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ahatintimepieces · 3 years

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It Comes Down in Buckets

Before Luka and Hattie ended up in Subcon, they faced many challenges on the road as they adjusted to Luka’s curse. This is a lil gift for Mak, @doodledrawsthings, and their “””Coffeeshop au””” where Luka pushes himself a bit too hard while trying to make the day special for Hattie. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 7,678

The rolling waves tumbled against the velvet sand and the morning sunlight skipped across the foaming crests, painting them gold. Hattie’s grip tightened around the old bucket she had found as she inhaled the salty, fishy air. Standing at the patches of grass that separated the edge of the forest from the beach, she gazed out at the shore. Her sketchbook waited in her backpack, begging her to pull it out and to memorialize the look of the sea and snapshot the ebb and flow of surging waves, but she had work to do.

She had to find the prettiest seashells before anyone else so she could sell them for some extra cash. Every little bit helped.

Weaving down to the beach, the warming sand caught between her toes and kicked up with each flop and flip of her flipflops. She swung the dented bucket with rust stains as she hurried to the lapping tide. She stepped into the water and immediately squealed before jumping back from the cold. The foam receded, as if teasing her, and an impish grin spread across her features.

As the water crawled back up the shore, Hattie fixed her old baseball cap and then leapt into the ankle-deep wave. Her initial screech dissolved into laughter. Splashing around, her flipflops tossed clouds of murky dust up and the sloshing, icy water splattered against her leg. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a pose as she gazed out at the sliver of light where the sky paralleled the ocean. With the cascading crackles of the snapping sea rumbling around her, it was hard not to let her mind wander into daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly. A calm day at the beach. No time limits for her dad, no worrying about money, and he could finally rest. He could finally be happy again. And she could play in the surf and chase crabs, pretend to be a pirate finding buried treasure, or draw and paint next to her dad as he napped. She could picture it so perfectly.

But she glanced down at the bucket as it bumped against her hip. Its creaking handle brought her back to reality.

Hattie let out a huff before shuffling out of the grasp of the waves, where it would be easier to spot shells. But before she did, a playful crest rolled back to reveal the tip of a fancy looking shell. Gasping, Hattie knelt and carefully tugged the shell free and revealed what she always thought of as a mini conch, though her dad would probably tell her that it was whelk of some kind since it had a rounder top and thinner end.

After checking the inside cavity for any snail or sea critter by poking a cautious finger around to confirm it was empty, she held the whelk to her ear.

She grinned when she heard the ocean. But she was also standing in it so the shell could still potentially be a dud. Nevertheless, she placed it into the bucket, and it slid around as she went searching for more.

As Hattie combed the beach, a couple people showed up to lounge on the sand or wade in the surf. It didn’t get crowded, since it was a workday, but when she wandered towards the opposite side of the long beach, where the sand was cut off by rounded boulders that jutted out into the sea, she ran into a tourist screaming at a seagull.

“What’s wrong?” Hattie called as she hoisted her bucket overflowing with shells to the side to make it easier to sprint forward.

“That darn seagull took my stuff!” The tourist gestured angrily towards a seagull perched on one of the rocks surrounded by water. It bobbed its head around as it stood proudly over a grey camera. Sunlight glinted against the lens.

“I’ll get it,” Hattie offered without hesitation. She placed the bucket down and scrambled up the boulders.

“Wait, kid, you don’t have to!” He waved his hands across his chest, trying to get her to stop, but it was too late. She didn’t listen as she assessed the slippery boulders and slowly navigated her way across.

She came to the edge of the final boulder and eyed the gap between it and the one in the waves. The seagull cocked its head towards her and let out a squawk. Pausing, Hattie glanced around, trying to figure out how to distract the seagull.

Before she could, the seagull snapped its beak towards something behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find the tourist was waving a sandwich around. The seagull swooped over her, and she belatedly ducked as it soared over to the tourist. He yelped and turned on his heels before sprinting from the squawking bird.

Hattie tugged her cap down in determination before turning back towards the rock. She took a cautious step back before lunging from the boulder and vaulting onto the next. Grunting after she smacked against the rock, she scrambled up and grabbed the camera. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and nestled the camera between her sketchbook and Professor Popcorn. For good measure, she tucked her dad’s hoodie around it to keep it extra safe.

Once her backpack was zipped, she looped her arms through the straps and got ready to jump back.

The tourist had returned to his spot, hunched over and panting with his cap askew and white and grey feathers stuck to his vibrant orange shirt. She inhaled a steadying breath and leapt back towards shore.

She misjudged the distance.

Nearly sliding over the side of the rock, she scraped her knee against stone as she clambered and clawed. Panic squeezed her chest until she could finally find her grip.

“Careful, now!” the tourist called as she hoisted herself up with her heart pounding. She glanced towards the worried man and gave him a thumbs up before crawling forward.

Her stinging knee threatened to buckle when she first stood, but she gritted her teeth and pushed onward. She navigated back to the beach and dropped down onto the sand.

“Geez, kid, that was dangerous!” the tourist sighed as Hattie pulled out his camera.

“But I got it!” She beamed, holding it out proudly. Her smile faltered when she noticed the identical camera that hung around his neck. His chin tilted down as he followed her gaze.

“I was trying to tell you, I have a spare,” he said apologetically. “But, hey! Since you got it, why don’t you keep it? It’s great for preserving memories!”

Hattie pulled the camera back, appraising the contraption.

Preserving memories? No matter how much she sketched all the places she and her father had been, it might be nice to be able to just take a picture to quickly capture everything. She could take a picture of the sea, in fact. But she stared into the curved lens with growing dismay.

Flashes of headlights and blinding snaps. Posters with blurry images of her shadowy dad offering money for anyone who could capture the pictured creature, dead or alive. And, even when he shapeshifted, he was still so jumpy around cameras.

Maybe she could sell it at a pawn shop for a little extra cash? In the meantime, it might not hurt to keep it on hand…

“Oh, hold on,” the tourist exclaimed, startling her out of her thoughts. She tucked the camera back into her backpack and blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “You got quite the scrape there, let me help.” He motioned her over to his set up on the beach, complete with a towel and umbrella.

After the tourist helped her clean up and shared back-up sandwiches he had prepared, she let him choose one of the shells to take as thanks and set off to sell the rest.

She set up a little area at the top of the beach, halfway between the rest of the city and the parking lot for beach goers. After doodling a cute sign declaring her wares were ready, she caught the eyes of passersby and wove imaginative tales about the shells for anyone who came near. Since this wasn’t the first time that she had sold items that she salvaged while her dad worked, she had developed a good enough sense to get a read on personalities and how to appeal to them. Parents with children were easily swayed by silly stories about the shells. She even managed to convince a businessman walking by to purchase one since her wares were far cheaper than the nearby souvenir shops that sold the same shells. And, after all, hers were higher quality and, really, didn’t he want to support an aspiring entrepreneur? (It probably helped her chances that she practiced that word a few times prior to make sure she was pronouncing it right).

She bolted when she spotted some cops patrolling the area, though.

By the end of the day, she successfully sold more than half of her shells. She tucked the coins and cash safely into an inside pocket in her backpack, where her secret stash would help her buy food for whenever her dad inevitably got stuck in noddle form and couldn’t work. She had tried giving her earnings to him directly before, but he had only gotten upset, insisting she didn’t need to worry about money and it was his job to take care of her, not the other way around. But they both knew that he often pushed himself past his limits, and he couldn’t do everything himself.

She was just beginning to collect firewood close to their camp when footsteps tracked through the grass. Hattie froze, turning towards the sound and holding her breath. Golden light flickered between the trees and an approaching shadow broke into the small clearing.

“Hey, kiddo!” Her dad, still in his human form, which surprised her, jumped forward with a wide grin and his hands behind his back. Wrinkles lined the corners of his eyes, but he was alert with enthusiasm as he straightened. A plastic bag crinkled noisily as it swayed behind him. “Guess what I got for our most important celebration tonight?”

“Celebration?” Hattie tilted her head, though his energy was infectious, and she cracked a smile.

“Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is,” he teased, bringing his hand forward and adjusting the delivery cap he wore for his morning job of delivering papers.

“Payday?” she guessed, crossing over to their firepit and dropping the dry twigs and branches she found.

“N-no, kiddo,” he faltered, quirking a brow as he revealed a plastic bag with local dollar store logo. “It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” She blinked up at him.

“Did you really forget?” His features fell and the worn creases on his face highlighted the underlining fatigue. “We talked about it, right? When we were-when we were moving.”

“Y-yeah,” Hattie said. She did sort of remember now that he mentioned it, but she hadn’t thought too much about it since they had other things to worry about. “I just forgot what day of the week it is.”

He didn’t seem to believe her but he accepted the excuse.

“Well, I got hot dogs and marshmallows,” he added quickly, pulling out a bag of large marshmallows for emphasis. If he sensed how she tensed, he ignored it and gestured towards the direction of the beach. “I thought we could start a fire at one of the communal firepits and have a cookout!”

“What about our camp?” Hattie gestured to the little circle of rocks they had set up a few days ago when they first decided to settle in this city.

“It’ll still be here,” he promised. After tucking the marshmallows back into the bag, he walked over to her pile of wood and searched for the longest and cleanest sticks.

“But the beach is out in the open,” she pressed, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt. “Don’t you need to change back?”

“Of course not!” he insisted with a little more force than he probably intended. In a lighter tone, he waved his hand dismissively with a smile plastered across his face. “I can hold it together long enough for your birthday. Come on! Let’s have fun!”

He placed a few sticks he deemed worthy for hot dog and marshmallow roasting into the plastic bag and then motioned for her to follow.

“But—” she hesitated.

“You know, I used to do this when I was a kid,” he jumped enthusiastically into the memory, not giving her a chance to argue. She frowned but grabbed her backpack and the bucket that still had the leftover seashells.

Hey, if they were going to be on the beach, she might as well keep an eye out for more.

“Any time we went camping, we would grab a bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows. Of course,” he added a bit quietly as they walked through the woods, “usually we had buns and graham crackers and chocolate. But I did snag some ketchup packets from the restaurant!” He beamed proudly.

Hattie forced a smile, though guilt gnawed at the reminder that he had worked two jobs that day, trying to get enough money together so that they could find a motel to stay at sooner than later. She considered giving him the money she had saved, but she didn’t want to cause him more grief especially since she could tell he was masking his exhaustion. Maybe she could hide the money where he would find it with his things? She could pass it off as him misplacing the bills!

Though, both of them had become increasingly vigilant when dealing with money in the past couple years. He would have noticed if that much went missing in the first place.

“Here we are,” he gestured to the firepit closest to the forest the second they walked onto the sand. “Sit tight while I get the fire going.” There was wrapped firewood next to the pit, all ready for them and their cookout. His water bottle was also leaning against one of the logs, indicating that he had stopped by before running to get her. While he finished setting up, Hattie gazed out at the sea.

The water mirrored the stretch of twilight. Orange-pink rays of dwindling sunlight lingered on the horizon and the occasional star twinkled in the darkening sky. Crackles and pops that came from the growing fire behind her mingled with the surging waves before her. And when her dad joined her side and held out his hand, she smiled as she took it, keeping her gaze locked on the horizon.

“It’s like that one picture in the book at the library in the last town,” she whispered, craning her neck back to meet his warm golden gaze. “The one with the watercolor illustrations!”

“It is!” he agreed, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“I want to paint something like this one day,” she admitted, turning back to the sea.

“I bet you can, and sooner than you think.” His smile permeated his voice. He gently tugged her hand and nodded towards the firepit. Despite the lines under his eyes, he did seem happy, and that was good enough for Hattie.

“Okay!” She joined him on a log, and eagerly waited for him to pass her a stick he doused with water to keep it from burning.

Her dad filled her in on his day as they roasted the hot dogs. He got her laughing with a few jokes his coworkers shared, and she nodded knowingly when he told her about some of the customers he had worked with. When he asked about her day as he broke open the bag of marshmallows, she explained that she was looking for seashells and presented the bucket with her findings.

“Quick, if you have twenty seashells and I take five, how many do you have left?” he quizzed.

“F-fifteen!” Hattie blinked, hesitating only a moment as she registered the question.

“Good girl,” he praised, passing over a marshmallow.

“If you bought one bag of marshmallows for tonight, how many marshmallows will you have tomorrow morning?” She blinked up at him, trying and failing to conceal her growing smirk.

“Hmm.” He speared his own marshmallow as he gave her a wry grin. “That’s a tough one, why don’t you give me a hint?”

“Zero!” She pulled her burning marshmallow out of the fire and quickly blew on it.

The flames dissipated into a plume of smoke, leaving a burnt crust behind on the marshmallow. Without waiting, she popped it into her mouth and the gooey burst of molten sugar melted on her tongue.

“Becath I’ll eat ‘em all!” she declared through her sticky mouthful.

“Just don’t choke!” He chuckled before putting his arm around her and giving her a side squeeze. She immediately snuggled into his side, comforted by his warmth.

As they worked through the marshmallows and the night cloaked the beach, Hattie pulled out the hoodie and tugged it over herself. The hoodie was far too big since it was her dad’s but despite the floppy sleeves and how it was more like a dress on her, it was cozy and kept the night chill away. She became even cozier when her dad plucked her up and enveloped her in a hug.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispered as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

“Hap—erm,” her cheeks flushed since she had almost wished him a happy birthday back. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and gave her a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I have one more surprise,” he said, arching back and stretching his arm maybe a bit farther than a human arm should, and rummaged around the plastic bag.

She leaned over, trying to peek and his other hand moved over her eyes.

“Don’t look!” He shifted around a bit before Hattie felt something lower into her lap. “Alright, now you can.” He pulled his hand away and she immediately glanced down.

Watercolors. A plastic palette of watercolors rested in her lap with a tiny brush snuggly tucked into a divot on the side. A single golden ribbon was taped on for the birthday wrapping. Her chest tightened as she imagined all the things she could paint, all the things she wanted to bring to life with water-soaked pigments.

But how much did he spend on her?

“Well?” he prompted with an edge of nervousness. “Is it okay?”

“I love it.” In one swift movement, she hugged the palette before swiveling around and burying her face into his chest. A lump threatened to lodge in her throat, but she swallowed it as she hugged her dad.

“Oh, Hattie.” He leaned over her and held her tightly. “I’m glad. I know it’s not much.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised, grasping his shirt.

He did so much for her, sacrificed so much just to take care of her, and now this? She wished she could do more to help.

After a few moments of lingering in his embrace, she pulled back while rubbing at her eyes.

“Everything oh-ahem.” Her dad suddenly pulled his hand away from his task of brushing her hair back. She wrinkled her nose as she blinked up at him.

He held his hand behind his back and his nervous, forced smile revealed his growing fangs.

“Dad,” she shuffled out of his lap, “you need to change back.”

She glanced around the beach quickly, relieved that there was no one nearby to see him.

“No!” He winced when an edge of a reverb tainted his voice. He cleared his throat and waved his other hand dismissively. It had completely turned ebony-violet. “I’m fine! I can hold it for a little long—” he stalled as he glimpsed his other hand and snapped it behind his back too, “—longer.”

Hattie frowned with her brows drooping. His irises radiated golden light as his pupils faded.

“Please. I know I can—” he faltered, pulling his hands back and holding them out before himself. His fingers trembled as they dripped, trying to reconnect. He bit his lip and grimaced when his lengthening fangs jabbed him. The familiar, purple-singed shadows spread from the expanding tips of his chestnut hair.

“It’s okay,” she insisted, turning around and rolling up the sleeves of the hoodie to start cleaning up so that they could head back to camp. She knew he was probably more exhausted than he let on.

“But it’s your birthday,” he whispered in such a broken voice that she felt a world of guilt press against her shoulders.

“And I can still spend it with you as a noodle!” She kept her tone light, giving him a smile strained from her concern.

The gold had encased his eyes and his teeth became backlit by a surging light in his throat. He considered her with tight dismay before scowling.

“No!” He pushed to his feet. “No, I can do this!”

“But, Dad,” Hattie called anxiously, unable to do anything but watch as he paced by the bonfire.

He held his hands out in front of himself, clenching them as he stared daggers into his purple palms. During his pacing, his legs began to quiver, and he paused, hunching as his hair began to drip. His fingers merged into mittens, taking on a gloopy appearance and Hattie thought that that was it, that he would just start getting bigger. She opened her mouth to try and get him to focus on saving his clothes, but the words died in her throat.

“Stop changing,” he wheezed in a wavering voice. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he strained to keep a human shape. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, snuffing out his golden light. The flickering fire cast twisting shadows against his trembling form. His arms lost all pretense of having bones and flopped down like limp noodles. His legs buckled and he thrust out his hand to catch himself.

“Something’s wrong!” Hattie hurried to his side, reaching out as his mitten hand clenching the sand lost its shape entirely and expanded into a puddle.

“N-no,” his reverberating voice gurgled behind globs of dripping purple that stretched across his mouth when he parted his lips. “I can do this!” But just as he said that, he grunted and lurched forward. Viscous liquid oozed from his shoes as his legs melted.

But they didn’t form a tail.

They just pooled out uselessly behind him.

“Dad!” Hattie placed a hand on his arm, but it collapsed under her touch. He let out a strangled cry as his whole arm gave away and he slammed against the beach.

He continued to melt despite his groaning and straining. The trembling shadows spilled from his clothes and into the sand. Panic seized Hattie’s chest as she feared she was going to lose him to the beach. Glancing around frantically, her gaze fell onto the bucket, and she lunged for it.

“Hold on!” Hattie called as she dumped the shells out and slid over to her father, who had gone eerily silent as the pooling liquid oozed and spread.

She dropped the bucket into the sand and quickly tried to shove waves of the viscous liquid inside, catching particles of sand with it. Once half of him filled the rusted bucket and kept spilling out, she righted it before scooping up purple globs. She tossed handful after handful of the soupy remains of her father into the bucket. The trembling sludge sputtered and splashed. Tears stung the corners of her eyes when she saw some liquid darkening and fading into intangible shadows that disappeared into the sand, gone for good.

“Stay with me,” she whispered in a cracking voice as she scooped up every last bit that she could.

After wringing purple from his shirt, pants, and the edges of her sleeves which had tumbled into the puddle a few times, Hattie searched for any of her father’s features in the goop squelching against the edges of the bucket.

“Dad?” She lightly prodded the thick surface of the liquid and it shivered. A muffled groan bubbled up, though no golden light from his eyes or mouth followed. Hattie sighed, sitting back in the sand as she convinced herself that the fact that he had groaned meant he was still there. But now just as soup. In a bucket.

They’ve been through worse, right? This, too, should pass?

“Okay, you just sleep while I clean up,” she muttered as she pushed to her feet.

She collected their things and put out the fire, all the while glancing at the bucket as the goop settled. Once she had the plastic bag slung over her shoulder and her birthday gift tucked into her backpack, she slowly picked up the bucket.

“Oof,” she huffed as she heaved the bucket up, wincing when droplets splashed over the side. “Why is magic goop so heavy? That’s stupid,” she grumbled as she slowly made her way across the dark beach and back to their camping area. As she paused multiple times to give her arms a break and catch her breath, she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and pushed onward.

Luka groaned and on top of the usual reverb that came with his noodle body it sounded oddly like the gurgle of a garbage disposal choking on water. He blinked tired eyes and the golden glow rebounded against the daffodil-yellow inside of Hattie’s baseball cap.

Oh. Had he shrunk down and dozed while Hattie was shopping? That didn’t seem right. Actually, what had he been doing before this?

A surge of panic bubbled up as he recalled trying to hold onto his humanity at the beach. He remembered the tighter he held the form, the more it slipped through his clenched fingers. He heard a slosh of thick liquid when he tried to lift his hand.

He couldn’t lift his hand.

He couldn’t even turn his head! His eyes darted around frantically, catching the rim of some sort of curving, metal wall in the corners of his vision but he could only really look straight up at Hattie’s cap.

“K-ki—” he sputtered as some sort of gunk trickled into his mouth. Expelling wet coughs only caused more of the viscous goop to slip in. His anxious attempts to move coupled with his hyperventilating only increased the panicked sloshing that sounded like puddles disrupted by pricks of rain.

“Dad?” Hattie’s sleepy voice responded.

“H-help I’m—” he gagged on a particularly large glob.

“Hold on!”

He tried to spit out the gunk and a heavy droplet plunked against him. He shivered from the sensation but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Relief swelled when the cap was removed and Hattie looked down at him, with sunlight filtering through the trees. Squinting at the sudden light, he tried to squirm around.

While not happy, she at least looked safe and sound. She wore his delivery cap, and he could see the dangling strings of his hoodie. If the sunlight was any indication, he must have slept through the night. He grimaced, hoping she hadn’t been too uncomfortable or cold without his coil to protect her from the elements.

“What’s going on?” he forced out, feeling like he was talking through a wad of bubblegum.

Hattie sat back, making it harder for him to see her at his angle. He twisted to try to get closer.

“You’re in a bucket,” she answered tiredly. When she glanced up and realized she was wearing his delivery cap, she jolted and swiftly took it off.

“A bucket?” he echoed in distress. His eyes shifted around as he glimpsed the walls and the occasional splash of purple-black goop if he moved too quickly. He blinked.

“Oh my god, I melted.”

“Yeah,” Hattie sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the baggy, purple sleeve. “Are you okay?”

“Um.”

No.

“I’ve been better.” He winced, realizing all the gunk that was getting caught in his mouth was himself. Fantastic.

“Do you need anything?” she prompted with hesitation as she glanced around. “Like water or something?”

“I need to get out of this bucket!” He pushed his eye against the rim, and he felt himself ripple. “Here, dump me out! I can try to—” he coughed, “—pull myself back together.”

“I lost so much of you on the beach though,” Hattie objected. “And y-you just disappeared, like the goopy stuff turned all shadowy.”

He caught the crack in her voice, and frowned, both from hearing how part of him just up and evaporated—okay, a lot of him if what was left of his monstrous noodle form could fit inside a tiny bucket—and from how much he had frightened her.

“I can’t stay like this, though,” he argued. “I have work! And you can’t stay in the woods on your own!” He shifted around, trying to figure out how to stretch his neck or anything but his neck and everything was gone! First, he lost his body and now he lost his monster body? This wasn’t fair! He couldn’t live like this!

In his frustration, he tried to will himself to have arms or hands or even his tail would work. The goop bubbled and frothed, and he grunted from the strain, but he could do it! He could pull himself together!

“Stop!” Hattie commanded. He yelped as he felt small hands jut into the goop and scoop up his features.

He felt himself spread out and winced as strands dripped back down into the bucket with heavy plops. It was like the world and his body were spinning around him, disconnected and far from his grasp as his head remained stagnant but stuck. After blinking and spotting Hattie’s thumb acting as a barrier as trickles of him slipped through the cracks of her fingers, he grounded himself in her frustrated blue gaze.

“If you keep hurting yourself, you’ll just make it worse!” Her nose scrunched up into a hard scowl, but he heard the lump in her throat underneath her irate bite. “Just stop!”

“Sorry,” he gurgled quietly. Her brows furrowed even more, and he added as gently as he could, “I’ll rest, kiddo. I’ll take it easy.”

“Promise?” She stared him down.

“Promise,” he breathed out, slumping.

She lowered him back into the bucket and a soft bloop sound was followed by flickers of drops as she pulled her hands out. He hummed to relieve some distress as he tried to force himself to relax.

“Maybe you just need sleep,” Hattie offered. She grumbled a bit, but he could tell she was trying to soften her tone.

“That’s usually all it is,” he agreed.

He did feel a similar exhaustion to all the times he pushed his time limit and got stuck in noodle form. Only this was much worse. Even when he was a human, he wasn’t sure he could ever remember a time he was so tired that he couldn’t move his muscles.

Leaning his eyes against the rim of the bucket for some semblance of security, he desperately hoped he wouldn’t be stuck like this. But even if he did eventually turn back to monster-normal, he had a sneaking suspicion he really screwed over his already sparse shapeshifting time.

“Do you want me to put the hat back over?” Hattie lifted her cap into his view. “To help you sleep?”

“No,” he said a little quickly. She lowered the hat and he added, sheepishly, “I know I can’t see much from here, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay. Go to sleep. Let me know if you need anything.” She scooted over to their campfire, and he heard the click of the lighter.

He sighed but tried to let the distant crackle of flame and the low tap of Hattie sketching on paper lull him into a semi-relaxed state. His eyes closed into tiny slits and as he dozed, a gentle and continuous rumble bubbled up from within.

“Dad?” Hattie whispered after a stretch of time, scooting back into view and looking down with her hair slipping from behind her ear.

“Hmm?” His eyes cracked open, slowly registering the rumbling sound. In his peripheral vision, the surface of the ebony-violet goop rippled steadily.

Hattie cracked a grin.

“You’re purring!” she said in slight disbelief before exploding into giggles.

“I’m—?” he began before he recognized the familiar and involuntary purr. A dusting of faint gold emanated from beneath the surface of the goop as he blushed.

“The whole bucket is shaking!” Hattie covered her mouth as her laugh trickled out in mirthful chimes.

Despite himself, Luka smiled, glad to hear her laugh.

“I guess it looks pretty silly,” he admitted, imagining the bucket wiggling around. Though now that he was becoming more alert, the rumbling slowed to a stop. In their absence, he realized how comforting the vibrations had been.

Hmm. Maybe the purring was a way to pull himself back together? It wasn’t something he could force or speed up, though. Typical.

“Do you want any food?” Hattie perked after she calmed down from laughing. “I was roasting some hot dogs.”

“I’ll try a bite,” his eyes and mouth shifted up and down in an affirmative nod that sent tiny waves splashing against the side of the bucket.

He couldn’t really tell if he was hungry, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to eat but he would do anything that would help him replenish some energy.

When Hattie returned with a torn piece of a hot dog, Luka opened his mouth and let out a gurgling, “ah.”

With a giggle, she gently lowered the hot dog as close as she could before dropping it. He felt the hot dog plop down and coughed. Hattie winced in apology as he closed his mouth and pensively chewed.

“I’m fine,” he said after a thick swallow. He couldn’t feel the lump of the hot dog anymore but in the past few years of dealing with his magic, goopy body, he learned to not ask questions he couldn’t answer and near the top of that list was wondering what the heck replaced his melted digestive track.

Hattie fed him a few more pieces and he swallowed the dismay of not being able to feed himself. Even though he had grown accustomed to relying on Hattie for help when his chameleon paws couldn’t work with delicate silverware, the familiar sorrow from the early days returned now that he didn’t even have hands.

After what he was certain was a late lunch, he napped on and off as Hattie remained nearby. When he would check in with her, she would present her latest sketches proudly, and even had one completed work in watercolor. It was a scene of the ocean, and while her sketchbook paper wasn’t meant to hold so much moisture, causing it to crinkle and warp when it dried, she excitedly explained that she was going to do other paintings exactly like it, but all showcasing the ocean at different times of the day. He told her that he was eager to see them, overjoyed that she was having fun with her gift like he had hoped she would.

If only he had been able to save up enough for a motel in time for her birthday, or at the very least, if only he hadn’t melted on her. But that was really his fault for pushing himself so hard.

He had just so badly wanted to make it special. She hadn’t even remembered her own birthday! What else was he supposed to do? Let himself turn into a monster? She deserved to have her actual dad on her birthday.

“Hey, Dad?” Her voice drew him out of his sinking despair.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he shifted his eyes in the bucket, trying to find a position that best allowed him to see her.

“What should I tell your boss?” She held out his phone, which was lit up with messages with letters in all caps.

Luka groaned.

“Can you read the messages for me?” He mentally prepared for the nerve-wracking ordeal of trying to explain himself without admitting to his boss that the reason he couldn’t make it to work was because he turned into a bucket of silly putty.

With Luka directing her, Hattie responded to the understandably angry but maybe harsher than necessary texts from his boss at the restaurant. Once that was done, he let out a heavy sigh, accidentally blowing a bubble in the goop, which shortly popped and splattered. He flinched when a drop landed in his eye.

“Do I have anything from the newspaper office?” Luka asked, dreading the thought of not only the manager getting upset when he found out no one had delivered newspapers in the morning, but of all the people who would no doubt call to complain about empty doorsteps.

“No,” Hattie replied slowly.

“Really?” Luka wasn’t sure if he should count that as good or bad. Either way, he was probably out of a job. “I’ll need to start looking for something else.”

“Why?” Hattie scooted closer, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked down at him.

“They’ve probably already decided to fire me,” he lamented with his mouth sinking and gurgling in the gunk.

“Nah.” She glanced away, tapping around on his phone.

He blinked up at her.

“Nah?” he repeated. When Hattie kept her gaze down and her lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. “Hattie? What did you do?”

“I maybe did your deliveries for you?” she offered guiltily.

He stared at her.

“You what?” he sputtered, causing his sludge to ripple as panic seized him. “By yourself? Hattie! You just turned eight! My route is a couple miles long, and you would have had to bike before dawn! There are child labor laws! What do you mean you did my deliveries?”

“I had help!” Hattie hurried to explain. “I ran into a nice tourist I met yesterday, and he gave me a map and delivered half of the newspapers for me.”

“You worked with a stranger?” Luka demanded, shifting around in the bucket. “Harriet Princeton, you are not supposed to talk to strangers!”

“So, I’m only supposed to talk to you?” She threw her hands up in the air.

“No! I mean—that’s not the point!” he faltered, sloshing around as the bite in her words stung. Bits of goop splattered over the rim and Hattie jolted.

“Stop freaking out!” She helplessly tried to grasp at the stray droplets. “I can’t lose you again!”

He paused, tensing. Well, tensing as much as he could as a viscous liquid.

“Wh-what do you mean lose me again?” he pressed tightly.

“I thought you were gone when you melted,” she said with a cracking voice. She hugged her legs and rest her chin on her knees. “I thought I didn’t get all of you in time and you were gone, and I just wanted to help because you’re so tired all time but—” she trailed off in a squeak as tears filled her eyes.

“Hattie—” he shifted towards her, but the goop sputtered as he instinctively tried to reach out to his daughter. Liquid stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly. “Hattie, look at me please.”

She turned and revealed tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gold blurred his vision, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry,” he began in a congested voice, thick with gunk and reverb. “I know you were just trying to help, and I appreciate it! But I don’t want you worrying about my jobs or money. You shouldn’t have to.”

His voice cracked and all too late, he realized that the reason he sounded so congested was partly because of the golden tears filling the bucket. They glittered in the goop, separated like oil drops in water. His breath hitched and the goop swelled.

“But I can—” he tried to continue as the tears slipped out and the goop splashed up when he instinctively tried to wipe them away with a hand that wasn’t there.

“You’re spilling!” Hattie interrupted, jolting upward and hurrying over, placing her arms around the rim but the added tears were causing his anxious sloshing to spill over. “Stop crying!”

“What?” He jolted, shifting his eyes around and catching glimpses of purple and gold staining her sleeves. Her dismayed features above him only encouraged his tears and he made a muffled sniffling noise as panic surged and his tears swelled.

“Dad!” she yelped. But her own distraught features cleaved through his squishy, melted chest.

“I-I can’t! Give me a moment!” Twisting away, he tried to lock his eyes on something to ground himself, but in his panic, he kept attempting to turn and wipe his tears. The spilling goop sloshed uncontrollably.

“Try to laugh!” Hattie begged. “Tell me a stupid joke!”

“Ah, uh.” He pressed his lips into a tight line as he struggled to think of something. “Um. You know what? This situation really pails in comparison to—uh—that one time we teleported into that bear den!”

“What?” Hattie furrowed her brows. But it looked like her tears halted in confusion.

“P-pails, like a pun? It’s a joke. It’s supposed to be funny. Please laugh,” he said weakly. He blinked and let out a tight exhale as he felt himself calm and the rest of the goop start to settle.

“That’s a stupid joke.” Hattie sniffled as she leaned back and slowly lifted her arms, revealing sleeves soaked with purple sludge.

“I got buckets of them.” He added a sardonic, “ha,” as the gold ebbed. While a few dancing droplets of tears wiggled in his goop, now that he was calmer, trembling splashes no longer spilled over the rim.

Hattie wrung out the sleeves. He flinched at the droplets that pelted his face and sent ripples along the surface.

“That’s even worse,” she sighed, though a small smile found its way onto her features. She tugged up one of her sleeves and gingerly reached over and wiped at the edge of his eye.

He grunted, squeezing it shut but when she pulled away, he watched her flick a golden droplet towards the grass. He sighed, blowing a few bubbles.

“Please don’t do my job tomorrow,” he said quietly. “We’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly before thinking better of it.

“Only if you promise not to push yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” he said tiredly before he yawned. Sludge dribbled into his mouth, and he sputtered.

“Sleep.” She poked the goop. He shifted his eyes next to her finger, which was the closest he could come to giving her an encouraging nuzzle.

“What about you?” he asked, staring up at the canopy of leaves. There was still sunlight trickling down, but it seemed fainter.

“I can eat soon,” she shrugged.

“Wake me if you need anything,” he muttered, feeling his eyelids grow heavy.

Did he even have eyelids at this point? Maybe it was more that his eyes were sinking. Might be more apt.

Hattie promised to, but he had a feeling they both knew she would deal with any problem on her own before waking him. Frowning, he supposed the best thing he could do for her would be to recover as swiftly as possible.

He settled into the bucket, and soon enough, the sludge began to ripple as he automatically purred. He caught Hattie’s stifled snort at the vibrating bucket before he fell asleep.

Night blanketed the forest by the time he woke up again. Still purring, he blinked as he felt something shift. The rippling rumbles of goop seemed to be tightening and when he moved to lift his head, he peeked over the rim of the bucket. Relief swelled inside as he spotted Hattie’s back. She was drawing by the fire, safe and sound.

Edging backward, he tilted his head down, blinking at the vibrating goop as it slowly re-solidified into shape. After a moment, he lifted his noodle arms and wiggled his chameleon paws. Funny, he was actually relieved to see them for once. Once his tail formed, he heaved out a sigh. There wasn’t a drop of him left behind in the bucket, but now he took up less volume.

“Kiddo,” he called softly, floating up to the rim of the bucket and placing his hands on the edge, curling his tail beneath himself.

“Dad!” Hattie gasped when she saw his familiar form. Scrambling around, she darted over, and he flew up into her embrace.

“You’re tiny,” she muttered into the plush fluff around his neck. His tail waved back and forth as he returned her firm hug.

“I’m sure I’ll get back to normal size,” he guessed. Probably. After a long enough rest without using his shapeshifting.

Moments passed until he caught a low grumble coming from Hattie’s stomach. He craned his neck with a smirk.

“In the meantime, are there anymore marshmallows to share?”

“I ate them all. Remember our math quiz? Zero left.” Hattie said without missing a beat as she turned back around and brought him to the fireside. “Just kidding, I saved you some.”

“That’s my girl!” His tail waved harder as he chuckled.

He extended an arm towards the bag, noting that he couldn’t really stretch it like usual, and made a grasping motion. Hattie plopped the bag into her lap, still using an arm to hug him, and they both took turns popping the confections into their mouths.

Yes, after a week’s worth of rest, he would grow to his usual massive size and when he could shapeshift again, he would have to deal with the consequences of missing so much work. But until then, he and Hattie would take it day by day and one marshmallow at a time.

#ahit coffee shop au #doodledrawsthings #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #my writing #*kickflips into ur tumblr experience wearing rubber fishing suspenders and a cap that says 'words want me. ghost dads fear me'*#Me: Bucket's haunted #You probably: What?#Me not breaking eye contact as i grab a pail and head for the exit: Bucket's haunted #this got very long whoops #but i hope its a fun read!#thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Lil' Mia and Miranda thing since I dragged you guys down the rarepair hell with me~

---

Lab equipment was really not meant to blend well within a lived-in home. And it didn't. The plush carpet on top of wooden floors giving way to the smooth lab flooring that squeaked under boots not appropriate for the setting created an odd contrast. Not that that was uncharacteristic for Miranda, any of her workspaces falling perfectly under the description of an organized mess, with particular emphasis on mess.

With Rose sleeping peacefully in the room generously, suspiciously so, provided by Miranda, Mia decided to stretch her legs by walking around the manor, the baby monitor connected to her phone. The building was relatively big, albeit quite old, tucked in the woods somewhere between the Beneviento house and the factory, with a tunnel conveniently connecting it to the labs running under the town. It had close to no spatial organization, bedrooms and labs and storage rooms alternating by patterns known only by the so-called goddess, or most likely not even by her.

Mia did not trust the woman. Not with the memories of the prison cell and the kidnapping of her daughter for experiments still fresh in her mind. But, the tiredness of motherhood and the odd loneliness that came with being the only two inhabitants of the house that were capable of coherent speech as of now, had her longing for some company.

It was an easy task finding Miranda, the soft cries of Eva guiding her down a short hallway to a lab door left ajar. Inside, the woman was sat at a desk, a laptop with half written reports and notes in front of her, pushed out of the grasp of the fussing infant in her arms. Miranda was far too busy trying to calm her daughter down enough to fall asleep to notice Mia leaning on the doorframe, curiously observing the scene. Oddly human, in her failing attempt to get her child to stop crying, when at any given time she could get anyone to kneel before her and bend over backwards to her every whim. Yet a small infant was giving her so much trouble.

"Need a hand?" Mia offered with a small chuckle. Should she even offer her help?

"I am fine thank you." But a slightly louder wail from Eva came with perfect timing to disprove her words.

Miranda's shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly as her eyes closed slowly, the usual makeup replaced by dark circles, testimony to the long hours spent going through decades of research and reports while also caring for her newly reborn daughter. It was oddly bittersweet, to see a woman so dignified otherwise all but beg the small child to go to sleep so she could finish her work.

Work, Mia concluded, that was rather essential for the whole place, and also her home for now, to continue existing the way it was. With a sigh she walked up to the desk and gently stoked Eva's short brunette hair. "Here, let me hold her. At least until you finish typing whatever it is you're doing," she said waving a hand in the direction of the forgotten computer, who's screen had turned black by now.

There were a few long seconds of hesitation, but a weary glance at the mountain of files on the other side of the desk that she was yet to go through convinced Miranda to finally allow her daughter slip into Mia's arms. It took maybe five minutes of cooing and a one sided conversation made in silly voices to turn the cries into giggles, small hands trying to grasp at Mia's finger that was ticklishly caressing puffy cheeks. Exhausted from crying, Eva's eyes slowly fluttered shut and she was gingerly lowered into a crib set by the desk, one of the many scattered around the house.

Miranda watched the scene unfold with uncharacteristic softness slipping by the icy mask of her steely eyes. Even goddesses can be caught by surprise it seemed, and whether it was due to the apparent skills that Mia had with calming Eva down or at how she was willing to help despite their precarious position was up to debate.

"Shouldn't you be better at this," Mia asked, pulling one of the chairs closer to sit in. "I know it's been, what, two or three centuries or something but haven't you done this before?"

Her question was obviously poking fun for the most part, but Miranda couldn't help the tired sigh that crawled its way from the depths of her now useless lungs.

"No, actually. I haven't," she responded curtly as she grabbed one of the files and opened it in order to transcribe its contents in a digital file. "At least not on my own," she added upon remembering the numerous subjects she helped raise during her time working with The Connections.

"Oh? Did you have a sweet loving husband once upon a time? Do tell me more," Mia said leaning her chin on her palms as if she were a teenager at a sleepover talking about crushes, although the memory of Ethan clawing its way to the forefront of her thoughts made her grimace slightly, until she pushed it back down in the depths of her mind.

It was foolish perhaps, acting like that around a woman that could, and would with the right motivation, kill her in the blink of an eye. Truth be told though, Mia was bored out of her mind, so what better way to pass the time than push Miranda's buttons, especially when she seemed too tired to retaliate.

The so-called goddess grimaced, at least ten different reasons to find the thought outrageous flashing through her mind and, settling on the most obvious one, looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "I was a nun."

Mia leaned back in her chair, looking at the black head covering hanging from a hook behind the door, together with black robes. She had to wonder if they were the same ancient ones or if she replaced them every once in a while.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell," she chuckled. "A nun turned goddess. How ironic don't you think."

"Worshipping was never quite up my alley. And neither were men," she replied flatly, turning the pages in front of her and typing the relevant information in the file she had open on the screen.

Mia's eyes widened slightly with an amused oh. "So was she raised by the convent then?"

Was this information really to be given out? Mirada did not like talking about her past, or personal information in general. Gods did not need backstories, they simply were.

She sighed. "No, no. Her parents died when she was four and with nobody else to look for her, she was brought to us." Miranda gave a small shrug, pausing to type up decades old results on lycans. "I was the newest there, so the nuns dumped her on me. I was so mad at first, but she's always been such a brilliant little girl, even back then. She would ask for a bedtime story and did not complain when I'd start reading from one of the medical books I stole from the merchant. There was just something about her that made her grow on me."

With the paragraph done, she pushed her chair back, quietly so as to not have its legs scratch against the linoleum floor, and walked to another, smaller desk pushed against a wall. From there, she walked back to the crib where the small infant was sleeping peacefully, a small doll in hand. Doll that Mia recognized immediately, as an identical one was by her own daughter's sleeping form, back in their room. It was a small replica of Angie, plush and soft to the touch, unlike its real life wooden counterpart, the white dress made of delicate silk. Both toys had been made by Donna herself as gifts.

"But as you can guess, she was well past a toddler when she was placed in my care," Miranda finished, leaving the doll just by her sleeping daughter's side.

"So you suck with babies," Mia concluded with a grin. She would have laughed, but had enough clarity of mind to be quiet.

Miranda simply gave her a tired glare before rolling her eyes. She went back to her desk and opened a new file to be transcribed, this one on the reservoir's structure.

"I can care for them," she started, an odd almost imperceptible strain in her voice. "It just gets trickier when it's my own daughter and not an act."

Mia nodded absent mindedly, eyes darting to Eva. To see a woman with such power and ruthlessness, who could level the whole town to the ground if she so pleased, show such raw genuine affection towards the child made some of the notions in her brain crumble to the ground. Miranda was still the same woman who, ironically enough, experimented on more children than she cared to count, but then again Mia was also a willing participant in said experiments so was she really that much better?

She definitely was, Mia concluded, choosing to ignore a small pang at her heart when she watched all the ice in those gray eyes melt into tenderness while looking at her daughter. Instead, she started toying with one of the many pens scattered on the desk.

"Since I'm staying here, I don't mind helping you out with her," Mia said quietly, keeping her eyes on the small giraffe doodle she was doing on a napkin.

It wasn't for Miranda's sake really. She simply wanted the best for Eva, the child completely innocent unlike the atrocities committed by her mother throughout the last few centuries. Besides, it would be nice for Rose to have a friend not unlike herself, given the yet to be understood power both girls possessed.

"There's no need-"

"Consider it a thank you for letting us stay here, without a sniper pointing at my daughter's head at all times," Mia finished, a slither of ire slipping into her tone on the last words, the memory of a rookie agent panicking and pointing his gun to Rose for the unforgivable crime of being a hungry crying child seared behind her eyelids.

Miranda sighed, an odd sense of relief washing over her. After centuries of trying to bring her back, you'd think the she would do anything to spend each and every second with Eva, not letting anyone else care for her in any capacity, but truth be told, the prospect of not facing motherhood completely alone, even if Mia was helping her solely out of some sense of obligation, did not sound half bad.

"As you wish," she finally said, going back to the half written paragraph her mind drifted away from minutes earlier.

#mother miranda x mia #mia winters #fanfic #my art

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prompt-master · 4 years

Text

Bear Trap (Part 1/3)

Request fill for @hibiscuswolverine and art done by @doodles-by-noodles

The world was starting to heal.

Little by little, everyone who survived Hope's Peak Academy's killing game was bringing about change to the world. It had only just started, and they likely wouldn't live to see their vision fully realized, but there was hope. Hope the world hadn't seen since the tragedy broke out in the first place.

Yep, Naegi Makoto had a lot of work to do, but he also already had so much to be proud of. He and the survivors had already proven themselves to adapt to a world that was nothing like the one they left behind. They had been given a warning from Enoshima Junko herself, but even with the knowledge of killer robots and rampaging despair-induced rioters nothing could really prepare them for life on the outside.

Honestly, they had never expected to make it to where they were right now. Proud members of the Future Foundation, able to work together with the higher ups to take down the biggest threats against the world's progression. It felt like just yesterday they were sleeping in the rubble of what once were apartments, tightly packed together in case anything were to break in. And now Makoto stood proud and tall, going over his next mission on video call with a member of one of the higher divisions.

"I suppose I shouldn't be terribly surprised that the Ultimate Hope would be so adamant on these matters."

Makoto smiled, still as strong and inspiring as it had been back in the killing game, "Really, you don't have to call me that. I'm nothing special, just Naegi is fine."

She completely ignored him, looking over the notes he'd sent to her one last time. He and Aoi had accidentally discovered a distress call from a group of survivors in an unsafe area. There was no way he could ignore something like that, he wouldn't ignore any possibility that someone was suffering like his class did. Even if there was an equal possibility that it was a trap.

"Well, your plan asks for Ultimate Detective Kirigiri Kyoko and Ultimate Affluent Progeny Togami Byakuya to go with you. With those two, plus the Ultimate Hope, equipped with hacking guns then I see no reason to be concerned for any mishaps. Your mission is approved."

Makoto's smile widened at that, feeling a rush of pride and hope at her words, "We won't let you down! Promise!"

She didn't even look up at him, simply humming to let him know she heard. But he could tell, there was a slight smile on her face. Makoto managed to melt his fair share of hearts even if he couldn't explain how. The call blinked off, and Makoto shut his laptop gently, but with no regard to what it was running.

He let out a loud sigh, slouching back into his chair. Any and all office calls felt so nerve wracking. Each one held its own weight in importance. Every exchange oversaw the future. He pulled his arms over his head, stretching them as far as they could go.

He could already feel himself getting pumped up. A small, prideful smirk snuck it's way onto his face. The plan wasn't anything extreme, but he knew with his friends by his side it would all be ok. They were meant to go together in a group so that they could protect themselves in the event of a trap or other unforeseen circumstances. The distress call came from a fallen city mostly blocked off by a collapsed building. They would drop off inside the city's bounds, and continue on foot to find any survivors they could. They knew there would be some despaired within, but that was a given anywhere they went now.

It would all be worth it to save them.

Now he just had to tell Byakuya and Kyoko the good news

It was clear to anyone near the survivors that Byakuya, Kyoko, and Makoto were a force to be reckoned with. While the general public has no qualms with calling Makoto the leader of the group, it was more so all three of them were coleading. Each taking charge in their own way, from the start of their new lives to now. The three of them were all incredibly smart in their own ways and their combined skills lead to a team that could likely conquer any despair they faced. But it took an even closer eye to see the emotional connection the three shared with each other.

Makoto walked in front, leading since he had heard the distress call in the first place. It was certainly an interesting relationship that the three had. Although Makoto certainly didn't see himself as the leading type it seemed that Byakuya and Kyoko both trusted his guidance entirely. And he did the same for them. There was no way to describe the significance that lay underneath the floorboards of their bond. For the two most emotionally shut off of the survivors to so openly trust him? To Makoto that was enough to lay their hearts out in the open for him to see. And not to mention…

Makoto glanced back at the two. Byakuya was messing around with his hacking gun, glasses slipping down his nose, and hair nearly hiding his eyes from Makoto's view. Kyoko was taking in her surroundings, trying to figure out sooner rather than later if this whole thing was just a trap as suspected. Her eyes may be void of emotion but the color and warmth was vast. Makoto faced forward again, his face feeling just a bit hot.

They were both really pretty.

No, no he can't focus on his silly crushes. Yes, crushes plural. Because Makoto's sensitive heart was so big he managed to give it away to two different people. That didn't matter right now though, because the focus was on the mission.

The town was about as decimated as it looked from the outside. It reminded him of his first experiences out in the new world, making him wonder how many survivors might be hiding under rubble, scared to come out. So far they hadn't run into any sort of trouble. No robots, no despaired, no survivors. There was really...nothing here. It was starting to look more and more like a trap.

Makoto stopped walking at a split path, "The call said to find the convenience store but...I can't tell where to go since everything's been destroyed."

Byakuya came to stand by his side, "Not that it should matter much all things considered. Let's just get this over with so we can clear out those insane idiots and rebuild this place already."

"Togami-kun!" Makoto pouted, Byakuya may have softened up but he still had a habit of harsh thinking first, "don't say that. I'm sure there has to be someone here who needs saving. There's people who need to be rescued everywhere we go!"

"Indeed" Kyoko chimed in, "but it's not a bad line of thought. If we stage a rebuilding operation here then that increases our chances of finding survivors then if only a search team walked around."

Byakuya smirked, pushing up his glasses in that annoyingly arrogant way of his, "And to do that, we need to weed out the problems first no?"

"Yes...yes we do."

"Besides what would you rather do? Try to talk to the despaired? And get clubbed again?"

"It was one time, Togami-kun!"

Byakuya laughed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked around, "Come now, this way. All these buildings are too destroyed to make any sort of distinctions regardless. And by your sentimental logic we should be checking more than just the given location, wouldn't you agree."

Byakuya didn't wait for an answer, he walked ahead to begin searching the first building to their left. Makoto had to break into a light jog to catch up to him; damn your long legs Togami!

That marked the start of their exploration, building after building. They found nothing. Not to mention everywhere seemed like it has been residential, no sign of the store they were told the survivors were. Even Makoto felt like something was a little bit off but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Regardless he kept up hope, he had heard those survivors speak with complete clarity in their voice. They had to be here. He wouldn't give up over a simple bad feeling.

Byakuya stepped over broken glass, moving further into the crumpled home he was currently inspecting. A surprisingly intact kitchenette caught his eye, and decided a thorough search was necessary without telling his company. Although they didn't need much prompting to understand when he went off trail again. Kyoko thought if he was going to focus on possible material goods stored away in this forgotten piece of life, then she could at least see if there was any current piece of life hiding away as well. Makoto stood at the door of the house. He'd given nothing more than a glance to Byakuya before turning toward the outdoors again. Looking for anything. Any sign of life lurking under the foreboding red sky.

Nothing.

He sighed, turning his attention down to what used to be a grass area. Not much was left of that, in fact it looked almost like any plant life besides the weeds in the street cracks were...set on fire. The ground had this grey ashy feeling to it. And when Makoto scuffed it with his shoe….yeah, that was definitely the remains of something burning. That was a good sign right? It meant that someone was alive. This couldn't have been that long ago.

Makoto opened his mouth to call for his friends, when a cold hand slapped over his mouth and forcefully tugged him backwards.

Huh

Huh?!

Makoto was immediately kicking and yelling. He bucked like a disturbed wild animal, trying everything he could to get out. Wiggling, kneeing, elbowing, even trying to bite the hand over his mouth but none disturbed the individual. The house was getting farther and farther away but his voice was too muffled to ever reach it. There was heavy breathing in his ear, the air wet and warm against his skin in a way that made his body shudder. He forced himself to look up at his kidnapper. An individual with a wide smile on their face and eyes that spoke of a spiraling psyche. Everything about them...from their expression to their actions to their lack of reaction to pain...it all said despair.

Eventually Makoto was dragged into the street and thrown down like a slab of meat. Makoto was about to scream again for help, when a hand quickly reached out for him. He couldn't help but flinch back, shoulders bunching up in an attempt to shrink away. His tie was yanked off, the force pulling his body upwards. When the tie snapped off he fell back again, he could feel rocks digging into his skin from the fall. Then his hands were tied behind his back. This was bad. This was so bad. Bad didn't even BEGIN to cover it.

His captor came uncomfortably close, having lost all concept of personal space in the madness the end of the world has provided. Makoto tried his best to keep calm as they placed their arms to either side of him so that they were above, staring down below. There was a tense moment where neither moved, they simply tried to catch their breaths so that the silence would stop being filled with panting. It felt like a test. Like they were waiting for him to even dare to try to escape. They wanted to show Makoto what happened when he disobeyed! He could see it in their eyes! In the manicale look, in the smile that kept opening and closing like a strange gutted fish. The way their arms trembled and shook by Makoto's head, just waiting with the high of excitement.

Arms still shaking, mouth overflowing with spittle and pupils pinprick sharp, they began to slowly lower themselves. Makoto held his breath, willing his body to sink further into the concrete. His heels scraped against the ground, but he willed himself not to move in fear that any sign of escape would reward him with a slit throat. Their noses pressed against each other. The captor let out a shaky relieved sigh, as if the contact was the greatest thing they'd felt in a long time. Their eyelids fell half lidded, their smirk from excited to downright sadistic.

"I've got you now, Mr. Ultimate Hope."

Stay calm. You've dealt with this kind of person before.

Makoto's nails gave a tug as he ran them against the concrete in an attempt to ground himself, dirt filling the space between skin and keratin. His heart hammered in his chest as if he were a scared rabbit, but there was no time to panic here. His life depended on it. The despaired were completely delusional...which meant..

Makoto felt a laugh rise out of him, nervous and high in pitch. A bit too high in pitch. He scraped the ground again, enough so that it began to hurt from the force. Calm down. Stay fucking calm.

"Heh...heheh! Yeah! You got me..!" A smile graced his face, "what did you...get me for?"

They pulled back, but not enough so that the pungent smell of smoke and ash left Makoto's nose. Their head tilted, daring to make an innocent face, "You know who you are, right?"

"I do. And who are you?"

Their body moved back and forth as they laughed with everything they had, their knees closing in so that Makoto could feel it against his leg. "Me? Me? Mememe?? Forget that! You're the Ultimate Hope!"

"That's right…"

"I wonder what Miss Junko would say right now. Seeing you pinned down like this?" Their eyes flickered to the sky at the fantasy that no doubt filled their mind.

Makoto tried his hardest not to cringe, and just attempted to change the subject instead, "Do you want me to do something for you?" It was a loaded question. One that made Makoto feel like he was picking all the wrong dialogue choices.

"I do!"

Progress. He wasn't sure if it was good progress, but it was, in fact, progress.

"What's that?"

Their voice dropped to a whisper, waning and cracking in excitement once again. They reached into their pocket.

"I want you to watch this"

They pulled out a little remote that looked horribly put together. Even with how much their hand trembled he could see that it was made of what seemed to be the remains of a torn apart scrap pile. Before Makoto could ask what they meant, they pressed the only button built in.

What ensued was a large explosion.

------

BOOM

A loud eardrum breaking noise filled the previous silence. Byakuya was forced to grip the kitchen countertop as the world around him shook, a sudden intense burst of wind following soon after. The heat uncomfortable against his face. He made his way to the open wall, Kyoko not far behind him.

"Was that an explosion?" Kyoko asked, not wanting to waste any time.

Byakuya looked outside at the smoke and fire that overtook the sky. It was suffocating just to look at. Shit, it was definitely a trap then. "Looks like it"

They watched frozen, transfixed on the horror as a building toppled from where it was standing, joining the others as rubble for them to walk on. They still stayed in place. They knew there was nothing they could do to prevent or help the issue.

Byakuya was so focused on the sight, thinking about how he had to call for an early pick up that he didn't even notice until Kyoko asked.

"Where's Naegi?"

------

Makoto gasped and gasped as he ran for his life. After whatever that person had rigged went off he found himself surprisingly not being pinned anymore as the person sat cackling nearby. He had managed to slip away when more despaired came over and argued with the individual who had been pinning him. Now he was running as fast as he could hoping he wouldn't get caught once again.

He struggled against his traitorous tie, feeling it chafe against his wrists uncomfortably. Untying it would have been enough of a challenge without the running aspect. Now he found himself tripping over his own feet trying to think about the two things at once.

Before he knew it, his feet had slipped right out from under him and he barely caught himself before faceplanting.

Taking the fall as a hint, he stopped to catch his breath, looking around the area to gauge where he was. It seemed like more of the same until he saw a rather structurally sound convenience store. It was surprisingly big too for how little damage it had. A smile overtook his face. Aren't I lucky? Maybe the people inside can help me get this dang tie off.

After letting his breathing calm down he made his way toward the store. Elation filled his heart, a familiar hope that kept him going. He knew it couldn't have all been a trap! Almost there now. Once inside he'd have someone untie his hands, and then he'd find his friends and-

His friends. He hoped Byakuya and Kyoko were safe. He had no idea how far the damage of the explosion traveled, but if it was enough to collapse an entire building there was certainly the risk of them being in hot water. Not to mention the multiple despaired that were walking around, who knows what sort of danger they could walk into. Then again, if anyone was capable of holding their own it would be Byakuya and Kyoko. But he should probably focus on his own safety instead of imagining Byakuya and Kyoko taking down their enemies in the most attractive way possible-

He was right there. He'd reached the convenience store. All the windows were covered up so that he couldn't see inside, but he knew someone inside was waiting. He just had to- huh? What's that?

Makoto looked down to see a familiar, very unwelcome sight. It was a Monokuma with yellow and black stripes. At the top of its head was a red siren. And they were making eye contact.

"Shi-"

Instinctively he reeled back at the loud, sharp noise. The sound raised and lowered it's pitch smoothly, reminding him of tsunami drills he had to do back when he was in school and the implications it brought were similarly horrifying.

So much for being lucky. Makoto felt himself panicking again, the siren was loud enough to hurt his ears. He couldn't tell if his ears were ringing or if the siren was just that obnoxious. But he didn't have time to complain about that. The noise and the light… no doubt others would be coming soon.

"Shh...shhhh!! Stop it!" He couldn't break the machine with his hands the way they were...he had to settle for getting help.

Makoto stopped in his tracks before he could approach the door of the convenience store however, because there was someone watching him through the window. They'd opened the curtain to check what the commotion was. Makoto saw no madness or instability in their eyes...the survivors really WERE here. Makoto smiled, wishing he could wave and gesture for help, but he had to hope his expression was enough.

The survivor frowned, eyes fixated on the Siren Monokuma. Without looking at Makoto again they closed the curtain.

No one was coming to help.

Makoto backed away. That's ok. There was still a chance. If he ran quick enough maybe he could get away before reinforcements arrived.

The growling he heard mocked his fruitless thoughts. That was the deranged sounds a Beast Monokuma made…he couldn't hope to outrun one of those. They were like real rabid bears but worse because they never got tired. They never stopped running once they had you in its sights, just like this one.

But Makoto tried anyway to flee, only to end up taking a riot shield to the face from a Guard Monokuma.

"Oof!"

He fell back hard feeling all air leave his lungs. The snarling and pounding of the Beast Monokuma was getting louder. Too loud. Makoto rolled onto his side, scrambling to get up. He winced as a claw grazed his cheek, first blood of the night welling up.

He felt like an insignificant worm with how he desperately rolled on the floor, hoping to find good enough footing in his panic to stand. But when he got to his knees he was met with another riot shield. He almost didn't react in time to dodge another slash from the Beast, managing to get the tie around his wrists cut.

He'd never gotten to his feet so quickly before in his life. Bits of gravel stuck to his palms and blood ran down his right arm. He scrambled to find something -anything- to defend himself with, but he was already surrounded. It was too late to even bother going for the Siren Monokuma. How the hell was he supposed to-?

He yelled out as sharp metal claws dug into his back, seemingly deep enough that he feared for his spine. The claws rake along his back as the beast removes them. If that wasn't enough to bring him back to reality, he was quickly overwhelmed, bruises being beaten into every inch of his skin from the shields, and slashes from regular Monokuma's on his arms. And worse of all the Beast Monokuma that was trying its best to chomp his head off with it's twitchy manic movements. He tried his best to fend it off, pushing at it personally with his bare hands despite the continuous relentless assault he was receiving.

Another good hit with a shield and his hands slipped. In a split second moment that he didn't even get to think about, he reached a leg up and kicked at its face. He only had a moment of victory.

It bit down on his leg and didn't let go.

Now the interesting thing about Makoto is that even though he doesn't seem capable, he's grown to be able to keep himself calm when it mattered. Even at his own execution, where he was slowly heading towards his untimely demise, With frequent reminders of what was about to come, he had managed to keep as calm as possible. Even well he fell stories down into the garbage. He refused to make a peep and panic when every one of his friends could see. But right now no friends were watching.

Naegi Makoto screamed.

-----

"I'm going to kill Naegi my damn self for running off when we find him." Byakuya was, as per usual, annoyed as hell.

Kyoko sighed, "Calm down. I'm sure there's a reason, you know he isn't like that."

Byakuya rolled his eyes, but didn't say a word. Kyoko was completely right, but he would never give her the satisfaction of admitting that. His silence was enough.

They had made way for the source of the explosion only to find the path to the other side of the city was completely blocked off by the collapsed structure. Due to the closed off nature of the cities remains that left them with only one option: go the long way around and hope those entrances aren't blocked as well.

When it was just Kyoko and Byakuya there was always this weird silence. Sometimes comfortable, sometimes tense. Makoto was always the one to fill it, he was like the bridge between the two. Kyoko wished he could tell Byakuya to cheer up -his attitude was getting on her nerves- but Makoto's absence was the whole reason for it in the first place.

"Keep your guard up" she reminded, her own hand staying close to the pouch strapped to her thigh. Inside was an all weather purpose mini notepad and a handheld taser. She quite liked her taser, it was both heavy hitting and satisfied Makoto's wish to not kill anyone: even the despaired. "I'm certain that explosion was rigged up by a person."

Byakuya scoffed, "I am Togami Byakuya" he kindly reminded her. Kyoko rolled her eyes, she'd heard that way too many times to count. "My guard is always up and my reaction time is perfect. Maybe you should worry about yourself instead."

"Incorrigible as usual, I see."

He glared back down at her, still walking forward with overconfident strides, "I'll have you know-"

There it is. Another rant which consisted only of Byakuya boasting about his own skills. She shut him out without a second thought, focusing on her surroundings instead. It's not as though Byakuya would provide any sort of new information anyway.

"Wait." She interrupted, which Byakuya hated, but his feelings be damned, "do you hear that?"

Byakuya paused, facing towards the direction she was looking. There was a sound in the distance, something familiar. It was far, but if he focused hard enough he could figure it out.

Kyoko and Byakuya looked at each other, both having recognized the siren's undeniable screech at the same time. With a nod, they began to run. Makoto or not, whoever was caught by that Siren Monokuma was in danger. Byakuya steadied his hacking gun in his hand and Kyoko effortlessly pulled her taser from it's bounds. Despite their great desire to find Makoto meer seconds ago, they hoped that anyone else would be caught by the Monokuma's. But, this was Makoto after all.

It took an undetermined amount of time for them to loop around to the convenience store, but the time spent felt uncomfortably long to them both. When they did arrive they found it was a chaotic mess. There was a group of Monokuma's huddled together over one unseen person. There was blood scraped across the concrete as though someone was dragged with their horrible injuries and all. But there were no sounds of a struggle. The sight was more akin to school yard bullies gathering to kick a victim than a genuine fight.

Without wasting much time Byakuya fired at the Siren Monokuma, destroying it without a second thought. "Damn noise was getting on my nerves" He said.

Kyoko shook her head, "Focus" she pointed her nose towards the pile up. Byakuya's uncaring attitude toward the situation showed that he believed the person was already dead. One by one the machines fell apart or destroyed themselves. And in their wake was a small, bloodied mess in human shape. The smell of copper and the sickening sight of messy pink was one they had gotten all too used to over the years. But that didn't make it easier when you recognized one of those bodies as someone you cared about.

Byakuya felt harsh, furious breaths of air pushing in and out of his nose. The action was an almost unconscious response. He couldn't help but let anger well up at the sight of Naegi Makoto laying on the ground curled up on his side.

He grit his teeth, "Is he…?" Dammit. A Togami didn't hesitate. Certainly not Byakuya.

"No." Kyoko's voice was barely more than a whisper, and for a split second he thought she was simply in denial. But no, she had caught sight of Makoto's chest moving up and down. She made way to him, hands hovering over him unsure of how deep his injuries ran. The first thing she saw were vicious claw marks running down his back. There were bits of debris clinging to the wound. They were ugly and jagged things. She wanted to roll him onto his back to get a better look at him but was it even safe to move him at all? She didn't want to risk paralyzing him. Not to mention she'd be pressing his wound to the ground. She glanced to his leg. A complete mangled mess, she could tell the unit that attached itself to his leg was relentless in its attack. Shaking and thrashing and the like. The fabric that once covered his leg was all but torn to shreds leaving the whole injury on brutal display. There was blood pooling underneath where he lay on the ground. His skin was pale from blood loss, breaking into a cold sweat that made her certain shock was already setting in. Almost all exposed skin was blossoming into a different, unnatural color indicating a plethora of bruises. His breathing was quiet but heavy, he'd already lost a lot of blood. When her eyes finally trailed up to his face she felt a small bit of relief that his features were marred by only a small cut on his left cheek, with a lazy stream of blood pouring from it.

Byakuya and Kyoko were two individuals with a massive disconnect of their emotions brought about by their upbringing. Byakuya turned any emotion he felt into anger and disdain. Kyoko snuffed out most emotions she felt so that nothing would show. They had the emotional resolve of steel, it wasn't easy breaking down their walls. Makoto was that strange part of the equation that ruined all of that. He managed to get Byakuya to be intrigued by someone so seemingly insignificant and he managed to get Kyoko to act pouty and almost childish during the game. Yes, their entire lives were spent crafting these defenses. And now they had to fight to keep it all together with only elmers glue in their arsenal.

Kyoko was up close and personal with all the gruesome details of his attack. She tried to shove it all down so that she could completely focus on ensuring Makoto's survival. But he was looking up at her with a dazed half lidded look, as though any second the world would slip away from under his feet. And despite that Makoto smiled when he caught eyes with her. Kyoko's heart cracked.

Byakuya could only watch with his fists by his side. He had set out to ensure all the survivors of the first killing game continued to survive and here we are. He forced all these feelings to be translated into anger. But he knew the underlying causes. He knew there was a part of him that simply was scared for his friends sake.

The two of them both understood the others emotional grievances. And that's exactly why Byakuya's heart skipped a beat when Kyoko looked up at him with fear vibrant in her eyes.

"It doesn't look good."

#naegirigami #naegamigiri #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #kyoko kirigiri #whump #fanfic #dr #dr:thh #danganronpa #im so peeved because tumblr wont show this pic in the main tag #dangaronpa #dangan ronpa #naegiri #naegami #dr3 #dr 3 #bear trap

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tired-eyes-cold-as-ice · 3 years

Text

MERCER'S BOULANGERIE

Chapter VI. - Call Me Yours

Summary: Listen to your heart, when he's calling for you... Alex owns a bakery and thinks he’s got everything he needs until a gorgeous skateboarder crashes into his life and turns his whole world upside down. A story full of sweet pastries, yearning, and a lot of sadness… with a happy ending of course. Read on AO3, 3.7k taglist in the reblogs <3 Chapter Warnings: none

Alex woke up in a strange haze the following morning.

It was probably his brain recovering from the horrendous lack of sleep and subsequent caffeine overdose of the previous day (which Alex had no one to blame for but himself). Everything seemed a bit too distant, too slow, too fuzzy. He’d slept well, but he still felt tired. Not sleepy, just spent.

Bonnie was curled up on the bed right next to him, stirring when Alex reached down to pet her gently. The cat gave him a couple of happy purrs in return and the two of them stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other’s company as Alex slowly adjusted to being awake.

He did get out of bed eventually—much to Bonnie’s dismay as the cat let out an unhappy sound at the sudden lack of pets when Alex moved his hand away—and took a quick shower since he was too tired for one the previous night, before getting dressed and making his way to the kitchen. Alex eyed his little coffee maker warily before opting for a cup of herbal tea instead.

He should probably stay away from coffee for a while.

It was still early, so Alex decided to go sit by the window for a little while, cradling the warm mug in his hands as he looked down at the streets below, though his eyes remained unfocused. Instead of the city underneath, Alex saw locks of chestnut hair and sparkling dark eyes staring back at him. Somewhere in the distance, way in the back of his mind, he heard a distant laugh and his fingertips tingled with the memory of brushing against somebody else’s.

He took a long sip of his tea and then carefully set his mug down as another memory forced its way to the front of his mind and Alex found himself reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, only to pull out the now slightly crumpled napkin covered in doodles. His finger traced one of the small croissants absently.

Alex wasn’t sure why he kept it. Or, more specifically, why he brought it home. He wouldn’t have thrown it away, but he could have just left it there on the counter or maybe on top of the register to display it (they were nice doodles after all) but, in the end, he just carefully folded the napkin over and stuffed it back into his pocket. There was a tiny part of him that wanted to keep it close and he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

Alex leaned his forehead against the window and squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh. He didn’t need this right now. He didn’t need random skateboarders in his life leaving him flustered and wanting more than stupid small talk over coffee. He didn’t need his heart doing flips every time random skateboarders smiled at him, and he certainly didn’t need his breath hitching in his throat every time their stupid DIY crop tops rode up just enough to show a sliver of skin underneath.

Stupid random skateboarders with their stupid doodles and stupidly gorgeous long hair and eyes that made Alex weak in the knees.

Yeah, he definitely didn’t need any of that.

A part of him knew this whole thing was silly. Alex would never act upon his feelings anyway. His crushes either went away with time or he suppressed them long enough for the person in question to disappear from his life, thus solving the problem. He didn’t have a heart to give away even if he wanted to, it belonged to the bakery, just like the majority of Alex’s time.

Besides, who’d want to date someone who gets up at ungodly hours of the morning six times a week and then comes home exhausted just to do it all over again the next day and the days after? Even if he had the time and energy, Alex wasn’t sure he even knew how to date anymore. So yeah, this whole skateboarder-induced crisis was silly.

But there was another part of Alex, hidden away somewhere in the dark, that refused to let him go. That forced Alex to remember his eyes and beautiful smile and reminded him of that lonely, hollow feeling in his chest he felt every time he saw a random couple on the street or even just Luke and Reggie. Sure, they were incapable of expressing their true feelings for one another, but at least they still had each other. They spent their days together, laughed together, cried together, hell they even slept in the same bed sometimes.

“We’re never alone, ‘cause we always have each other!” Reggie would say with the brightest of smiles. A statement that had always referred to all three of them and their own little world they built together, but one that also applied to just Luke and Reggie, the baker realized. They had each other and Alex still had them, just not in the same way.

It stung, and that hidden part of Alex remembered that feeling all too well. It made sure to remind him every time Alex met someone he could have and who’d have him in return. Alex always found himself yearning to fill that emptiness, but then all the other parts of him got much louder and more demanding and ultimately drowned the screams of his yearning heart out. Alex either moved on or gave up hope and that was the end of it, always telling himself he didn’t need that someone.

Except Alex was a bad liar and he knew it.

So, he picked up his tea again and allowed himself to daydream about random skateboarders in his bakery, knowing deep down they would always be just a fond memory and nothing more.

---

His head was still stuck in that strange fog by the time Alex arrived at the bakery.

Instead of enjoying his early morning ritual, Alex moved on autopilot, working through his well-rehearsed routine without giving it much thought at all. While his hands were busy grabbing ingredients, rolling out dough, and cutting up pastry, Alex’s mind wandered. Hazy, unfocused, clouded.

It was a good thing Alex could probably roll up croissants in his sleep.

Soon enough he was surrounded by trays filled with all sorts of familiar treats, including a batch of macarons much to Alex’s own surprise, but his hands refused to rest. Alex briefly registered Julie walking into the kitchen and wishing him a good morning as he worked, unsure of what exactly he was making.

Alex became a mere observer as his body moved instinctively through the kitchen, gathering ingredients. First came the flour, sugar, and salt, all mixed in with a healthy dose of Dutch cocoa powder. Then came the butter, eggs, some water, and soon enough Alex was rolling out a rich chocolate pastry dough. He filled a number of small tartelette pans and put them in the oven to bake before moving on to the filling.

Sugar, butter, then some heavy whipping cream, Alex watched intently as the slowly forming caramel in his pan turned a familiar golden brown color and filled the kitchen with the sweetest of scents. He found himself sprinkling in a teaspoon of salt as well, just before Julie set the tray of freshly baked chocolate shells in front of him.

He didn’t need to look up to know there was a fond smile on her face as she did so.

Filling up the shells, Alex caught his hands reaching for the bowl of dark chocolate Bourbon ganache he’d made earlier that morning, still warm enough to pour over the salted caramel and top off each of the tiny tarts in front of him. Alex thought he was done, but his mind was still restless and while Julie filled up the cabinets in the front of the store, the baker took it upon himself to rummage through the numerous cupboards and pantry shelves in the kitchen to find that finishing touch his brain was so clearly demanding.

Said finishing touch turned out to be small pieces of chocolate-covered honeycomb stacked neatly and carefully on top of every single tartelette, along with a pinch of salt flakes for good measure. Finally, the fog that had been clouding Alex’s mind cleared, and he took a step back to admire his work.

“Oh my God, Alex. I don’t know what kind of miracle you just performed here but these smell heavenly!”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh at the intensity in Julie’s voice as she appeared by his side, eyeing his little creations hungrily. He had to admit, they did smell really good. Luscious and rich but with a hint of darkness from the Bourbon. Alex knew the sweetness of the caramel would be balanced out by the salt and bitter chocolate, and the pieces of honeycomb would add an interesting texture on top.

However, it wasn’t until he was cutting one of the tartelettes open to split between Julie and himself, and watching the soft caramel filling slowly ooze out from under the thick layer of ganache, that Alex realized what he had done.

Dark, but incredibly warm and welcoming.

Pools of golden honey, rich bourbon, and salted caramel.

Bright amber one second and deep chocolate brown the next.

His eyes.

Fuck.

---

“Seriously, Alex, what is going on with you today?” Julie hissed in his ear as she moved past the baker to clean up and remake the cappuccino he had just knocked over by accident. Already busy serving another customer, the best response Alex could muster up in that moment was a tight remorseful smile, followed by a quick and mumbled sorry as he rang up the next person in line. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Julie rolling her eyes slightly in annoyance, and if he was being honest, Alex really didn’t blame her.

He’d be frustrated too.

It was a completely average day at the bakery. Not too quiet, but not overly busy either. Most of the customers thus far had been familiar faces Alex saw almost every day. So why was he so on edge?

It was business as usual and yet, Alex kept messing up, unable to focus on even the simplest of tasks. He kept dropping things, mixing up orders, or even forgetting them altogether. That cappuccino he’d spilled was just one of many and the baker had no idea what was going on.

Well, almost.

His eyes briefly landed on the glass platter atop one of the display cabinets, and the salted caramel chocolate tartelettes nestled comfortably under its dome. An image of warm caramel eyes flashed through his mind and Alex caught himself reaching for the doodle-covered napkin in his back pocket, stomach fluttering with butterflies.

It was Willie.

It had barely been a day and yet Alex was already anxious to see Willie again. Or maybe he was worried the skater would never show up again, leaving Alex with nothing but the napkin in his hand and faded memories of their short encounter at the bakery. Either way, he felt like a teenager again, freaking out over some random guy he met once and letting him get so deep under his skin that Alex couldn’t even do the job he loved properly. There was just something about Willie that drew him in. The ease with which he spoke, the warmth in the way he laughed, the way his eyes sparkled even in the shitty artificial lighting in the store.

The fact that Willie was also devastatingly beautiful didn’t help either.

Shaking his head and sighing, Alex stuffed the napkin back into his pocket as a new batch of customers filled the bakery. He was grateful for the distraction.

---

After what felt like an eternity, the bakery finally cleared out.

Alex found Julie in the back of the kitchen, hunched over a piece of sheet music and sipping on a cup of mint tea as she hummed out quiet melodies, stopping every once in a while to write something down. She noticed the baker moments later and downed the rest of her tea before turning to him, arms crossed over her chest and a stern expression on her face

Alex got the hint.

“I’m really sorry about today, Jules. I wish I had a good explanation but… I don’t. I guess I’m just a dumbass having a bad day and you totally have the day off tomorrow to make up for it.”

Julie regarded him for a moment, silently considering his apology in her head, before her face broke out into a fond, yielding smile.

“You know I can’t actually stay mad at you, travieso,” she sighed theatrically, hopping off her chair and making her way over to Alex who let out a quick breath of relief. “I’m just glad neither of us got hurt today. I wish you told me what’s actually going on, though. You’re not usually like this, Alex.”

Alex couldn’t help but blush at that moment but before Julie had a chance to pry further, the little bell attached to the main door rang throughout the bakery, announcing the arrival of a customer.

Shooting Julie an apologetic look and silently thanking the heavens for having impeccable timing, Alex made his way back behind the counter, a familiar script already rolling out of his mouth before he’d even reached his destination.

“Welcome to Merci, what can I get you today—?”

Whatever Alex was planning on saying next dissolved into thin air as the baker froze the second his eyes landed on the person who’d just walked in.

Willie.

Alex’s brain went into full shut down mode at the sight of the skater. He looked so different from the guy Alex met the previous day, yet still so unmistakably Willie.

The tie-dye crop top and cut-off shorts had been replaced by a pair of distressed light wash jeans and a dark muscle tee Luke Patterson would be jealous of. Arms and tattoos out and on full display, Willie also had his hair tied up in a messy bun, revealing the number of gold piercings scattered across both his ears.

Seriously, was he trying to give Alex another heart attack?

The baker felt his heart skip a couple of beats and a wave of uneasiness washed over him as he watched Willie slowly approach the counter before their eyes finally met and the skater’s whole face lit up with that warm smile Alex never wanted to forget.

“Willie.”

The name was slipping out of his mouth before Alex even realized it was happening. Willie’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise and his smile quickly twisted into a mischievous grin.

“Aww, you remember my name? I’m touched,” the skater leaned up against the counter as he spoke, eyes never leaving the baker. Alex immediately felt a blush crawl up his cheeks as his brain finally caught up with the situation, but he tried his best to fight it off. This was a game and there was no way Alex was going to give up that easily.

He cleared his throat, eyes darting down to the countertop where Willie’s hand was resting dangerously close to his own.

“I mean, it’s just good customer service,” Alex shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Strangely enough, that seemed to be the response Willie was waiting for as his smile grew even wider and his eyes twinkled with delight, determined to keep playing.

“Oh, so you remember the names of all the pretty boys who come by your bakery, then?”

Alex found himself biting the inside of his cheek to fight off the smile that was desperately trying to spread across his face.

Willie was good.

Alex was never one to take the bait this easily. Normally, he’d immediately start playing dumb and watch as the guy desperately tried to get Alex to take the hint before ultimately giving up. It was the shield that kept him safe. His friends would always tease him about being clueless but Alex knew this was the easiest way to keep his heart protected.

And lonely, added that little voice way in the back of his mind, forcing its way through to the front yet again and echoing through that empty hollow space somewhere deep in his core. A familiar pain ran through his veins—that yearning for someone. Someone to care for, someone to hold, someone to love who’d love him in return. Someone kind and warm and welcoming. Someone whose eyes Alex could get lost in to hide from the world, someone whose smile made Alex feel like everything would be okay.

The little voice in his brain, that part of himself Alex tried so hard to keep in the dark, had gotten too loud, drowning out the rest of the world and deafening him. For the first time in a very long time, though, Alex refused to silence it.

Gathering up courage, Alex finally met Willie’s eyes again. They were dark chocolate in that moment, he noted, with accents of golden honey and only a hint of caramel somewhere under the surface.

He smirked.

“No, just the prettiest ones.”

Clearly not the response he was expecting, Willie actually looked abashed, lips parted slightly in surprise as he stared at the baker. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to fight off a bashful smile, cheeks tinted pink as he looked away.

Checkmate.

When Willie didn’t respond, Alex decided to continue. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to play, he’d forgotten how fun it can be. Straightening his back and tightening the apron straps around his waist, Alex put on his best customer service smile before innocently asking: “So, what can I get you?”

Willie’s expression went from confused to flustered impressively quickly.

“Right! Yeah, uh, I’ll just have the black coffee with—”

“—with one sugar?” Alex finished for him, already reaching for a cup, though his eyes never left the skater who looked adorably lost due to the sudden change in their dynamic. He didn’t seem too worried about it, though, as his smile only grew wider and he simply gave Alex a little nod in confirmation.

Alex set out to make his drink quickly, holding up a hand in protest when Willie tried handing him a couple of dollar bills to pay.

“Please, it’s on the house. Y’know, for yesterday…” Alex explained, cringing internally as he remembered the less-than-ideal first impression he’d made the previous day.

Willie’s face immediately softened and he shook his head slightly before sticking the money inside the small tip jar by the register and taking his coffee from Alex. His cheeks were still slightly red as he thanked the baker—followed by another one of those beautiful smiles Alex already felt himself getting addicted to—and was just about to make his way out when his eyes landed on the glass platter Alex had been distracted by the whole day.

Any confidence Alex had gained during their little interaction instantly left his body and was instead replaced by dread and embarrassment because his goddamned crush just saw the pastries Alex made inspired by his freaking eyes.

“Hey, this wasn’t here yesterday, was it? Is it new?”

Alex wanted to smack his head against the counter. Instead, he just gestured vaguely in the platter’s direction, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, um, that’s just today’s special…”

Willie’s right eyebrow shot up curiously. “I didn’t notice a ‘special’ yesterday?”

“Mhmm. That’s because yesterday was a special... no-special kind of day.”

“Ooh, I see.”

“Yep.”

An awkward silence fell over the room.

After a few moments of rocking back and forth on his feet and fidgeting with his bracelets, Alex’s eyes flickered between the skater and the platter, and the sudden urge to smack his head against the counter came back at full force.

“Oh! Sorry, did you want to try one?” he asked hurriedly, hand already reaching for the glass lid to take one of the tartelettes out. Just like that, they were back to the beginning with Alex blushing bright red in embarrassment and Willie grinning like a cat that just got all the cream.

“I mean, if you insist, chef,” the skater teased, even though he was hungrily eyeing the little chocolate treat while Alex packed it up for him.

“Pâtissier, actually,” countered Alex automatically, barely looking up from his task. He couldn’t help but smile at Willie’s confused expression when he handed him the tartelette, safely confined in a small pink box with Merci’s logo on it. “That’s how you’d refer to a pastry chef traditionally. In French, I mean. But for me it’s not really accurate either since I don’t focus on just pastries, so…” the baker explained shyly, trailing off towards the end as he found himself distracted by the gentle way Willie was running his fingers over the edges of the box.

The skater didn’t seem to mind, though, clearly intrigued by what Alex had to say.

“What should I call you then?” he finally asked, voice much softer than before as he lifted his gaze away from the box in his hands and back towards the baker.

Just call me yours, Alex thought, mesmerized by the tenderness in Willie’s eyes as the butterflies in his stomach fluttered their wings yet again.

“Alex is just fine,” was what he said instead.

Willie’s smile never left his lips as nodded in response.

“Okay, Alex. I’ll see you around.”

Taking a couple of steps towards the door, the skater paused for a second as if to say something more, before finally walking out.

Alex waited until Willie had completely disappeared in the sea of people outside before letting out a shaky breath in disbelief, the corners of his lips curling up into a tentative smile. His brain already replaying the encounter, Alex reached into his pocket for the now even more crumpled up napkin, tracing the little croissant doodles with his finger carefully and with a fond smile on his lips.

All too late did he realize there was another pair of eyes watching him from the entrance to the kitchen.

Julie’s expression was absolutely ecstatic by the time Alex had shoved the napkin back in his pocket and whipped around to face her, mortified. Before she could say anything, Alex zoomed past her into the kitchen, groaning helplessly when Julie immediately followed.

“Don’t.”

“What do you mean don’t? How can I not!”

“Julie, please…”

“You know him?! When did that happen?”

“You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

“Did you get his number?”

“Julie!”

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

Note

Same anon thank you for answering my question! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for MTMTE Rung, Megatron, Rodimus, Minimus, and Swerve with an Artisic human reader that just sees the good and creative artist side of everything? From books to pictures to even their own bot? Like they can just look at their bot and go out on a whole rant on how beautiful their optics are from the color to their expression. if that’s too many characters you can take any one, I don’t mind! Thank you and have a good day ❤️

You're welcome! I'm always open for clarification, so feel free to ask questions about whatever you'd like if you're unsure on anything. I took a little liberty with this one, but I've got all the requested bots because darn it all these beautiful mechs deserve recognition!

Rung

·He discovers your artistic inclination thanks to years of experience reading personalities and emotions at a glance, but he wasn't prepared for the depth of your conviction in seeing the world through a creative lens, which he learned upon speaking to you about your process as an artist. This surprise grows as he sees you sketching around the ship, your exuberance for the inherent beauty in everything coming through in every conversation you share.

·When he praises some of your sketches on a quiet day in his office and is compelled to ask how you developed your style, he's fascinated by your explanation, and his spark is warmed by how beautifully you describe the world around you and credit it for inspiring you. He's visibly shocked when your list of current subjects and muses includes him specifically, and you can't help but chuckle at the usually calm bot looking so absolutely flustered. There's no way for him to hide any of that feeling when he requests a bit of clarification; there's hundreds of bots on board, what about him could possibly stand out?

·You're happy to elaborate on your process to a bot who so regularly underestimates his worth and lay out why he in particular piques your interest. The warmth and goodness of his being is such a rare and beautiful thing, you explain, but also so rarely appreciated that it drives you to try and capture that essence in a manner one can see. How could you not? Such compassion and empathy and forgiveness should be remembered! You've also seen that he's capable of accepting any genuine apology, and to have that level of mercy after so much war is beautiful, enough that you have to try and show it.

·To say he's touched is an understatement of unfathomable proportions. Removing his lenses to clear optics blurred with tears, he doesn't even know how to begin processing your praise of his character when you add that his physical self hardly fails to encourage you either. His glasses nearly slip from his hands when he hears you say that. You continue quite easily; the kindness in his optics and the sweetness of his smile, combined with his genuinely handsome profile, simply inspire you to start sketching.

·He's touched, but you have to understand, he is NOT accustomed to this level of praise. Between the near tears and the blushing he has to politely excuse himself to recover from this absolute tsunami of emotions, but being flustered and melted at once is enough to have him smiling through a little blush all day long. While he tries to take a little bit of your mindset into his everyday life going forward, he gets a bit dazed every time he sees a sketch of yours that includes his face, as that level of artistic devotion being dedicated to him is more than he'll ever be able to process. Not that he minds...

Megatron

·Being more familiar with the written word, he enjoys the arts but has little experience with those who create them, and time has not been on his side in regards to learning more. Thus, you're one of the first artistically inclined individuals he's been able to discuss the topic with, which he was motivated to do after catching a glimpse of your work. He could swear some of your sketches bear a resemblance to him, but he says nothing on the matter and is certain his optics are tricking him.

·Your talk of technique quickly surprises him by shifting to inspiration, which to you is the primary driving force of your work, as it influences how you go about conveying the subject matter. Eager to share what you mean, you explain that anything can have beauty worthy of capturing if you just take the time to look at it right. Even the most mundane or seemingly unappealing things can be remarkable if you know their story, and you want to convey that energy as wordlessly as possible.

·A little overwhelmed but quite impressed by your manner of reasoning, he rather jokingly asks if even beings like himself could ever inspire you, or perhaps another artist with your mindset. He's caught off gaurd like never before when you, quite enthusiastically, reply that he most certainly can and does! To keep his composure he recalls portraits of his likeness being commissioned to inspire his soldiers, but never believing these fell under the category of art so much as they did propaganda. They often depicted him quite... violently as well.

·Having never seen these pieces, you reply that your own experience is tied more to how you see him now, and you flip through your sketchbook to demonstrate. As close to your level as can be, he's speechless while you explain what you wanted to capture about him in each sketch, whether it's a quick study or a detailed project; and that's how safe he makes you feel. Hearing himself referred to as a protector cuts straight through his powerful armor.

·You depict him looking almost... gentle? Hearing you describe the his immense size as a source of comfort and his strength as a tool of keeping peace processes about as clearly to him as a foreign language, but he nods along and keeps the conversation going until his duties call him away. Though he says nothing of it, he volunteers himself for more of the physically demanding work around the ship. His body's purpose had always been decided for him, but you've reminded him he has the only true say in its use, and that everything really is a matter of perspective. Perhaps he'll take up sketching once this is all over.

Rodimus

·He's certainly always had an appreciation for visual appeal, even if his idea of beauty doesn't often overlap with what most would consider artistically valuable. This and his natural alertness makes him quick to notice you often sketch about the ship, frequently when he's present, but at first he leaves you alone to work in peace. Having a hobby on this crew is beyond valuable, and he doesn't want to distract you from a passion... That is, until he decides on one especially slow day to just ask you what you like to doodle about.

·You can tell he wants to be a little nosy, if only because he's naturally a curious bot about these things, but you're more than happy to share regardless. There's a lot due to the ample downtime on the quest, and he has to squint so he can properly scan the many sketches on the human sized paper. He happily recognizes friends, locales about the ship, even earth things he knows about... but he's not ready when he finds a picture of himself.

·While he remains outwardly playful, teasing you with how he'd pose if you only asked, he's internally flattered that you took the time to draw him. More specifically, he's touched by the way you drew him. The sketches and portraits portray him as a calm but amicable leader, standing tall and serving as a guide to those around him, a true "father to his men" kind of bot... it's everything he wants to be, but is quite certain he's not. He's barely able to keep up his smooth persona when he asks about your process.

·You explain that you find inspiration in everything, but he's been your chosen subject lately for a lot of reasons. It's no secret he's handsome, but you see something more when you look at him, and you did everything you could to show it here; there's a real leader in him. Maybe some bots don't see it under all the bluster and sarcasm, but you see how much he cares for every bot on his crew. He wants to be the best for all of them, and even if he struggles at times, that effort is beautiful to you.

·It takes everything in him to bite back some very embarrassing tears, and the crack in his voice doesn't help him hide the emotion, though he covers that up with unconvincing coughs and claims something got in his optic. From then on he seems to stand a little taller and find his assigned duties a little easier to bear, but you absolutely notice how he poses in what he believes to be heroic fashion whenever your sketchbook comes out. Inspired by his enthusiasm, you invite him to model more officially, and the crew is just happy to see him so enthusiastic.

Minimus

·Being as observant as he is, your consistent appraisal of your surroundings is not something he'd ever miss, but your frequent sketching in the most random places does leave him absolutely mystified. Every time he sees you there's artistic supplies on your person, but he can't find anything that appears to be worthy of putting to paper, so what could you be drawing? He respects your privacy too much, and feels too silly about his curiosity, to interpret and ask you for an explanation.

·Thus it's with some small eagerness that he finds one of your sketchbooks after it's been misplaced, and he sees the perfect opportunity to slip in a question. For the sake of handling something so tiny, he approaches without his armor, offering the lost item back with barely concealed pride at your delight to have it returned. In the moment of truth he nearly falters, but does indeed manage to ask what you draw around the ship. He leaves out the fact that he's observed you whenever you draw in his presence.

·The question has an answer only he seems to think isn't obvious; him! You spend time together frequently, and while everything is fair game for sketching, he's a very regular subject for you. Whether he's wearing the Magnus armor or not, you explain that the commanding aura he radiates is something you can't help but find beautiful. That word choice baffles him enough that he has to interrupt; beautiful? Commanding? Even without his armor?? You're delighted to assure him that you absolutely mean that.

·Hearing you describe the details of your reasoning, like the quiet dignity of his stance or the calm intelligence of his red optics, touches his spark in ways he wasn't expecting. He's calm and speaks softly as he keeps the conversation going, asking questions about your various works and listening attentively when you answer, processing your view of the universe as being packed with beauty in all the places people don't think to look.

·Any bot that sees him during the remainder of the day absolutely notices the change to his entire demeanor; namely that he's smiling a soft and barely perceptible smile. It's not long after he requests a few sketches from you to keep in his office, whether they're of him or not, and he has them framed in places of honor. He doesn't tell you, but you figure it out, that one particular drawing of him you gift for his sake is kept securely stored in a compartment by his spark.

Swerve

·Many bots may see him being a tad bit on the shallow side when it comes to the arts, but our beloved barkeep has his own unique appreciation for creativity and all the ways it can be visually expressed, and you recognize it not long after meeting him. As his bar is a frequent hangout for everyone, you find it to be a fantastic place to sit and sketch, as the variety of bots makes it quite easy to have your choice of subjects even if you have to sit on a table. Obviously Swerve notices and asks you what you're drawing when traffic slows one evening.

·You're happy to show him your work and he's always eager to hear what everyone is up to, so he starts asking questions about your art in general. How long have you been an artist? What's it like suddenly having a whole ship of aliens to sketch? Why draw here all the time? At that query you light up brilliantly, and he's delighted by your enthusiasm as you describe all the incredible sights the bar has to offer.

·You list some of your favorite things to draw, like the many friend groups on the ship that gather here, the brilliant colors of the glowing vats of enjex, and him smiling and rushing with orders through it all. That last one gets a flash of surprise from behind his visor, which is quickly overtaken by exuberant delight; you've been drawing him?! He babbles out a surge of confusing statements that you're eventually able to interpret as a request to see, just one he's too bashful to say directly.

·Happily obliging, you're touched by how he smiles at every little sketch, and feel compelled to explain that he's a big part of why you love drawing here. You try to see beauty in everything, even what often gets overlooked, and there's so very much of that here. The bar is one of those places that everyone knows is special, but you know he's the reason they love it like they do, and that his enthusiasm and hard work hold it all together. You find that inspiring, and actually quite beautiful. It doesn't hurt that his brilliant smile is always a treat to sketch.

·Trying to play it cool and totally failing, he doesn't quite hide that he's near to tears when he asks if you'd like to hang some of your work up in the bar, or maybe have a little corner for yourself to draw from. He just doesn't want you getting squished while you sketch, is all! And having a better vantage point is ideal for someone so small! When you accept, he gives you your own human sized accommodations not too far from the heart of the bar, and every so often when you sketch he'll glance up at you absolutely beaming.

#transformers #more than meets the eye #mtmte #idw #lost light #maccadam #tf #rung #megatron #minimus ambus #rodimus #swerve #self insert #human reader #requests #anon #my writing #transformers headcanon #my asks

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glitterge1pen · 4 years

Text

To Wake Up To A Mailbox Filled With Letters Only From You

Iwaizumi Hajime x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 2,071

It was driving him insane. The notes, envelopes, and pieces of paper started appearing at his desk on February 1st. They were tucked away in the cubby and made him incredibly nervous. Whoever was doing this to him was going to really, really make him lose it.

It was nice knowing that someone liked him. Even if he didnt know who it was, it was a good feeling. The only downside was that he had to keep this from you and Oikawa for as long as he possibly could. You two were Iwaizumi’s best friends yes of course, but this was too much.

If Oikawa found out he would stop at nothing to figure out who it was, the teasing would be brutal. If you found out? Iwaizumi didn't want you to think that he had feelings for anyone else, even if you werent dating he didn't want to put that idea into your head. Not only that but anytime romance or dating was brought up with you around he got nervous. Even watching Ryan Gosling movies with you was incredibly difficult. The conversation felt like walking on landmines when it came to yours or his love life.

The first day it was a purple foam heart the size of his palm. Covered in stickers, glitter glue, and in the center was a picture of him playing volleyball. It was from the stands, he could tell the photo had been zoomed in, but he was up in the air on the court. There was no message on the note other than some sharpie bubble letters that said “hottie”, he didn't really pay attention to it. He assumed it was Oikawa messing with him like usual. But when Oikawa made no mention of it he knew that it wasn't his friend.

That night at home he tucked the heart into his desk drawer. He lay in bed trying to imagine who would have made such a thing for him. Since it had been in those somehow taunting bubble letters he couldn't decipher it by handwriting. He did think the “hottie” thing was funny though. The list of people who could have left him the silly little message rattled in his mind.

He knew that he wanted it to be you. He wanted you to do something cheesy, cute, and cliche like that for him. For you to like him so much that it wouldn't bother you to do things like that. It would be your nature to give him gifts and say stupid things to him that made him laugh, that made his chest feel warm.

The next day he was surprised to see another note. He managed to slip it into the cover of his notebook without anyone seeing. It took everything in him not to peek at it during that first class. He knew for sure now that it wasn't Oikawa because they had walked to school together that morning.

It was during lunch that Iwaizumi took out the note to look at it. He had went out to grab drinks at the vending machine. Away from the prying eyes of his friends he opened the front of his notebook. This second card was much more traditional in style. Red construction paper, with white frilly lace on the edge, a mostly straight line of glitter glue outlining the heart.

This one had a picture of a bunny and text that read “some bunny loves you” , another picture of him had been doodled on so he had bunny ears and whiskers. This picture was not from volleyball and he couldn't remember where it had been taken. It was a little creepy but he cared more about who was sending these to him.

The following day he was looking forward to going to school. He wanted to see if he got another note. Even if he didnt know who was sending these, it did feel nice to know that someone could be interested in him. He had spent many valentines sharing the fruits of Oikawa's good looks. It was a good feeling to know that he could receive the same type of attention.

He did get a store bought card that day. It had a picture of a bumble bee and it read "bee my valentine and you won't get stung. A piece of candy had been taped inside the card. After that it was a cootie-catcher with all kinds of pick up lines buried in its folds. There were two more hand made cards that were covered in stickers, shiny tape, glitter and gel pen.

It was halfway to Valentine's day now. Iwaizumi woke up on the seventh of February wondering what type of card he would get. None of the other cards he had gotten helped him decipher who was sending these to him. It was once again at lunch that Iwaizumi snuck off to peak at what had been left to him. Today it had been a plain white envelope with a heart sticker sealing it shut.

Iwaizumi was expecting another bad pick up line but was instead met with an actual typed up letter. Whoever had written this actually, genuinely, liked Iwaizumi. He had this dumbfounded swirling feeling in his stomach. One of dread and excitement. Because he knew exactly what the letter was saying. The letter was true to the way he felt about you. And this letter wasnt from him to you. He didn't know who had written this.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he had not seen Oikawa and Hanamaki run up behind him.

"What is this?"

Oikawa's voice had a mischievous ring to it and before Iwaizumi can properly respond the envelope had already been taken from him. His fingers ghosted the traces of the paper, trying to grab it back but missing it by inches. Hanamaki put his arms around his shoulders locking him into place. Iwaizumi was more desperate now as he tried hurling insults at Oikawa.

"Oh my god, oh my fucking god"

The look Oikawa had on his face was of pure joy. A smile spread over his face and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Who wrote it! Come on tell me who your new lover is"

Oikawa sung that last part. But now Hanamaki was interested in the letter and upon reading it he had the same reaction.

"I don't know who wrote it"

Hanamaki scoffed.

"What are you kidding?"

Iwaizumi looked at his friend confused. But Oikawa launched into a rapid fire question session with Iwaizumi.

"Wait you're telling me you have been getting these for a whole week now and you didn't say anything to me! Your dearest friend!"

Oikawa feigned injury at this, falling back into Iwaizumi as they walked.

"I didn't want to deal with it, plus I don't know who is writing these and maybe they don't want anyone else to know"

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You had been doing your best to not tip off Iwaizumi that it was you leaving him the notes. But you were rather disappointed at his lack of reaction. You didn't expect him to suddenly be walking around like a love sick fool but he appeared no different to you. You still walked home with him and Oikawa, you had eaten lunch a few times since, everything was the same.

It was after school and you were waiting outside the gym for Iwaizumi and Oikawa. On days they had practice you hung around in the library finishing up homework or browsed through the books. The door to the gymnausm swung open, you greeted Hanamaki but were halted by the extra devilish grin he had. You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by his antics.

"What did you do now?"

You ask teasingly.

"Me? I haven't done anything"

He was faking innocence.

"Really?"

You say, raising an eyebrow.

"It's funny though, because, I think thats its you whos been up to no good"

You're taken aback not sure what he's getting at. He drops the sarcasm for a second letting out an exasperated sigh.

"I know about Iwaizumi"

You pull on his arm leading him further away from the gym.

"Did he tell you it was me? Does he know? He hasn't said anything-"

He cuts you off.

"Slow down, that idiot is way too dense to know you like him back"

Hanamaki covers his mouth at that, knowing it wasn't something he was supposed to reveal to you. But you lit up at his words.

"He likes me back? But you said he doesnt know whos writing the notes"

"That's because he liked you before you wrote him that letter...wait did you say notes? There's more than one?"

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. So you explained what you had been doing. The notes for each day. The entire time you spoke Hanamaki had an expression that was somewhere between disbelief and bemusement. You were about to ask Hanamaki about Iwaizumi some more when said boy walked out from the gym.

You let go of Hanamakis wrist, not realizing you had been holding onto him for so long, to wave at your other two friends. They started to approach you but you waved them off.

“Go on ahead I’ll catch up!”

You turn to Hanamaki once again. More serious than before.

“How did you know it was me?”

“You help me out with essays all the time, that letter you wrote him sounds exactly like you”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The next day Iwaizumi was not able to focus. He had received a bouquet of suckers and lollipops. Each adorned with sharpie and a terribly corny phrase like “99% Angel” or “Lover Boy”. Oikawa had of course taken one of these for himself. Saying that Iwaizumi owed him. They were walking home without you today, you said you had needed to help Hanamaki with some homework. But that was exactly what had been bothering Iwaizumi .

The night before when you and his friend had been out in the dusk alone. Your hand on his wrist. You looked flustered, and Iwaizumi could only recall a few other times you had been blushing so intensely. What had you been talking about with him? It was driving him crazy that he didn't know, that you were off with him now.

“Where are the rest of them?”

Oikawa asked, grabbing at Iwaizumi's bag. Iwaizumi pulled out another sucker from his coat pocket but Oikakwa was not satisfied.

“No, the rest of the valentines cards and letters, I wanna see them, you can't hide those from me forever”

Wide eyed Iwaizumi doesn't know what to do or say.

“Those are private property”

But Oikawa knows his friend well, and it was not long before his request was granted. Reluctant and embarrassed Iwaizumi allows Oikawa to shuffle through his desk drawer where he has stashed his paper treasure. Oikawa of course photographs everything. When he reaches for the one valentine with the bunny pun he stops.

“Isn't this photo from that movie night we had a couple months ago?”

“What? No way it was only me, you and…”

His words stayed caught as whispers in his mouth. Oikawa was right. It was hard to tell because the white wall behind Iwaizumi in the photo could have been so many places, but he did remember wearing that shirt. You took that photo. It was you.

“Hey, you know you have to make them a card now right?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You and Hanamaki had been trying to sort out some sort of a plan. You were originally going to confess to Iwaizumi face to face on Valentine's day. But you wanted to do it immediately now. You didn't want to drag anything out or confuse Iwaizumi by not telling him that it was you. There was only one more day until Valentine's day and you couldn't decide if it was worth the wait anymore.

The morning was brisk and a bit cold. You were shedding off your coat, opening your locker you saw an unfamiliar shade of pink. It was a paper heart. Similar to the ones you had made for Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi. You recognized his handwriting. It read;

I feel the same. Meet me after school tomorrow to talk. Can I call it a date if we get food? Check yes or no.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Did I plan this out at all? No. Did I edit this at all? Also no. But this idea was rattling around in my brain and I needed to get it out. Its a little Jem and The Holograms with the whole “omg surprise its me the person you're in love with and also the person who flirts with you a lot and makes you confused” ALSO I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO END THIS ONE????? so sorry if its more muddled than usual

#Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq iwaizumi #Iwaizumi fluff #valentines day

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obeiii-mee · 4 years

Note

Hi there! If its okay, could i ask for headcannons of the brothers finding out MC is an Artist? Something like, finding there sketchbook or napkins w doodles on them jfjdjs Or maybe they catch MC glancing at them alot while trying to draw them? hfjd Ty!! Your writing is really good~

Of course it’s OK! I’ve always liked the idea of MC having a really interesting hobby and teaching the brothers about it. I feel like all the brothers would be very supportive of them, even if they all had various reactions to their hobby but I really love writing wholesome moments like that. Sorry this took longer to come out, I made them really long to make up for it!

Also thank you. Your compliment means a lot :)

————————————-

The Brothers’ reactions to MC being an artist:

Lucifer:

-Well if you’re going to glance at him every two minutes, he’s bound to notice

-I mean, you’re pretty damn obvious

-Lucifer got pretty used to you whipping out your sketchbook whenever you could

-So for you to start doodling in his office while he worked wasn’t exactly unheard of

-He caught you staring at him before looking back down at your drawing, continuing your series of furious scribbles

-Now you piqued his interest

-“You seem very focused there love. What are you drawing?”

-Scared the crap out of you because he rarely ever talks when he’s working

-You were reluctant to show him but Lucifer has his insisting face on

-When you passed him the sketchbook, he momentarily froze

-Your drawing was so detailed and full of emotion, capturing him slumped over his desk, exhausted but determined to finish the work he’s been assigned

-He was so surprised and stunned, for a second, he forgot to breathe

-“It’s not exactly one of my best drawings yet but-“

-“You never fail to impress me MC.”

-He suspected you were drawing him but he wasn’t expecting this much effort to be put into it

-He would definitely keep all your drawings of him

-Loves all your work but secretly adores your sketches of him best

-Lucifer would occasionally look over your shoulder while you sketch, taking a peek at what you’re drawing and smile to himself

-He’s never felt this much pride for someone else before

Mammon:

-Was pissed you would rather spend time with an object rather than him

-It annoyed him at first because he couldn’t tell if you were listening to him or not while you had your nose stuck in your sketchbook

-Basically, he was jealous of a sketchbook

-You can’t do that Mammon, that’s Levi’s thing

-So one day he decided to see what the fuck was so great about that giant notebook you always have with you

-He turned your entire room upside down searching for the damn thing before finding it

-He flipped through it and I’m sure the entire House of Lamentation could hear his gasp

-You drew him for pages and pages in all sorts of positions and styles and he was a flustered tomato going through them

-You willingly drew him? The scum of a demon who could never do anything right unless it involved money? You put your time and effort into these sketches and doodles despite him being condescending and a dick at times?

-Excuse me but this man is already head over heels in love with you, you can’t keep giving him reasons to fall for you

-He was so engrossed into your work that he didn’t notice you behind him

-“Mammon why is there a mess in my room-“

-“HOLY SHI-AHHH!!!”

-Too embarrassed to even think of an excuse for going through your shit

-“Ah those...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drawn you without your permission Mammon-“

-“Are ya kiddin’ me? MC, I feel insulted that you didn’t tell me about this sooner. Can...Can I keep some of ‘em??”

-Now he insists that you draw him as often as possible and would even pose for you (he loves the attention let’s be real)

-He wants to see all of your drawings and will endlessly support you

-Thought about using your skill as a way to make money because art can be very expensive

-But in the end, he dropped the idea

-Why would he sell something so precious to him??

Levi:

-He probably has a sketchbook too

-You guys draw Ruri-chan together in your own styles

-Levi always insists that you’re much better at drawing than him tho

-Your talent makes him a little jealous but at the same time he’s fascinated

-Was so surprised when he found out you were into sketching

-Levi was even more surprised when you showed him all the drawings you’ve worked on for your favourite anime and video game characters

-OK but how come you’re so perfect? Not only are you a lovely person that is willing to watch anime with him without insulting his opinions but you can draw? W...h...a...t...?

-He requests several sketches of ‘The Tale of the Seven Lords’ characters and will actually tape them to his wall

-Some of them are right on his Ruri-chan shelf

-“Hey normie, do you...do you mind teaching me how to draw? I want to learn.”

-Is 100% determined to learn how to properly sketch from you

-You started drawing him as well, usually while he games

-You better stop, he’ll have a nosebleed if you keep being so nice to him!

-Draw him as an anime character and he will start fangirling

-“Phew. OK I’m finished.”

-“What did you draw?”

-“Hentai.”

-“This. Is. A. Masterpiece.”

-Will proudly show your work to his brothers (usually the same drawing more than five times)

-What did an otaku like him do to deserve you??

Satan:

-He found out you were an artist fairly quickly

-I meant he found tissues with doodles you left behind everywhere

-He kept all of them

-It was so refreshing for him to see you so invested in your drawings the same way he is in his reading

-You’re still under the impression you’re being sneaky by drawing him while he has his nose in his books

-You ended up finally gathering enough courage to show him one of your portraits of him

-He had a reaction similar to Lucifer’s really

-Praise!

-He made your drawing into a bookmark

-Idk how but he did

-You leave him a few doodles of you and him being all lovey dovey and he absolutely adores them

-Will lose his marbles if anyone says anything remotely negative about your style or talent

-Draw him fluffy animals pls he will literally have them framed and fixed up in his room

-Also if you draw any of his brothers (specifically Lucifer let’s be real) in a silly way he will actually start snorting with laughter

-You sketch him pretty damn often and he can’t really complain

-It’s really peaceful when you two are in the library and you’re working on your doodling while he reads aloud to you

-Buys you equipment like pens and pencils and even sketchbooks when he knows you’re running out

-He’s really delighted when you come over to show him your drawings

-Once he caught you staring at a cat as you started sketching it

-He actually didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much

Asmo:

-Noisy little fucker that he is and in need of drama, he looked through your sketchbook

-Thought it was a diary at first but nope

-Imagine his surprise when he found pages upon pages of drawings of his brothers and him

-Except his weren’t really a surprise

-He’s gorgeous of course you would want to draw him

-But oh my God, do you realise how much he values art??

-I know he looks as if he only thinks about sex but he definitely has a thing for creativity and art like painting and photography

-“MC darliiiing~? Why didn’t you tell me you can draw?”

-He actually shrieks at how well you’ve captured his beauty

-He insists that they look like actual pictures of him

-Takes several pictures of all of them and posts them on DevilGram

-A bit salty when you drawing anything else but him

-However, he can’t deny that you’re one of the most talented individuals he ever met

-He comes up to you every day and lractically begs you to draw him

-One time you came in your room to find him naked and asking you to draw him

-Is actually kinda good at drawing himself

-Specifically people

-He has enough experience exploring the human body so he surprisingly enough, knows a thing or two when it comes to body proportions

-“MC draw me like one of your french girls~”

-I’m sorry I had to do that

-He also likes the attention he’s getting when he poses for you

-He may think he’s the most beautiful being in all three realms but he definitely thinks you’re the second

-So he often offers to draw you too

-He likes having cozy chats with you while you draw

Beel:

-You left your sketchbook behind in the kitchen with him

-Mammon needed your assistance to get down from where Lucifer hanged him after one of his failed money schemes

-He knocked a glass of milk nearby it and had a panic attack for a minute

-Legitimately thought he ruined the whole thing

-Was actually about ready to cry because he knew how important your sketchbook was to you

-Looked through it just to make sure there were no splotches or anything

-To say he was relieved when he realised it was fine would be an understatement

-He was kinda drawn to your sketches, most of them carefully drawn and expressive, even some of the ones you scribbled out

-One specific drawing caught his eye though

-You drew him and Belphie together, with his twin brother’s head resting on his shoulder while Beel ate

-He was mesmerised by your talent and by your thoughtfulness

-Beel felt bad about it but he kept looking through your sketches, enchanted by everything in it

-You drew him and his brothers several times

-It’s safe to say the discovery of your drawings brightened his day

-Gave back your sketchbook later

-He apologised for going through it without your permission more than he needed to

-You had to accept his apology because he looked like a kicked puppy

-Feels very honoured whenever you let him look at your work

-Is more than happy to pose for you!

-But that might be a bit of a problem seeing as he tends to move around a lot

-“Whoa, that looks just like me! The food I’m eating looks really realistic too...which is making me hungry. Let’s go to Hell’s Kitchen, you can finish this there!”

-Supportive bean

-You gave him a family sketch of him and all of his brothers once

-Normally, he only likes gifts he can eat

-But he treasures that drawing more than food at times

-“This...this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me! Thank you MC! But uh, someone’s missing in this drawing.”

-“Ah shit, who did I miss?”

-“You.”

-If anything ever happens to Beel or his happiness I swear to Lord Diavolo-

Belphie:

-OK but you left your notebook just sitting there right next to him???

-How do you expect him not to look through it?

-Belphie doesn’t care much for privacy

-And he doesn’t exactly have morals either

-He didn’t even know you were into drawing

-Which to be fair, wasn’t scandalous considering he sleeps 20 hours a day

-But he wants to be more involved in your interests so that’s why he took initiative with your sketchbook

-Idk what he was expecting but definitely not a sketch of him staring back at him

-His heart skipped a beat but I don’t even know if demons have hearts

-The cheeky little shit took pictures and may or may not have made on your drawings of him his wallpaper

-Most of the drawings were of him sleeping, surprising...absolutely no one

-“So that’s what you’re up to whenever I go to sleep huh? So cute~”

-But besides all that, he is really touched

-I mean, if there’s anyone undeserving of your love and respect is the piece of shit of who tried to kill you

-Yet here you are, continuously showering him with affection and now this

-Probably spent hours looking at your sketchbook while you were at R.A.D

-Didn’t say anything to you when you came back except handing your notebook back to you

-Though he was less of a smartass and more affectionate for the rest of the day

-Next morning, you took the liberty of waking up before him and sketching him again

-He grabbed your arm halfway through your doodling and grinned at you from under the covers

-“Drawing me again huh? You won’t mind me doing this while you’re at it then right?”

-Now he’s sleeping in your lap

-Whenever you show him your work, he makes a small approving noise but he’s seriously impressed

-Draw Lucifer or Lord Diavolo in any offensive manner and he will actually start giggling

-Gets all huffy puffy when you draw his brothers instead of him (we all know Beel is the exception)

-I may have a thing for Belphegour

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #☂️ demon brothers #🕯 general

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bittybattybunny · 4 years

Photo

OKAY so here’s the cursed into a dragon story and doodle!!

I wanted to draw the cute knight and the dragon (AKA Ru had an old suit of armor at his brother’s and had no idea the dragon he was asked about was his not GF)

Fic time!! and reminder this idea was suggested by @creepyfuzzymelon!! It did get a lil long for a ficlet but eh it works! Enjoy!

She paused in front of the red door and brushed her hair behind her ear before she walked in. She sneezed as she walked in, the smell of incense making her nose burn. She frowned as her head began to spin.

“Welcome.” Came the shop keeper’s sing song voice. Her green blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she saw the woman.

“Hello.” Eclipse gave a smile but she wanted to leave. Not wishing to be rude she decided to walk around some before she ran from the over scented store. She looked at the cluttered shop shelves and her eyes landed on an ornate dragon mask. She frowned looking at it. She picked it up and turned it around curiously. There was writing in the back. She squinted trying to read it.

“It says to the wearer their heart will become fierce until the knight calms it.”

Eclipse jolted, having not even noticed the woman sneaking up behind her. She felt a cold chill as she looked at the woman’s smile as she chuckled.

“Don’t be so skittish dear.” she cooed and took the mask in her hands. Eclipse watched as she spun it around in her hands, producing a ribbon from the air and tying it on. “I wonder what form you would take?”

Eclipse could only gasp as the mask was shoved on her face and she was thrown from the shop.

She blinked a few times. She reached to remove the mask but it wouldn’t come off. In fact the more she tried the firmer it seemed to stick. She struggled and pulled. She felt a burning sensation starting to grow in her chest. She clawed and shoved at the mask. Her body began to contort as she feverishly tried to get the mask off. She gasped as her face felt the cold chill. She grit her teeth as she felt her face ripping at its own seams. Fangs jutting. She roared as her bones grew and rearranged, horns shoving through her skull as she fell to all fours. She clawed the cobblestone sidewalks of the small village as her clothing fell in shreds.

Wisps began to light up as black scales began to grow and cover her body as her newly formed tail lashed around. Large wings caught between bird and moth spread as she panted and slowly the burning subsided. She collapsed on the stone. Her head was heavy. She sighed.

“Way to go Moony. You walked into that one.” she groaned as she lifted her head to look herself over. She lifted a hand and looked at the claws and whined.

“Great.” she moved to stand. At least a dragon was similar in limbs to a wolf so she had that going for her. The wings were a new feature. She lifted one to inspect it and looked around. She had entered the shop in the downtown of Subcon City but.

Small buildings with no life surrounded the dragon-woman as she walked around. She raised her head to look at the rising moon and huffed. She turned to inspect for her bag among the remains of her clothes but couldn’t find it.

“Guess no phone calls.” she flicked her forked tongue as she jumped on top of one of the buildings. She narrowed her eyes as she saw a church and decided to get a better view.

A wind blew as she climbed up to the steeple and looked over the rolling fields.

She looked at the sky and sighed, “Fierce until the night calms it huh?” she shook her head side to side. “Hopefully this mask comes off soon then.” she ran off, deciding to enjoy the empty fields in the meanwhile.

------

“A dragon?” Snatcher asked as Kaya gave a frown. She scratched her cheek as he stood in her office.

“Yeah. reports of one in the old ruins of Tir na Nocht.” she sighed, “I put SO MANY BARRIERS!” she puffed her cheek annoyed, “I tried to make sure NOTHING would get into Ti Na Nocht when i left!” she fumed, “And this dragon comes WALTZING IN LIKE SHE OWNS IT!” she stomped her foot, “The worst bit is NO ONE CAN GET NEAR!”

“So what does that have to do with me?” he raised a brow, “You know I’m busy watching the kid since Eclipse is working a job.”

“See that’s the thing!” she frowned, “I thought she was home! I was going to ask HER to do this! She’s fought dragons before! And I would ask Jacob since he’s a dragonborn, but he went off on another mission last week with Maki and Tiffny to deal with an issue in the elvish kingdom.” she rubbed her neck.

“Why don’t you go?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” she scoffed, “NO ONE can get near!” She groaned and winced as she rolled her sleeves up, revealing bandages all over her arms. “I already TRIED and that bitch roasted me with wisps!” She whined, “And even my healing takes a bit when it’s soul fire.” she sighed, “it’s made to chew up magic in the first palace after all.”

His eyes widened as he looked. He hadn’t ever thought the Solaria Umbra could even be harmed, much less burned. He frowned, “So why me? I’m less resistant than you are.”

“You have a blessing of attraction. It should work on the dragon. If not throw this down.” she handed him a glass orb, “it’ll instantly send you back here.” she explained. “If you’re worried, I saw some Solgarian armor at your brother’s when I was visiting, you could wear that!” she teased, “a knight in shining armor!”

He thought about it and sighed, “Yeah, let’s do that then. Let me just text Cookie see if she can watch Hattie.”

“Oh, right the kid. I’d say i can watch but I need to drop you off, if it takes a bit I can get her from school even if my arms are bacon.” she snickered, “Since I am the one asking you to do this for me.” she moved around the desk and began to shift the shadows. Snatcher sighed and walked over as she used them to send them to the woods.

Marcus jumped as the two appeared on the porch. His potion flying from his hands. Kaya reached to catch it and screeched as it landed on her burned hands and then the floor. Marcus stared at the ruined mix and brushed his hair back annoyed.

“Yes?” he asked, hands on his hips as his tail wisped.

Kata frowned, “Can we take that Solgarian armor?” she asked, “I’m sending your brother to calm and agitated dragon down.”

“Ru? To a dragon?” Marcus deadpanned and rolled his eyes, “Sure I guess.”

“Sweet.” She moved the book shelf to head into the storage room. She grabbed the golden armor with a snicker, “Did you know my dad’s armor actually does have a similar look?” she asked.

“Does it?” Marcus floated over, “Interesting. But it makes sense. Father wanted his approval more than anything.”

Kaya snorted and chewed her lip.

“What?” Snatcher asked taking the suit.

“My dad LOATHES your dad,” she admitted as the two former princes stared.

She laughed loudly, “My dad thinks your dad is a fucking piece of shit who doesn’t deserve his bloodline!” she wheezed. She adjusted her bandages, “I mean he picked a fight with ME!” she snickered, “and my dad is a god of UNION not war.” she pointed out.

Snatcher snickered as he started to pull the armor on. “Yeah sounds right.”

“I pecking LOVE that fact!” Marcus cackled. He looked, “wow you still fit in that.”

“Huh?” Kaya blinked.

Snatcher adjusted the armor and looked around, “my sword should be here isn’t it?”

“Wait--” Kaya’s mouth dropped.

“Yeah I have it upstairs though on the wall display.” Marcus explained.

Kaya looked between them confused.

“Oh, cool. That’s easy.” Snatcher looked around, “is my scabbard around too?”

“Should be upstairs as well.”

“WAIT!” Kaya gasped getting their attention. She frowned, “are you saying that’s YOUR armor??? Not random?”

“Yes? It’s a little tighter but, this was when i used to train with the guards. I wasn’t about to get hurt. Estelle kept it here at the cabin after I was engaged as I didn’t fight anymore. Same with my sword.” Snatcher laughed at the teenager who shook her head and scoffed. He sneered, “What did you think I was a laze about?”

“N-No I just thought you were all books! The whole lawyer thing!” she admitted.

“I had no magic, of course I did something to protect myself!” He cackled.

Marcus snickered, “I can fight with a bow and arrow you know.”

She turned red and huffed, “well, I knew that one, i let you use my archery range.” she scowled, “L-Look let’s just get this dragon dealt with! I don’t want it to get more annoying!”

“Right.” Snatcher scowled.

“Kaya…” he stated as she looked at him.

“You said you thought Eclipse was home?” he asked, he’d thought on it for a bit but not too much, “I thought she was working. She had left and said she’d be out of cell service.”

“I called her phone and it said she was home.” she admitted with a frown, “I’ll look into it. Maybe she’s a frog again?” she suggested.

He frowned and nodded. “Please.” he scowled as he pulled his hair from his face, “let’s go get my sword and head off then.” His stomach flipped.

-----

Her claws traced the rocks as she snarled. It’d been a few days and she was starving. Nothing lived in the area that she could hunt. Her eyes narrowed as she felt someone getting near HER territory. She slunk across the grounds. Tail lashed around as she sniffed. She smelt that annoying twig that’d entered her territory a day before. But there was a new one. Sweet. Salty. She liked it. She licked her jaws as she growled.

“So a giant black dragon with weird wings?” he stated with a frown. He sighed as he looked at the barrier and stepped inside the area. Instantly he felt eyes on him. He frowned and reached for the hilt of his sword. He saw a flash of blue and held a hand up, the wisp nudging him. He chuckled. He frowned. His eyes grew wide.

Wisps.

He turned to where he felt the eyes and began to run towards it.

The dragon blinked in shock as the man came barreling at her. She reared up in her surprise and he looked up as she emerged from the grasses. He sighed.

“Guess I don’t need Kaya to look that up.” he reached his hands up.

The dragon whined and lowered her head. She nuzzled against him, chirping.

“What did you do you silly woman,” he asked as the dragon licked him. He snickered as he pet her muzzle. She purred as he rolled his eyes. He kissed the front of her nose and she huffed a small flame.

He frowned, “well. That didn’t work.” he scowled. A kiss didn’t work. He gasped when she pushed her head against him and he laughed as he reached at her horns. He frowned as he noticed an odd line of scales.

“Eclipse…” he frowned.

She blinked. Eclipse. Was that her? Her eyes flickered.

“Eclipse?” he asked a bit more forcefully. Her head hurt. She whined and pulled away from him.

He huffed and put his hands on his hips. She looked at the knight and growled. He made her head hurt.

“Eclipse show me your head again.” he ordered.

She shook her head and sat definitely. He glared and she lowered her head with a small huff of flames escaping her lips. He walked along and reached that odd line of scales. He frowned as his fingers traced it. It felt like an edge. He scowled and gripped it. The dragon lurched. He held tightly. He wrapped an arm around one of her horns as he gripped the edge. As he held it, it seemed to lift. He grit his teeth as she bucked and shook her head. She roared and growled as he continued to work on the edge, the scaling pulling up. He gasped as there was a spark of blue flame and the dragon collapsed to the ground. He winced as he hit the earth when she slammed into it in her collapse.

He pulled and slowly, her body shrank. The scales vanished, the sound of snapping bones as her body reworked to human form. He shifted her to his lap as he pulled the mask fully off. She laid unconscious on his lap. He sighed and looked at the mask in his hands. He lit it up in blue flames, the mask crackling as it burned to ash.

Shaking the remains from his hand and focused back on Eclipse. He brushed her hair from her face as her ragged breathing grew more steady. He felt his cheeks grow red as he realized she was naked.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. She looked up at him.

“Snatcher?” she asked softly. She groaned and moved to sit, falling against him. He gasped moving to steady her.

“Careful… you just were a huge ass dragon.” he snickered.

She whined and buried her face against his shoulder. He sighed and shifted to carry her. He felt her cling onto him and he was doing he best to not think about the fact he was carrying a naked woman with whom he had affections for. He felt his face heat up as he left the barrier.

Kaya stared in confusion. She stared with all four eyes and sighed heavily. She removed her over coat as she winced, handing it over to him.

“Thanks.” he used it to wrap Eclipse up.

“Of course she was the one to burn the shit out of my arms.” the demoness grumbled, “sooo any ideas?”

“A mask. A dragon mask. I burned it.” He scowled, “she didn’t seem to have any recognition.”

“What did it look like?” she asked with a huff. She looked at Eclipse with a scowl.

“Dark black, had a red ribbon on the back, had gold scales on it with ruby inlaid eyes.” he explained, “it was fused to her face.”

“To my love, may your heart grow fierce until your knight can calm it.” Kaya recited with a sigh and rubbed her neck with a groan, “An engagement mask from the dragon king. How odd. There shouldn’t be one in this realm…” She scowled as her fingers tapped her chin, “there’s no Dragon king in this reality so why would one of his engagement masks be here…” she sighed, “well I’m glad you got it off her. If she had it on too long, she’d have been a dragon forever.”

Snatcher scowled. He smiled softly as she moved some more in his arms. She looked up at him tiredly.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Hungry.” she admitted with a frown, “tired… sore… where am I?”

“Near the ruins of Tir-na-Nocht.” he explained, “you were a big dragon.”

“Was I?” she frowned as she shifted how she was in his arms. She squeaked and pulled Kaya’s coat close as she realized she was naked. She groaned and rested against Snatcher, “I don’t remember… I just remember I was in some weird shop and some lady shoved something on my face then it gets blurry. I smelt something really sweet and I just wanted to be near it.”

Snatcher felt his heart race, “O-Oh?”

“It was like… calming. I felt calm so I wanted it. Then I remember pain and I’m just so hungry.” she sighed as she closed her eyes.

“Sho--- OH GODS DAMNIT!” Kaya slapped her face and whined as she hit her own burns, “Red door? Smells HORRIBLE?”

“Yes?” Eclipse turned to look at the demoness who had pulled her phone out and was angrily texting.

“Clockwork Rose” she explained, “I bet you met Belle. She’s finicky like a cat. Says she likes to help people but I swear she makes more messes than not! Stupid interdimensional space witch!” she huffed, “I prefer Briar to her cuz at least Briar only messes with shit in her own territory but nooo Belle makes paperwork EVEYWHEREEE.” she hissed and hit send with a sigh, “Seems you must have been her plaything.

Snatcher froze, “Does she have red hair, like a bright red?” he paled.

“She does.” Kaya admitted, “and eyes that are either green or blue, like gemstones.”

“I-I’ve been in her shop,” he admitted. “She gave me a weird locket! It burnt Eclipse’s hand and made me hear her heartbeat.”

“It made you hear what?!” the woman gasped, red in the face. “I-I remember the locket a few months ago b-but!”

He nodded, “Yeah, it had a weird side effect. I don’t know why.” he sighed.

Kaya frowned as she thought about it and sighed, “let’s go home. I have enough work to do, more so knowing this crosses into spacial law. Damnit I wanted to watch a new episode of Calimari Stage.” she opened a portal and waited for them to enter. She looked back at the fields that were once her home and frowned.

She raised a hand and reached out.

“Kaya?” Snatcher called.

She pulled her hand and looked back. She gave a small smile. She ran towards the portal and shoved them through. Wincing at her burns.

A wisp danced beyond the barrier, giggling before vanishing.

#the little contractor #ahit au #ahit prince #ahit fan character #ahit snatcher #Eclipse Guardian #Prince Arulius #fanart #digital #lines #this was fun!!! interesting but fun!!!#Eclipse's curses are never simple lol she's not as easy to deal with as Ru is #but hey does anyone recognize his armor cuz I've drawn him in it before but as Snatcher for MG

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

flaneur

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: prince!haechan, baker!reader

Warnings: nothing severe, just jealous haechannie, unedited

day 29 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which the youngest prince hates his older brothers, his responsibilities, his title... everything except his late night chats with you.

// only the best things define what you mean to me // (x)

[22:23]

“I hate Jeno. Like, Mark is okay and Taeyong’s okay, too… But it’s Jeno that I really can’t stand,” the youngest of the four princes in your kingdom groaned, pausing in his chewing to stuff another piece of some of your freshly baked bread into his mouth. “God, how is your bread so good?” An amused smirk quirked up on your lips when he released a satisfied groan. “I’m serious, Y/N. Why don’t you work in the palace? This is so much better than the stale buns they serve with every meal.”

Crimson flames reached higher in the furnace behind you, casting a fiery color all over the walls, effectively hiding your rose colored cheeks. Every time since the first time he showed, Donghyuck never failed to compliment your baked creations. And every time since the first time, his compliments never failed to send your heartbeat racing towards the same unwarranted speed. “I’m flattered you think so,” came quietly from your lips as you pulled the dough out of the rising bowl.

“No, I know so, Y/N. You have got to be the best baker in the kingdom.” A heavy set of dark brown eyes settled over your figure as you worked, punching the excess air out of the sticky mixture. While most times, you weren’t one to enjoy people’s gaze on you while you worked, the young prince was different. There was a strange glint of excitement in his deep irises, fascinated with the way your hands went about forming what was soon to be a loaf of bread. The self conscious smile on your lips grew.

“But anyways, Jeno.” A terrifying scowl marred his previously pouting lips and the way the youngest prince said his brother’s name, so heavy with bitterness and distaste… it almost made you want to dislike the male as well. You shook the thoughts out of your mind and refocused back on the task at hand. You didn’t even know the guy. “My gosh, he’s the only thing I ever hear my parents talking about. At every social event it will always be, ‘ooh, duchess of x, y, and z, count of pizza or something... may I introduce you to my son, Prince Jeno? Yes, yes, he’s awfully handsome with his stupid, perfect hair and his stupid, straight nose that never broke in a riding accident-”

“A riding accident?” A startled gasp left your lips and you nearly dropped the piece of dough you had been rolling out. “Are you alright? Was that why I didn’t see you for a fortnight last month?”

For a brief moment, all the disgust covering his face melted into embarrassment when the nobleman realized his slip up. “N-not important,” he stuttered, waving the topic away just like that. You narrowed your eyes at your friend, taking note of the light dusting of pink covering his cheeks.

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, swallowing another bite of bread. “Back to Jeno - oh man, this bread is beyond heavenly. I should really bring some home and make like a secret stash somewhere in my wing - all I’ll ever hear at any meal, at every meeting, every passing within a good 10 feet within my parents is, ‘Jeno won that fencing tournament’ or ‘Jeno has been learning Latin and French. Won’t you say something for us, darling? With that annoying accent you make’... it’s always ‘Jeno this’, ‘Jeno that’, and the occasional ‘Prince Donghyuck, why can’t you do the things your older brother does? That would improve your public image, don’t you think?” The rage in his eyes burned brighter than the fire in the oven and Donghyuck chomped down unnecessarily hard on the last bit of bread in front of him.

You knew the life of a prince was nowhere near perfect. From what you had heard from the youngest prince, it was anything but. As a civilian, at least you were allowed your privacy. Donghyuck didn’t even have that. That was the reason, he admitted within the first month he began to confide in you, that he snuck out of the palace to visit you so often. That and that fact he appreciated the way you looked, concentrated, at peace, and breathtaking the way you sat and listened without any judgement. With your lips locked and dough rounded into rolls, you set them aside to rise again as you took a seat across from your regular visitor.

“Like okay,” Donghyuck sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “Taeyong’s married and out in his wife’s kingdom most of the year and we just heard they’re expecting. Like ‘whooo’ great… another unfortunate child stuck in the position of royalty.”

You frowned at this. It was no secret the youngest prince hated his title, at least not to you anymore. He hated the responsibilities that came with being in line for the throne, he hated the publicity, he hated the favoritism and the constant heavy eye of criticism. All you could do was rest a gentle hand on his forearm as he continued. “Mark is at the frontlines with the rest of the soldiers because he’s the only one my dad trusted with all the militia. That, and I think his fiancee got caught cheating with her bodyguard. So it’s been just me and Jeno for a while now. But he doesn’t even try to get along with me! Like every chance he gets, he’ll rub in all his accomplishments and how mother likes him better… It’s- it’s both mortifying to be related to someone who, for one, has never tasted your bread-” the two of you shared a laugh. “-and two, doesn’t know when to be humble. Like, okay, we get it, you speak three, different languages. Well, I can say ‘fuc-”

“Donghyuck,” you giggled, offering him one of the rolls you had made earlier this morning. “You told me you wanted to work on cursing less.” A sound of acknowledgement left his lips and he took the tasty morsel from your hands, snacking greedily on it.

In the brief moment of silence, you took the time to admire the young man that had made your late nights preparing for the hustle and bustle of the day much more meaningful. Though not much older than you, the young prince truly had a way of making you comfortable. The women of your kingdom would gossip to each other while shopping about how handsome the princes were, and while you never took part in these silly conversations you certainly held many of the same sentiments. However… contrary to many, you personally thought the youngest prince was much more handsome than his older twin.

While you had only ever seen Donghyuck in the dim light of the fire, what little light danced across his features was enough to bring the deepest of blushes to your face. His skin was a much richer color than his three older brothers and his eyes - when they weren’t angry - were soft and childlike. The youngest prince had a unique voice, smoother than any honey and melodic in its own accord. His smile and his laugh was infectious, never failing to spark joy within you. And, while you had only heard of the physical well-being of his older brothers, Donghyuck was lean and muscular, much more skilled than the average commoner in the arts of self defense and swordsmanship. The wistful sigh floated gently from your tired lips.

Oh yes, the youngest prince was the most handsome out of the four.

“Y/N?” his voice brought you out of your stupor and you blinked. The prince had already finished his fourth piece of bread that evening. “You’re staring, again. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you hummed airily, rolling up your sleeves to check on the rising dough. He paused in his loud chewing to shoot you a playful glare. You knew that he knew that you weren’t telling the full truth, but still you shrugged. “Just that you’re much too kind to deserve the indigestion you’ll get in the morning from eating all this bread.”

“Oh, hush,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve never gotten indigestion from eating /your/ bread. The bread from the palace, perhaps. But never your bread. I think I’ll be okay if I eat another-”

You smacked his outstretched hand away from the basket of day old bread off to the side. “Don’t you dare, your highness. Those are for the poor and hungry.” A childish pout appeared on his lips but he retracted his hands.

“Fine.” After another few minutes of drawing mindless doodles in the scattered flour on the table, Donghyuck looked up again. “Oh right, Y/N. I wanted to ask you something before I head home for the evening.”

“Anything, my prince.”

It seemed the young prince wrestled for a good, long moment with his thoughts as a lovely fuchsia dusted his cheeks… until finally, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot more and I was just... I wanted to know wh-what, like what would it take for me to convince you to come bake for me in the castle?”

a/n: thank youu for being patient~

272 notes · View notes

crushzone · 4 years

Note

Hi can I request some reader x Lev if that’s ok and if your comfortable, where whenever they are making out the reader keeps on giggling because of how ticklish they are 🤗

My Muse - Haikyuu!!

Character: Reader x Lev Haiba

Summary: An aspiring photographer in search of their muse, runs into Lev on one of their early morning photography escapades.

Word Count: 8,091

Warning: Fluff, none really, Lev the tickle monster? A little suggestive at one point, but he’s just being a tease lol.

Additional Notes:

Dear anon, I hope you enjoy this! Since your request allowed me a lot of room for exploration, I kind of took it for a spin, but I still hope you find the little ticklish kiss part fun!

As a camera nerd, I hope I was not too technical with this. If I had been, please let me know and I will make revisions haha. I figured it might be fine because if you’re not familiar with cameras, you will be just as confused as Lev was in this!

But if you are a fellow camera nerd, come talk to me because I would love to talk about film photography lol.

ALSO, a bonus quick doodle of model Lev I did to supplement my story. ;)

Please do not repost my work (and artwork), thank you!! 💕

—————————

Crank. Snap. Crank. Click.

You sigh in frustration as you come to the end of your film roll, slowly moving across from the beautiful alley cat in front of you to sit down on the side walk, being careful not to scare it away from its glorious pose.

It turns to look at you calmly with its blue eyes, subtly channeling the sassiest impatient expression you have ever seen on a feline, its white fur only surrounds its face like a mask, while the rest of its body is black. If this was your cat, you’d totally name it Erik, or Phantom, like the characters from Phantom of the Opera.

You pull out an empty canister, a pen and a roll of paper tape from your book bag and sets it next to you as you calmly wind your film, bringing it close to your ears so you can hear it click when it’s done. Then you pull the back cover open with confidence, loading your winded film into the empty canister, taping the top off, and uncapping your pen to label the date.

Looking up to make sure the cat is still there, then to the sky to sigh in relief that dawn is still awaiting your perfect shot. You look back down to your 35mm camera on your lap, re-loading it with a fresh new roll of film.

You close the back with a snap, as you pick the camera up from your lap, running your fingers up and down the side as you try to familiarize yourself with every dips and textures of the device.

Photography may be a hobby for some, but to you, it’s your dream. There’s just so much beauty in the world, so many people to capture, and so many quiet moments like this to remember. You love waking up very early in the morning to have a head start on readying for school, so you can take your sweet time, photographing quiet moments that only happens during the magic hour of dawn, on your way to class.

You bring your camera to frame up the cat, perfectly composing the shots with no spare inch to even bother cropping, because it was just complete.

Crank. You wind the lever of your camera, tongue licking your lower lip in anticipation. The cat perks its ears and its eyes widen, looking so lively and in its element, as if though it was posing for your camera.

“There you are!” A loud laughter sounds and from your peripheral, a VERY tall figure jumps at the cat.

Snap

Incredulous, you slowly pull your camera away from your face, no longer sure what you ended up capturing, and you will never know until you’ve develop your film at a later time.

If only you had applied a little more pressure to the shutter, a few seconds earlier, you would have been more sure.

“Oww!!” You finally look up from your camera to see a tall male with silver hair, gripping his hand with a wince, the cat no longer there.

With widened eyes, you take a few steps back. Your parent’s warning about dawn being the prime time for crimes, echos in your mind. But then he turns around with a pout and you can’t help but relax. There’s no way this guy can commit crimes.

“Y/n-san, and don’t judge anyone off their appearance, you never know who the criminal may be.” You mentally recall your mother’s voice, as you stiffen back up.

His eyes trained to his hand, brows furrowed, as he’s watching some blood drip to his wrist, still unaware of your presence.

“Are…are you ok?” You ask quietly, still debating if he’s going to kidnap or befriend you.

Like an eagle, his emerald orbs lock on to yours and you take another step back. He’s so intense.

But then just as quickly as his eyes had shifted to yours, a wide enthusiastic grin takes over his features, and you could have sworn that if he was a puppy, and a tall one indeed, his tail would be wagging rapidly.

“I didn’t see you there, I’m Lev!” He offers his injured hand for you to shake, but you just grab the tip of his long pointer and shakes it daintily; not wanting any of his blood on you.

You let go of his finger then digs through your book bag to pull out a water-bottle and some bandaid. “Here, it’s not much but it should be enough to get you to the nurse without scaring anyone.”

He blinks, a little surprised someone he had just met is so thoughtful to him before reaching his hand back out with a smile. You put your camera strap over you and swings it to the side, before washing away his blood with your water, allowing it to drip down his wrist and on to the ground.

He winces at the sensation of your cool water burning his wound; a strange juxtaposition. However, what’s stranger is that he can’t seem to will his eyes away from your concentrated face.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” You respond, one worded, still too focused on cleaning his wound to carry out a decent conversation. However, Lev did not pick up on the clue as he continues to converse.

“I don’t usually see a lot of people going to school this early. Is this your regular route?” He asks.

You bring your eyes to scan his uniform; White button up, red tie, black vest, and grey trousers that matches his hair color perfectly. A fellow Nekoma peer.

Meanwhile he brings his hand to the side to shake off the access water, swinging his palm up and down to air dry.

“Yea, I like to get up early so I can take some morning photos.”

You unwrap the bandaid packaging as you patiently wait for his hand to dry. Then when it is, you carefully position it so that the scratch only touches the non-adhesive cushion, throwing the crumpled wrapper back into your bag. It’s a tomorrow problem.

“I like getting up early too! There’s just something so magical about dawn, it paints the sky so pink, it almost looks like cotton candy.” He looks up to the sky, reaching his bandaged hand upwards in a grabby motion, as if he’s trying to pick a piece of cloud for himself.

You look up to him, his fair skin kissed by the warmth of the sky as his vibrant green eyes reflect the ball of sun that is shyly rising. your hand that’s been on the camera twitches as the urge to photograph the moment tempts you, but you decide against it, since you’ve only just met him.

Re-adjusting the strap of your book back out of habit, you begin to walk away from him.

“I should get going, nice to meet you.”

He blinks, confused as to why you’re leaving all of a sudden. “Hey, let’s head to school together!” He says, as he bounces up to you.

You turn to him with a sigh. If only he didn’t scare that cat away, you may have started off on a better foot.

“Sure.”

He beams at your response. The two of you continue your journey to school in an awkward silence; you’re generally not the most talkative person, and he’s suddenly feeling a little shy to say something because he senses the air being a little off.

“Your camera looks really cool. Where’d you get it?”

You pick your camera up in your hands and smiles fondly at it.

“My parents work at a vintage camera shop close to 8-Eleven. (nope, not a typo, it’s the store near Nekoma in their OVA) This Pentax K1000 is a new camera someone had just sold to us, it’s the one I’ve always wanted, so the moment it came in, my father gifted it to me.”

I actually own this camera, and it is my baby 💕

He finds himself smiling with you as he watches you run your hand over the material of the camera tenderly.

“Isn’t it a little scary when you can’t see what you’ve just shot?”

“I think that’s the charm of it. Sometimes I’ll take a photo, forget about it, and when I go to develop my film, I get to relive the moment again.” Your smile widens as you think back to all the silly photos you developed. “It also makes me very picky about my shots, so that all the photos I end up with are all very good ones.”

“That’s so cool! I wish I know how to develop a film!”

You chuckle, slowly warming yourself up to him. “Well, get me a completed roll of film and maybe I can teach you. I’ve done it so many times, I know the procedure like the back of my hand”

In a way, his enthusiasm reminds you of how you were when you were younger; always so excited to learn all the ropes your parents have to offer about film photography.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

He bounces energetically again. “I WILL get you a roll of shot film!” And then he stops with a pout. “But I don’t have a camera…”

You laugh, already predicting his dilemma even before he made his promise.

“I would lend you my Leica M2, but I don’t know you very well. You could be an irresponsible camera parent for all I know.”

He doesn’t even know any of the names you are saying, assuming that they are all just camera models, but it doesn’t matter. “I will prove to you that I am a very responsible camera parent, y/n-san.”

“Well, win my trust then, Lev.” You say with a small smile, continuing to walk ahead.

A determined smile slowly make its way to his lips as he brings his fist to punch the air. “I will, y/n-san, I’ll win your trust!"

———————

It is now lunch break, and you’re using your 30 minutes to head back to your parent’s camera shop, and grab some food along the way from 8-Eleven. Humming quietly to yourself, you bounce down the streets, wondering what new cameras might come in today.

Speaking of cameras, you wonder what you should photograph next. The film you’ve just loaded is a rather expensive one, best suited for portraits due to its outstanding ability to render skin tone.

Hmm, portraits. You mentally browse through a list of people that may be suitable for your next project, but you can’t seem to decide on one. No one had really caught your eyes recently…

“Y/n-san!!” You turn to the sound source, instantly feel your cheeks warm when you see a group of very attractive, mostly tall, men sitting at the bench in front of 8-Eleven.

Too many cuties in one photo lol.

They all look so good in their own kind of way…

Suddenly feeling very awkward, you look down to your feet after you’ve accidentally made eye contact with the bed head haired male who gave you a grin. When you look back up, all you could see is half a red bean bun being offered to you.

“Y/n-san! It’s so nice to see you again.” He says, chewing happily with a bright smile, mouth full with his half of the bun, and his long arm still outstretch to offer you his other half.

Look at him and Inuoka eating omg. 🥺

You suddenly have a difficult time gulping, and with widened eyes, you slowly force yourself to exhale. There’s a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach, a warm feeling that slowly crawls its way up your heart, then to the front of your forehead, as you feel the urge to explode, in tears? In laughter? In a whimper? You don’t know what is going on, and you’re just not going to think too hard about it as you look up at Lev chomping away at his food, oblivious of his effect on you.

How could he be so cheery all the time? It’s like his lips are made to smile and his eyes are made to glisten.

Like a robot, you stiffly bring both your hands up to accept half of his bun between your delicate fingers. You could have sworn the bread looked a lot smaller when it was in his hand.

“Thank you.”

He nods enthusiastically in return. “I was worried because we never really exchanged contact. So I spent a good couple of minutes trying to figure out how to see you again.”

You feel a rush of warmth to your cheeks as you slowly nibble at the soft bread, barely making it anywhere near the filling. “Did that work out for you?”

“Yea! You said your store was near 8-Eleven, so I asked my friends to come get lunch here with me!” He turns back to wave at his friends, though no one returned his gesture except for the tall male with spiky brown hair, waving back with matching enthusiasm. (Inuoka 🥺)

He asked his friends to get lunch here just so he can maybe run into you again?

Looking off to the side, you continue to nibble at your bun, thankful that he’s offered it to you because you’re suddenly too shy to enter 8-Eleven with all those attractive guys sitting in front of it.

“So where are you headed to?” He looks at you with a soft smile, finding the fact that you’re holding your food with two hands very endearing, like a little chipmunk.

“I’m just heading to the shop, I wanted to see if there’s going to be any new cameras that might come in today.”

“Oooh, can I come with?” He leans down to look at you and you can’t resist his eager eyes.

“Sure.” Then you walk off with him happily trailing next to you, readjusting his steps to match your speed.

At the bench, Yaku is holding a melted ice cream, the dessert no longer holding its integrity as the liquid drips down his wrists and on to his grey trousers. He puts it in front of him so it drips to the ground instead, teeth gritting in frustration.

“Freaking Lev! Why would he ask me to hold his ice cream if he’s not planning on getting it back.” He frowns as he watches his tall friend leave with you.

“He forgot his bag too!” Inuoka says when he notices that all their bags are still perfectly lined up next to each other’s.

Kuroo finishes his box of milk with a few airy sips, and tosses it into the garbage bin. “This guy…whoever they were just got him hooked.”

Kenma looks up from his game momentarily to glance at the two of you before looking back down without a word.

—————

The bell to your parent’s store jingles when you open the front door, allowing it to slowly recline back to close.

Your father’s eyes light up when he sees you bounce towards the counter with an enthusiastic grin, while your mother waves at you from the cashier. “I’m here to bother you during my lunch break again!”

Your parents laugh, clearly not bothered by your visits at all, they almost expected you to. Your father looks to the tall boy next to you with a warm smile. “Welcome to our shop!”

Lev smiles back, bowing politely to him then to your mother before leaning back up to look at you. “This is my friend Lev, he just wants to swing by and check out our store.”

“Glad to hear that!” Your father laughs as he sets down a big cardboard box filled with new cameras that arrived today on the glass counter. “Check out our new arrivals!”

You gasp when you spot a model you love, reaching in to pick it up delicately, as if it’s a newborn baby. “N-No way!! A Fujifilm point and shoot in collaboration with Disney?!”

“Yea! You should have seen the guy who came over to sell it!” Your dad begins.

Your mother turns around in her seat and laughs. “He was all dressed up in a Donald Duck t-shirt and Mickey jeans.”

Why are you so excited over a Mickey Mouse on a camera? Lev tilts his head, a little confused but he’s happy you’re happy.

You turn to him with your sparkles in your eyes and his brightens right back. “I can’t believe a collector in this town decided to sell it to us. This is a very rare collection, and in such pristine condition too.”

I guess, who wouldn’t be happy to see Mickey Mouse on a camera. He’s happy for you.

“Whoa!” He says, unsure what else he could add on to keep your smiles going for longer. “Y/n-san, what kind of photos do you take?”

You set the camera back into the box and picks up another to inspect its condition. “All sorts! I do a lot of street photographies, but I’ll have occasional cravings to do fashion portraits too.”

Your father was about to discuss more exciting facts about the camera in your hand, but your mother places her hand on his bicep to silence him with a smile, nodding towards you and Lev who are conversing happily. The two of you are in your own little bubble.

“That’s so cool! I’d love to have a look at your photos sometime!”

“I would love for you to see it! I have it in my room if you’d like to!”

Nodding his head quickly, he responds. “Yes please!!”

You set the camera back down again and walks over to the employees only door that leads up to your home above the shop. “Thanks for sharing these with me dad! I’ll come look into it some more after school!”

“Of course, honey, There might even be more later!”

With an excited nod, you turn to walk up the stairs with Lev behind you.

——————

“Whoa, Y/n-san!!!” He dashes to the collage of photographs next to your bed, eyeing every single one of them with his eyes sparkling. “Are you sure you don’t work for an editorial or something?!”

You laugh timidly as you sit on the bed, bringing your hand to rub the back of your neck shyly, you’ve never been good at taking compliments. “That makes me happy to hear, Lev, I’ve always wanted to work as an editorial photographer.”

“You should! I know you will.” He says with so much confidence, it almost felt like you’ve known him for much longer than just this morning.

He notices you have one particular male model reoccur in a few of your photoshoots. “Are these your friends, y/n-san?”

“Not really, I’m not really too close to anyone here. But I’m not afraid to ask random people who’s caught my eye to model for me.” Then you look up to see that he’s pointing to a specific model, causing you to look down with your cheeks warm. “Oh, him. We used to be neighbors, but he doesn’t go to Nekoma anymore.” He was your first real crush.

Not quite getting the answer he was looking for, he decides to brush it off and continue to look at your other photos, comically leaning his lanky limbs down just so he can have a closer look.

Meanwhile, you can’t help but draw your eyes back to Lev, unintentionally studying his features: eyes very feline-like, as he studies your photographs like a snow leopard with his big hands on his long long legs. He would look so great with olive on his smooth skin, one that would accentuate the definition of his long neck that leads up to his defined jaws. Perhaps a button up with some free flowing trousers?

Gosh…he is beautiful, how have you not realized it this morning.

Sensing the silence in the room, he glances over to see your eyes immediately snap away from him as you look down to your lap while fiddling with the material of your comforter.

But that doesn’t bother him, he likes that you notice him.

“How come I don’t see you in any of these photos?” He asks, standing up tall.

“Because I’m the one taking the photos? Also, I don’t think I’m too photogenic.”

“Nonsense!” You look up to see him smile cheekily at you, and you almost just want to raise your camera to photograph him again. “You have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen!”

You feel immense heat rise up your cheeks and that warm feeling in your gut returns, but before you could burst, he adds.

“But that’s ok! I guess I’ll just have to earn your trust so I can photograph you with the Leila 2.”

You blink before you begin to laugh, finding his failed attempt to remember the names of your camera incredibly endearing. “My Leica M2?”

“I was so close! Yes, that one!” He laughs.

Your laugh slowly settles when you look at his face for the 100th time today, the after smile still apparent on your lips, but your eyes are enchanted by his boyish charm.

You want to photograph him so bad…

“Lev…” You breath, he stops laughing and looks at you, a glint of expectation in his eyes.

“Hmm?”

Your eyes widened when you realized you actually attempted to speak your mind. “Uhh, um. Nothing…we should probably head back to school.”

His expectation dissipates, replaced by a nod and an unintentional flirty smile. “Yea, but after I get your number?” (Smooth. Lev totally gives me that unintentional flirty boy vibe, where everyone thinks he’s flirting with them, until you realize that he’s just generally friendly lol.)

He doesn’t even know what he was expecting, but he can’t seem to stop himself from trying to learn more about what else might make you smile.

—————

It had been over a month since you’ve met him, and the two of you had been texting frequently. Some days when he’s extra busy with volleyball, you find yourself constantly glancing at your phone in anticipation for his response to just about anything you sent him. When you do get a notification from him, you can’t help but smile widely as you finger rushes to see what he’s said.

You would wake up and fall asleep to his texts, and though you’ve denied your expectations of receiving his daily greetings, he never seems to let you down. It makes you feel special, like he’s always here with you, thinking of you.

Some days, he’ll show up to your shop after practice when you are close to the end of your night shift, just to say hi, and eat some quick dinner together before he has to run home.

Your parents keep asking you about Lev, but you would always tell them that he’s just your friend, and they would exchange knowing looks to one another.

“Oh sweetie, Lev came by last night and he wanted us to give this to you, first thing in the morning.”

Your mother pulls out a neatly wrapped present with Mickey Mouse printed all over it. Your heart flutters with joy as you feel heat rush to your cheeks and the corners of your lips automatically rise. You reach your arms out to bring it to your chest, before excusing yourself back up stairs.

“I like this one.” Your mother says to your father, who nods happily.

“Yea, I like him a lot too.”

——————

Shutting the door lightly behind you, you flop down on your bed with the present in front of you on the pillow. This is the first time someone aside from your parents had ever gifted you on your birthday.

Reaching for your phone, you move the present on to your prettier blanket before snapping a quick photo of it to send to Lev. He responds almost instantly.

y/n [6:10 AM]

-photo-

Lev!!! Thank you so much for your present!

Lev [6:10 AM]

Yayy, I’m so glad! Have you opened it?! :D

y/n [6:11 AM]

Not yet! I’m just excited.

Lev [6:11AM]

Well, open it, y/n-san. I hope you’ll like it.

You set your phone down to unwrap your present, until you hear another ping.

Lev [6:13 AM]

WAITTT!!!

Y/n!!

Let’s video call! I want to see your reaction. :)

Suddenly you’ve become very nervous, you’ve never video called him before and you weren’t properly dressed yet. You look down to inspect the current state of your appearance: oversized hoodie and boxer shorts, your hair is a mess and your teeth had not been brushed.

You could hold off on unwrapping your present, but you recall your parents specifically say that he wanted it to be given to you, first thing in the morning. But the lingering drowsiness from waking up so early, still weighs your lids and the thought of peeling off your comfortable hoodie and clothing your bare legs feel unbearably troublesome.

Lev [6:17 AM]

Y/n san??

Screw it.

You force yourself not to think too much as you hit a video icon under his name, and he picks up almost right away.

“Y/n-san, happy birthday!” He says, voice still a little husky from sleep, and you instantly feel your heart beat just a little faster as you eye his appearance through your small screen. His silver hair is still messy, unlike his usual neat side sweep, and he’s still bundled up in his purple blanket, allowing his toned arms to come in full display when he hugs a pillow that’s under his chest. Something about his undone appearance makes you want to be right there with him.

“Lev-san!” You gulp as you try to divert your eyes back to his sleepy smile as he lazily rests his chin on a pillow. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nope! I had to be up anyway. Now, open open!” He gestures with a nod.

You set your phone down on your pillow as you sit cross legged in the center of your bed with the present on your lap. He pulls his phone closer to subtly check you out; secretly imagining you in his hoodie instead, then blushes when he notices your bare legs, the hem of your plaid boxers only peaking shyly.

If only his phone would not make a snapping sound, he would have screen grabbed this image of you, looking so temptingly undone. (<- What would he do with the photo tho 👀😉 )

You read the tag and begins to smile, moving your fingers to carefully unwrap the golden ribbons and the dotted paper, making sure to not to rip anything by accident.

Lev sets his phone against his pillow, then leans onto the back of his hands as he watches you with a smile. Your happiness is just so infectious, and he can’t stop himself from craving it.

You squeal and giggle happily when you pull out the camera strap and 3 rolls of film you’ve always had your eyes on. His eyes sparkles and his smile widens at your reaction, as he laughs with you.

He wants this moment to last. He wants to keep seeing you smile.

—————

You did it, you finally asked Lev to model for you.

It had been 2 months since you’ve done any photoshoots, and you can’t seem to figure out why you found it so difficult to ask him to model for you…

You think back to your other failed attempts and face palms yourself when you try to recount all the times you would watch him in his moment in awe, then his name would slip from your lips without your mind’s consent. When he responds and urges you to continue, you would always look away and change the subject.

He steps out of your restroom in the clothes you’ve handed him, and you can’t help but stare.

“Is this ok?” He asks innocently.

And he is more than okay.

He looks even better than how you’ve always imagined him to: standing so tall in his olive button up and brown trousers, his top unbuttoned down by two. His shoulders are a lot broader and his waist more snatched than how you’ve imagined him under Nekoma’s ill-fitting uniform.

Here’s my quick doodle of Lev for this fic haha.

You run your eyes up and down his figure, trying to come off like you’re looking over his outfit, but really, you’re trying to brush off the tingly feeling at the tip of your ears.

“If you’re comfortable…” You hesitate, as you realize your request may be too much to ask for. “umm…if you could unbutton one more?…ah, only if you’re comfortable, you don’t have t-“ You continue to ramble but he just nods and unbuttons his third one, revealing his toned chest.

You eyes widen because you were not expecting him to be so chiseled, but that actually makes a lot of sense since he’s a volleyball player after all. Then you look away with your cheeks flushed when he grins at you with a wink. (Ah 😳)

Damn him and his pecks.

You mentally shake your head to snap yourself out of his allure, rummaging through your bag on your lap. “Oh…I almost forgot.” Pulling out your black camera, you offer it to him with a smile. “Here’s my Leica M2!”

He beams and carefully holds it in his large hands, the way he’s observe you when you inspect the store’s new arrival; like a newborn.

“Yes!!! Thank you so much, I almost thought you forgot about it.” Without hesitance, he walks over to his bag that’s next to you on the bed, then pulls out a roll of film. You look at him a little surprised.

“When did you get that roll?”

“Oh, your parents gave it to me on one of the times when I came to visit, but you weren’t here.” He gets on his knees beside you, putting the camera on your bed to perform his first loading operation. You blink when he does it so calmly and so perfectly, snapping the back shut before cranking the lever until the notch reads 0: ready for its first real shot.

“H-How? What? When did you know how to do that?” He looks at you with an excited smile.

“Your father taught me this! Haha.”

Your confusion fades as you begin to feel a little down; you wanted to teach Lev how to shoot on film…”Did he teach you how to develop film too?” You say quietly as you get up with your bag strapped across your shoulder.

His eyes widen, suddenly realizing why you’ve stopped smiling. “No, I asked him not to because I want you to be the one to teach me.” He gets up from his knees to take a step towards you. “Will you help me with that, Y/n-san?”

“Yea.” You take a moment before responding, turning to walk away, but he brings your wrist into both his palms.

“Y/n-san…I’m sorry if I made you sad.”

He sits on the edge of your bed, then gently tugs you into his arms, resting his head against your right shoulder, with one of his large hands comfortably on the small of your back while the other’s on your nape.

You immediately stiffen up before slowly allowing yourself to relax in his warmth, bringing your arms to shyly wrap around his waists and leaning your head on top of his, inhaling slowly to bask in the fresh scent of his silver strands. The two of you stay that way a while, maybe a little longer than you should, before he shifts to look at you. A strange feeling in your stomach at the unusual sight of his face so close to yours at eye level.

You look right back into his captivating orbs, the charm of his feline-like eyes hold your gaze captive, and like a magnet, you find yourself leaning closer to him as he does the same. Before your mind could register the situation, your soft lips meets his plush ones, and like a feather, he starts with a gentle pucker; a kiss to show that he is grateful to be here with you.

Then another, this time pulling his lower lip to brush against yours before firmly lining it up, his eyes half lidded, drunken on the sweetness of your taste: he’s kindly begging to see happiness return to your oculus.

His arms around your body tightens, as an intense craving for your warmth flushed against his body becomes unbearable. Any skin to skin he can feel, he’ll gladly cherish.

You two pull back to look into each other’s eyes, and like a competition to see who has the better attention to detail, your gaze dances up and down his features, as you ingrain every dust of subtle freckles on his nose and every strand of his fluttery lashes in your mind. Then you bring both your hands to his soft cheeks to pull him back in for a firmer kiss.

This time, he runs the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance as you gladly grant him access. Your tongue dances with his in new found harmony, before switching back to your firmer kisses, falling into a natural rhythm.

He squeezes his hand on your lower back to deepen the kiss and he can’t help but smile to your warm lips when he hears a small giggle vibrate from your throat.

He pulls back, keeping his face very close to yours as he looks down at you, half lidded, with a growing smirk. “I see someone’s a little ticklish.”

“No, I’m not.” As you’re trying to push him away with both your hands, he pulls you in closer with a laugh, reconnecting his lips to yours while his hands ladders up your sides, down your back then to the back of your neck, gently squeezing as he go.

You squirm in his arms, trying to contain your laughter as you try to focus on kissing him, but you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. He pulls back to study your adorable expressions before nuzzling his face to your neck, making sure to breath heavily so you can giggle some more for him.

He is hooked, this is his new addiction.

“Lev, I’m going to kill you!” You giggle as you try to weakly push his head away, but he only nuzzles you harder, wiggling both his hands up and down your sides. “Hahahah!”

The fact that he has you pinned so tightly, heightens your sensitivity as you are tempted to give in to your hysteria.

Then an idea pops up in his mind.

“Y/n-san, wait here.” He says as he sets you free, allowing you to catch your breath as you clutch your sides in an attempt to rid your goosebumps of its phantom. He grabs your camera from the bed, then walks over to set it up on your dresser, opposite to you.

“How do you set a timer on this?”

“There should be a notch to the side.” You respond out of instinct, though you are a little confused as to what he’s trying to capture. Your room is messy from all the clothes you have laid out for Lev to try, and the sun is way too direct to be flattering.

Crank. Tik, tik, tik.

He hovers his hands over the camera for a moment, making sure that it will not fall, then sits back down on his previous spot on the bed. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pulls you to his lap then leans down to kiss you with one hand to support the back of your head, simultaneously fluttering his long fingers on the small strip of exposed skin above your waistband. You squirm ticklishly, no longer able to hold back your sweet giggles as he laughs at your reaction, leaning down to trail ghost-like kisses down your chin. He’s thoroughly enjoying himself. Snap.

“Yay, my first shot!” He exclaims excitedly, still tickling and easily holding down your thrashing body with his big hands.

“Haha, you…evil!” You manage mid giggle as you weakly reach your arms out to wiggle at his waist with your long nails, causing him to double over, laughing, before swinging you on to the bed so that he doesn’t drop you by accident.

With his long legs straddling your waist, he pounces at you with both hands, tickling you mercilessly all over, shifting between spots so swiftly that you are not allowed any chance to grab his wrists. When you’ve given up on your defense, you diverted to the offensive, feathering your nails up his exposed neck then to the back of his ears. He laughs obnoxiously, then in an attempt to worsen your predicament, he nuzzles his nose against your neck, using his laugh as a weapon to tickle you with his erratic breaths.

“Ok, ok, I surrender haha.” He giggles, as he tries to stop you by easily grasping both your wrists into one of his large hands and pinning it above your head. Oddly enough, it almost did not seem like you’re the winner here. 😳

Realizing the suggestive position you are both in, he lets go of your wrist to bring one of his calloused hands to tenderly caress your warm cheek, his eyes look to yours with adoration. He didn’t want this moment to be lewd, he just wants it to be soft and genuine.

“I like you a lot, y/n-san.”

You cup his face with your hands before pulling him down to place a kiss to his forehead. “I like you too.”

Then your eyes catch a glimpse of his torso to see that his outfit is now wrinkly again, and from his position above you, gravity had tugged his half unbuttoned shirt revealingly, allowing you to see all the way down his chiseled abs.

You gulp. Oh boy, and here you thought he’s all fluff.

He notices you checking him out, then gives you the biggest, cheekiest grin as he leans down to nibble your ear.

“Like what you see?”

“Shut up.” Smacking his flexed bicep in embarrassment, only to feel heat rising to your head as you felt how rock solid it was.

“I’m going to say it!”

“Stop”

“Why don’t you take a photo of it then.” He says with a wink, earning a laugh and a facepalm from you.

“Goof, I will.”

—————

After getting Lev re-dressed, you take him to all the different places you thought were interesting, mostly away from public eyes. To your surprise, he poses very naturally, you barely have to give him any direction as he just automatically find ways to work his body in harmony with the settings.

Anywhere you go, and everyone you pass, people always seem to turn their heads back around to look at him; some were gazes of infatuated while some were of jealousy. But the amusing part of it all is how oblivious he had been about the looks he’s gotten, instead, his attention is all on you, and that really made you feel a stronger connection to him; both as his significant other and his photographer.

With any moment you were with him that day, you can’t help but raise your camera up to capture all the small things Lev would do; randomly reaching out to touch a small branch as he walks, leaning all the way down to talk to a cat by the side of the streets, and smiling widely every time you call his name, as if he’s meeting you for the first time after a very long time.

You want to capture it all with your camera; a physical manifestation of your memory. And you’re not the only one, sometimes you’ll catch him pull out his camera when you are fiddling with yours, or when the sun would kiss your radiant skin while you look up to the bright blue sky with your fist above you, something you would always do to discern the direction of your shadows. When you turn to him after hearing a snap, he would give you the cheekiest grin, before running up to you like nothing had happened.

Lev is as fascinated of you as you are of him.

You’ve read that a good photographer is able to draw a relationship with any of their models, but there is something really special about a session with someone you share personal interests with outside of the studio.

You never knew how it felt like to have someone like that to photograph, but today is the first time in a long time where every shutter feels like a blink, and the lens you look through feels like the extension of your pupils.

—————

You could have developed the film you’ve shot with Lev that same day, but you decided to be nice and wait until he’s done with his before doing so, since your tank could hold two rolls each time.

It had been a week since that shoot, and you’re surprised when Lev barges into your camera shop after his practice with the cat you’ve attempted to photograph months ago, dangling pathetically in his hands. He raises it up with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“I think I finished my roll!”

Leaning on the glass counter at the shop, a big smile slowly creeps to your lips. His enthusiasm is so contagious, and seeing him definitely brights up your day every time.

“Congrats! Come here, let’s wind it up”

He sets the cat down, outside of your shop, petting it goodbye, before bouncing up to you and setting the camera down gently on the glass.

“Ok, so you’re going to want to pull this lever up half way, then with the other hand, press down on this little button.” You go to explain the steps, pointing to the different parts of the camera and miming your motion before handing it back to him. “Try it!”

He tries to follow your instructions, nervously pulling the lever up halfway, pressing the button underneath the camera, then begins to unwind. You bring your ear close to the camera to listen for a click, and he does the same.

Click.

Both your eyes light up, as he looks to you for approval before opening up the back. The film roll looks hilariously tiny in his large hands as he holds it out to you happily. “I did it!”

“Good job, Lev! Now you can put that in your empty canister!”

But he’s already at it, nodding happily as he rummages through his gym bag for one. Once it’s in, you hand him a tape and he concentrates on labelling it before handing the tape and pen back to you with a smile.

“I really can’t wait!” He hands your camera back to you, but instead, you shake your head.

“It’s yours. I’ve had it for a long time now.” His eyes widen as he reaches across the counter to pull you into a hug, placing a small kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you so much, I will be a very good camera parent!” You laugh.

“You had been! That’s why I trust you” And he smiles back so widely, you never want to feel his arms unwrap itself from your torso.

—————

When your shift is over that night, you bring Lev to your room to demonstrate the procedure with your roll of exposed film, so he can see it with the lights on. You had him reattempt it a few times with his eyes closed, occasionally reaching your hands out to guide him.

Once he feels confident enough, which was very quickly, you lay out everything you need on your bed, tells Lev to sit on the mattress, crosslegged, before throwing a blanket over him and all the tools.

You take a step back to laugh when you notice how silly this looks; Lev looks like a giant on your bed, and now that there’s a blanket over him, he can’t seem to stop giggling.

“Alright, I’m turning off the lights. Hold tight, you blanket monster."

Then you draw your blackout curtains, turns off all the lights and makes sure that your room is completely dark before climbing under the blanket, opposite to him. You didn’t tumble or walk into anything at all since you’ve done this so many times.

“Ok, so treat this just like your practice run! I find it easier to keep your eyes closed.”

He nods, but then he quickly realizes that you could not see him. “Ok!”

Reaching for his film, he begins working on his operation, surprisingly calmly, though he did fumble and struggle to load his strip on to his roll, he kept persisting. Meanwhile, you work on yours in silence and with very precise movements.

Soon after, you load both your films into your tub and closes the lid, before pulling the blanket off.

“Oof, it was hot in there!” He says, stretching his arms up in the dark while you set the tub on your desk before turning the lights back on.

“You’re like a human furnace, it’s never been that warm under the blankets before. how was it?”

He does the grabby hands and pulls you back on to his lap, placing a small kiss to your nose before responding.

“It was really comforting.” Then he gently squeezes his hand on your waist, causing you to wiggle out of his gasp with a squeal.

“I’m not falling for that again!” You exclaim, sitting on the the ground with your arms around your torso to protect yourself from the tickle monster.

He laughs loudly. “But you’re so adorable!”

————

Lev eventually left to go home after the film was developed.

Excited to see the results of your photoshoot, you stayed up late to scan all the shots. Once it’s done, you disconnect your laptop so you can sit on your bed with your back against the wall, happily flipping through the shots while snacking on some dates.

As expected, all your shots of Lev turned out very well, and you can’t help but linger on some of the photos, obsessing over just how effortlessly captivating he look; he’ll look so seductive in one, looking down at the camera, half lidded with the slightest hint of a playful smirk, while in the next, he’ll look so innocent, with his face tilted slightly downwards, and his almond eyes subtly widened, allowing the sun to bounce off the vibrancy of his gem colored orbs.

You can’t believe that his only modeling experience was of him with his sister, on an ice cream commercial when he was 5. You laugh at the thought of him smothering his face with ice cream.

But what surprises you most is Lev’s album; with photos of you taking up more than half of his roll, and they were all very well shot too. Do I really look like this?

You hate being photographed, but upon looking through his shots of you, you can’t help but feel the warmth of happiness radiate from within your heart.

Through his lens, you looked so authentic and genuinely happy. He captured you at moments you never knew was worth capturing, and you begin to wonder if he had the same urge to photograph you as badly as you did for him, when you first met in the alley at dawn.

Recounting back to all the times you felt his eyes watch you appreciatively, with a warm smile. He makes you feel loved, and special.

You come to realize why you hate to be photographed; you never felt worthy enough to spend a roll of film on. But he’s proving you wrong, as you now understand the way he sees you.

He sees you for you. It’s as simple as that.

Then at the end of the album, you see a photo that brings the happiest smile to your lips: it was his first shot where he’s tickling you. The light that you thought was too direct, turned out to be perfectly exposed, rimming the two of you beautifully, while the mess on your bed provided authenticity to the photo. You can’t help but smile wider as you remember the exact moment when you two kissed for the first time.

You’ve finally found your muse.

——————

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