words up their asses.

Those were all things Sirius Black loved.

Having his brother drilling him at 7 am on an otherwise perfect Friday morning was most definitely not one of them. Not at all.

“I told you a thousand times already, and I’ll say it again one last time. I am not. Going. To that stupid. Fucking. Dinner,” he practically yelled over the phone.

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line.

“Sirius, please. Could you stop thinking only about yourself for once? They want you to come.” A short pause. “I want you to come.”

Sirius grunted lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Reg. I gave them too much already. I can’t keep giving them more. I’m sorry.” He hung up before Regulus could get another word in and raked both hands through his hair.

Manipulative pieces of crap. They ‘wanted him to come’? What a fucking pile of shit. They had never wanted him there, they only wanted whatever they could get from him, asking for more, more and more, until they could suck him dry. They wouldn’t even be bothering with him if he was of no use to them.

Saying no to Regulus was the hard part. Knowing they were using him precisely because of this, that Regulus himself was using it against him, was almost like a knife twisting in his gut. 

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much, because Sirius still cared about him. He was still his little brother, despite the decisions they had both taken for their lives. But Regulus didn’t see it that way.

Sirius started pacing up and down his room, rubbing a hand through his face as his other went instinctively to his back pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. He hated feeling like this, hated the push and pull that came with his family’s relationships; craving the acceptance of his own blood, wanting to be close to his brother, but also feeling like he needed to get as far from them as he could. Why couldn’t they understand he didn’t want anything to do with the company? Heck, he didn’t want anything to do with most of them, he only kept some sort of contact because of Regulus. Even if his brother didn’t really want anything to do with him.

A flash of pain slashed him in the middle of his chest, and Sirius stormed off to the balcony, a fag already between his lips.

Lighting it up felt like lifting some of the weight off his shoulders. He pictured all of his problems in his head and imagined exhaling them with the smoke, drifting away in the morning sky until there was nothing left of them.

Sirius snorted. He wished it was that easy to get rid of all his worries, but his brother’s voice kept whispering in his ears, no matter how many times he watched the smoke dissipate in front of his face, mixing with words that were not Reg’s but still sounded in his voice. Stop thinking about yourself. You’re such a disappointment. We gave you so much, and this is how you repay us? You don’t care about me. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

“Ugh, fuck,” Sirius grunted as he leaned on the rail and let his head hang low, pressing his forehead against the cold metal.

A low sound reached him through the fog of noises in his head. It was a song he’d never heard before, its rhythm slow and calming, and Sirius tried to focus on that to clear his mind and make the voice shut up.

He raised his head, looking at the place where it was coming from, only to be faced with a sight that almost made him drop his cigarette six floors down.

The new neighbor, Remus, was behind the glass doors of his balcony, standing on top of a yoga mat, wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey shorts that were dangerously hiking up his thighs in the position he was currently in.

His arms were stretched on top of his head, his toned muscles making the veins in his arms pop, and his broad shoulders working with the slow movements he was making. There was such a peaceful air about him. His eyes were closed and the sun was drawing golden lines that flitted through his hair as he bent down at the waist to touch the floor, leaving his back exposed.

The freckles on Remus shoulders disappeared below the t-shirt, and Sirius desperately wanted to know just how far they reached. He swallowed thickly, unable to look away. It was mesmerizing to watch Remus transition between poses, his lithe body flowing like water. He briefly wondered if the man was as pliable in other ways, but when his heart rate started quickening, Sirius decided he should stop being a creep and allow his neighbor the privacy he deserved. Before he could tear his eyes away though, a black shadow darted into the room and tackled Remus to the floor.

Sirius gripped the rail unconsciously before he realised it was just Remus’ dog, and he was left breathless once more at the image in front of him.

Remus was laughing as the dog nudged him with its head, two of its paws pressed over those powerful shoulders as Remus stroked the fur at its sides. The man’s eyes were crinkled, his curls falling onto his forehead in a tawny mess that was so cute Sirius thought he might die.

Seeing him smiling like that, it reminded Sirius of the Halloween party almost a week ago.

At first, he’d been annoyed about Lily bringing Remus and a stranger into his home, but that was mainly ‘cause Sirius had been on edge about the whole family drama. He had been looking forward to a chill night with his friends, and having outsider eyes at that moment felt like something that would have made him step on eggshells all night to avoid revealing his identity.

But Remus had proved to be as interesting as Sirius had thought him to be the first time they talked, always taking him by surprise with his comments and reactions.

Sirius desperately wanted to know where the hell Remus had learned to play like that. It wasn’t every day that he was beaten by someone that didn’t seem to have a lot of time for games, even if he’d been overly distracted by his toned thigh touching his own leg. Yes, Sirius had had a hard time concentrating, but he hadn’t slacked off. Remus was good. And Sirius wanted to know how.

He was intrigued by the man in so many ways, his interest peaking with every new little thing he noticed: the gaming, the yoga, his weird way of thinking -Sirius chuckled when he remembered how Remus had thought he was a fucking drug dealer-, him showing up at a party wearing a jumper that was a few sizes too big for him, looking so impossibly cuddly and warm; his relationship with his dog, his relationship with that Leo guy.

As Remus nuzzled his nose into the dog’s fur, Sirius thought about the rainbow coloured bracelet on Leo’s wrist. He admired the guy for wearing the flag so proudly, just there in plain sight for everyone to see. Sirius wished he could do the same, to stand tall, out in the open. But the consequences for him were way too high.

A small, annoying part of his brain felt the need to remind him that this didn’t mean Remus liked dudes. But Sirius took comfort in the knowledge that, at the very least, it meant that he was ok with it. That he wouldn’t condemn Sirius for it.

Sirius reached for a new cigarette, even if he was already feeling calmer, and put it between his teeth, taking a second before lighting it. While he played with the flame of his lighter, he wondered how Remus knew about Padfoot. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to know that story.

His heart warmed, not for the first time, at how Remus had defended Padfoot so fiercely, having no idea that he was right there; no idea how much his words meant for Sirius. Remus had understood him incredibly thoroughly for someone that didn’t even know who Padfoot was. That he was sitting right next to him. And Sirius wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he wanted to find out.

It was no surprise that Remus hadn’t recognized his voice, even though he was clearly a fan. Sirius always hid his accent on his videos to conceal any connection to his family, so his parents wouldn’t intervene and ruin everything.

Suddenly, the music drifting from the room next door changed to a more upbeat one. Remus lifted the black dog up in his arms, something that couldn’t be easy given its size, and hugged it as he started twirling around the room, laughing brightly as he did.

He was dancing. 

With his dog.

And the face he was making, like the animal meant the world to him... How could someone you barely knew be so fucking endearing?

Sirius was still staring when Remus turned around and lifted his head, his eyes locking with Sirius’. He stopped mid-turn, the smile slipping from his face. Sirius felt a blush prickling at his cheeks at being caught basically ogling him, but he waved with an awkward smile.

His only answer was a scowl, even if from afar he could tell Remus was blushing too. He set the dog down, glaring at Sirius, who let his hand drop slowly as he watched the man close the curtains in a slash.

Sirius hid his face in his hands, feeling the heat radiate from his cheeks. How could he fuck up so much? Remus would think he was a fucking creep now. Dragging his hands down, Sirius knew he would have to genuinely step up his game if he wanted to get to know this man.

In the afternoon, Sirius was still pondering ways to get more acquainted with Remus, and coming back empty handed. He didn’t want to just show up at one of his classes, he lived right next door for fucks sake! He should be able to find a way to start up a conversation with him, right? Although Sirius had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of the guy since he’d moved in. Of course, Sirius hadn’t exactly been in the right state of mind to notice him.

But life seemed to be on his side, at least this once. Because when he stepped into the coffee shop where he was meeting up with James and Lily, the first thing he saw was a head of tawny curls.

Barely keeping in his glee, Sirius walked towards Remus, figuring he could just say hi. He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he was just a few steps behind him and he realized Remus was humming the lyrics of An Open Letter to Myself.

“I love that song,” he said without thinking. The man had a lovely voice, sweet and a bit sad, and it made his curiosity peak again.

Remus jolted and turned around with surprised eyes and slightly flushed cheeks, but as gold met silver, his eyebrows dropped quickly over his eyes. Sirius was taken aback by the clear hostility in Remus’ features, which made him stutter as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I... I saw you and thought... I… uhm... should come and say hi? So...hi,” Sirius said and immediately groaned inwardly at his stupidity. Since when was he this clumsy? 

“Hello,” Remus said in a polite, detached tone before he turned away.

Sirius took a minute to rearrange his thoughts while he placed his order right after Remus. They got their drinks at the same time, and before Remus could walk away from the shop, Sirius scrambled for something else to say.

“Your dog is beautiful, what’s its name?”

The corner of Remus’ mouth tickled up at the mention of his pet, but it was pushed down almost instantly.

“Cocoa,” he replied reluctantly, and Sirius almost spit his tea.

“Cocoa? That huge ass dog has a cute name like Cocoa?”

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was almost pouting. “I just really like chocolate, ok? Besides, he’s just a pup,” he said as he moved over to add some sugar to his chai latte. Sirius followed.

“A pup?” he said incredulously. “How is that a pup?!”

Remus huffed. “He’s only about two or three years old.”

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. That dog was already past Remus’ knees, and if what he was saying was right, he was probably going to grow some more.

“Did you adopt him?” he asked, tilting his head, thinking about Remus’ choice of words. He was focusing his whole attention on Remus, and that was probably the only reason why he noticed the slight stutter of his hand as he stirred his drink.

“Yeah,” he said in a breath. Sirius thought that would be the end of the conversation, but then -as if he couldn't help himself- Remus added, “he was very young when I found him. He was abandoned and practically left to die; his previous owners must have thought it was too much trouble to raise a wolfdog, and decided to leave him tied up in the woods instead of being decent human beings and finding him an appropriate home.”

There was such disgust in his voice that Sirius took a step back while his heart melted into a puddle. Of course he rescued dogs. Sirius was starting to wonder if this guy was even real. He’d been so thoroughly captivated by him in such a short time, it was a bit scary. Sirius hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. He hadn’t let himself feel like this, it was too risky, and he knew it would be more sensible to leave Remus alone and stay away from him before things got worse, but he had felt drawn to him ever since the Halloween party.

“That’s awful. No one deserves to be treated like that,” he replied softly against his better judgement. If things got worse, he’d deal with that later.

Remus’ head snapped up, and for a moment it looked like he was drowning. Sirius had no idea what had brought that expression to his face, but the only thought in his mind was how desperately he wanted to erase it. 

In hopes of doing so, he tried to change the subject to something lighter. “So, you like games, huh? You really did a number on me the other day. When did you start playing?”

The response he got was not what he’d expected. Remus’ expression hardened, and he turned his gaze away as he discarded the used stick with more force than was probably necessary.

“That’s hardly any of your concern, is it?”

Sirius blinked. And then blinked again. Was he still mad at him?

“Look, I’m really sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just-”

“You really think this is all just about this morning?” Remus snapped.

“What?” Sirius was confused. What had he done? He’d made a little fun of Remus the first time they talked, but it hadn’t been that bad, had it? 

“At least you weren’t smoking into my room today,” Remus added with a huff, which made Sirius frown.

He supposed he did smoke quite close to the edge of their balconies, but by the way Remus was talking, he felt like there was more to it. He tried to think of all the interactions they had had so far, but he couldn’t think of anything that would elicit Remus’ anger. His mind drifted to them sitting on his couch with the NHL game, how their shoulders had bumped together playfully, how Remus had even seemed to be comfortable once he got a controller in his hands. It was the only time Remus had acted in a friendly-ish manner towards him, without the scowl that seemed to be permanently weighing down on his brows. But none of his smiles had actually been directed at him, they had all been shared with Leo.

He smiled a lot around the blond, but whenever he was close to Sirius he seemed to be in a bad mood. Sirius hated that.

“What did I do for you to dislike me so much?”

“If you need to ask, it just shows that it’s not even worth answering you.”

Remus turned around and walked briskly to the door, leaving Sirius completely dumbfounded. The door opened just as Remus was reaching for the handle, and he almost bumped into Lily and James, who were coming in. Sirius watched as he nodded at them with a few words, threw one last glare his way, and disappeared in the afternoon sun.

Lily watched him walk away with a confused expression on her face. She glanced at James who just shrugged, and then she looked directly at Sirius with a deep frown. He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately.

“What was that all about?” she asked when they got next to him.

“He hates me, that’s what it was,” Sirius grumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius stared at Lily like she held all the answers in the world. “He looks at me like I’m the worst person to ever walk the Earth. What did I do to deserve that?”

Lily winced, and Sirius felt his heart freeze where it had melted on the floor.

“Well, apparently, you haven’t been a very good neighbor, have you?” she said gently. Everything started falling into place then, and Sirius suddenly had a pretty good idea what she was talking about. He could be a very self-absorbed prick after a row with his family.

“What can I do?”

“Maybe you should try apologizing first,” she doubted for a second before she kept going. “I’ve heard you broke something important of his on the day you two met.”

“That was him?!” Sirius asked in astonishment, remembering the day he’d knocked someone over in the hall, and ignoring the few heads that turned his way at his raised voice.

“You’re joking, right? You didn’t know?” When Sirius only shook his head, still speechless, Lily stared at him, bewildered. “Sirius, how could you not know?”

“I was so angry at the time Lily, I barely noticed anything I was doing!” Sirius said in a pleading voice. He glanced at James for support, who looked at him in sympathy and understanding. Sirius rubbed a hand over his face. “I just needed to get out of the flat, I couldn’t stand the sight of Reg with his cold eyes and-” Sirius stopped himself, clenching his fists.

It all came back to him. How Regulus had suddenly turned up at his flat, even though he wasn’t supposed to know the address. Even though he hadn’t visited Sirius’ home in five years.

How Reg had looked at him with such clear disappointment, like Sirius was nothing more than a waste of space, and had told him that he was expected to attend the annual Black Enterprises’ gala and fulfill his duty to the family. How he had stated that it was time he stopped acting like a child, with his foolish, selfish dreams, and took his place in the company.

Sirius had never wanted anything to do with the monster corporation that was Black Enterprises. He hated the way they did business and how they treated people, like anyone outside the Black family was trash.

A hand on his shoulder shook him away from his memories before he could spiral down into the hole he’d been in in the weeks before Halloween. Sirius looked up, and found James’ kind hazel eyes.

“It’s ok Pads,” he whispered. “You’re out of there. They have nothing on you, and you owe them absolutely nothing. I’m sure you can fix this.”

Sirius hoped his friend was right.

[atsukashii]

❝devils advocate❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ In a world of guardian angels, somehow, you got stuck with a guardian demon who is too hot for his own good. 

» CHARACTER PAIRING: demon!Katsuki Bakugou x human!reader

» WORD COUNT: 5.1K

» GENRE: demon x human au, guardian demon au

» WARNINGS: 16+; mentions of death (non-character related), blood, swearing & fluff

« masterlist || ao3 »

Everyone on earth had a guardian angel. Guardian angels watched out for you, protecting you until it was eventually your time to pass on. You couldn’t see them, but you would meet them twice within your life. First, when you were born - a memory that would always remain as if had been engraved into your soul, and then again when you died. There had never been a recorded case of someone not having a guardian angel, until you. Your parents had taken you to a doctor once they had become aware of it, thinking something was very wrong. However, the doctor quickly deduced that you were either lying or just simply didn’t remember. Because everyone had one, but somehow you didn’t have one. 

You were nine years old when Katuki Bakugou saved your life. 

You had been walking home from a dinner reservation with your parents, full-bellied, and full of smiles when the unthinkable happened. What was a shadow on the wall, emerged a man who struck down your parents with only a few swift blows. Knocked to the ground, you stared at the puddle of blood slowly making its way towards you, then to the crimson liquid that splattered from the killer’s brutal swing of his blade. It was on your hands, your clothes, everywhere. You don’t remember much of what he had said back then, but you remembered the way the moonlight glinted off his silver blade, as he rose it over his head - his intention to make you his next victim, only for him to never have the chance to even bring the weapon down. The killer just...evaporated into a bloody mist. You remembered how the air around you seemed to tense, the smell of electricity entering your nose as you looked upon this new stranger who had appeared from literally nowhere and had saved your life. 

You didn’t know much about guardian angels but you knew they were meant to have wings of white feathers. This...thing didn’t. Instead, his wings were jet black, dark membrane that resembled the wings of a bat, but with razor-sharp a looking talon’s on the top of each wing. They were utter terrifying. 

He stared at you for a moment and just watched, his red eyes glowing in the dark alley. Dressed from head to toe in black, it was a stark contrast to his ash blonde hair, but it was his eyes - that crimson gaze that once turned on you, your body had trembled in fear. He had walked towards you, so menacingly that you had scrambled away until your back met the wall of the alleyway.

“P-please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry, p-p-please…” you had cried and begged, your voice weak and quiet. You were just a kid and maybe that was why he had spared you that day. Instead of misting you like he had the other guy. Your eyes moved from him to your parents, still on the floor of the alleyway and you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. A cold hand met your face, turning your head from the sight and made your eyes meet his crimson gaze. His eyes glowed in the darkness whilst also seeming to suck you in as he searched for something. Letting out a scoff at whatever it was he found, he dropped his hand from your face and glared at you.

“No guardian huh?” Your heart stopped inside your chest for the millionth time that night. How had he known? “Listen up kid, from now on you’re under my protection. Nothings going to happen to you. Now get the fuck up,” And so far, he had been true to his word. 

Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t an angel, he was a demon. Something you hadn’t realised was real until that day, but if guardian angels were, it made sense that they were too. And for some reason, Katsuki had made it his mission to be your guardian...of sorts. He seemed to step into your life whenever he chose and took advantage of the fact that no one else could see him or hear him, a lot. He was a sarcastic asshole ninety percent of the time, and the other ten percent was when he went lethal and became death incarnate. He revelled in the fact that he was a major pain in the ass and liked to be the vaguest creature on the planet, dodging all your questions about him and demons in general. But over time, you’d gotten somewhat used to it. When you were younger, he was around sparingly, but once you had moved out of your grandparent’s house and into a boarding school, his appearances became more frequent, until he was spending almost every day with you. You both loved it and hated it. He could be nice, but it was rare, and instead had decided to hang around frequently purely to annoy the crap out of you. He would spend a lot of time just hanging out with you in your dorm room doing incredibly mundane things, and acting like he despised every second of it and had better things to do - yet never actually made a move to leave.

And today was no different. You are supposed to be doing your homework as you’ve got exams soon and should really be paying attention as you’re in your final year of high school. Graduation was so close you can almost taste it, and then you wouldn’t have to see anyone from this pompous and obnoxious school ever again. But the weather outside was dreary and the rain and could cover had motivated you not to do school work, but instead to get out your notebook and draw. So you sit at your desk, music playing from your phone, softly flowing through the room as you for the millionth time, trace a familiar shaped eye. You weren’t sure when you had first started drawing Katsuki, but whenever you sat down with something in your hand, purposely to draw - he tended to be the first thing that came out.  A familiar scent of a thunderstorm floods the room and you feel yourself relax in your chair as loud swearing breaks the peaceful quiet. 

“Hey idiot, clean up your damn room. You can barely see the fucking floor!” Looking over your shoulder to the blonde, you drop your eyes to the small pile of washing on the floor and roll your eyes. So dramatic. You ignore the remark and turn back to your drawing, not caring if he sees what you’re doing - he was already past the point of teasing you and now just critiques your work. “I ain’t fucking ugly!’ was his favourite retort about your drawings. You hear Katsuki walk over towards you, looking over your shoulder to the sketchbook on your desk, and then shifting to the unfinished homework in the corner. He scoffs at your antics, but can’t be surprised as you handing in uncompleted homework is a common thing at this school. You weren’t exactly the star pupil.

“Do your fucking homework y/n.” he badgers you. He constantly nags you over the most trivial things, like making sure you’re eating, getting out of bed on days when you just want to sleep through the whole day. For someone who can strike the fear of death into the hearts of grown-ass men, he sure acts like a mother hen a lot of the time.

“It’s just math stuff… I’ll do it later. And besides, my teacher has it out for me I swear.” You defend, but he just scoffs like he doesn’t believe you and sits on the edge of your bed. It’s then that you notice the plastic bag in his hands. Raising your eyebrows, spin your chair towards him, and hold out your hands.

“What did you get this time?” You ask, giddy at the surprise dinner that happens most nights because you don’t want to face your classmates in the communal kitchen. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know. You ain’t getting any idiot until you fucking start your homework.” Katsuki growls, pulling a plastic bowl from the bag and the smell of Italian food makes your stomach rumble. You glare at the blonde, knowing well how this is going to play out. 

“You would deny me sustenance that I need to make my brain work out of pure spite?” You ask. The demon’s eyes swirl with amusement and you know that you’re winning. 

“Don’t you use that fucking pity card with me.” He says, standing up to his full height and placing the bowl on your desk. “Eat, then do your fucking work idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, giving in easily before falling back onto your bed and opening his own food. You grab the plastic utensils and practically dive into the ravioli. The creamy flavour bursting on your tongue if so rich you groan. 

“Where did you get this?” You ask, and the look Katsuki gives you - you can basically hear his response in your own mind. Where do you think I got it, idiot? With his ability to slip into shadows, your guardian demon also has a knack for travelling to other sides of the world in seconds, just for food. You have knickknacks from around the world in your dorm room from when he travels and you convince him to buy you something small. He’s got a dark sense of humour, so a lot of the things can be kinda creepy or just plain stupid, but you don’t mind. The fact that he brings you something is enough. You had a feeling he had once again, slipped into shadows and gotten tonight's dinner freshly from the homeland of pasta, and you wonder if he somehow knew you were craving Italian food.  You both eat in silence before something on your desk catches Katsuki’s eye, and he can’t help but open his mouth. 

“What the hell is that?” you follow his gaze to the partially scrunched up flyer sitting on top of your school books and sigh.

“A flyer for the school dance on Friday.” You say, shoving ravioli into your mouth so you don’t have to keep talking about it. You don’t really have a lot of friends, its a fact that you’re not embarrassed about. It was just the fact that you didn’t have a guardian angel had gotten you teased when you were younger, and add on top of that what happened to your parents - people thought you were bad luck and tended to stay far from you. But today, something had changed. 

“And you’re going to go to that fuck fest?” Your food gets caught in your throat and you momentarily choke from his words. He has no filter. Your eyes water as you drink from your water bottle, you look at Katsuki whos watching you with his regular frown. Not even concerned in the slightest that you were just choking.

“No, I don’t think so…” You manage to get out, putting the lid back on your now-empty food bowl and pushing it to the corner of your desk. You can feel his glare at the back of your head as you hesitate to grab your books, but like usual, the demon wins and you grab your homework. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking at you. Him and his stupid smug face. Opening your books, you let out a sigh at the work. Katsuki has an unnerving ability to see straight through you, so you’re not surprised when he suddenly snaps at you.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘i don’t think so’?” he growls and you just shrug.

“I was asked.” You suddenly blurt out, your cheeks pink as you recall the awkward conversation earlier that day between you and a guy in your class. Because you didn’t really have a lot of friends at school, when you were asked by one of the most attractive guys in your grade, to say you were surprised was an understatement.

The demon just blinks at you, shock actually evident on his face, which is a first. He hides a lot of his emotions from you, basically everything other than anger and annoyance, and somewhat amusement. 

“Someone asked you?” Katsuki grumbles, and something in his tone annoys you. He says it as if the thought of someone asking you was so unthinkable, and that hurt. Turning towards him, you give him a proper glare that has him stilling - not out fear because you’re you, and he is a demon - but just interest. He knows he’s annoyed you, it’s something he does a lot - but this time he’s properly pissed you off. 

“Is that so hard to imagine?” you snarl at the blonde. If he’s taken back by your pissed off tone, he doesn’t let it show. 

“Didn’t mean it like that idiot. I only meant that you don’t really hang out with a lot of people.” He was digging himself a deeper hole. “And why the fuck would you want to go anyways? I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re a demon and ‘mundane shit is beneath you,’” you quote the words he has used against you multiple times before. You don’t give him a chance to respond before you go off again. “And I want to go because I feel like I’m missing out on some big thing in the whole ‘high school experience’ if I don’t. I didn’t get the stereotypical school adventure that other people seem to get. I didn’t go to parties or sports events. So I’m going to this dance because someone asked me, and if you’ve got a problem with that you can leave.” You’re breathing hard when you finish, glaring with everything in you at him. He simply scoffs at you and gets up from your bed.

“Whatever. Go to the fucking dance, I’ve got shit to do.” for a moment your heart lurches in your chest as he moves away from you and towards the door as if he’s actually going to use it. The thought of him leaving always makes you feel uneasy for reasons you can’t really explain, maybe you’ve just got some weird separation anxiety from him seeing as he’s always around. 

“Katsuki-” His eyes are on yours as he steps into a shadow and then he’s gone. You let out a sigh and turn back to your desk, looking at your drawing book still open, his eyes in monochrome staring back at you. You close the book harshly and lean back on your chair. 

Why is he such an asshole?

❀ ❀ ❀

Friday comes around quickly but doesn’t go the way you were expecting it to. The dance begins at seven, yet here you are at half-past, sitting on your bed. You’d scrambled to find a dress and even put on makeup, and it was all for fucking nothing. Because you have been stood up. The whole thing was a damned joke, he never wanted to take you. You’re eyes sting and you quickly sniff - no I will not let this mediocre, insignificant guy ruin my damn makeup! you coach yourself, trying not to let it hurt as much as it does. You reach up to rub your nose until suddenly, striding out of nowhere like he owns the place, Katsuki appears in your room. You hadn’t seen him since he walked out on you two days ago. At first, you were pissed because you were his friend and he was being petty. But then, you’d missed him, a lot. You’d missed him lecturing you on your untidy room, you’d missed him when you had to walk to the food court for dinner, you had missed his smug face when he would catch you looking at him when you were reading and he was sitting doing god knows what. You had just missed his presence a lot, and that made you realise that you really liked this demon that had come into your life in the worst of times, yet somehow made it a whole lot better.

You’re about to question what the heck he’s doing here when he stops in his spot and looks over you. The red dress a now waste of money, along with the heels on your feet. It was all for nothing. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some dance right now?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous as he slowly puts things together. He probably already knows what’s happened just by looking at you, he’s too intelligent not to.

“I got stood up.” You explain embarrassed. You should have listened to Katsuki when he said it was a bad idea. Something deadly flickers to life in his vermilion gaze, and he suddenly spins, stalking for the door with a lithe swiftness that you know means he’s about to go and cause someone grievous bodily harm. Nope nope nope, that’s not happening. “It’s fine, Katsuki. Really.” Your words make him stop in his spot, and he turns half towards you, searching your face. “It was stupid to want to go anyways. You were right, it was a waste.”

“No it’s fucking not.” He hisses, pure rage radiating off him pulses. Closing his eyes, he lets out a sharp breath where you could have sworn you actually saw steam come from his nose. But then he looks you over once more, taking in the rare appearance of you in a dress. Thinking back on it, there’s a high chance that he’s never seen you in one, as you normally opt for shorts or jeans. 

“Fuck this.” Katsuki sighs. He snaps his fingers and in the blink of an eye, his jeans and tee shirt are swapped for slacks and a button-up. Still pitch black in classic Katsuki fashion and his hair is still a mess but he’s dressed up and you can’t help but admit that he looks really handsome. You stare at him, processing the action for a moment.  He looks so different. His wings are gone, you didn’t even know he could do that, heck you didn’t know he could snap his fingers and bam! If you didn’t already know he was a demon and you wanted to die, you’d tease him about how fairy-like that was. But again, you value your life. 

It’s odd though, to see him without his wings. He almost looks like a regular person, but there is something about him, that makes him look like something more than human. Maybe it’s the sharp jaw or the piercing eyes, you weren’t sure - but there’s something other-worldly that he couldn’t seem to contain.

“Get off your ass.” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and you stare at him as he stands with his hand on the door handle holding it open. Shifting your gaze between the open doorway and him, you glance up at his face and at his serious expression. He’s not joking, he’s going to the dance. For you, with you, so you can go and won’t be alone.

You can’t contain your smile as you stand up and practically skip to the doorway. Happiness bubbling inside you and you want to grin, but for his sake, you calm it down and settle on a small smile. He rolls his eyes and offers you his arm. He’s full of surprises tonight, you think as you take it.

He doesn’t make a single grumble or comment as you head to the school gymnasium, and you hold your tongue as he hands the person at the door two tickets. How the hell did he even get those? The student collecting tickets eyes you both as you walk inside. It’s so cringe and everything you pictured it would be, and you can’t help but grin. Streamers dangle from the roof, white table cloths and balloons cover the tables, dim lighting and somewhat loud music - its perfect. You look to Katsuki who is eyeing your smile with raised eyebrows. I can’t believe you like this shit, he seems to say, but from the small smile on his face you know he’s amused by you.

“Come on idiot, let’s go.” As you walk through the throngs of people towards a table, you feel their eyes sticking to you like glue, shocked to see you here. And it’s then that you realise that other people can see him - you didn’t even know that was possible.

“I didn’t know you could make yourself be seen by people.” You mutter to him. Katsuki scoffs at you and gives you his typical ‘you’re an idiot’ expression.

“Of course I can, how the fuck do you think I saved your life dumbass?” He says, mentioning when you had first met and he… Okay, that makes sense. But he’s never done this before, he’s never let himself be seen by other people, he’s never changed his appearance like this either… You come to the realisation just how big of a deal this is for him, and you squeeze his arm in thanks. He flexes his arm under your touch and you know that’s his version of telling you it wasn’t a big deal. 

You two spend the rest of the night laughing as Katsuki rips into other people and making up random crap about them just to make you laugh. His attempt to cheer you up isn’t missed by you, and you’re so grateful that he’s trying. People glance at you both every so often, wondering just who he is, but no one has approached to ask - however, that’s most likely due to the vicious glare that Katsuki drills into anyone that comes too close to your table. But you’re thankful for the fact that its just the two of you. 

The music switches to something slow and you can’t help but eye the people coupling off in the middle of the gymnasium floor. Looking quickly at Katsuki who looks too good to be true in the blue lighting, you suck in a breath and prepare yourself. Ignoring the sudden nervous rollercoaster-worthy butterflies springing to life in your stomach, you stand from your chair and shove your hand towards your guardian demon. 

“Dance with me.” You try to say with confidence. Katsuki’s lips tick up ever so slightly at your lame attempt of assurance.

“I ain’t dancing with you, idiot.” He says, leaning back in his chair and pretending to get comfortable. Maybe if you didn’t know him any better you would have thought he was serious, and that dancing was his limit. But you had known Katsuki for years and spent more time with him then you had with anyone ever. You knew him, and he knew you. And you knew that although it would probably earn you grumbling, groaning and eternal complaints, he would do it. 

“Please…” With an over-dramatic groan, Katsuki raises from his chair and takes your hand. Your cheeks instantly warm at the contact, and your heart jumps to your throat as he leads you from the table. It’s not the first time he’s touched you, he’s held you before on sleepless nights where you’ve woken up from nightmares of your parents and sat with you tucked into his side until you can determine what’s real and what’s not. But this time, it’s different; you realise you want him to hold your hand. You want him to tuck you into his chest and hold you - and you want him to want too as well. He guides you out to the crowd of people and walks you right to the middle before placing his warm hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. Your arms brace yourself on his chest as you crash into him, and he grins wildly at your blushing face. 

You sway side to side, ignoring everyone else in the room as you look up to him. Not in a million years did you ever think you would find yourself here, but it was harder to wrap your head around the fact that it was with Katsuki, the demon that had taken it upon himself to look out for you.

“Why are you doing this for me?” You have to ask. You have to know if he feels the same way as you. Because if he doesn’t then you’ve got to draw some sort of lines, because your heart won’t be able to take it - no matter how much it will hurt to separate yourself from him. 

His vermillion eyes stare into yours, and you feel yourself being slightly sucked in. He had told you at first that it was a demon thing, but maybe it’s just a Katsuki thing. They glinted like rubies when the lights hit them, and as much as he would hate you saying it - he was very pretty. 

“Because I didn’t want you to miss out on something that obviously meant so much to you dumbass.” Alright, that was a logical answer. But there was something more than he was withholding from you, you knew it. 

“Please…” the whisper left your mouth, and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Tearing his gaze from you, your eyes settled on his throat just in time to see him swallow nervously. Surely not. You couldn’t even remember a time when you had ever seen him anything other than confident. 

“When I first found you, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Something pulled me to that alleyway that night and I still don’t know what or why. Once I saw what was going on, I was going to leave you there.” his admission rocks you, and instinctively try to step back, but his arms tighten around you - locking you in place and keeping you close to him. “And then I saw your parents, and you on the floor and I had to do something.” He sighs, hanging his head slightly so you can hear him better. “There are laws, even for my kind, that we have to follow. And that day, I broke a lot of them - and have continued to do so every day since then.” He says, his explanation surprising you. He doesn’t really talk about his private life, and or what really goes on with demons. So him even telling you this, its a lot. He moves slightly, now looking into your eyes with complete severity and something else in his gaze that traps the air inside your lungs. 

“I can’t explain what I’m doing, because I don’t even fucking know. But I know one thing, and that’s the fact I want to be around you all the damn time, and if I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you and it drives me fucking crazy.” his hands tighten on your hips as if trying to tether you to this moment for as long as he can. Because with his revelations, your brain is threatening to float away but you force yourself to stay grounded to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so long.

“All I want is you, dumbass.” Holy shit. Katsuki is smiling softly down at you, and you honestly can’t believe what’s currently happening, but you honestly know if you don’t kiss him now you will spontaneously combust.

You don’t even give him a chance to breathe before you grab his cheeks, raising on your toes and crush his lips to yours. You feel him tense beneath your hands and for a split second, you think shitshitshitshit and try to pull away. Then in a movement too fast to be natural, a hand moves to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and proceeding to make your legs turn into noodles. You should probably care that you’re in the middle of a high school dance right now, but you can’t bring yourself to. All you care about is the demon currently stealing the breath from your lungs and making butterflies swarm your stomach in a mad panic. Your lips separate by just a few inches, and you finally breathe again, unsure as to if you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen or the kiss, but you have a feeling its both. The smug smile that tugs at Katsuki’s mouth make you think its probably the latter. 

“Um, I...” You want to say something other than that, but your brain and mouth are no longer working together, so you momentarily stand there like a moron, which makes the guy in front of you smug as hell. 

“If I knew that’s what it took to shut you up, I would have done that a long time ago.” Katsuki grins another feral smile and you can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from your lips. Your face floods with embarrassment over your lack of motor skills and you lean your forehead against his chest. The sound of his pounding heart makes you grin too, knowing that you’re not the only one affected by this new massive thing in your life. Katsuki’s hand brushes your head softly and you close your eyes, just letting yourself sway along with him to the music. You realise that the argument you had earlier in the week wasn’t about the dance, but someone taking you to the dance… and of course, he couldn’t come to that conclusion and asked you himself because he’s too stubborn and is a demon… He’s a demon, the reality jumps around your brain, and you try to find the problem with the statement, but you can’t. Not when he is who he is. 

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” You ask against his chest. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not going to be easy. There’s so much I need to tell you,” Looking up at him, he lets you see the insecurity surrounding your response, something he wouldn’t let anyone normally see. Did he honestly think that you were going to leave now? After all of that?

“Nothing in my life has ever really been easy,” you point out, unable to hide your smile once again. “So I’m not surprised that anything surrounding you would be anything but.” Any hesitation he had is gone as he leans his forehead against yours, a sigh slipping from his lips. You can’t hold the words in, and for once, they come out with such conviction, it leaves no room for doubt. 

“I love you Katsuki,” His eyes are closed, but his smile is wide, and you can see the happiness in his features. 

“Thank you y/n.” Unsure as to why exactly he’s thanking you, you tighten your arms around him and this time he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you too, y/n.” You revel in the words, closing your eyes and swaying along to the music. 

Katsuki Bakugou was a demon who had saved your life when you were nine years old, and you were stupidly, irrevocably in love with him, and that would never change. 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[escapewriter]

Light of My Life

pairing : minghao x reader

synopsis : what’s better than celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday rapunzel style?

genre : whole lotta fluff and a bit of humor

word count : 2k

warnings : slight mentions of murder but its a joke

a/n : for minghao’s birthday😌 it isnt a lot like how i wanted but it does justice lol. also, lets pretend they weren’t by the ocean lol

svt written masterlist || main masterlist

You sat in your apartment opening the box you received from the mail today. Jun had helped you plan this date for Minghao for his birthday and this item would complete the whole date. You pulled out the lanterns that were in a plastic bag and scanned them. 

“Perfect,” You place them carefully in the picnic basket, finally set for your date with Minghao tomorrow. You heard your phone buzz on the table.

Minghao : hi yn, what you up to?

You smiled at his text, grateful that he took the time to text you even with his busy schedule 

You : i am currently preparing for our date tomorrow :D

Minghao : ooo how exciting. can i know what you have planned??

You : you should know the answer to that question 

Minghao rolled his eyes as he stared at his screen. Of course you would turn the tables on him, he always made your dates a surprise. 

Minghao : no fair :(

You : how is this not fair??

Minghao : cuz i want to know lol. 

You contemplated but stood your ground; you can’t tell him. 

You : guess you just have to find out tomorrow. 

Minghao sighed, giving up on attempting to find out what you have planned. 

Minghao : fine. but don’t think ill tell you what i have planned for your birthday. 

You : yeah yeah i know. dont you still have practice?

He looked at the clock in the practice room and then to some of his members who were sitting on the floor or standing. 

Minghao : yeah i should probably get going. its late too, you should sleep. 

You : i will dont worry. stay safe and dont push yourself. 

Minghao : i wont. goodnight my love, i love you.

You : i love you too. 

You locked your phone and took the basket, placing it on the kitchen counter. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day. 

~

You placed the basket with all the supplies you needed in the trunk of your car, deciding to make it a surprise. Taking the other basket that you prepared this morning with various types of food, you put it in the backseat behind the drivers side. Getting in, you started the car and headed to Minghao’s dorm. 

You tapped the wheel in excitement, you finally get to have some part of the day with Minghao before his birthday. It was November 6th, so it wasn’t exactly his birthday, but you did get to have him until midnight and that’s all that counts. And it made your plan perfect. 

You got to the parking garage and texted your boyfriend that you were downstairs waiting. After 5 minutes, you see the elevator open and Minghao step out, looking as handsome as ever. 

He approached the car and got into the passenger seat, giving you a quick kiss. “Hi,” he smiled at you, “Hi,” you smiled back. You began to pull out of the building, picking up a small conversation with each other.

“How was the drive?” You turned down the radio, “Same as usual, smooth, nothing wrong, I was safe.” He smiled, happy that you had a decent ride, “That’s good. So, where are we going?”

You took your eyes off the road to look at him for a split second before focusing back on the road. A grin creeped onto your face, “You’ll find out soon Hao. Be patient, you’ll love it.”

“No, I know I’ll love it, I just have to let my manager know because of protocol,” You sighed, “Is that really the reason?” He looked outside the window, playing with his rings, “Half of it, they told me to have fun.” 

You smiled and turned up the radio, “Shut up and enjoy the ride baby. Trust, you’ll enjoy it more.”

~

“This is nice,” Minghao sighed beside you on the picnic blanket. “Yeah it is.”

All the food in the basket was empty, mainly Minghao devouring most of it. “So, what are we gonna do now?” You looked at the time on your phone. Sun sets at 6:45 and it’s 3:50. You have three hours for what you have planned so it should be enough. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to get something.” You got up quickly and retrieved the extra basket that was in the trunk. You returned to Minghao, “Ta da!” 

“More food??” You laughed and sat down in your place, “No, an activity. Jun actually helped me with the idea.” You opened up the basket, taking out of the things you packed inside, “What is this YN?” He picked up one of the lanterns. 

“It’s a lantern. I packed all these art supplies so we could decorate them and light them up and release them. Originally, I wanted to do it at midnight because that’s when your actual birthday is, but the timing wasn’t right, and plus it’s dangerous during nighttime.” 

He looked at you with his mouth agape, “That’s so,,, thoughtful. I can’t believe you came up with this.” 

“Actually Jun-” “-let’s just give you the credit for now.” You smiled at him as he leaned over and kissed you on the lips. You held his face in place as his right hand was planted in between the two of you so he wouldn’t lose balance. Pulling away, you smiled at each other, “Happy Birthday my love.” 

“Thank you, I love you so much. Now! Let's get to painting!”

~

“My lantern looks like crap oh my god,” you looked at the blue blob on your cylinder object. “I’m sure it looks fine YN, just keep going.” You put down the paint brush and looked at your boyfriend. 

He’s been in ‘The8’ mode ever since you two started painting. He didn’t want you to see what he was making, so it became a rule that when you both finish, that’s when you present your pieces to each other. 

“I don’t know why you’re not letting me see yours, it’s not like I haven’t seen you paint before.” You continued to try and make your blob look presentable by drawing a happy face, “You know, when you took me out here in like the middle of nowhere, I thought you would’ve killed me, broken up with me and left me here to starve, or go cloud watching.”

You looked at him with a weird face, “Well for one thing, there are no clouds today. And two, I wouldn’t have let you starve, that’s too painful.” You finally looked up at you, “So you would’ve killed me?” 

You purse your lips, “Would you rather starve to death?” He rolled his eyes and looked back down at his artwork. 

“I get that Jun helped you with this, but like, how did the idea come about?” You painted mindlessly while pondering on an answer, “Well I thought of you and what you would like, even if you said anything. But I just thought about what you meant to me, like how lanterns are bright when you light them up, and when you release them, they float. It’s a really bad metaphor, but you’re like my lantern. You’re the light of my life and every time I’m with you, I’m always on cloud nine. Plus it fits with your culture.”

He was looking at you when you tried to sneak a peek at his lantern. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just see you try to look at my lantern. But besides the point, that was really cheesy, but I love you.” You smiled and put down the brush. 

“Well, I’m done with mine.” You looked at him, seeing him also set down his brush, “Me too. Do we let it dry and assemble it?” You contemplated on your answer for a bit, “Uhh, I could probably assemble mine because it looks like trash anyway, but if you like yours, let it dry a little and then assemble it.” 

~

Minghao just finished assembling his lantern after it dried for a bit. It was currently 6:50, the sky was just turning into various shades of orange, pink and purple. “Okay, wanna see mine now?” You looked at your boyfriend and he held his lantern behind his back, “Show me.”

He brought it in front of him and lifted it up, slowly turning it to see the details that he drew on. “Wow, it looks beautiful, I can’t really see it.”

He brought it back down and signaled for you to scoot closer, “This here, is the bouquet of your favorite flower that I got you for Valentines Day,” You smiled as he turned it a little to move to the next picture, “This is the tree that we sat by on one of our dates. The one where a bird pooped on you,” You laughed and slightly hit his shoulder, “I can’t believe you put that there.”

“How could I not? It was an amazing memory. Anyway, this is a drawing of our matching bracelets, I didn’t want to paint it because I thought it would ruin it, so it’s a bit plain.” You shook your head, “No it’s beautiful.” He turned it to the final piece.

“This is a picture of us, or a silhouette of us. We’re watching the lanterns fly up into the beautiful sky together.” You felt a tear drop fall from your eye, “Aw crap what the fuck? Why am I crying?” You giggled and quickly tried wiping away the tears with your hands as Minghao laughed beside you. 

He put down his lantern and pulled you in closer to him, “Why are you crying though, baby?” You sniffed, “Because this is a celebration for you, and I feel like I should’ve painted something beautiful for you.” You kissed your forehead softly, “I don’t care what you paint baby, as long as I’m here with you, it doesn’t matter.”

“I kinda don’t want to release that one, it’s too beautiful.” He looked at you with a pout, “but I painted the future.” 

You laughed, checking your phone, “Okay fine. It’s 7:10, we should light it up now.” 

You both got up, lanterns in your hands. Grabbing a lighter, you lit yours and then Minghao’s, “Ready YN?” You held the hand that he held out, “I feel like I’m in high school musical,” he laughed, squeezing your hand, “Keep it PG, we do not makeout in public.”

“Okay,” You rolled your eyes with a smile, “On the count of three.” You both gazed into each other’s eyes, “1. 2. 3.” 

You both let go of the lanterns and saw them slowly float into the sun-kissed sky. You felt Minghao release your hand before hearing jazz music begin to play and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, swaying softly to the music. 

“Of course jazz music.” You heard him chuckle behind you, “Well, you can’t blame me, it’s a perfect time for it.” You smiled and leaned more into his embrace.

“Did you like the date?” He hummed in response, his chin on your shoulder, “It was perfect. I loved it a lot, thank you for making this special for me.” 

“Of course. It’s, well almost your big day after all.” You turned around, placing your hands on his shoulders and his on your waist. “Happy Birthday my love,” He smiled at you, heart filled with love and happiness as he looked into your eyes more. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your lips, taking your breath away. You would never get tired of this feeling. 

Pulling away, you smiled at each other before he looked up, “We should take a picture.” He took out his phone from his pocket, pausing the music and switching on the camera. He held it at a low angle to get the lanterns in the picture, but also getting the sunset in the background.

“Say cheese!” Instead of smiling at the camera, you placed your lips on his cheek, him capturing the moment perfectly. “You sly person,” you giggled and quickly pecked his lips. You grabbed his phone and resumed the jazz music. 

Hold out your hand, “I believe we were dancing earlier?” He gave you a smirk and took your hand into his before pulling you closer, the two of you watching the sunset and dancing slowly to the sound of jazz.

[amaya777]

Runway Dreams | A Twisted Wonderland Oneshot

TwstOBer 28. Pomefiore - Pomefiore and male reader

With this theme, since it’s Pomefiore I wondered what to do since like with Savanaclaw, I already did the Vampire AU for them. But thinking of how beauty seems to be a big thing with the dorm, that it would mean it’s not just for those who are beautiful but who appreciate or create beauty in any form with hard work. So I wrote this with that in mind.

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

Honestly you were still surprised that you got sorted into Pomefiore, a dorm so beautiful and full of beautiful students too. But you weren’t even close to them, so plain and ordinary in your appearance. It was intimidating, though at least it should give you plenty of inspiration to come up with designs. As long as others can be beautiful or even more so by wearing your clothing, that would make you happy.

You sat at one of the tables outside the dormitory, thankful that no one else was around. Holding your pencil and notebook, you were admiring the view while sketching out something. It was another design, but the model for it was a certain dorm leader with purple-tipped hair. Suddenly you looked up and there was the Vice dorm head Rook in front of you, quickly clutching the notebook to your chest as he smiled.

“Monsieur, what a lovely day it is. What might you be doing out here?”

“Oh, um n-nothing! Just sitting outside, relaxing.”

You had tried to lie and hide what you were doing before Rook leaned in, still smiling.

“Are you sure? You looked to be drawing something involving Roi du Poison-”

“I should get going!”

Immediately you stood up, shaking your head and still clutching the notebook to your chest before running away back into the dorm. You wondered how Rook possibly knew what you were drawing, going back to your room. What if he told Vil? That would be embarrassing and thinking that he could be lectured for drawing the dorm head like this. Meanwhile Rook was still outside, having watched you leave when Vil came walking up to the other.

“What was that about, Rook?”

“It seems that Monsieur Fashion is a budding designer and was drawing an outfit with you in mind. It was simply beaute!”

Rook smiled before whispering to the other about what he saw on the notebook from a window up above. Vil nodded, surprised and intrigued before he gestured and made his way inside. You were hiding away in your room, door closed as you worked away on your sewing machine with fabric in hand. This was how you relaxed and passed the time, making clothing and garments with all your designs in notebooks and pinned onto a corkboard.

But then you heard the knock, surprised and worried as you called out that it was open. So the door opened as Vil and Rook came walking into the room, looking around. Oh crap! You panicked when you saw Vil staring at your design sketches before he came over.

“So it is indeed true. You have an eye for fashion and bringing out a person’s natural beauty through fitting clothing. Surely you could be the next Crewel with enough time and practice along with exposure.”

This felt so strange, being noticed and complemented by Vil of all people. But you were surprised as he then got close and held your chin in his hand.

“But just because you make clothes for other people, that doesn’t mean you should slack on your own appearance as well. You need to have pride in yourself as a designer too. So you will work on yourself along with designing outfits for us and Epel for a small runway show coming up.”

WHAT?!

This was a shock, like something out of a crazy dream. But it was very real as Vil was giving you a skincare regime to follow while you took his measurements, consulting with him about the design. Then came Rook as he allowed you to take his body measurements and work with him on an outfit that fits him and goes well with Vil’s ensemble. Finally they brought Epel in, taking his measurements as you got to know him while working on a design for him too.

After months of cutting, sewing, and fittings with the three along with following that regime; the Pomefiore fashion show was ready to begin. First came Epel wearing an ensemble that was both cute and masculine in perfect harmony, bringing out his soft looks while showing another side to the boy.

Then came Rook, wearing an outfit that was sleek and elegant as he walked with a grin. It was easy for him to move in, bowing with a flourish. By that point, many students had been taking pictures and recording this for Magicam. Finally came Vil, last but certainly not least down the runway.

He was wearing an over-the-top regal ensemble that only accentuated his beauty and aura, everyone amazed including Rook and Epel with many flashes of the cameras. At the end, Vil gestured for you to come out while the three of them stood in their outfits. You were nervous, taking a deep breath before walking out onto the runway while wearing a formal outfit that Vil chose for you. Once you got to the front, Vil smiled and then took your hand, raising both as those watching all clapped loudly. Wow, all of this applause and being noticed felt so new and great, glowing inside and outward too as you had smiled brightly and bowed.

Thanks to all the attention, you quickly got noticed as lots of people were wanting you to design for them. But for now, you were taken under Crewel’s wing and also became Vil’s exclusive designer at his insistence. It was thanks to him that all of this even happened, still taking care of yourself and becoming more confident too.

[emisfritish]

The risk it took to blossom (+1 - Final part)

Pairing : Sarawat / Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : Five times someone talked Tine through his self-doubt and helped him see his worth, and the one time he didn’t need them to. Chapter : 6/6

Previous chapters : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Notes : Well, here we are ! I promised I would post the last part before the episode today so... HAPPY FRIDAY GUYS ! I hope you enjoyed this story, and it will have helped the wait for this week’s episode even a tiny bit. Enjoy this last part and most of all... Enjoy the episode in a couple hours =)

-------- 

“So, are you nervous ?” Sarawat asks Tine when he turns towards him,, eyes travelling on his face to try and evaluate his emotions.

CTRL S’s concert is in a few hours, and Sarawat and Tine had decided to meet beforehand so they could relax and maybe calm their nerves… Well. Tine’s nerves, mainly. They are sitting next to each other on the stairs in front of their university, shoulders brushing against one another every time one of them moves. 

“A little,” he answers with a nervous smile, in turn turning towards Sarawat. “But I think it’s good nerves ? At least, that’s what many musicians say, from what I’ve seen in interviews and so on. That a little nerves before a concert is good. Not that I am a musician, but you know what I…” 

Sarawat cuts Tine’s rambling off by pressing forward and pecking him on the lips once. 

“Tine, you’re about to go on stage for a concert. You’re a musician,” he says with a proud smile.

“Oh, right… I guess you do have a point. I’m a musician ! That’s cool,” Tine answers back with a grin, causing Sarawat to smile back at him.

“That’s hot,” he says with his cheeky smirk. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to date a musician, and now I know,” he leers towards Tine, one of his hands making its way to his chest to touch his favorite part of Tine’s body. 

Before he can do anything though, Tine catches his wrist and stops the movement. He’s already nervous about the concert, he really doesn’t need to add another layer of… that particular emotion to the whole night.

“Ok, you perv. Enough. Save some of that for after the concert,” he laughs at Sarawat, and the other boy just grins in answer. 

“Oh, trust me, I will.”

They stay seated in silence for a couple minutes, and Tine feels the nerves get a little more intense as the clock ticks closer to the concert hour. He’s wringing his hands together when one of Sarawat’s comes to stop the movement, taking one of them in his and lifting it up to press a kiss to his palm.

“I think you’re going to be amazing,” he says simply. 

“Actually, I think we’re all going to be amazing,” responds Tine.

Because they are, okay ? They’ve been practicing so much, and they have a great set list, and all of them know the songs on the tip of their fingers, even Tine. So… Yeah. They’re going to be amazing, he’s decided.

Sarawat pulls his phone out of his pocket, plugging his earphones into it and Tine smiles when he sees him pull up a playlist called “Tine and Sarawat’s perfect soundtrack”, before he puts one of the earphones in Tine’s ear and the other one in his, and presses play.

Muey’s voice instantly fills his ear, and Tine finds his nerves quieting already. The power Scrubb will always have over him truly is amazing, and he loves that Sarawat realizes that.

Sarawat draws himself closer to Tine and he drops his head on Tine’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck lightly, before sighing happily when Tine picks up one of his hands to play with his fingers while they listen quietly to the songs. 

“God, have you even seen him ? How is he deserving of such a perfect man ?” they hear a vicious voice say behind them, and Tine feels Sarawat immediately grow tense at the words.

“Seriously though, look at him, he’s so weird looking ! Sarawat is an 11 who settled for a 2 and the world is so unfair,” whines another voice. 

“I heard that he was going to play with Sarawat’s band too. Riding your boyfriend’s coattail, much ?” someone else asks sarcastically, and Tine can feel Sarawat grow tenser in his arm with every word, while he feels annoyance grow within him.

God, what was wrong with people. Seriously ?

“I also hear he’s a cheerleader. A fucking cheerleader ! I bet he’s dumb as hell,” Tine recognizes the first voice that spoke, venim still present in the tone.

“He’s just so… plain, too. Like he’s so flawed and imperfect, how does he deserve to be with someone as perfect as Sarawat is ?”

“Honestly, I give them one month before Sarawat snaps out of it and finally comes to his senses, dumping this boy’s ass and finding someone who is better suited for him,” says someone in the group, prompting the other two people  to laugh. 

At those words, Sarawat, who looks ready to wring some necks and looks angrier than Tine has seen him in a long time, pushes on Tine’s knee to use it as leverage to get up from where he is seated on the stairs neck to Tine. Knowing the other boy is probably going to confront the group, Tine catches his arm before he can get up fully and pulls him back down next to him.

“It’s okay Wat, forget it,” he says when Sarawat turns towards him, fury evident in his eyes.

“It’s not okay Tine,” he answers angrily. “Do you not hear the filth that is coming out of their mouths ?”

“I hear them, I just don’t really care,” Tine reassures him with a shrug of his shoulders, and Sarawat stares at him, probably trying to assess the truth in his words.

“You don’t ?”  His eyes still roaming over his face to gauge his reaction, as if he can’t quite believe what his boyfriend is telling him.

“I really don’t,” Tine says with a smile, before he pulls Sarawat forward to kiss him, feeling Sarawat’s lips turn to a smile against his.

And the thing is, Tine isn’t even lying. He’s annoyed that this group of people made Sarawat go all tense that way and ruined the soft moment they were sharing, but he really doesn’t care one bit about what they think about his relationship, or of him, as a matter of fact.

It’s taken him a while and been quite the journey, but the only opinions he cares about in this situation are Sarawat’s and his. And as much as it surprises even himself… He has all the confidence in the world right now. Confidence in their relationship, as well as confidence in himself. 

Because surely, if he is surrounded by people as amazing as his friends, and his boyfriend… Then he figures he has to be pretty amazing himself. 

Sarawat pulls away from the kiss and smiles happily towards him. And faced with a smile like this one, Tine thinks that maybe he can take the high road on this one and just ignore the rest of the world.

“Do you think he’s just using Sarawat for his fame ? Like he’s with him because he wants to become popular, and as soon as that happens he’ll leave him ?” they hear one of the voices behind them say, and Sarawat’s smile immediately dims at the words.

But then again, maybe taking the high road is overrated.

He takes Sarawat’s hands in his and squeezes them once, before he lets them go and gets up himself, taking the steps two at a time until he arrives in front of the trio of people that have been talking about him and Sarawat behind their backs for more than 10 minutes now. 

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” he says with a fake smile, and he has to admit, the pleasure he gets from seeing their faces drop and morph into shock is pretty intense. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear you have quite a lot to say about me and my boyfriend. But then again, it’s not like you were really trying to hide it, were you  ?” he asks saccharine, and he sees one of the girls start to pale, while the boy sitting in the middle looks everywhere but at Tine. 

“So let me make a couple things clear, yeah ?” he asks, smile still in place. “First, I find it pretty sad that all three of you apparently have nothing better to do than spend your time talking behind our backs, as if you actually knew anything about either of us. Just so we’re clear, I don’t really give a crap what you might think of me, Sarawat, or our relationship. But maybe this would be a good moment to take a good look at your life and reevaluate, don’t you think ?”

He waits a couple seconds to see if either of them will dare say anything, and when the silence persists and he sees one of the girls swallowing nervously, he smiles mockingly towards them.

“The second thing I wanted to say was, you can pine and trash talk all you want. Clearly, it helps make you feel better about your lives and I wouldn’t want to deprive you of that,” he continues, and he sees one of the girls open her mouth to answer back, before she seems to think better of it and closes her mouth again. “You should just be aware that Sarawat will never give you the time of the day. You know why ? Because he loves me. He loves me.”

By now, there is total silence and Tine knows that a few students other than the ones he is talking to can probably hear everything he is saying, but he really doesn’t care what any of them might think right now.

“You are right about one thing though, Sarawat is pretty phenomenal, and I’m far from being perfect. Then again, neither is Sarawat, as you would know if you had ever talked to him in your life. The mouth he can have on him sometimes.... Let’s just say, you’re lucky I’m the one doing the talking right now. So yeah, neither of us are perfect. But Sarawat and I though, we are perfect together. And really, there is nothing you can say or do that will change that fact.” he finishes, and he sees them fidgeting in front of him.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’ll let you go back to your gossiping and I’ll go join my amazing boyfriend. We have a concert to go to, and I know you being the kind hearted people you seem to be, you will understand that I can’t stay for more pleasant chatting. Have a good day !” he says with a wave and one last parting smile, before he turns around, only to find Sarawat looking at him in shock not even a few steps behind him, surely having heard his entire speech.

“Look Sarawat, I didn’t want to make a scene and state things for the both of us, but they were…” he starts to explain as he can hear the three people behind him get up to leave. 

Before he has the time to finish his sentence though, Sarawat has made his way up the few steps that were still separating them and he cradles his face to pull him in a deep kiss.

Tine pulls back a minute later, realizing that this isn’t really something they should be doing here, and thinking he should give his heart some time to recover and stop beating so fast before their concert starts. 

He looks into Sarawat’s eyes, and he finds the other man looking at him with a huge smile, eyes shining with love and pride radiating from his entire being. 

“So you get it now ?” he asks softly, still cradling Tine’s face in both of his hands. “You get that you’re perfect for me just the way you are ?”

Tine’s breath gets taken away by the words, and he doesn’t try to stop his urge to pull his boyfriend closer to himself and hug him tight, his face falling perfectly in his neck while one of Sarawat’s hands finds its way to his hair and starts to caress there.

“Yeah, I think I’m starting to get that,” he ends up saying softly in Sarawat’s neck, and he feels the other boy hug him even closer to his body.

He’s not naïve enough to think that this is the end of his insecurities and that he won’t have moments where he ends up feeling awful again. Right now though, in Sarawat’s arms ? 

Right now, all he can think about is that he’s pretty damn lucky to be Tine Teepakorn, and he wouldn’t change anything even if he could.

[hangukincharms]

Drawn to You

Word Count: 5147 Genre: Fluff, Fan x Idol Interaction Summary: You are an art student drafting a portrait of Wonho at a well-known café. Cross-Posted: AO3 as xKrypton_Bliss

E V E N I N G // A Seoul Café Sitting in a well-known café, you scroll through photos of Wonho on your phone to study his facial expressions and his exact anatomy. Your foot shakes idly now as you have gone past the blushing-in-embarrassment phase to more focused on seeing how the jawline is shaped, the turn of the tip of his nose, where his cheekbones land, and the subtle upturned corners of his mouth. With a nicely weighted and balanced mechanical pencil in hand, you begin to lay down the basic foundations for the three-quarter angle of his head, hoping to capture his essence truly. You have come so far now as an art student, and this was your last art project for university right before you graduate. You have already been taking commissions here and there, but only so few due to your overwhelming schedule with balancing your part-time job, school, and some sort of semblance of this thing called social life. After some time had passed, you managed to get a base sketch down along with some shading and details. It is still a little rough, but it has gotten more refined. A stroke of a loose hair here, maybe a shade there. No, it does not look right. You erase with a bit of frustration. You do not realize that the café has emptied quite a bit and it is darkening a little outside. "Your drawing is wonderful." A woman's voice startled you out of concentration. You snap your head up and see a short older woman carrying a tray with used plates and cups. She smiles sweetly, which seemed a bit familiar in some way to you. "Oh, uh, thank you!" you stammered, feeling embarrassed someone has actually seen your drawing before it was done, and it was a K-pop idol no less. Your cheeks heat up. "It's still far from being done…" You tuck your hair behind your ear out of nerves and pick up your hot chocolate to sip on. "I think it's wonderful," she repeated. "You did a great job capturing my son's personality." You choke on your drink and cough. "Y-your…" "Yes," she smiles proudly, her eyes becoming crescents. "Hoseoki is my son." Your eyes widen in disbelief. That embarrassment that finally ebbed away came back in full force. Now you have to figure out how to explain why out of all people, you decided to draw her son for the final project. You need to figure out why you could have not chosen someone else for this project. Anyone else at all! She sets the tray down on the table next to you. You look around and see maybe one or two people left in the café. You really did not realize how late it was. She sits down across from you. "What made you decide to draw him, dear?" she asks softly. "What do you like about him?" That was a question you dreaded to hear followed by another question you really did not expect. You take a deep breath and explain that the drawing was for a school project that focused on portraits but with a twist of concepts and imaginations. You told her idea of a light and dark concept. Everything has to be hand done and colored for it to be accepted. Right now, you are just going through the first stages of rough drafts. "That sounds very interesting!" she says with intrigue. "But — " she smiles again and leans in a little closer to you. " — you haven't told me why you like him." You were hoping you explained in detail too much so she would forget that question. Your cheeks feel warm as you bring the sketchbook close to you. "Uh, I-I — " A phone rings. Not your ringtone though. She looks down at her apron and finds her smartphone and picks up. "I am so sorry, excuse me — hello?" You breathe a sigh of relief. Many thoughts race through your mind. I just met Wonho's mom. I thought her café closed. Is this even her café? Is she working at a different café? Why did I decide the one time I draw someone outside my apartment, it had to be related to someone who works here! You shake your head back into reality so you did not want to take any more precious time away from his mother who has so kindly sat down with you and chat, which you totally did not expect. "Okay, I will see you soon." She hangs up and puts the phone back into the pocket of her apron. "He's on his way!" "Huh?" you hum in surprise. "I mean — Forgive me — I — who is on his way?" "My son. He is coming by to visit." Now is your chance for escape from even more embarrassment. "Ahh, okay, well…" you begin to collect your belongings. "I don't want to be rude while you wait for your son to arrive — " "Oh, please! Stay! I insist!" She gives you a look that only Asian mothers do that I wish I could describe. "You won't be bothering us if that is what you're afraid of. I'm always happy to meet any Monbebe and he is too." Your eyes widen by each word landing in your ear. "A-a-are you sure?" "Yes! Now sit down!" she politely urges. You did not realize you had gotten up from your seat in your rush to leave. You feel so rude to deny her, so you obey and bow to her in apology. Since you know she would not let up, you begin to explain the qualities of Wonho as you have seen him in variety shows and Vlive: charismatic, selfless, cute, cares very much about other people, making sure no one is left behind, in tune with his emotions… the list was endless. There was so much to list that it felt like you lost track of time. You really wanted to let his mother know how at least one fan of his feels about him so she could feel proud. For a little while now, you felt this strange sensation that you have been brushing off that someone was nearby you. Now that you have begun to run out of words, the feeling has become stronger. You cautiously eye to the side and slowly turn your head to see a plain grey sweater at your eye level. You look up hesitantly and see an all too familiar face of your bias, beaming down at you —the Wonho himself. Your heart beats painfully against your chest as your eyes widen. How long has he been there?! Did he hear everything I said? Do I sound crazy? Oh, God, I hope he didn't stand there for too long. Why did she not say anything? Such a sweet lady, she just smiled the whole time with light in her eyes. Ahhh, I should've listened to that gut a long time ago! "Hi," he greets sweetly. The upturned corners of his mouth have become much more prevalent with his smile while showing off his pearly whites. You draw in a shaky breath. Your hands begin to work on attempting at anything to hide your sketch from his eyes, albeit very clumsily. You fumbled with closing the sketchbook, flipping your phone over so the backside is shown — crap, it has his PC in it! You shove it under your arm. Feeling a shift in movement, you see Wonho move next to you and sits down between you and his mother, phone in hand to check the time and sets it down, watching you curiously with a hint of amusement. “Ah — h-how are you?” you stuttered, with your arm hastily crossed in front of you, resting your chin in your hand. “I’m doing fine,” he replies with a relieved sigh as he sweeps his hair back with his fingers. “I just got done with dance practice for our comeback.” He smiles again. “How are you doing? What's your name?” “I-I-I’m doing okay…” You say as you trail off, making sure to cover your face with your hair, looking down. "My name is Y/N…" "Nice to meet you, Y/Nssi," he beams. "I'm sure you already know who I am, but I am Wonho of Monsta X. I see you have already met my mom." He bows politely. "Yes, nice to meet you too." You return the bow meekly. You look back up at him to smile politely and notice the beads of sweat glistening along his forehead and the side of his face. A stark contrast against his black hair. You are surprised at how casual he was in front of you, a fan, for this. Does he not know he could kill you in an instant if you let him? (Nah, you were already dead before it started.) As you become lost in thought on how this is even reality right now, he and his mother chatted away, probably something about their days recently. You are trying not to be rude and listen into the conversation, but the unexpected starstruck really hit hard with you. Normally, if you are prepared to meet someone who is in some ways well-known or famous, you would not be a bumbling mess. Your own personality shines much more brilliantly and naturally. If this was a fansign, you would have ample time to calm down, even before the meet up — at least, that is what you would know from what you have seen on social media. You did not want to treat Wonho like he was on a pedestal or some kind of god. Geez, but this was far too soon and too unexpected! You come back to reality when you realize a hand was waving in your face. "Are you still there?" Wonho asks. "Hm?" Your eyebrows quirk. Oh, that is right. Wonho is still there in front of you. Wonho is still there in front of you! "Did you want to see my arms?" he asks with a chuckle. "You were staring really hard at them." "Eh?" You spaced out and did not know you were burning a hole through his arms. "A-ah, no! It's okay! I'm okay — " "Oh…" he slumps in his seat, eyes looking down. "So you don't want to see them…" He looks back up to you with puppy eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat as you have realized what you said. "N-no! I don't mean that! I mean, like, you don't have to show them to me. Only if you're comfortable." He laughs. "It's okay. I'm not offended. I knew what you meant." He winks playfully. "It's getting a little hot for me in here anyway, so do you mind if I take off my sweater?" Your nostrils involuntarily flare and your heart quickens. You shove that thought to the dirt. Now that he has been here for a while, you are trying every way to calm down and treat him like a normal human being. "No, I don't mind." He smiles and nods. You look away and out the window to the busy street as you hear the shuffling of fabric next to you, chin resting on your hand. You noticed it was just a little too quiet at the table despite his movement. "Where's your mom?" He chuckles. "You didn't hear?" He must have realized you were spacing out. "She went back to finish up cleaning and busting the tables." "Ah…" "So she was telling me how talented you are at drawing." "Oh…?" "And I kind of want to see it for myself." "Uhh…you sure? I'm not that good…" "Hey." "Yeah?" "Why won't you look at me?" You freeze. Do you dare mention that your face has been beet red and the mere thought of looking at him in the flesh with no sleeves is just going to kill you? "I'm embarrassed," you say, settling in that word alone. You feel him leaning closer to you. "Embarrassed?" You nod your head. "Whether your drawing looks good or not, I'll still love it all the same," he assures softly. "It's okay that you drew me." You close your eyes and sigh. Wanting to get this over with, you slowly turn your body back around and see him in a loosely fitted white tee with his sleeves partially rolled up. His arms are magnificently big, but in their relaxed state, it is not so bad; not as intimidating as you thought. He flashes his pearly whites at you, his eyes disappearing. "Ah… There's a face I want to see." You exhale out of your nose in half amusement and relief and give a wry smile. Sure, you are sitting in front of Wonho right now, but you are becoming more relaxed to his presence, arms and all. You slowly unveil your sketchbook and your phone peeks out, his PC in full glory. "Is that your favorite one of me?" he gestures to the PC. "Well," you begin, tilting your head to the side as you glance at it. "It's the only one I have of you out of all the albums I have." There is still a part of you that finds talking about all of this weird, especially talking about it to him, but you have to go along with it since he asked. "Oh, really? Did Minhyuk take over your photos?" he jokes. "Actually, that's what happened," you laugh. "Almost every album, it's him!" You relax just a little more. "I'll make sure to scold him for you." He winks. Gathering the courage, you shuffle out your sketchbook to be in front of you. "So, you wanted to see my drawings?" You glance up at him… in the eyes for those extra courage points. He nods. You shift the sketchbook over to him and flip through the pages, whether it was a work in progress or completed. You explain details of each concept drawn and what classes they were for. Sometimes, half of the drawings were for fun as you explained different styles and techniques to hone your personal art skill. You sometimes take a peek at him to see his expression and it seemed deep in concentration with some amounts of awe, indicating to you he was sincerely listening and genuinely interested. Your body loosens up even more. In between the flipping of pages, Wonho would ask questions about you, like how did you get into traditional art, what type of music do you listen to when you are working, how do you juggle between university and social, work, and home life. At one point, he even asked about your dating life. "I… don't really have much of one," you state flatly. "Oh, is that so?" His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Yeah, too frivolous. It makes me lose concentration on my work. I don't have as much time for it as other students do. It's quite a time investment. They won't understand why art is such a big passion of mine, so they'll just eventually leave me anyways." You look over to Wonho who seems to be baffled, yet sad. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt by this. I've accepted it." "Not a single soul would understand?" You chuckle. "Not even one." You flip the page. It lands on the partially finished portraiture of Wonho. You completely forgot about it and your body tensed up. You begin to slowly pull the sketchbook away from him. "Ahh, this isn't finished — " He stops you by holding onto the other side of the sketchbook, slowly pulling it back to him. "Oh, no, we're not gonna be shy here." You are still holding onto it, except it is slowly slipping from your fingers. You feel your grip shaking a little. Meanwhile, you look at Wonho, then down to his grip. Not a single struggle. Not wanting to tear your possession, you sigh. "Fine." You suddenly let go and the book jerked into his hand. You turn away again with your chin resting in your hand once more. He chuckles and you feel a gingerly pat on your head. You turn back to him in bewilderment, but he was already looking deep into your drawing. You turn your body slightly towards him to analyze his expression. Does he like it? Does he dislike it? Does he — "My mom was right. You really did capture me so well…" "I… I just, you know, uh…" You scratch the back of your head. "It's really well done. I am kind of jealous of this Wonho because he looks better than me!" You laugh. "What? No! You've always looked amazing, inside out, no matter what!" Whoops. That was too much, you thought. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, that was frank of me." You shrink into yourself out of embarrassment. "Hey, it's okay," he says gently. "I like hearing that from Monbebe, because, well, it gives me strength to keep doing what I'm doing." He pauses and lowers his eyes. "I'll admit, even if I look strong like this — " He tenses his muscles. " — I'm not always strong for myself when I need to be — are you okay?!" "Hm?" You look at him in confusion. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?" "Your nose is bleeding." "Oh, is it?" you say nonchalantly. You take a napkin nearby you and wipe the blood off as best as you can. You ball it up without looking. "Okay, so you were saying that we're your source of strength?" "Does this happen often?" he says, eyebrows furrowed. "Hm?" "The nosebleed." "Oh, no, rarely." He stiffens and reaches forward to console you, a look of worry etched into his face. "We need to take you to the hospital...!" "Oh, no, no, no, it's okay. I'm fine. Don't worry about it." You wave your hand dismissively. You know exactly why your nose was bleeding and it happened when he tensed his wonderfully sculpted muscles right before you. Seriously, how is he so casual about this? "How are you so casual about this?!" Wonho exclaims. "Shh, it's okay!" you whisper. You realize you are closer to him than normal, then noticed that your hand was covering his mouth. Your head tingles in panic as you try not to jerk your hand away, but slowly move it off of him as you blush. "I'm sorry." You look up at him in earnest. "But, please, do not worry about me. Tell me about how Monbebe is your source of strength." "Hoseoki!" You and Wonho both turn to the source of the voice. His mother looked primed and ready to leave with her tote bag hanging on her shoulder. He gets up and goes to her. "Is this bag too heavy for you?" he asks, checking the weight of the bag. "Silly boy, it's fine! Your mom may be old, but she is still strong." He comes back to the table and you were preparing to leave yourself as that seems to be your cue. Your sketchbook, pencils, erasers and sharpener are all back into their spots in your messenger bag. He picks up the sweater and puts it back on. "Hey, I'm sorry. I'll have to take my mom home now," he says. You might have heard a lace of sadness in his voice. "It's alright. It's no worries!" You smile. "You take care of her." "It was nice meeting you and getting to know you, Y/Nssi." "It was nice to meet you too, Wonhossi." A flash of sadness reflected in his eyes. Or did it? Both of you and his mother said your goodbyes and bowing as you all leave the café. You begin walking in the opposite direction from them, going back to the apartments that are close to the café but also the university too. You immediately reminisce on what just happened in the span of an hour, wondering if you had gone to this café more often and actually stayed longer, would you have met Wonho even sooner? You shake your head. It does not matter now. You were just happy to have met him once and that is that. Not to mention the feedback of the portraiture fueled your eagerness to finish the draft sooner, so you could make a real painting out of it. Especially now that you had a glimpse of him and his personality in the flesh, you could add that depth to your piece. //////////////////// 2  M O N T H S  L A T E R // University Arena

You had finished your graduation ceremony at the university and was walking out to find your friends and family in multiple places. You have been pulled by various friends to have photos together, posing for the cameras or taking selfies that were in abundance. It was very crowded due to having to graduate with 2,100 other graduates as well. You eventually find your family and closest friends and they showered you with bouquets, a beautiful flower crown, and balloons. They all hug you tightly with congratulations and love. Your father pats you on the head and smiles with pride. Your mother holds your hand, not wanting to let go of the child she had raised who has now graduated university. Another round of picture taking and selfies begin with those closest to you. "Y/N!" You crane your neck to look for the voice of whomever is calling you, but see no one. "Y/N!" This time, it is closer. You look around again, thinking the voice has given you misdirection. "Y/N." You turn around and see another male graduate you are familiar with, but more as a classmate. "Oh, hey, Yoojin! We've finally made it!" "Yeah, finally!" he exclaims. He clears his throat. "Listen, someone is here looking for you." "Who?" "I don't know, but you'll have to follow me." "Oma, I'll be right back," you call out to your mother. "Child, where are you going — " "I'll be right back!" Your mother huffs but has no choice but to let you go. "Okay, Yoojin, let's go." "Take my wrist so we don't get lost." You oblige. Both of you are bumping into everyone everywhere you go and it does not get any easier when you run into people who were in the same department as you and wanted pictures. The same goes for him as he was in the science department. As both of you push by, the crowd becomes less and less dense, leaving a few people scattered by the edges. Most of them are families with professional photographers. By this time, you were able to let go of Yoojin's wrist and walk normally. "I am so sorry I had to drag you out of there," he pants. "But apparently, this person is really eager to see you." "If they were so eager, I'm surprised they didn't fight the crowd," you chuckle. You follow him until the pavement meets the grass. There was a walkway that was heading up to one of the gazebos around the front. "He's waiting for you there." "You're not coming with me?" you ask, surprised. "What if I get kidnapped?" "I'm… sure he's harmless, but just in case, I'll wait here." A thud was felt in your chest. You look to the structure. You cannot really see anyone, but if you squint hard enough, you might make out a silhouette. However, the gazebo's intricate design makes it difficult to see. You begin walking as Yoojin looks on after you. The crowd's noise becomes fainter with every step. The only things you hear now are the birds chirping and the clacking of your heels. As you get closer to the gazebo, you become more hyper-aware of your own heartbeat. You slow to a stop just about 10 steps shy away from the entrance. You take deep breaths to calm your nerves as you play with the academic stole around your neck. You can do this. Just get it over with , you thought. If something bad happens, Yoojin is there. You look back and sure enough, he is still watching you. Gathering your strength, you brusquely walk on and into the entrance. You look around and find someone sitting on the left side of you all in black with a beautiful and abundant bouquet seemingly slipping slowly out of his hand. His head hangs low and his black cap prevents you from seeing his face. Is he… sleeping? You hesitate to step any closer to him. "H-hello?" you call out gingerly. "Are you okay…?" You see the bouquet slipping out of the last finger and you lunge forward to catch it — just in time. In turn, you feel a hand gracing over yours. You snap your head up and slowly, he reveals his face to you. He grins. "Hi." You gasp loudly, making sure the next step was not a scream because that would alert Yoojin. "Wo… Wonho...!" You set the bouquet down on the bench carefully and step back, hands covering your gaping mouth. He pushes himself out of the seat and straightens up. Your eyes cannot stop following him. He takes off his cap as you take on what he was wearing: a tie, dress shirt and skinny fit dress pants complete with a black leather jacket that happens to have a dark red lining on the inside. There also seems to be a subdued color on his dress socks too, matching the inside of his jacket. One thing was different about him. His hair is blond this time, styled like that of Beautiful era. He picks up the bouquet and presents them to you. "Congratulations, Y/N," he says softly. You stare at the flowers as he hands them off to you. You close your eyes and inhale their aroma. "It's so… beautiful," you say breathlessly, looking back up at him. "Why… how come you're here?" "Ah…" He puts his hands in his pants pockets and looks around. "After that night, I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave you. I really wasn't sure about anything. But there was one thing I was really sure about: it's that I like you." Your eyes widen. Are your ears deceiving you? You shake your head. "I'm sorry, you — ?" "I do like you, Y/N," Wonho states. "If — " He lowers his gaze to the ground. "If you're okay with that." Silence falls on the both of you. You have become speechless, awestruck even. This was someone who was your bias for so long, and to stand here, in front of you, admitting to you that he, an idol, likes you… you pinch yourself. You look at him and see he is chewing on his lips nervously. He must have been thinking about this. "I…" you begin. His eyes snap to yours in earnest, eager to listen to anything you have to say. "I am a fan," you declare. "You… are an idol. Is this going to be okay?" "If they have anything to say… I will shut them down. I have done so before. I won't hesitate again." His eyes flashed ice cold for just a split second before returning to the warmth it held. You look between his eyes in bewilderment. He seems very sure of this. He does not seem swayed by any future problems it might hold. He steps closer to you and begins playing with your softly curled hair. He smiles warmly. "So, now that you have more time, and I hope it still isn't so frivolous to you," he begins. "Will you go out with me?" ////////////////////

W O N H O ' S  P E R S P E C T I V E // Leaving the Café

(Disclaimer: this will have the majority traditional Asian perspective, so if something seems off or weird to you, this is a very typical thing, as it is with me and almost all of my Asian friends' traditional parents. Please do not take offense.) As he and his mother walk away from the café, Wonho turns his head around to see her, only to find she is no longer there. He sighs with some amount of regret that he had no way of contact with you at all. "Hoseoki, it looks like you were having a lot of fun with that girl," his mother comments. "I have fun with any and all Monbebe, Oma." "Yes, but not as much fun as with her." He shrugs lightly. "My son, your mom may have bad eyesight, but she can see how much you like her," she says in a serious tone, eyeing her boy. "You know you won't be an idol forever, so sooner or later, you will have to settle down, get married with a good wife, and maybe have some grandchildren for me." "Oma!" Wonho's eyes widened in shock. "This is too much too soon!" His mother laughs heartily. "But make sure she is a right fit for you too. Oma doesn't want you to rush either. Oma only wants you to be happy." She pauses. "She seems like a very lovely girl, who is passionate and isn't afraid to pursue what she wants. She is in some ways like you, but has her own charms." "H-how do you know all this?" he asks. "It's only for an hour and it seems you know more than I do." "Oma always knows more." She smiles as she rubs her son's back. "Try to reach out to her again." He sighs in defeat. He realizes she is right. He does like her passion and the dedication she has to her craft, which he can relate to when it comes to his music and fashion. Nothing can hold their creativity back and that gave him a spark. To him, she is grounded in her goals and aspirations, just as he was. He wants to know more about her. He hopes he can. //////////////////// Throughout the rest of the month, Wonho came by the café more often than not to see if she was there in the evening, working away on her project. Unfortunately, to his dismay, anytime he was there, she was nowhere to be found. He tried to appear sometimes in the morning or afternoon as long as his schedule allows, but she was not there either.

His hopelessness grew, and his regret and guilt became stronger as he fell into his bed in the Monsta X's dorm. In the moment of his last drop of desperation, it hit him. He remembers that the portrait of him was her final project. Finalproject. Her graduation project. He shoots up out of bed to find his phone on the charger. He looks up the university website near the café and scrolls through to find the graduation date. He checks it against his schedule to see if he is able to attend. He grins.

[theosymphany]

The Canary

A short fic as Chris and Piers discusses more mundane matters as Piers settles in his team. One shot. Early days Nivanfield.

It was 1358. The new lieutenant to Alpha team had planned it to the minute. He had his lunch early, went over the notes he had made, reviewed the things he had on file and mentally went through every last conversation he’s had with the team and of course, his Captain. He checked over himself at the mirror too. Captain is relaxed on grooming standards, but his first lesson from meeting Chris was ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’

He took the longer route to the Captain’s office, not out of habit, but because there’s less chance he’ll be interrupted or run into someone. He wanted to be on time, and have his thoughts where he needed them.

He set off on a purposeful, brisk pace, folder of reports in hand, taking long, measured strides that pass off as confident and looking busy and important enough. Hazel eyes scanned around the perimeters for any unplanned incursions, but he knows deep down he needn’t worry. Staying hidden is his specialty he had mastered, in plain sight, if needed. That said though, he hadn’t been fully able to dodge the spotlight since his time at the BSAA. Being second to the legendary Chris Redfield, afterall, is a high profile role, and the Captain himself isn’t quite a man of subtlety.

He knew as he arrived that the clock had just ticked over to 1400. Captain’s door would usually be open, but he would give four unhurried but confident taps should it be closed. Has he got anything? Should he have brought a treat? Food can be an icebreaker, though the Captain must have a pretty strict diet regime to maintain his bulk…

Focus Piers. He told himself as he banished all irrelevant thoughts.

He could see now that the door was open, letting some rays of the afternoon sun into the otherwise slightly gloomy office. The captain sat at his desk, clawing his mouse, his thick brows furrowed just a little to bring out a few creases. This could be bad.

“Capt-“

“Ah Piers.” Relief fell off the Captain’s face, the five o’clock shadow that usually forms by lunchtime had made him look slightly broody, but the smile was genuine. “Come. Pull up a chair.” He cocked his head to the guest chair beside him.

Piers nodded lightly. All his others commanders usually sat him across the table where they’d have feet up and arms back, as if to silently scream how important they are. Their desks though, usually afforded such luxuries, and the space for it.

Captain Chris Redfield’s desk would be, as his mother would call it, ‘a perennially rueful mess’ bereft of military rigour, but Piers had learnt by day two on base that Captain Redfield sets the rules. Or rather, breaks them at convenience for himself. Piers may never have to worry about an inspection, but also means he’s in that uncomfortable position managing what the enlisted men would consider ‘double standards’.

Regardless, he sat, back straight and attentive, being more than a little pleased that he’s so close to the Captain he could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“It’s our catch up isn’t it. Sorry, I didn’t prepare anything. Uh, did you send- no you must have, I know you would, sorry I didn’t read it, I just…”

Piers nodded and shrugged. Yes, he’d written a short one-page update just in case and emailed through but yet again Chris hasn’t read it, but that’s OK because he’d practiced the verbal brief anyway and knew he preferred that.

“Did you want the two-minute version?”

“Yep, go on- uh wait, oh, that’s right, I was looking at this when you came in. Can I get your thoughts on this first?”

Chris pulled up the email. As he did Piers glanced at the (8709) unread tag and flinched, but told himself to focus.

It was one of those reports, cc’ed for comment by all the team leaders. There must be thousands of those going around.

“Hmm. May I skim the report?” Piers asked.

Chris alt-tabbed and Piers glanced at the page count. Less than fifty. He let out the breath he held in. Trying not to lean in too close to Chris, he scrolled through with the keyboard, looked at the summary and the body, and then the conclusion.

“I think it’s bad, but not quite sure how bad.” Chris said, scratching his head.

“This got drafted by some ivory tower academic who never had a semblance of normal life.”

“How did it get that far then, command can’t actually be that serious about this shit?”

“Well you see when you brand yourself a ‘consultant’, whatever BS they sprout will suddenly became great gems of transformative wisdom that’s it a crime against the state to realise such theoretical gains and crafted rhetoric into action. The good thing is, however, at least it doesn’t read like there’s someone’s self interests in the way…”

“You got a plan of attack?”

“Whatever you do don’t let it be a recommendation. I’m sure every commander out there is fuming about this stuff. I’ll work up some comments on the template in uh, your style and let you review them, but you should go chew the fat with others and draw out their views, and put in a coordinate effort.”

“Mmmh, I like that approach. I can chat to Crosby and K-face. It’s the same crap that keeps going round.”

“So, that brief of yours. Anything important? Do you need me to get money again?”

“No. Nothing of the sort. We could use all kinds of upgrades, but we can’t ask for them willy-nilly, it must be thought out, strategic, have the whole cost, risk benefit balance neatly summed up—”

Chris threw his hands up in defence. “OK, OK, I’m just asking. You work out the details and brief me on what to tell our accounts man. How’s the team?”

“Overall we’re going to be fine. Our teams are much smaller than we used to manage, I’m still getting to know them of course, but they’re willing, have a good attitude and there’s a lot we can cover.”

“I mean, they’re no special forces but miles above army grunts fresh from boot. They’re here because they want to be, and that counts more than anyone realises.”

“Just what I wanted to hear. And how are you?”

“Me? Oh, uh. I’m doing alright. I guess.”

Piers was caught off guard. He’d prepared the brief about everything Chris could ask him about and left out himself. He never thought about himself. As in what Chris would want him to say about himself. Is it like a job interview? Does he stay professional or let out snippets of truth and emotion? No. He never thought about the fact that Chris would ask him about himself. This is the military. No one is your care bear. They want you to get the job done and not cause any problems. Don’t be smart and don’t be stupid. Conform.

“Well you’re doing a damn fine job.” Chris said, clapping a big hand to Piers’ shoulder. “Knew I’d pick the right man.” He grinned a somewhat boyish grin and gave the shoulder a squeeze.

Pier grinned to himself. Chris was a touchy man and he’d be damned if he ever forgot a moment where they connected physically.

“Oh. Another thing.” The squeeze turned to a slap on his shoulder. “What is this writing comments in ‘my style’ that you spoke of?”

Piers blinked. Oops.

“Uh, have you ever hear of ghost writers, Captain?”

“Uh, like the movie with the team with gear battling paranormal lifeforms?” Chris said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Sounds a bit like us, really.”

“Almost, except they fight with words. A ghost writer is like someone who writes for someone else. Like a speech writer, official emails and all.”

Piers feels nervous as Chris stroked his 5’o clock shadow and appraised him intently with his warm brown eyes. He thought about the 8000 unread emails and swallowed.

“Uh, I’m kinda terrible at it, but given the timeframes of the response I might just jot some notes and you can review them so it sounds like it comes from a seasoned… captain and not some fresh-faced rookie from West Point?”

“Seasoned huh?” Chris chuckled. “Medium with a hint of garlic, salt and pepper.”

Piers licked his lips.

“Well, I’ll leave it to you. Forget the style. The key thing is to shoot this thing down before it ever gets off the ground.”

“Yes Sir!” Piers was already plotting in his head. He still needs to write like Chris would, but not as Chris would, but how command would want Chris to, striking that fine balance between authority, reason and a hint of the non-conformant leanings the Captain is known for.

“I know who I picked. You’re not a spring chicken Nivans, even if you look like you belong on a recruitment poster. I see a bright future in you, ghostbusting or zombie busting or writing or whatever else. You’ve got a good package. Of skills and, uh that word…. Aptitude, attitude? Those things. Keep it up.”

“I will, Captain. Thank you, Captain.”

“I’ll send you the docs, no hurry, but if you get it in before 1700 I know there’s a steakhouse you might like.”

Piers raised his eyebrows. Chris is more than his match.

“Right away sir.”

Chris’s eyes followed Piers out of his office, with the golden rays of the sun on his back. He sighed in relief, pressing send on the email. He looked at the other 8000 unread emails, and the pile of reports awaiting read through, and he grinned like a cat who ate the canary.

[megaminds-destiny]

We know that Megamind never felt like he had control over who he was or how he was going to be seen.

Roxanne on the other hand has always had a say over who she was and what she did in her life. Even in the times that she was kidnapped, she was always able to rise above petty emotions such as fear, or feeling helpless- no that was never an issue even as she was held captive. She has a will of iron, and the confidence to match! So why can’t Megamind? He can make a show and act all confident and puff himself up at times, but when it comes down to the real things that happen to him in life, he just seems to completely deflate, as if all that confidence and self esteem was nothing more than hot air. She doesn’t understand why he can’t just own up to his actions, admit what he has done and decide- completely for himself- who he wants to be instead. There’s nothing to it honestly. He’s being such a worry wuss over the whole thing, there’s no such thing as destiny. You make your choices based on what you think is what is best for yourself (keep others in mind too) and that is CLEARLY what he was doing as a villain (excluding the part about caring about other people too.) why else would he become a supervillain? Take over the city? Trick her into dating him without giving her an insight for judgement- like?? He must have got something out of it, and yet he keeps on acting as if he was actually the victim. As if he ‘never wanted to be a villain’ or something like that. He could say the same thing that he ‘never wanted to trick her’, and in fact, Roxanne can recall him saying things like that in the past. If he really didn’t want to trick her, then he shouldn’t have freaking gone and tricked her. It was so simple, and yet he has such a habit of over complicating things. Sometimes the world can try to influence you, but in the end, you are always in control of your own decisions. The tricky part to that was explaining it.

Sure, Megamind admires Roxanne and her confidence, but he would be damned if he knew how she got it. Maybe just because she is amazing and beautiful and smart, which let’s be honest, he could never be one of those things. If we begin with beautiful (or in this case handsome) there’s really no question about it. He’s an alien. Skinny as a stick, he doesn’t so much as match another person on this entire planet! His skin complexion- blue. The literal exact opposite to every other persons skin tone. Even the difference between the palest of the pale and the darkest of the dark skin tones in the human race were only different shades of the same colour. His couldn’t be further from the picture. His head, big and bulbous on the top, tapering so dramatically into a thin pointy jawline, there’s nothing about him that didn’t stand out, get pointed at, made fun of, stared at relentlessly! He can claim the title of handsome all he ever wants, but in reality, people only had to briefly cast a glance his way to become just how aware that it was otherwise.

Smart... it was complicated. Sure, he knew he was intelligent. It seemed that his race had a particularly high IQ, but with this high intellectual intelligence consuming majority of his learning capacity, he was able to become quite aware that he had next to no emotional or social intelligence. At times even plain old practical intelligence, or ‘common sense’ went flying out the window to make room for some of his inventions! No, Roxanne was in truth, the really intelligent one. She was able to decipher most of his plans before they had even been carried out. She could read him like a book, and react in ways he never imagined and render him baffled (and the next thing he knew, he was on the floor at the hands of Metro Man himself, having been so distracted by her it had cost him his entire game) No, his intelligence wasn’t even in competition with others truly, albeit his defining trait. What really was good about him? Or even bad about him? It was almost as if he was... somehow neither. Was he the Yin, or the Yang of this story..? With real experience on both, it was hard to decide. Mostly, he wanted to do what was expected of him. There’s really not much else. As a kid of course, he TRIED to go his own way, and the pushback was so severe it had left him bleeding away. All this time, he thought he was doing the right thing by the people by filling this role. Of course, he was aware that what he was doing was bad, but somebody had to do it right? That was what they had all told him. In fact, he read up on the Yin and Yang. A lot of features regarding the concept all pointed toward one rule- for there to be good, there must also be evil, and that is how the universe is balanced out. That was right. That was exactly what he’d been told. He never HEARD what his parents were wanting to say to him. They placed a destiny upon him that he never even got to know! He was left to his devices to figure it out for himself. And he fought so hard for the destiny he made up in his brain that he wanted! He wanted to do good things, and be loved or appreciated by some people, not excessively, just maybe not so much hated, and somehow it hadn’t worked out. He was a kid. He thought... he didn’t realise that it wasn’t up to him at that time. He hadn’t realised for so long, that his destiny was already chosen, and he was fighting it for so long- no wonder he had been miserable! That’s what you get, for fighting your fate. Pain, and suffering, and hatred, and misery. Bruises, cuts, blood and fractures, be pushed and shoved and yelled at and called names and made fun of and deprived and God it had been so awful, there’s still fear.

There is no way he is making that mistake again. If the city.... if they change their mind... with the hero being gone he supposes... now that there’s no good, he can finally change. Because they told him to. Because fate lead him there.

Fate.

‘The path we choose for ourselves’

That was crap and he knew it. There had been a couple of things that happened, he felt that maybe from here on, as the good guy he had the choice. Like Metro Man, but Roxanne was not at all impressed by Metro Man’s choice. As if the man had single handedly upset the universal balance, and by the looks of things he really had. There has never been more crime and destruction in this city than there is now. Megamind didn’t have a choice actually. Metro Man had for a lack of better words- f**ked up. And now, it had messed up Megamind’s position in the world (in a way that he had always dreamed about, but still) and it had directly caused a massive rise in evil in the common people, that wasn’t there before.

If he had ever needed any more proof that this Yin and Yang was truly the way of things, and that he had a destiny assigned to him from the universe, this was certainly it for him. It really couldn’t be more clear than now. And you know what else?

He didn’t make a very good hero.

It was hard work to do this job... harder than he had expected. There were some very evil people around that he had initiated run ins with, and come out looking like the loser of the fight (though thankfully, he hadn’t actually lost one completely yet) and if seemed SO hard to just keep things running peaceful.

‘Perfect and Rosy’

He was definitely inadequate, but God how relieving it was to finally have some people be just a big kinder to him, and obviously not everyone, more so it was a bit like just some people had come around to understand his change of fate, and that’s correct, it definitely wasn’t a change of heart, a change of decision, a change of uncontrollable Destiny assigned to him and followed through obediently by him. And this was where Roxanne had stoped understanding and begin to question- well pretty much the lot of it. He had tried to explain these things, but she seemed insistent that all these things were up to him. Imagine what could actually happen in the world of Megamind just suddenly up and declared- “I’m going to be a painter instead!” or “I’m going to leave the city and milk cows for a living!” No. The universe had purposely shoved him into these positions. If anything, it had seemed like he hadn’t been obedient ENOUGH, and he had some sweet little and also more impressive sized scars to prove it. If he just went and chose something wrong, there would most certainly be a punishment. And if it wasn’t for him, it would be cast upon someone else. And he couldn’t risk something like that happening again. Never again.

———————

So this was just a sketch I had done- a kind of crappy sketch, I did it mostly because I haven’t done a drawing in ages- but despite that I had no idea what I was doing when I started, I was starting to get somewhere with it in my head by the time I ended, and so it turned into a snippet of an argument between Roxanne and Megamind. I can’t help but imagine them fighting like this a lot after the end of the movie. The reason being, that Megamind’s actual main problem in life really never got solved. He did nothing but what he was expected to ever since that day they finally broke him as a child, and never tried to become or ask for more ever again. During the movie, hope started to arise inside of him that maybe now, things could finally be different since the situation had changed. He never broke any rules or actively tried to change his position, his role or his life in any way, he simply took the opportunities as they came to him instead of rejecting them like a proper villain would do. It didn’t seem bad at first, but because of what he did, because he tried a second time to acquire normal person privileges- because he tried once more to reject his Destiny assigned role, he paid his absolute highest cost for it as a punishment, and lost all the people he had ever held dear. That would be the last time he tried to fight against this ‘Fate’ this ‘Destiny’ of his that was hell bent enough on making him he someone he had never wanted to be, in a situation that did nothing but hurt him in silent but consistent way, or else suffer the consequences- now in the end of the movie obviously Megamind makes a comment about rejecting the idea of Fate and Destiny controlling his life, but the problem is he only says that because he’s not a villain anymore. Because the situation changed. The city lost the hero, the universe lost its Yang. In this situation, Fate would have it that he step up and be the new Yang, now that there is also a new Yin. Destiny is still in control, he never got to choose anything that happened or anything that he did. He STILL is stuck under the universes rule, that he must take what cards he is dealt Or Else, terrible things. And just like before he is going to continue to live in fear, now instead of fear of not being the perfect villain, a top notch bad guy, or else he gets bullied, made fun of, pushed back and called names- now it’s that he needs to be just a different kind of perfect. A perfect hero, who wears only white and doesn’t own weapons or creepy spiders. A perfect hero who always arrives on time, always saves the victim in question, always stops the bad guy from getting away, never fails to prevent something terrible from happening because it’s his brand new, shiny white, full time, life consuming job! That he would have chosen, but wasn’t given the open ended question. He complied to being pushed into this- and so therefore no one realises how bad for him this really is, it’s something he wanted for sure- but he never gets to choose his life for himself. No one ever tells him that it was just plain old bullying and terrible people that hurt him, not a punishment from the Entity labbeled ‘Fate’. If he messes up, he actually SHOULD be forgiven, he should be allowed to make his own chooses, mess up and learn from it, try things he turned out not to like. He’s never had a sense of freedom in his life, and no one will just sit down for a second and explain to him that it’s wrong. He’s had his rights absolutely taken from him, and replaced with an artificial mindset, a man made set of rules that he is manipulated into thinking that he HAS to folllow (otherwise that’s where the punishment comes in) he doesn’t have the option to go around and question this, I’m just about 100% sure he’s never even thought of it and that’s because he’s convinced that this entire thing is truth. It’s not. It was a fabrication that people used to get what they wanted out of him. And it never got solved.

[leonkennedystuff]

not alone p.2 (leon kennedy x reader)

[RE4!Leon]

Summary: wherein reader finally confronts leon about ada wong

Warnings: angst, swearing, underage drinking, descriptions of mental illness, mentions of broken family (?)

Part 2 of 2

holy crap, you guys. This is probably the longest chapter I’ve ever written in my LIFE. I got so carried away making this oops I’m sorry but wah! I’m so happy it’s finally done! Hope you guys enjoy!

Weary (E/C) eyes staring blankly outside the window, the budding feeling of depression pays you another visit– like a viper, it coils around your scorned heart tighter and tighter, choking you. 

It’s been 6 days since that horrid fight with your longtime boyfriend, Leon Kennedy, and your insatiable sadness was the only friend you let in and comfort you. You knew you were coping with this unhealthily, you were aware you were setting yourself up for disaster, but you honestly could care less. You barely felt the discomforts anyway; you didn’t give no mind to how weak or hungry or tired or numb you felt all over. You just didn’t have the energy or the will. You felt, for a lack of better words, dead – and the last memory you had before you died was that fucking fight.

On that same night, you left your shared apartment; you packed a bag and practically had to force your way out because Leon kept trying to stop you, blocking the door, pleading with you to talk your problem through. Despite how vulnerable you were feeling though, you didn’t budge – refusing him his request, refusing to hear anything else about his standing with Ada Wong. 

Relentless attempts after relentless attempts, he figured his pleas were falling on deaf ears. He eventually lets you go. Watching you leave - it was like the biggest part of his heart left with you. He’s never felt so empty, and you weren’t doing so well either.

That was the last time you’ve seen or spoken with Leon; his messages on your phone, the calls you were rejecting - they continued to grow almost hourly, but you had no plan on answering them. Not now, at least. You needed to heal; reading his words or hearing his voice, your emotions would overshadow your logic. You knew you’d succumb to how much you missed him and you had to be stronger than that.

Currently (and for the past 6 days), you’ve been squatting at your best friend’s apartment. Claire Redfield has been your constant person ever since you were children; your family and the Redfields have been long-time friends and you got along with her just like your parents did. You’ve never trusted anyone the same way you did her, at least not until Leon entered your life almost a decade after.

When you met Leon, you were 19 and had just moved into a new city to pursue your degree in Nursing. You were no philanthropist but you always wanted a career that revolved around helping others, it was a striking similarity you and him shared. 

One night long ago, you were invited by some classmates to go drinking in a bar, a bar that was a favorite among students because they didn’t check ID – and that was when you saw him for the first time. 

You almost smile at the fond memory.

He was with a bunch of loud, intoxicated and rowdy cadets from the police academy not so far from your school, he stuck out like a sore thumb because of how awkward he looked with them. Definitely, the comradery with him and everyone in that group was evident but he just seemed so out-of-place as the other guys hustled around, trapping him in the middle of their wild antics. Although you thought it was funny, you also remember feeling bad for him.

It was around 2 in the morning when you decided you really had enough drinks and were going to call it a night. 

Despite the protests of your friends, you bid them a woozy goodbye and started heading out of the still cramp, neon-signed local bar. You barely made it a foot out the door when your drunk body doubled over, the urge to puke out the excess alcohol making your already dizzy head spin more. This wasn’t your first time drinking, absolutely not, but this was the first time you drank more than you could handle. 

Did you regret it? Even with the throbbing hangover you had the next day - no, you don’t, because if it weren’t for you getting so shit-faced, you don’t think you would have had the interaction you did with Leon.

“Someone really enjoyed their night,” A pleasant voice resonates from behind, teasing you. Too out of it to check the face it belonged to, you remain as you are – your knees on the rough pavement while your head hovered over a bush. “That makes one of us,” He notes, his mild amusement and his voice drawing closer as he walks to where you were.

“Do you need help?” He asks, his badinage tone now mixed with a hint of genuine concern. When you feel him settle beside you, bending a knee so he was at your level and so that he can take a better look at how wasted you were, you finally turn just enough to see who this enigmatic joker was.

For a second, you felt like you sobered up at the mere sight of him. Initially, from his attire – a plain white shirt clouded by a navy-blue windbreaker and fitted black pants- you recognized him as the awkward dude from the big crowd, but your attention shifts from that after your gaze falls on his face.

My God – you wondered just how drunk you were to have your beer goggles be this misleading. There was no way, you thought, that anyone could look this heavenly.

A dirty-blonde guy with fringes framing his fresh face looked to be the same age as you; he had a small smile on his plump pink lips. He was saying something, his mouth was moving, but it’s like you’ve suddenly turned deaf. You were so fixated on his looks.

You note how structured his features are, like a sculpture, his jaw was ample and strong and contrasted well with the fullness of his rosy cheeks. He had beauty marks decorating his clear skin, two on his neck and one small one beside his celestial nose. The real star, though, were his eyes. They were bluer than blue, like sapphires and moonstones.

Who the hell was this dude?

“So, are you going to tell me or should I just guess?” He cocks a dark eyebrow, his playful demeanor returning. Snapping out of your trance, you just blink at him, confused.

Oh right, he was talking.

“What?” You manage to find your voice but hate how raspy it sounded even to your own ears. He chuckles, looking down. His long eyelashes flutter as he subconsciously checks your body for any wounds or bruises you may have gotten in your buzzed state.

“I was asking for your name,” He repeats himself, clearly finding the cute but besotted girl humorous.

Your own cheeky personality coming out, you give him a curious squint. “What’s it to you?” You question, “I happen to be very familiar with the saying–“ You lean forward a bit to be dramatic but stagger a little. As if on instinct, the blonde holds you by the shoulders. It was almost impossible to ignore the flurry of sensation building under your skin where his hands were. “-‘stranger danger’,” You finish off with air-quotations, keeping your cool.

The guy laughs again, the luxuriance of it making your own mouth curl upwards in a smile.

“Maybe you’ll feel better knowing I’m training to be a cop?” He offers, riding along with your banter. You shake your head, “No, I’ve heard stories of serial killer police men. All charming and dutiful and handsome – you could definitely be in the list and I’m not risking it,”

With that, Leon’s face lights up with a surprised expression. You also note how his confident demeanor suddenly shifted into a coy one. You nearly raise your eyebrows in question but realize soon after why. 

Damn your drunk tendencies!

Now amply embarrassed, you open your mouth to apologize but were cut off with his bona fide smile. “You’ll just have to trust that I’m going to be one of the good ones,” He says, his voice softer but seemingly warmer. “I’m Leon Kennedy,” He introduces himself, earnestly outstretching a hand for you to shake. You take it, a blush undoubtedly heating up your face.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” You respond.

That night, Leon walked you back to your dormitory and the rest became history. It didn’t take long for you both to develop the feelings sparked by the night you met – it was only a matter of a few months until he finally confessed the obvious affection you had for one another. You both agreed, though, to remain as friends until you both graduated.

Your ‘remain as friends’ phase lasted almost 2 years, but you didn’t mind because you were so in love with him and he, you. You’ve never been happier. When you graduated from college and him from police academy, he wasted no time asking you to be together. 

You couldn’t wait to finally tell Claire all about it; you’ve updated her that there was someone you were seeing but left it at that until you and Leon were official. You planned to meet with Claire the day after Leon left for Raccoon City, also the day that she’d be coming back from the same place to check up on her older brother, Chris.

Of course, everyone knew about the tragic events that lead to the death of hundreds and thousands of people in Raccoon. When the outbreak first spread, you heard about it in the television and nearly fainted in the hospital you were working as a trainee nurse. You thought you could die right then and there – your body and your heart unable to cope with the distress plaguing your head. For nights on end, you couldn’t sleep and, the rare times you were able to, it was due to fatigue from crying so much. 

You couldn’t fathom the thought of either Leon or Claire in danger, hurt, or worse.

When you received the most gratifying news though that they both made it out alive and clear from the horrific infection, you felt lucid. You don’t remember crying as hard as you did that day. When you found out that Claire and Leon actually ran into each other during the outbreak, you started to bawl again. They took up the deepest crevices of your heart.

You scoff softly at that.

Look how that now turned out in your favor. Half of it was broken beyond repair.

Suddenly, for the nth time this night, your phone blares in the dreary guest room you occupied, disrupting the welcomed silence. Your reverie broken, you sit up sluggishly on the bed too big for one person, your gaze indolently shifting to the vibrating device beside you. You didn’t need to think twice or wonder who it could be; your heart was already clenching knowing it was him.

With the heaviest feeling settled in your chest, you bring yourself to push your phone away, to push Leon away. To think nearly six years of your life was spent being with someone who might not have been entirely set on you after all…

You lay back down on the soft, silky sheets and close your exhausted eyes until the only noise left was your wounded sobbing. Inconsolable, dismal, helpless.

Alone with your wayward thoughts, another painful feeling creeps up your chest – although he was a persistent and tenacious man, you were sure he’ll eventually tire from reaching out just to have you ignore him. How long will it take until he finally gives up? How long will it take until he’s moved on from you? Will he be with Ada?

Too lost in your own sorrow, you almost didn’t hear the soft knocks resonating from the other side of the door. “(Y/N)?”

Startled, you bring your pounding head up. For a moment, you weren’t sure whether you imagined the sound. “Yeah?” You croak, your voice scratchy and barely there. You’ve misused yourself for the past few days and it was beginning to show.

“It’s me,” Claire leans her cheek on the door, pressing an ear to the wood. “Can I come in?”

You prop yourself upright a second time and a sudden wave of vertigo hits you. You lean back on the headboard, your vision dancing with stars. You wait until the dizzy feeling passes before you reply. “Of course,” You say, finding it a bit ridiculous that she had to ask permission in her own place.

Not a moment after your thumbs-up, the door creaks open and a crack of light from the hallway floods the room, illuminating your friend’s sympathetic face. “How are you holding up?” She checks on you, entering the room fully. You see she brought a glass of water and a cookie on a plate.

You smile, genuinely touched by the sweet gesture. Claire makes her way to you and settles down on the bed; she brings her feet up so she can sit with her legs crossed. The mattress rocks slightly as she shifts to a more comfortable position, turning the bedside lamp on. You wince at the orange light.

She hands you the glass of water, which you gratefully take from her hold and sip from, and places the huge chocolate chip cookie towards your body. She looks almost expectant but you pretend not to notice; you really couldn’t bring yourself to eat. 

Claire knew what was up though and, thankfully, she didn’t try to push it. It was always something you appreciated about her – she wasn’t overbearing, she didn’t try to impose or force anything. She just gives her 2 cents and leaves it to your better judgement; you respected that a lot.

“Still the same, unfortunately,” You crack a halfhearted chuckle, trying to sound better than you really felt. You look down and away from the sad look in Claire’s eyes, obviously seeing past the fabricated act. Wanting not to dwell in her scrutiny, you reach for the still warm cookie and break off a small chunk, bringing it to your mouth. It tasted heavenly – her food always did, but you couldn’t enjoy it.

“It’s good,” You comment with a nod, your eyes still anywhere but on the brunette girl in front of you. Of course, you were trying to evade the conversation that dealt with talking about how you were feeling.

You open your mouth, to apologize for being so detached, but her hand suddenly on your thigh catches you off-guard. You look at her to see her smiling. “How about we take a walk? Maybe visit the ice cream shop right before the curb? I’ve been wanting to check the place out,” She suggests with a thoughtful cock of her head, her dark brown hair swaying with her movements. 

She leans in a bit, her knowing expression deepening as she gives your leg a pat. “And it’ll do you some good to get some fresh air.”

Claire had a point, you acknowledged. Although you didn’t want to, going outside would probably help distract from your stuffy thoughts, especially considering that you’ve been camped in this apartment almost the entire time you were here. You note that Claire probably blew her plans off just to accommodate you. This is the least you can grant her.

“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.” You crack a smile, shifting your weight so you could swing your legs off the bed. Claire, who looked a little surprised from your answer, blinks before a big grin appears on her face. She gets up as well, “Alright! Just let me get changed,” She says, gesturing to her olive-green baseball tee and black sweatpants. 

You chuckle, nodding.

When the door closes behind her, you swap your pajamas as well for some leggings and a grey hoodie two sizes too big on your frame. Your hand moves its way to feel the letters of the police academy Leon attended bolded in the center; you didn’t realize you’ve packed it but now it’s the only thing you wanted to wear.

You let yourself. Considering you didn’t allow to talk or reach out to him, this will help you cope.

You sigh. You just couldn’t believe how complicated it’s gotten.

After taming your (H/C) hair into a ponytail and trudging out of your room, you enter the living space and the first thing that caught your eye was a small white envelope in front of the main door. It was most probably slipped in through the crack.

You walk towards it, your heartbeat picking up speed for a reason unknown to you. Crouching down to get a better look, you take it in your hands. It was plain until you turned it over.

A red kiss mark.

Your breath hitches – you knew point-blank exactly who this was from. No doubts, no second thoughts. 

Why the fuck has she sent this? How did she know where you were? Did Leon tell her about your fight?

“Unbelievable,” You hissed under your ragged breath, clenching your fists. With your stomach churning, your eyes brim with tears as you angrily tear it open. Your chest felt so constricted, it was almost painful to breathe.

               Hope you don’t mind that I told him your whereabouts.                                                                                  -A.W.

Just one sentence – just that one sentence was enough to get you bawling your eyes out. Even though it lacked reason for you to be this heavily affected, it was the mere fact that it meant Leon had reached out to Ada again. You visibly started to shake. 

You’ve had enough of this shit.

“You ready to head ou-“ Claire’s smile falls the moment she saw your slumped and trembling figure by the door, her crystal blue eyes growing wide with worry. She practically runs over to you, dropping to her knees and draping an arm around your shoulders. 

You were inconsolable, violent sobs rocking your body.

“(Y/N), what –“ Her sentence was left hanging in the air as she saw the poorly torn white envelope and letter in your hands. She cautiously takes it from your iron grip and reads what was written; her anger flares right away.

Before she had the chance to bust out her profanities, a loud series of knocks resonate from the door. Claire gets up and, because she was too overcome with ill feelings, didn’t bother to check the peephole. She swings the door open and immediately wished she hadn’t.

Leon Kennedy stood before her; his impossibly blue eyes were rid of any warmth – they looked exhausted, lidded and tired, and the dark bags under them seemed to weigh them down more. His body was stiff with tension, his usually groomed hair was in its messiest state she’d ever seen and, really, just his whole aura was thick with dread. 

He was a mirror image of you.

If it weren’t for how angry and disappointed Claire was with him, she would have felt bad seeing him in his weary state. Claire always looked so highly of Leon; she saw how pure, sincere and brave his character was in light of the events they experienced in Raccoon City. 

So, when she found out he was the man you were seeing? She approved of the relationship right off the bat, loving him for you. Claire knew, though, about the problem with the woman in red but she didn’t realize how bad it actually was to have this whole thing happen.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Leon,” She scowls, chastising, crossing her arms over her chest. He looks down and takes the harshness of her words; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting this to happen. “Can I please see her?” His voice was hoarse.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

“It’s okay, I want to talk to him.”

Claire twists around to look at you. Your eyes were hard on the man whose heart had just skipped after being unable to see you or hear your voice for nearly a week. He recognizes the hoodie you had on and the ache in his chest tripled.

Despite your own heart jumping, your fury overclouded any feeling of longing. The letter crumples under your hand.

Claire gives you an expression as if to ask ‘Are you sure?’ and you nod. With one last look at the crestfallen male, she turns on her heel and leaves the premise to give you both some privacy.

“(Y/N)-“ Leon starts, taking a step towards you. You backtrack harshly.

Couldn’t he take a hint?

“Where’s Ada?” You grit your teeth, trying to keep your melting composure together. So much for a proper greeting. “I’m surprised you’ve bothered to come here, or that you even thought of me at all.”

Leon’s already fallen face sinks further, your words deepening the terrible pain the last few days have imbedded in him. If you only knew what the man’s been through; he could barely function not knowing where you were or who you were with or how you were doing and it showed in his present state. Ada, or at least the interaction you assumed happened between them, never reached reality.

“(Y/N),” He sighs, arduous, running a palm down his slightly stubbled cheek. The fact that you were so near but he couldn’t hold you made the inside of his chest itch. “Please, stop being like that. I want to talk this out. Properly. I don’t want Ada to be in this conversation,” He says, unable to keep the frustration from appearing in his tone.

Your anger grows. “That’s rich coming from you, especially when you hired her as your personal investigator,” You bring your clenched hand up and finally show to him the letter. “Here-“ You nearly hiss, taking a step towards him so you could press it to his chest. “You can thank her for coming through, as always.”

Leon studies the paper and his eyebrows furrow immediately. He shakes his head, looking at you perplexed. “I haven’t spoken to her ever since-“ He pauses for a split second, his jaw clamping ever so slightly, “-ever since we fought. I don’t know how she knows anything, or how she knew I was trying to find you.”

Despite your rancorous feelings, your chest prickled. You weren’t very surprised, but it softened your hardened exterior to hear his efforts. He always prioritized you, but the reason why you were so unwilling to move on from this was because of how prioritized Ada was too.

Noticeably gentler than a few seconds ago though, you moisten your dry lips. You knew Leon was telling the truth not only because of his honest eyes, but because he was just an honest person, especially when it came to you. But you just couldn’t wrap your head around how Ada was able to find out about you and Leon’s current situation and how she tracked you down.

As if he could tell what was plaguing your train of thoughts, he offers an explanation. You don’t know, though, if it made you feel better. “Ada – she’s a mysterious woman.” He acknowledges, cautiously moving closer. 

You stay where you are and it made him almost sigh in relief. If this proximity was all that the situation would allow, he’ll take it. “She has her ways, she has her own methods of knowing things.”

He shakes his head, “But enough about her. Please. I don’t want to talk about her – I want to talk about our relationship, because that’s what matters the most to me.” He says. 

You remain silent because you want him to continue and because a lump was growing in your throat.

You know from years of knowing Leon that he wasn’t the type of person to be vocal with his affection; how he grew up rendered him to be kind of awkward when it came to his feelings, he always had a hard time talking about it in general. It became especially more difficult after Raccoon City and you never tried to pry or change that; so, the rare times he did verbalize about what was in his chest, it was so special for you.

Leon takes a deep inhale, running his calloused thumbs over his fingers. “I-I’ve taken you for granted. All these years, you never left me, not even when our lives got so complicated.” He closes his stinging eyes, feeling his chest grow heavy as memories of his past played through his head – all the people lost, all the places now in ruin, all the missions he’s taken that always scared you half to death with worry. They were scars he had to live with.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever cared for me the way you do. It’s something I was never really familiar with,” He falters for a moment, wanting to compose himself. You, on the other hand, already had tears falling down your cheeks. You knew he was talking about his family and his upbringing – it was such a sensitive topic for him and your heart ached.

“-but it gives me so much hope, you know? It gives me more reason to want to end this whole attack on humanity. It’s contagious, how selfless you are.” He sighs, shifting his gaze to the carpeted floor. “The reason why I’ve been talking to Ada again is because she has information regarding new B.O.Ws being created somewhere. It’s stupid – maybe I should have just told you but I never include or disclose to you anything in my line of work because I don’t want to risk your safety.”

“You make me a better person, (Y/N), the love that you share so generously – I could only wish to reciprocate it all back to you. I-I’m trying, and I’m sorry if you have to suffer my inability to but I-“

Leon fails his words, his beautiful blue eyes glassy with tears. You’ve only ever seen him cry once your whole life, when you reunited after Raccoon City.

Without a moment more, you dash forward and wrap your arms tightly around the vulnerable and visibly upset man. You press your head to his chest, your tears – at this point – coming down like a waterfall as you listen to the beat of his heart. The heart made of pure gold, the heart that you loved more than anything in this whole fucking world.

Leon overlaps your embrace, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other snaked around your waist ardently, like he was afraid you’d fall out of his grasp again. 

He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a few moments before he closes his eyes, feeling like a thousand pounds just lifted off his shoulders. He was light-headed, the warmth of your touch he craved so much felt like paradise.

“I’m sorry too, I just- I got so hurt but I never should have left the way I did,” You sob, not caring how you looked like. “I love you, Leon, more than anything. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re lacking or that your baggage will ever be too heavy for me to carry with you. I’m not perfect either- I have my own shit, I have my own issues as well, but I know you’ll be there to help me out.”

You wipe at his eyes and he captures your hand, kissing it tenderly before intertwining his fingers with yours. “I promise I’ll be better,” He looks at you with commitment, his gaze unwavering and honest.

You smile, pledging to do the same. You trap his warm face in your palms and kiss him lovingly on the lips, your heart soaring. He deepens it.

You knew there were still going to be countless of bumps in the road ahead of you and Leon, some small, some big, and some worse or as worse as this but, no matter what, out of the billions of souls in this earth, it’s only him you’d ever love this way.