#she's a sweetheart and i'm so glad we got some new content <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[simplykorra]

alba baptista speaking with júlia palha for “geração 90” podcast at the tribeca film festival

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 3

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

you and your brother spend time together at a local diner. of course, you see leon there—with a pretty girl no less!

pt. 1 pt.2 pt.4

content contains: mild angst, mild enemies to lovers, mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2252 words

song rec: "little nocturne" by hiroshi takaki

The little bell above the shop's wooden, yellow door jingles as Damien and I enter, and the smell of carpet and fresh paper fills my senses. The music shop is painted in a warm light, the wooden walls lined with an assortment of instruments ranging from guitars, drums, and a few brass, although very few. There's a few pianos tucked into corners, and shelves of lesson books and other arrangements are shoved into them. I've been here many times before, and the shop owner often gives me discounts with how frequently I visit. There's no one behind the register, so I assume whoever's working today is in the back.

"Mrs. Conaway?" I call out, eyes darting around the shop. From behind a shelf, a little head peeps out, revealing a frail woman in her late fifties. Her glasses make her eyes bubble, and her salt-n-pepper hair is tied up in a chaotic mess atop her head.

"Ah, good morning, you two!" Mrs. Conaway smiles goofily, waddling out from behind the wooden shelf. "I assume you're here for your oboe?"

"That 'n some slide grease. I'm running a bit low," I chuckle dryly, walking with the elderly woman to the register. To the left of the register is a glass case showing off a variety of wind instruments. There's flutes, a few piccolos, a trumpet mouthpieces, a single trombone, and finally...

The F. Lorée classic oboe.

My dream instrument since beginning junior high. A professional level oboe going for over three-thousand dollars, the Lorée company has been making them for almost a century, known famously for their beautifully crafted instruments. I had been saving up for one post-high school since my freshman year.

"Y'think daddy's money can afford that?" Damien nudges me with a joking smile, referring to the extra cash I'll be getting from tutoring the girls. I roll my eyes.

"Maybe," I chuckle. Mrs. Conaway pulls out a beat-up looking case from behind the register as Damien and I banter, setting it on top of the instrument display case to show it to me.

"It's an intermediate brand. I hope it isn't too bad," she gives me a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry!" I mirror her smile, popping open the case to give the double reed instrument a look. It's a little dirty and the corks look drier than a desert, but it was nothing I couldn't fix. "It's perfect, Mrs. Conaway. Thank you so much," I nod at her, clicking the oboe case shut carefully. She clasps her hands together happily.

"I'm so glad to hear that! And remember, you don't have'ta pay me for it. It's the least I can do for my sweetest customer!" The elderly woman says giddily.

"Agh, even so... I really appreciate it, Mrs. Conaway. I'll return it as soon as I get a new one," I promise her. She pushes the case toward me, eager for me to get on with playing it and also for me to leave so she can keep working. Damien and I walk out of the shop, stepping out into the sun that shun down onto the busy town centre.

"So...?" Damien looks at me with a wicked smirk. "We got the car for the day... are ya thinkin' what I'm thinkin', thumper?" He swings his arm over my shoulders. I eye him with a quirked brow. As if reading each other's mind, we shout in unison,

"ICE CREAM 'N JOYRIDES!"

Our cheer echoes down the street, but we giggle as if there's nothing wrong in the world. We jog over to the Impala, hopping in quickly before driving off to the best restaurant in the world—Hattie's. A local favourite, and everyone here swears that it sells the best shakes you could possibly imagine. Mrs. Hattie L. Parker started the old shoppe when Everglade was first founded in 1957 at the age of 22, and it's been a staple ever since in this old town. I can't name a single person here that doesn't frequent the place.

We pull into an empty spot with "Come On Eileen" playing lowly from the radio. As soon as we park, we throw ourselves out of the car, racing each other to the door of the diner while giggling all the way. I decide to bring my hand-me-down oboe with me, wanting to get some repair as soon as possible.

"You're cheating!" Damien yelps when he sees me get to the glass door faster than him.

"Nuh uh?! It's not my fault I'm just a lil closer to the door compared to you!" I cackle, pushing the door open with my back as I hug my case to my chest. My older brother gives me a rough pat on the head, jostling my hair around with his palm. I grunt at the affection, trying to pull him off of me as we stumbled into the bustling diner. It's almost packed, most of the booths and counter seats taken up. As Damien and I look around for a seat, I lock eyes with him.

In a booth is Leon Scott Kennedy, sitting with three other people. Next to him is the famous Ada Wong, known across the school for being the one of best lacrosse players in the county, as well as my graduate year's class president. I can't see the other two he's sitting with from where I'm standing, but I'm assuming it's someone from her little posse that's been at her feet since freshman year.

I feel myself shrink as I make eye contact with him, unconsciously drifting to stand behind my brother. Leon's got the same glare I saw him give me before Damien and I left to get my new oboe, which was clutched tightly to my front. I notice he changed his clothes, sporting a deep blue sweater with a white collared shirt beneath it.

Damien notices how quiet I'm being and follows my gaze.

"You good, thump- Oh..." The boy sneers at the sight of the ace. He squeezes my shoulder softly. "Ignore 'em, sis. Let's sit over here," he grunts, spinning me toward an empty booth at the opposite end of the diner. We settle into the red, leather seats, immediately ordering a sodapop and a banana-split to share between us. I keep my head down, eyes trained on the oboe case on the table.

Carefully, I open it to reveal the old thing. Rummaging through the case, I pull out a tube of cork grease and get to work. I'm careful as I apply the lubricant onto the dry corks, trying not to put too much on to avoid them get soft and even more flakey. All the while, I can feel the stares on me.

I look up hesitantly, eyes immediately settling on Leon. His arm is wrapped around Ada Wong's shoulder, fingers playing with the threads of her black cardigan. My fingers tighten around the lower piece of my oboe, an odd feeling in my chest as I watch the blonde be so casual with someone I assume he's only known for a day. Suddenly, he looks up at me, seeming just as confused as I am. I quickly look back down at the parts in my case, praying he didn't catch me staring.

"Can't believe he's hangin' out with Wong and her best friend," Damien huffs, fiddling with the turkey feather for my oboe. I remember that he and Ada had a thing going on before the summer. He never told me what happened—all I knew is that one night, he came home crying, and he sobbed about how much he loved her. I never brought it up since then, but tt finally occurs to me that Leon was most likely on a double date of sorts, and the ache in my chest worsens. Ada isn't really seen with boys outside of school unless she had some romantic interest in them...

"Are you really surprised, though? I mean, they're both heartless assholes with no personality," I sigh, setting the lower piece back into the case. I snag the feather out of Damien's fingers, stuffing it into velvet-lined container before closing it.

"Heh, I guess you're right," he chuckles.

Our order finally arrives, and I set my oboe in the booth next to me, making sure it won't fall again. Immediately, Damien tears apart the sweet treat we got, and I fear he won't spare me a bite. I laugh softly at his messy eating, the neapolitan ice cream smearing across his lips as he chowed down.

From the corner of my eye, I see my tormentor staring at me from his seat, and he's got this look in his eyes I can't quite place. His plump lips are pursed a little, and there's a small crease between his brows. I can't tell if he's looking here to judge me or if he's trying to brew up new ways to harass me. My heart pounds and I can feel a thin layer of sweat form at the top of my neck as I stress.

"Do you want to leave, (Y/n)?" My brother asks, looking up from the bowl of ice cream. His voice is stern, and I can tell he isn't playing around.

"Uhm..." I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking of what to do. "I... I think I'll be okay," I swallow dryly, reaching out for the glass of sodapop to take a sip. Damien seems unconvinced with the way he's narrowing his eyes at me.

"M'kay..." he grunts, going back to eating the sundae. I take a few nibbles as well, trying my best to ignore the way Leon watched me from his seat across the room.

He's on a date with someone... Why is he so focused on me?

Thankfully, Damien finishes off the ice cream quickly. With the way he's so jittery, I can tell he wants to leave, too. We stack our plates close to the end of the table so it's easier to clean up before we head to the register, wanting to pay and leave as soon as possible. I carry my oboe case behind my back, swaying back and forth on my heels as my brother pays for our treat. When we turn around to leave, we're face to face with the people we wanted to avoid.

"Dami, it's good to see you again. Couldn't you bother to say hello?" The girl in red smiled up at my big brother. Finally, I have a good look of the group.

Ada's dressed in her classic colours, the scarlet sweater-dress tight against her bosom that's accentuated by the cross hanging by her neck. Her ebony cardigan is kept over her arm as she stands with her hip popped out a bit, making her hourglass figure apparent.

Leon's sweater-collared combo was paired with mocha coloured dress pants, the sleeves of his shirts rolled up to his elbows to show off his muscle.

The other couple accompanying them, I gave no attention to, instead tugging at Damien's shirt in attempt to ground him

"That's rich coming from someone who didn't have the balls to say goodbye to me," my brother says through gritted teeth, his eye twitching lightly as his knuckles turned white. Ada gave him a hearty laugh.

"Oh, Dami, that was so long ago. I'm surprised you even remembered with how drunk you were," she chuckles, wiping a tear from her eye. This comment concerned me. My brother was drinking...?

"Don't fuckin' call me that," he seethed. I clutch the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling on it lightly.

"Damien, let's just go," I plead, not wanting the situation to get worse.

"You got a new clarinet, huh?" Leon states, pointing at the case I held at my side. I look at him, terrified that he'll snatch it out of my hands and shatter it just like the last. I hide it behind my back cautiously.

"Y-yes..." I squint at the blonde man. "Now, if you'll just... excuse us," I coughed, dragging Damien by his shirt as I tugged him behind me, squeezing between Ada and Leon to get through.

My side bumps into Leon's, and something within me feels... uneasy. The contact was quick, but I felt like I was burning up when I felt the skin of his arm graze against my own. I mumble a quick "excuse me" as we pass the two brats, my oboe case clutched tightly in my hands. Damien and I walk out the door, and I try my best not to look back.

I can feel Leon's piercing stare on the back of my head, following me as if I was some sort of prey.

What does he want from me?

"Are you okay, Dami?" I worry, my hand rubbing his arm comfortingly the moment we're out of the diner. His eyes are clearly droopy, and I just know he wants to go home now when he flashes a tired smile.

"M'okay, sis... Just... Didn't think she'd talk to me, y'know?" He chortles humourlessly. I hum in understanding, helping him to the driver side of the Impala.

"Let's go home, Dami," I say, sad that our day of fun was so quickly soured.

There was one thing on my mind on the drive home. Thoughts of Leon's odd behaviour threw me into a dizzy. Why does he hate me so much that he's willing to glare at me across the room? Why does he even care?

High schoolers are so weird...

is he actually dating ada? hmm... guess we'll find out :p pt.4

[chaoticstrata]

Finished End of Dragons

So I finished End of Dragons' main campaign last night. And I have to say I rather like the journey so far. I know I didn't do this for Path of Fire or anything else, so I'm gonna lump that in here too.

One of my favorite things with the story is how my character's voice has evolved (Sylvari Male). It pretty much went from bright eyed and bushy tailed to exhausted/just done with it all. There are, of course, upbeat and hilarious moments but during season 3 and Path of Fire, every time he got a call from one of his guildmates it sounds like he's saying 'What now? -sigh-' It then turns a bit less exhausted going into EoD, and a little more 'Commander-esque'.

Mounts are fun, I like there are different ones for different tasks. Griffon is probably my favorite so far--if only because it was a pain in the ass to unlock. I'm holding judgement on the skyscale if only because I have no masteries unlocked for it. Base flying is...painful.

Path of Fire (and the season leading up to it) was amazing. I loved almost every minute of it. Aurene is a sweetheart! The landscapes were beautiful! And going back to Elona was so much fun. Especially since there were things I recognized! Like Livia and Koss! The third sassy comment from the mysterious Shining Blade person you helped with Eye of Jathir I knew right away who she was. And I was stoked! And poor Koss! Although it was hilarious that he was so annoying with his sass and backtalk that Joko ordered him to stay in the cave. XD (On a side note, Fuck Kormir. It should have been Koss.)

Season 4 and Icebrood saga. Can I say Emotional Damage much? ;-; But it hurt so good! The whole thing with what happened to Blish. And then Taimi. Taimi was like ripping my heart out--my friend who's also playing has not gotten to this part and he adores Taimi. Like 'Must protect Taimi at all costs' type adore. I'm keep mum about it, but ooh boy, I'll know when he gets to it. (He's getting to the part in Season 3 where we find out that killing the dragons like we are is not the best thing for the planet.) And then there's Braham, with everything he'd been through. ;-;

I loved having Canach with us during PoF, little sad that he wasn't in EoD as much--but it's understandable. I'm still on the fence about the new VO, but I think Matt does a good job at bringing the sass. I do hope I get to see more of him for SotO

End of Dragons was...it was ok. I liked all the characters from it. The story had it's moments, but the story overall was kind of meh for me. Just my opinion, obviously. Rama was a gem, and I'm glad to see we get some more of him going into the extra content. It was awesome to see a lot of the places from Factions and hear about a few people from then. Actually, I wonder if there are any extra dialogues for Revenants, especially if they use Shiro as a stance. Would be interesting to see.

One thing I really would like to shout out is the representation ArenaNet has put in the game. Jory and Kas. Caithe and Faolin. Yao. Hell, random NPC conversations. Nothing is made a bit deal bout any of it (except some people getting their panties in a twist, but they don't matter). They just exists, like anyone else in the world. I really could go on and on, but this post is long enough as it is. lol

[poltergeist-coffee]

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY

I hope you had a great day:D

I will finish that drawing, I WILL EVEN IF THAT'S THE LAST THING I DO

I don't have much to say right now but I hope everything is okay with you

And uh... remember when people were talking about the sins and making theories about it when the purgatory was announced ?

Maybe they were right

THEY POSTED A IMAGE OF QUACKITY WITH TILIN AND RICHAS AND JUST A TEXT THAT SAID "step II: envy" or something

I mean, you probably saw but I'm losing my mind

Why is Richas and Tilin there, don't hurt my babies PLEASE

But that Quackity's live in the Nether... man, Tilin just dropped the hardest lines that day

"You told me about paradise

But this is HELL

There is no paradise

Not for you"

I just noticed that with new eggs, it means I have more eggs to add to the list to make a desing

Not that I care because I already love them<3

I just have to find time to draw them

I don't know why they won't wear amour(or so I heard), but FOREVER COME BACK, WE NEED YOU TO MAKE THEM ROOMS IN THE NINHO

I CAN'T WATCH THEM DIE

At least they have two lives... right?(<- trying not to remember how 3 of the eggs died on the first days)

But uh... Yeah, EMPANA SAID SHE SPEAKS GERMAN AND NIKI IS GERMAN, RIGHT?

YEAAAAAH

I love Empanada so much

I'm glad Niki got a egg, I don't watch her a lot, but I did watch some of her content before the qsmp and I think she's great

She has a calm voice that is nice to hear

- 🍽

THANK YOOOUUUU ^W^ <33

i hope you're doing well too :DD hopefully school/finals haven't been too bad for you. My finals exam week is coming up soon TT in like a week or two...

i wasn't able to watch the Quackity live but i saw some people talk about it on twitter!! I saw people theorize that maybe Richas is greed? or some other sin but a lot of people agreed that Tilin is envy!! i also saw people saying that q!quackity must be dying/in a hospital bed and he's like... dreaming of tilin and richas when he was in the nether

i recently finished my egg designs for the newest kids >:DD i should probably post them...at some point... but i am shy sdajvnaksj i've loved seeing everyones different interpertatoins for the breakfast trio's designs :")) (i saw people refer to Em, Sunny and Pepito as the Breakfast Trio which i think is the cutest fucking thing ever TT)

NIKI IS SUCH A SWEETHEART >< I was so happy to see her get announced to be on the qsmp and seeing everyone love her so much :")) i don't watch her often but i love seeing people post about her. i hope that she gets to talk with Empanada in German a lot- and Chayanne!! I know chayanne can also speak german (at least one of his admins can? i'm not sure if he has a permenent admin now or if he's still being controlled by a few different ones....)

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 2

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

oboes are fuckin' expensive. much to you and your brother's dismay, the school is making you pay for the damages instead of your newfound enemy. oh, and his dad wants you to tutor his daughters!

pt. 1 pt.3

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, mean leon, cliches, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

not proofread i am sleepy

2252 words

song rec: "the mercy of the wind" by million eyes

still on the slower side, but alas.

"Ms. (L/n)? They're asking for you at the guidance office," Mr. Kay coughs during our water break. I look up at him, confused for a moment, but I realize it was most likely to talk about that awful interaction that happened before this period between Damien, Leon, and me.

"Oh... Oka-"

"Let me go with her, Mr. Kay," Sammy demands, setting her flute down in her case beneath her seat. Before the director can say anything, the ravenette drags me by the sleeve of my shirt out of the door. She's got this pout on her lips, and I know that she's still angry.

"I can't believe that fuckin' asshole just thought it was a good idea to drop your oboe like that!" She fumes. I swear I can steam come out of her ears as she grumbles profanities about the ace soccer player. "Y'know, you'd think that he knows how expensive those things can be since he has two sisters in band, but nnooooo, he just had to go on 'n do that to you, huh? I'll show him...!"

"Sammy, it's fi-" The five-foot-nine beauty stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to face me and slam her palms onto my shoulder.

"Sugar, it's not fine," she sighs, seeing how shocked I looked. "That oboe is your baby. You can beat up your trumpet as much as you want, but that oboe is what's gettin' you into college," she reminds me. I look down at the toes of my converse, a bit embarrassed by how I was so easily putting off my emotions. I feel Sammy give my cheek a soft caress with her thumb.

"Don't lie to yourself and put Kennedy in a shinin' light. He did something awful to you, and that's a fact. Me 'n your brother are gunna make him pay hell," the girl assures me, and I nod at her words.

"Thank you, Sammy... I'm glad you love me enough to tell me I'm being an idiot," I chuckle dryly. She slaps my shoulder softly.

"That's what best friends are for, (Y/n)!" Sammy gives me a comforting smile, and we begin walking again. The journey is a bit long considering the band room is on the opposite end of the high school, but it was fun because of how Sammy described the most grotesque ways of torturing the new boy in town. Eventually, we made it to the guidance office, and inside was my counselor, my older brother, and the devil incarnate.

"Ah, there you are," my conselor, Ms. Penelope smiles. She nods at Samantha, and I figure she's okay with my friend being here. I sit down awkwardly between Leon and Damien, shrinking in my spot to take up as little space possible. My best friend sits next to Damien, furthest away from the ex-Greenvale resident. The silence is deafening, and I feel as if I could cut the tension with a knife.

"So..." Ms. Penelope clears her throat, resting her dainty hands atop her desk. "I think we all know why you three are in here," she motions towards the boys and me. Damien grunts, and Leon is dead silent. I decide to speak up.

"How will my oboe be repaired?" I question. I see Ms. Penelope's expression turn a bit somber. Through gritted teeth, she responds.

"Well, I had asked some other people before I called you in, and they said it would be best not to penalize Mr. Kenne-"

"What.," Damien and Sammy eyes narrowed as they spoke in unison. I hear Leon stifle a giggle, and my brother immediately stands up, about to pounce.

"Don't fucking laugh, you piece of shit!" He roars, fist tight at his sides. "That thing was hard-earned, dipshit!"

"Mr. (L/n), sit down, now!" Ms. Penelope gasps.

"Please," Leon scoffs. "Nothing from your family is hard-earned. As far as I know, you bribed your coach to be team captain. It's too bad that money's all wasted, Dami-poo~ I'm here now," the blonde smiles devilishly, and I see my brother is getting ready to rip his throat out.

"You little-!"

"Boys! Settle down, please! You are not making this situation any better," Ms. Penelope orders. Like a kicked puppy, Damien retreats back into his seat, crossing his arms beneath his chest like a child being scolded by his mother.

"Ugh, Ms. Penelope, this doesn't make any sense. That was an advanced-level instrument. If (Y/n) can't get it repaired or replaced soon, she won't have anything to play for our concert season," Samantha said, trying to reason. "Surely he can pitch in a little money. This is his fault, after all."

"I'm sorry... I have no control over this. If I had it my way, I'd have him pay in full, but it was a request from our principal. The best I could do was have a fundraising event approved for your band," the brunette woman explain, her frown worsening.

"Great. Can I leave now? My study hall is about to end, and I've got an English class to catch," Leon yawned out, the sleeve of his Greenvale High letterman straightening as he stretched. Ms. Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly irritated dealing with ignorant high schoolers.

"Yes, yes. Go 'head, Mr. Kennedy," she eagerly dismisses him. Immediately, he saunters out the door of her office, seemingly very happy with himself. The door shuts with a click, and it's just us four left. Tears begin to swell in the corner of my eyes.

"Erm... So, w-what's the fundraiser going to b-be?" I stutter out, not wanting to show weakness. The counselor hands me a slip of paper.

"I recommended a bake sale. It's simple, and I know our little town never says no to a sweet treat, especially with how nice the weather's been recently," she smiles gently at me, and I feel my heart squeeze. Samantha takes the pink sheet out of my hands and grins from ear to ear.

"Thanks, Ms. Penelope. I'll be telling our director about this. Is that all you needed from us?" Sammy asks, standing up from her spot. The brunette shakes her head as a no and has us leave her alone. Damien sighs when the door closes behind us, and I can tell he wants to blow up. I take his hand in mine, softly squeezing it.

"You okay, Dami?" I frown. He looks at me, clearly distraught.

"I guess..." he huffs. "I just wish he were dead," his eyes narrow, and I know he's thinking about Leon.

"Tch, you 'n me both," Sammy clicks her tongue.

"You gunna be okay, sis? I can get Ma to pick you up if you need," Damien asks me, worried. I think for a moment, and I nod as a yes. It's a Friday anyways, and there won't be any games until two weeks. Sammy leaves Damien and me on our own, deciding to get back to the band room to retrieve my belongings. My dear big brother takes me to the front off and requested the desk-lady to call our mom. After a bit, he left me with a chaste kiss on my forehead and told me to wait for Mom and Samantha.

I sat alone in the office, patiently waiting for my mom with my broken oboe in my lap.

"Hey, (Y/n)? Can you come down here for a second?" I hear Mom call from the bottom of the stairs. I slug myself out of the bed, not wanting to leave my room. My slippers drag against the floor as I slump down the stairs, wanting to get this over with and just sleep for the rest of the day. We don't have dinner until an hour or two, so I'm curious as to why Mom would call me down so early. When I make it down the stairs, I see Mom sitting in the living room with a familiar man, happily talking to him.

"She's had a bit of a rough day, so give her a moment," I hear her tell him. I walk in, still in my school clothing. My fingers fiddle with the fabric of my shirt as I sit down next to my mother, looking at the man confused.

It's Leon's dad...

"Honey, this is Mr. Kennedy. He wants to ask you a favour," Mom sets a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly. I swallow dryly, a tight feeling in my chest as I stare at the blonde man across me. His hair is slicked back, dressed in black dress pants, and a maroon button-up. His eyes are a gentle chocolate brown, a stark difference compared to his son's harsh and icy hues. Mr. Kennedy nods at me, smiling gently.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n)," he grins at me. "I got a suggestion from my little ones' band directors about private lessons for trumpet. I was wondering if you were perhaps interested? I'm willing to pay you 20$ an hour if so," he asks me, crossing his legs. My eyes widen at his price.

"O-oh, uhm...!?" I bite my bottom lip, unsure of what to say. I shoot a look at my mom to my left, silently begging for guidance. She gives me only a reassuring smile, and I look back at Mr. Kennedy.

"Well?"

"Uhm... sure," I cough. "Is it alright if they're after school every Monday, Tuesday, and some Friday nights? I would like her to have some experience with our marching band as well, if you're both okay with it," I ask him. He thinks for a moment before nodding.

In the end, we agree with the schedule. Every Monday and Tuesday, his daughters will come over to practice with me. For Fridays, they'll only accompany during home football games to get some experience playing more advanced pep-tunes, but only if they want to. I tried to tell him that 20$ an hour was a bit much, but he insisted, claiming that his daughters can be rowdy. Eventually, he leaves, and I'm left alone with my mom in the kitchen to drink some tea. Slumping in my seat, I sigh annoyedly.

"Do you think he knows about my...?"

"Maybe," Mom murmurs as she washes dishes, sometimes looking at the stove to check on the boiling pasta. "But I'm assuming not," she hums, and I frown. I didn't have the heart to tell him his son is a heartless person, and it made me feel a bit worse than it should have. I leave the kitchen without another word, stumbling back into my room to cry a bit more...

It's sunny today.

"Oi, thumper, wake up," Damien raps at my bedroom door, opening it enough to poke his head in. I'm already up, sitting in my window nook while I look through some music I played in middle school to get ready for tutoring. I look up from the sheets, staring blankly at my brother.

"Ready?" I ask him. He looks surprised that I'm awake, but he nods.

"Mom's letting me take Pa's car today," my older brother smirks, dangling the silver keys in the air. I chuckle, knowing how much he loves Dad's little Impala. I get up from my spot in my plush nook, following Damien downstairs and out the door after we bid our parents goodbye. The two of us race to the car childishly, giggling all along as we throw ourselves into the noir Chevrolet. We settle into the cool leather seats, and I immediately pop on our cassette tape that’s stored in the center console. Immediately, Toto’s “Hold the Line” begins, and we begin to pull out of the driveway. As Damien hums along to the song, I look out of the window to my left.

Today, we’re going out to get a hand-me-down oboe from a local shop that is generous enough to give me one since I’m there so often. A little temporary deal until my personal one can be repaired or replaced. As we pull out of the drive way, I catch sight of the devil across the street.

He’s sitting on the porch, and I’m confused as to how I didn’t notice him before. In Leon’s lap is what looks like a guitar, and he’s got this ugly scowl on his face as he glares at us from his home.

“What an ugly bastard,” Damien white-knuckles the wheel, glaring at him through the rearview. I glance over to my brother, seeing his brows furrow as he stares down the blonde boy across the street.

A large part of me wanted to defend Leon’s beauty. I know I should hate him, but he’s just so… charming. From the rearview, I notice how his hair is a little damp, and I assume he had showered this morning. His shirt is simply white, and I can’t see the rest of his outfit from the way he sat behind his porch. My fingers clutch the at fabric of my sleeves, holding myself back from saying something about Leon’s looks. We drive past the Kennedy household, and I can’t help but stare through the window.

Leon’s gaze pierces through the glass, and I feel myself shrink into my seat, my heart drumming against my ribcage as we lock eyes. His lips are formed in a straight line as his icy glare follows the Impala I rode in, and I can’t bring myself to look away.

Is it wrong to want to talk to him, despite what he did to me?

uhh its still slow but yk i think thats what will make it good or not i honestly just type out my scrambled thoughts and hope it works!

pt.3 here!

some lovelies⇁ @vampiramaeve @kurawooooooo @umooooo74 @estre11afugaz