#anyways i tripped and this appeared on my canvas

[saphirdevil]

idk whats goign guys

isaid i wasnt going to draw them seriouslt again..

[senditcolton]

...but you're going to

You're not saying your in love with me... I'm not saying, "do it anyway"...

summary: when a freshly heartbroken Cassandra Moore proposes going on a tropical vacation to an equally disappointed Leon Draisaitl, all she expects out of the trip is healing and some quality time with her best friend. but she quickly learns that the universe love to throw punches when you least expect them. song inspo: BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish and Cool by Dua Lipa word count: 10.7k warnings: fighting and some sexual innuendowritten for @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange to @thewintersoldierdisaster with love ⛱️💛

When the oak door swings open, bringing Cassandra Moore face-to-face with star hockey player Leon Draisaitl, she can’t stop the smile that appears on her face. Even though her upturned lips are twinged with sadness – a sadness that is mirrored on Leon’s face.

“I brought consolation ice cream,” she says, holding up her canvas tote bag.

Leon doesn’t say anything, just leaves the door open for Cassandra to follow him into his house like she’s done a hundred times before.

“Why do our breakdowns always happen at the same time?” he questions.

“Maybe it’s the universe telling us that we’re meant for each other,” Cassandra jokes, waltzing into Leon’s kitchen and hopping up onto one of the bar stools lined against the counter. Her hands fish out the pint of ice cream while Leon reaches into one of the kitchen drawers before extending a spoon to her.

“I am sorry about the finals,” she says, her voice genuine. “Win or lose, we’re all really proud of you here in Edmonton.”

“Thanks Cassie. I would say sorry about your break-up but… I mean, I did tell you. He was an asshole.”

Cassandra just rolls her eyes, taking a heaping scoop of ice cream from the carton, shoveling it into her mouth before replying.

“You’ve said that about every guy I’ve dated,” she retorts. “Not sure if you’re the most impartial person here.”

“And yet, here you are in my kitchen, wallowing in pity and desserts… again,” Leon teases her back. “I’d say my judgement is pretty spot on.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie waves him off, taking another bite before shrugging. “He was kind of a dick though.”

The soft snorting chuckle falls from Leon’s lips, the sound making a smile appear on Cassandra’s face. Her best friend looks up, his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive look as he appraises her – blonde hair pulled up in a bun and her classic loungewear of a tank and sweatpants hanging on her frame.

“What caused it this time?” he asks, the words gentle – a tone that Cassie appreciates. This was one of the many reasons why she liked being friends with Leon; he expertly toed the line between distracting her and letting her talk out her emotions. She just sighs, taking another spoonful of ice cream before responding.

“Didn’t feel like I was being appreciated. Thought I gave a lot of time and effort but never really got much in return.”

“You deserve better.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cassandra laughs, her eyes darting back up towards her best friend. “I could say the same about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

Leon’s eyes lift to connect with hers and Cassandra can feel a small pang in her chest at the sight of the pain that she saw lingering deep in his irises. She just keeps him underneath her gentle gaze before he sighs, his own spoon diving into the ice cream carton.

“I really thought it was our year,” he mumbles, his own eyes downcast.

Cassie doesn’t reply – she wouldn’t really know what to say anyway. She just allows the silence to linger over them for a moment, letting the only noise being the hum of Leon’s air conditioning. She takes in the two of them, leaning against the cool marble island and drowning their sorrows with sugar.

“We’ve got to be the saddest sacks in all of Alberta, right now,” Cassie says, finally breaking the silence with a sarcastic laugh. Leon returns her words with a grin and a raising of his spoon.

“Cheers to us,” he replies, that dry humor that she had come to love ringing out around the kitchen. She laughs, raising her own spoon in a salute before they both take another bite.

The comfortable silence falls, enveloping them both. Cassandra twirls her spoon between her fingers, her mind wandering, eyes dancing over the cabinets before landing on Leon again. She takes in his appearance; his disheveled hair, the far-away look in his eyes. Her gaze flits across his body, counting the bruises that still litter his skin before returning to his face.

The weight of her stare must have been heavy enough for Leon to notice, his blue eyes lifting to meet hers.

“What?”

The question falls from his lips, simple and easy to answer or wave off. Yet Cassie finds the words stuck in her throat. There was a purpose to her visit – beyond the consolation treats and easy friendship. She just wasn’t sure how to bring up the insane request that she had stowed in the back of her mind.

“Hello? Earth to Cass.”

Leon’s voice pulls her out of her head, that gentle smirk playing on his lips. A smirk that she matches.

“I was just thinking… do you know what we need?” she asks, deciding in that split second to dive headfirst into the wild proposal that she was about to make.

“What’s that?”

“A vacation.”

“That’d be nice,” Leon laughs, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice as his hand moves to take another spoonful of ice cream. “Did you have anything in mind?”

It is clear to Cassandra that he is ready to make a joke of this, laughing at the wild – but obviously fictional – adventures that would fall from her lips: skydiving, bungee jumping, parasailing. Each suggestion more ridiculous than the last. That’s how it usually went. That’s how this conversation was supposed to go. But when Leon looks up and sees the pink tinge smattered across her cheekbones, his smile drops.

“Cassie…” he says, elongating her name as a cautious warning.

“Okay, just hear me out.”

“I don’t even know what you’re about to say.”

“That’s why you need to hear me out,” she retorts and Leon know that he has no rebuttal and lets her continue. “So, like a month ago, Tristan and I signed up for this cool trip to the Bahamas. Like, all expenses paid tropical excursion with a guided boat tour that includes snorkeling and swimming with the pigs.”

“Pigs?”

“Yeah, wild pigs that you can swim with. Anyway, the tickets we bought included a plus-one, something we didn’t realize until we had already purchased them. And we didn’t feel like going through the hassle of trying to get a refund so we thought that we would invite Stella and Dylan, sort of a double date. But now… I mean, you know what happened. And long story short, I have a ticket to the Bahamas and I can bring someone along with me so I was wondering if you would like to come.”

Cassandra’s ranting finally ends, the long-winded explanation reaching its conclusion, the silence falling once again. She keeps her eyes locked onto Leon, trying to read every miniscule expression that crosses his face and prepare for whatever reaction may come.

“So, let me get this straight,” Leon begins, finally speaking. “You’re asking me to go on a tropical vacation with you? One that you were planning on going on with your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Cassie retorts. She sees the exasperated look appear on Leon’s face and she knows exactly the thoughts that accompany that expression: that’s not the issue here. Cassandra just sighs, her chin falling into her open palm.

“Listen, I know it sounds crazy but I just… I just want something good to come out of those months I wasted with Tristan. Like, turning this trip that used to be for someone else into something for me. And, I just think it’d be nice to have a friend along for the ride.”

Cassandra lets Leon digest her words – both the proposal and her reasoning behind the invite. She simply looks on: watching as his gaze turns from her to stare into space, seeing his shoulders lift in a sigh, before his eyes turn back to her, a small grin playing at his lips.

“Sure, why not?”

“Wait. Really?”

“Cass, I’m accepting. Why are you questioning it?” Leon laughs, taking another bite of ice cream.

“Because it’s an insane idea and there’s no real reason for you to say yes to it?”

“And yet, here I am, saying yes,” he retorts. “You’re my best friend and I want to make you happy.”

The genuine tone that accompanies his words makes Cassie’s heart soften, a smile appearing on her face. A sigh whooshes through her, her entire posture relaxing into the kitchen chair.

“You really are great, you know that?” she says, grinning towards her best friend.

“I know,” Leon replies, his own body leaning back against the marble countertop. “Besides, I’d be stupid to pass up a free tropical vacation.”

His teasing words makes Cassie’s face twist into a playfully annoyed look, part of her tempted to throw a spoonful of ice cream at him to knock him down a peg. But that would be a shame. Not just because of the wasted ice cream but because that – that not so subtle cocky Leon – was her best friend coming back to being himself.

She wasn’t about to let him fade again.

~*~*~*~

If there was one thing that was true about any vacation it was this: the vacation itself was relaxing but the getting there was always stressful. Cassandra was not a fan of airports or planes or flying or anything of the sort. That was why she never moved from Edmonton, why her summers were spent at home or at her parent’s lake house – only a three-hour drive.

But throughout the trip from her home to her best friend’s house to the Edmonton airport to the Orlando airport to the Nassau airport to the hotel, she became even more thankful that she had Leon by her side. As a passenger of many flights, he kept her grounded even when they were thousands of feet in the air. He kept track of their bags – Cassie’s paranoia forcing him to check the airline tracker to make sure they were, in fact, on the plane with them – and guided her through the unfamiliar airport to their connecting flight. He even helped calm her down during the brief turbulence they experienced.

It wasn’t until they landed safely in the Bahamas and their taxi arrived at the hotel – with all their bags in tow – did Cassie truly relax, collapsing onto the hotel’s soft white sheets as soon as the door opened.

“Cassie.”

Leon’s voice cuts through the evening silence, a little sharper than Cassandra was used to but she immediately chalks his tone up to fatigue and stress from their busy travel day. She doesn’t even bother to respond, only uttering a small hum that was partially muffled by the sheets.

“Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

“Like what?” she mumbles, finally turning around from her starfish position to stare at Leon, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like the fact that there is only one bed in this suite.”

It takes a minute for his words to sink in but when they finally register in Cassie’s brain, the shock of them feels like a splash of ice-cold water hitting her. Her body jolts upright, her blonde hair whipping around to see that he was indeed correct – the only bed to be found in their hotel room was the one that Cassie was currently sitting on.

“Oh, shit,” she mumbles, turning her sheepish gaze back to Leon. “Must’ve slipped my mind?”

Leon doesn’t give a verbal reply, just a sigh, punctuated by his arms crossing in front of him. An action that immediately makes Cassandra slip into the defensive.

“Well, I mean it makes sense,” she explains. “The voucher includes a plus one and it was advertised as a ‘romantic getaway’ so the assumption is that if you were buying a ticket, you were most likely sleeping together anyway.”

Her words bring a wry chuckle from Leon, one eyebrow raising in amusement. It takes a minute for Cassie to realize the connotation of her words, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment.

“I mean, sharing a bed,” Cassie says, the low lamplight doing nothing to hide the blush that floods her cheeks. Not that she ever saw Leon in that light… obviously.

“Well then, I guess for this trip we’re sleeping together,” Leon teases, although his quiet assertion – no matter how joking – making the flush on Cassie’s face deepen to an even redder scarlet. Her best friend just laughs, plopping down next to her on the mattress.

“You know you’re really cute when you blush.”

“Shut up Leon,” she mutters, jostling him with her shoulder, trying to diffuse the weird but most likely imagined tension between them.

“No, I mean it,” he continues to joke. “Maybe I’ll hide your sunscreen so your cheeks can stay pink.”

“If you hide my sunscreen, I will murder you.”

“On our romantic getaway? Not very loving of you.”

“Leon, I swear if you don’t stop talking, I will accidentally kick you on purpose the entire night,” Cassandra chirps, the harshness of her words diffused by the giggle that seeps through.

“Then I will loudly snore throughout the night so neither of us get any sleep,” he quips right back at her. His light-hearted teasing lessens the surprise of sharing a bed with her best friend, something that Cassie appreciates as she laughs, lifting herself off the mattress.

“So, we’re just planning on ruining this vacation for each other?” she jokes, rummaging through her suitcase for her pajamas and toiletries.

“Looks like it.”

“Then why did I even invite you?”

Leon’s only reply is a shrug as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his legs up onto the bed, his body leaning back against the headboard, his arms resting behind his head. Cassandra gives one last laugh before disappearing into the bathroom to go through her nighttime routine, silently grateful for how comfortable he is with the whole situation, glad he didn’t make a fuss over their newfound sleeping arrangements.

By the time she gets back, Leon is already in his loungewear, relaxing beneath the sheets with his phone in his hand. Cassie tries to remain as casual as he seems to be as she climbs into the other side of the bed, getting comfortable before reaching over and turning off the bedside lamp. Leon soon follows her actions, placing his phone down and clicking the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

“Night Cassie.”

“Goodnight,” she replies, nestling herself deeper into the covers. She is about to close her eyes and drift off when a thought dawns on her. Cassie turns towards Leon, her voice calling out.

“Hey, Leon.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually snore, do you?”

The first sound that hits her eardrums is Leon’s soft chuckle, her heart softening at the noise before his mischievous reply comes.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

~*~*~*~

The tropical sunlight filters through the windows, hitting Cassandra’s eyes and forcing them to open. However, they quickly shut again because of the blinding light, her body nestling into the sheets to try and block out the sun. Only when she could tell from behind her eyelids that she was in a shaded spot did her eyes flutter open. And she came face to face with a sleeping Leon.

The heart that she thought was still in the process of healing did a strange little skip in her chest at the sight of her best friend – how his brown hair looked even brighter in the morning light, how the crease that seemed to have a permanent place between his eyebrows had disappeared, and how peaceful he looked.

It was refreshing to see him so at ease, something she only saw in fleeting moments – moments that got even rarer when hockey season started up. Maybe it was a good thing that she invited him. Perhaps this trip could be as restorative for him as it was for her.

The sharp blare of a phone alarm rings out, breaking through the silence and causing Leon to stir, a soft moan leaving him. Cassie’s eyes snap shut immediately, although her brain chides her at the ridiculousness of her actions. It was Leon – he may have relentlessly teased her if he woke up with her eyes glued to him but he wasn’t going to make it weird. But still, Cassandra keeps her eyes closed until the alarm was quieted and Leon’s warm palm was gently pressing against her shoulder.

“Cass, wake up,” he says, his voice raspy from hours of disuse. She makes a show of groaning and turning before she lets herself ‘awake’, her body lifting in a stretch.

“What time is it?”

“9 am. So, it still feels like 7am our time.”

“Ugh, why are we up so early?”

“I have no clue, Cassie. You’re the one that set the alarm,” Leon laughs, tossing the blanket off of his body and inadvertently – or perhaps entirely on purpose – throwing it over Cassie’s head. She lets out a playful huff as she uncovers herself, her blonde hair sticking up in an even worse bedhead than before. Leon just smiles at her from his crouched position on the floor, his hands unzipping his suitcase.

“Oh!” she says, the realization dawning on her, infecting her voice with joy, and giving her a zip of energy to jump out of bed and run towards her own suitcase. “The boat tour is today!”

“The day after we arrive?”

“That was the original plan,” Cassie explains, grabbing her swimsuit and clothes. “Tristan and I thought it would be better to do the most agenda heavy event first then we could spend the next five days relaxing and doing whatever.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Leon sighs, the morning weariness still evident in his body.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” Cassie cheers, almost oblivious to Leon’s exhaustion, her own excitement moving through her like a shot of espresso as she flies into the bathroom. The click of the deadbolt covers Leon’s amused chuckle, her energy giving him a much-needed boost as well.

After shimmying into her bikini, throwing her loose white sundress over top, and clipping her hair up with her blue flower claw-clip, she walks out of the bathroom, finding Leon dressed and lounging in one of the armchairs.

“Ready to go?” she asks, throwing a few items into her round rattan purse before she slips on her sandals, fully turning to Leon. He lifts himself up, placing his phone into his back pocket.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Cassie just shoots him a bright smile, leading him out of the hotel room. The two of them depart, Cassandra’s preparation giving them enough time to walk down to the Margaritaville restaurant for their pickup instead of having to hail a cab. There isn’t a large number of sights to take in, most of Paradise Island taken up by the sprawling resort, but it is nice to relax. To take a moment and fully awaken before their planned adventures. They soon spy the restaurant with a small crowd of people standing outside, and they eventually make their way up, taking their place among the group.

“Hey, I’m going to see if the restaurant has any coffee. Do you want one?” Leon asks.

“That’d be great, thank you. Cream and sugar please,” she replies. Leon shoots her a wink, an action that Cassie responds to with a small smack on his bicep before he disappears through the doors, leaving Cassandra alone among the crowd. She makes polite small talk with the people around her, staring out towards the crystal blue of the ocean, a sigh escaping her chest.

This was going to be a great week – she was determined to make it so.

The light screech of a car’s breaks startles Cassie out of her reverie, her eyes turning towards the noise before landing on the taxi cab that just arrived. She watches as beautiful brunette steps out, looking like the epitome of an Instagram model, the sunglasses perched on her nose only highlighting the sharpness of her jaw and lift of her cheekbones. Cassie just watches in awe, wondering who this person was when she spies the brunette’s companion step out from the other side.

And the sight makes her heart drop.

No. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was her trip, her idea, something he only expressed a fleeting interest in. Which is why she never in a million years expected him to show up after things ended between them.

But there was Tristan, walking around the cab and taking the arm of the stunning brunette in his.

“Here you go.”

The gentle press of someone’s knuckles against her bicep startles Cassie, her body jumping and spinning, her eyes now connecting to a very confused Leon.

“What? What is it?” he asks, immediately clocking the distraught emotions so clearly painted on her face. Cassie watches as his eyes flick around, looking for the source of his best friend’s distress. It isn’t until his gaze lands on Tristan, clearly recognizing him from the few nights he tagged along with Cass to post-game celebrations, does his expression harden, a quiet curse falling from his lips.

“He’s not supposed to be here,” she says, voicing her racing thoughts, the anxiety in her words forcing Leon’s eyes to return to her. “I – I didn’t think he’d come. And who the fuck is that girl? What the hell is happening?”

The words are coming faster than Cassandra can control them, her breathing becoming staccato, any previous joy zapped from her. It is the gentle touch of fingers against her own, her eyes jumping down to see Leon’s hand wrapping around hers, that grounds her.

“Hey,” Leon says gently, “look at me.” The quiet demand immediately makes her obey, her blue eyes meeting his steely grey ones. “Breathe.” Cassandra copies the rise of his chest, her breath slowing as he keeps his gaze locked to her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How? This trip was supposed to be a way to get over my ex-boyfriend. Hard to do that when he’s less than three feet away.”

“I know. But are you going to let him ruin more of your life than he already has?”

The quiet determination in his voice makes her pause, her head tilting slightly. He was right, like he usually was. Tristan had already ruined six months of her year; she wasn’t about to let him ruin another six days.

“You’re right,” she sighs, her hand dropping from Leon’s. She shakes her body, trying to release any lingering anxiety from her muscles before picking up one of the disposable coffee cups Leon had set on a nearby bench. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he laughs, mirroring her movements. “Now calm down and drink your coffee.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” she quips back at him with a giggle. However, she can’t stop her eyes from wandering back towards where Tristan stood and silently curses when her gaze locks with his. His face is unreadable, his own eyes bouncing between her and Leon.

Perhaps it was petty, impulsive even, but Cassandra didn’t give herself enough time to talk herself out of it. Instead, she just let herself reach out to grasp Leon’s hand in hers again.

It is obvious that Tristan notices the action and she can see his nose subtly upturn at the sight. His reaction makes a small thrill run through her before her eyes tear from her ex to her current companion, looking down at her with a question in his eyes. All Cassandra does is mutter a small thank you before leaning her head against Leon’s shoulder. She doesn’t catch the small smile that tugs at her best friend’s lips, can’t hear his quickened heartbeat, but she does feel the small kiss that he presses into the crown of her head, his only reply a muffled ‘of course’.

It only takes a few minutes longer – minutes that Cassie spends trying not to focus on Tristain and his…  travel companion – before the boat turns up, a few other guests already onboard. Leon is a complete gentleman, hopping on the boat first before extending a hand to Cassandra to help her climb aboard. The two of them settle down on one of the bench seats as the boat takes off, gliding over the pristine waters towards the first stop on the itinerary; an itinerary that Cassie doesn’t realize Leon didn’t know until his elbow is nudging hers.

“So, what’s all included in this excursion? Besides the pigs, of course.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her own lapse. “First, we’re going to Atoll Island where we can snorkel for a good amount of time. Then we’ll pass through Green Cay – we aren’t getting in the water there but you can apparently see a whole bunch of marine life from the boat. And finally, Rose Island. That’s where the piggies are. Plus, there’ll be a bunch other things to do like beach games, drinks, etcetera. And then it’s just back to the resort.”

“Sounds good,” Leon replies, leaning back in the seat.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you all of this. I should’ve since it’s technically your vacation now too.”

“Cass, I’m just here to support you. You can drag me along wherever and I’ll be happy.”

“You seem very chill about all of this,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her best friend’s laissez affair attitude. “What happened to the super serious intense hockey player that I know?”

“He thankfully disappears when faced with a tropical vacation.”

“Shame. I really liked him,” Cassie muses, taking a sip out of her water bottle, watching Leon from the corner of her eye. She sees his eyebrows raise, a bemused smirk appearing on his face. “But,” she continues with a playful sigh, “I suppose I could come to like this version of Leon Draisaitl.”

“You’re one of the only people who gets to see him,” Leon says, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of a genuine confession – a seriousness that Cassandra notices. She doesn’t hesitate to reach for his hand again, intertwining her fingers in his.

The boat continues its path across the ocean, bouncing gently over the soft waves before it slows to a stop about 300 feet off the coast of Atoll Island; or at least that’s what Cassie was told. After giving a brief run-down of snorkeling safety and the wildlife they might see, their guide hands out gear to each of the guests, telling them to enjoy their time in the ocean. Cassie excitedly hops up, spinning to direct her beaming smile towards Leon who grins back at her.

“Ready?” she asks him.

“As I’ll ever be,” comes his easy reply.

Leon lifts himself off the bench seat, kicking off his flip-flops. He removes his baseball cap to easily pull his t-shirt over his head, leaving him in his board shorts. And although Leon is just her friend and she has seen him shirtless before, it’s difficult to not let her eyes rove over his newly exposed chest and the cut of his muscles. It feels warranted though: Leon was a professional athlete – of course his body was fantastic. Plus, it was easy to forget how well-built he was when his body was often hidden underneath layers of hockey gear. So, Cassie doesn’t fight it and just lets her eyes rake over Leon.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he chirps, the quip startling her out of her ogling. The blush rises to her cheeks when she sees the knowing look in Leon’s eyes, his gaze teasing before it bounces down to her long white sundress, one brow raised in a playful challenge.

Cassie doesn’t bother giving a verbal reply – granted she doesn’t think she could without embarrassing herself further. Instead, she just rolls her eyes as she removes her purse from her shoulder, setting it down on the chair. She kicks off her sandals, pushing them underneath the seat before her hands reach up to the bows resting on her shoulders.

She doesn’t mean to make the action hold any more weight than it should, intending for it to just be a playful moment with her best friend. But when her eyes meet Leon’s as her fingers unravel the ties on her dress, the fabric falling from her frame and exposing her bikini-clad body, she can’t help but notice the skip of her heart as she watches Leon’s gaze rake down her silhouette.

“Is,” Leon says, his voice faltering slightly. He clears his throat before resuming his question. “Is that new?”

“The swimsuit? Yeah, I bought it special for the trip,” Cassie replies, forcing her voice to remain casual to shrug off the tension that had once again risen between them.

“For the trip? So, for… you know who?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Cassandra sighs, her eyes rolling before they turn to survey the deck and land on Tristan. He isn’t looking in her direction, too caught up in putting his snorkeling gear on. Cassie’s eyes return to Leon, a devious smirk on her lips. “But now, it’s for me.”

“His loss,” Leon says, the words falling from his lips with a speed that somewhat startles Cassie. “You look great.”

His words bring the blush back to Cassie’s cheeks in full force, her head ducking down with a newfound bashfulness.

“Thanks,” she mutters, reaching for her goggles, taking them in her hand before returning her eyes to Leon’s. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Leon just laughs before placing his own goggle over his eyes. Cassandra follows his actions and takes his hand as they both walk towards the swim platform. One last adjustment of their gear and a grin are shared before they both jump into the aquamarine water.

It is easy for Cassandra to let all troubling thoughts disappear as she swims through the ocean, her eyes taking in the fish fliting around the coral reefs, pointing out starfish and sea urchins to Leon, the smile on her face clear even around the snorkel pressed against her mouth. Occasionally, Leon drifts away from her – to explore the ocean on his own, Cassie assumes. However, that assumption is proved partially incorrect when she turns her face towards him to point out the sea turtle swimming by and sees him aiming his phone in her direction, snapping a picture. The smile appears on her face again as she playfully throwing up a pair of peace signs and posing for him.

They spend almost all their allotted time in the sea, taking in the sights before they are called back onto the boat. Leon once again helps pull her aboard and even wraps the complimentary towel around her frame before grabbing one of his own. The two of them return to their seats, handing back the snorkeling gear to their guide.

“Thank you for taking pictures,” Cassandra says as she rings out her hair. “Out of everything I planned, I somehow forgot to include a waterproof phone case.”

“I figured you’d want some proof of this whole trip – something to look back on.”

“You’re right.”

“Like always,” Leon tacks on to her statement, making her laugh at his cocky confidence.

“Well, I don’t know if I would say that,” she teases, knocking her shoulder against his. “Will you send those pics to me?”

“I will. But maybe later. Let’s just enjoy the rest of today.”

Cassie nods in agreement, looking back over the horizon. Eventually, the guide announces their arrival in Green Cay, telling the guests to be on the lookout for some wildlife including sharks and sea turtles. Cassie and Leon stare into the blue waters, each of them pointing out the creatures that they did see swim by, arms pressed against each other on the railing. The boat cruises through the bay and in the distance, Cassandra can see an island growing larger as they approach. Her excitement raises higher, knowing that they were almost to Rose Island and to the swimming pigs – the part of the entire trip that she was most excited for.

The boat finally docks on the shore, the guests filing off and walking across the white sand beach. Cassie’s hands wrap around Leon’s bicep, her whole body bouncing when she sees the animals walking in the tide. Leon just smiles down at her, her own joy infectious. Their tour guide once again gives a quick explanation before handing each of them food for the pigs and leaving them to enjoy their time.

“Here, Cass,” Leon says, handing her is portion of food.

“You don’t want to come?” she asks, her blue eyes wide as she looks up to him.

“I’ll hang around but… I’m just not sure about the whole thing.”

Cassie can see the hesitation on his face, understanding the uncertainty. She doesn’t push him, instead letting him stand on the shoreline as she wades out into the water.

She stops when the water reaches her mid-thighs, turning to face the beach, her eyes connecting with Leon still standing on the sand. Cassie sends him a quick wave, one which he returns before her eyes drop down to see the pink, brown, and black mottled bodies of the pigs swimming out towards her. The smile on her face grows impossibly wider as she holds out her hand, letting the snout of the first pig that arrives nuzzle against the skin, munching on the food she offered. The animals swim around her, their snorts and squeals filling the air, making her laugh.

The food quickly vanishes from her hand, only a small amount remaining as her eyes lift to lock with Leon’s frame again. He is chatting with another guest but he must feel the weight of her stare because his gaze returns to hers. She smiles at him before her hand extends, beckoning him towards her. Cassie can see him hesitate again but there must be something in her smile or her ease that makes him push through any lingering fear as he wades out to meet her.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, even once he reaches her. She just grabs his hand, gently pouring the remaining pig feed into his palm. She keeps his wrist in her grip, guiding his hand down towards the water. With her silent instruction, he holds his hand out towards the closest pig, letting the animal take the food from him. A small laugh falls from Leon as the pig eats from his hand, Cassie reaching out to pet the animal, the damp coarse hair gliding under her palm. Leon matches her movements, petting the pig himself as his face turns towards her, a smile on his lips.

“There’s a place where you can hold a piglet as well, if you want to,” she explains to him, the joyful lilt of her voice clear.

“Well then,” Leon replies, his tone mirroring hers. “What are we waiting for?”

They both eagerly wade back to the beach, occasionally stopping to pet some of the other pigs that swam by, before exiting the water and making their way towards the piglets. Cassandra’s heart immediately softens when she sees the tiny creature, before her heart soars as the animals is placed in her arms. She coos, the immediate baby-talk falling from her mouth as she holds the piglet, her fingers brushing over its softer skin. Cassie lifts her head up towards Leon only to see him lower his phone, surely taking another photo. There is no faking the smile on her face as Leon snaps the pic, his own grin obvious from behind the phone screen.

There is now no hesitance from Leon when Cassandra gently offers the piglet to him, his hands eagerly reaching out to take the animal from her. If Cassie thought her heart was soaring when the piglet was in her arms, it was doing somersaults when she saw the baby in Leon’s hands, looking even tinier against his body. It takes a few minutes for Cassie to snap out of her reverie before walking to him with a smile on her face. She reaches out towards Leon’s board shorts, her fingers touching the material causing Leon to startle.

“Your phone. For pictures. You deserve some too, you know?” she explains, a soft laugh on her lips as she glances towards the piglet softly snorting in his arms. “Besides, you have your hands full.”

Leon chuckles in resignation, knowing that there is no argument against her logic. Instead, he just turns his hip closer to her, allowing Cassie to slip her hand into his pocket to fish out his phone. She clicks the small camera icon before stepping back and snapping a few pictures.

They return the piglet to its home before they walk back towards the beach bar where most of the other guests linger. After sanitizing their hands and grabbing a few drinks, they find a vacant pair of lounge chairs and sit down. Leon takes out his phone and opens his camera roll, Cassie leaning over as Leon swipes through the pictures, every one almost perfectly framed despite being almost entirely candid.

“You know, you would be a really good Instagram boyfriend one day,” she teases as he continues to scroll through the album.

“How’d you guess my retirement plan?” he laughs, a grin shot in her direction. She giggles with him before taking a sip of her cocktail, resting back against the lounge chair, her eyes looking out over the ocean.

“Hey, Leon? You coming?”

Cassie turns to the sound of the voice addressing her best friend to see the guest that Leon was talking to earlier standing nearby, a volleyball under his arm.

“Be right there,” Leon replies, the man walking away before Leon turns to Cassandra. “He invited me to be a part of their team in beach volleyball,” he explains with a shrug.

“Should’ve known that the athlete couldn’t be taken out of you entirely,” she chirps before playfully shooing him away with a wave of her hand. He shoots her a small departing smile as he gets up and jogs over towards the court. Cassie returns to her relaxed position, letting the sun warm her skin as she breathes in the salt air.

“Is this seat taken?” a feminine voice asks.

Cassandra opens her eyes and it takes everything in her power not to startle when she sees the brunette – the one that was accompanying Tristan – standing in front of her. Thankfully, her shock isn’t noticed by the girl, allowing Cassie to compose herself before gesturing to the vacant chair next to her.

“It’s all yours. Leon is currently playing volleyball so he won’t be using it anytime soon,” she explains, her light-hearted tease causing the brunette to laugh as well as she sits down.

“Boys. Always finding a way to show-off, right?” the woman teases. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Cassandra.”

Cassie’s eyes stay glued onto Chloe’s face, waiting for a reaction to the name, waiting for an acknowledgement of who she is and who she used to be to Tristan. But there is none, just a compliment on her ‘cool’ name as Chloe lounges back on the chair. Cassie lets herself relax, even though Chloe’s reaction – or lack thereof – leaves her mind reeling. It is a moment of silence before Cassie speaks again.

“I think I saw you arrive outside of the restaurant before we left. Quite an entrance.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe laughs, turning her body towards Cassandra. “I will let you know that it was 100% not part of the plan. Nor what I usually like to do. But my boyfriend, Tristan, completely spaced on what was on today’s agenda so when we did figure it out, we had to speed to the restaurant or we would’ve missed this whole excursion.”

“Jeez,” Cassie says. “Good thing you made it.”

“Good thing I asked Tristan,” Chloe teases. “I swear. This man surprised me with these tickets to celebrate our six-month anniversary but it honestly seems like he has no idea what he himself planned out.”

If they were anywhere else and if Chloe had been one of Cassandra’s close friends, she knows they would share a laugh over the idiocy of her ex-boyfriend, lamenting over his disorganization and ineptitude. But now, the only words that caught Cassie’s attention were ‘six-month anniversary.’

Tristan and her broke up a month ago. The latest that he could’ve ‘surprised’ Chloe with the tickets was at least a week before today. But no matter what the minute details were, the math all pointed towards one thing: Tristan had been cheating on her. For months.

“Well, men are hopeless,” Cassie replies, trying not to let the anger bubbling within her seep into her words.

“Tell me about it,” Chloe laughs. “But you look like you managed to snag a pretty good one. I saw him standing on the beach, taking pictures of you with the pigs. How long have the two of you been dating?”

“Me and Leon?” Cassie asks, both Chloe’s praise and assumption about their relationship catching her off-guard. Chloe simply nods, her brown eyes bright and eager. Her excitement makes that petty part of Cassie trill again and even though she knows that she shouldn’t, she decides not to correct Chloe. “We’ve known each other for years now. One of my friends was – well, still is – dating one of his friends. That’s how we met. And the rest, like they say, is history.”

“Oh, that’s so cute. I just met Tristan through a dating app. Very romantic, I know.”

“Hey, whatever works right?” Cassie replies, every additional information Chloe innocently shares acting like a dagger piercing her deeper.

It was a blessing in disguise when Cassandra sees Leon jogging up towards her, thankful for the interruption before her façade cracked. Chloe follows her eyeline, noticing Leon as well and she excuses herself, walking back towards the beach bar. Leon glances in the direction of Chloe’s departure before turning back to Cassie with a questioning look on his face.

“Tristan’s?”

“Her name is Chloe,” Cassie chides. “She actually seems pretty nice. But Tristan is a bigger piece of shit than I ever could’ve imagined,” she continues on, her words growing angrier with every passing syllable. She notices Leon’s eyes widening at her fury and sits down in the chair next to her, his body leaning towards her, a silent invitation for her to continue.

“He met her on a dating app… while he was still with me. This trip was a surprise for Chloe to celebrate their six-month anniversary.”

The silence falls between them, Leon doing the math as easily as she did only moments ago and Cassie sees that scowl appear on his face. She doesn’t say anything else, not even sure if there was anything left to say, instead letting a sigh woosh out of her as she collapses back onto the lounge chair, turning her attention back to the waves.

“Do you want me to kick his ass for you?”

Cassandra’s head whips towards him, her look of resignation transforming to one of shock at her best friend’s words. Leon’s face remains impassive, his words still hanging between them.

“What?”

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Leon asks, pausing to let a small grin appear on his face before he continues. “In beach volleyball, I mean. I think his team is playing against mine next.”

There is no stopping the cackle of laughter that falls from Cassandra at Leon’s statement, her head shaking at her friend’s joke. Leon’s own grin widens, happy to hear her laugh again. Cassie looks back at him, her blue eyes soft.

“Would you?”

“Anything for you,” he replies, lifting himself off his chair before holding out his hand. “Want to come cheer me on?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cassandra says, grabbing Leon’s hand and letting him pull her towards the court.

It’s hard not to notice Tristan’s eyes locked on her and Leon as they arrive, but Cassie finds that she doesn’t care. He didn’t have the right to be angry; this was her trip and now, she was absolutely not about to let her cheating scumbag of an ex ruin it. She wishes Leon a quick good luck before she finds a vacant chair. She ends up sitting next to a group of other guests and attempts to engage in small talk. However, it’s almost impossible to keep her focus when Leon is playing.

Once again, her brain chides her at being so awe-struck by her best friend. Cassandra knew he was attractive – hell, she couldn’t recall a night she went out with the team where he hadn’t been hit on. But now, for some reason, the revelation was hitting Cassie like a ton of bricks. Leon Draisaitl was hot: the way the golden sun bounced off his skin, the sharp lines of his muscles, how his body moved with the precise athleticism that he had perfected through years of training, the sound of his laughter floating in the ocean breeze.

The sound of cheering and applause snaps Cassie back to the present moment, her eyes refocusing on Leon and the three guys he was playing with coming together in a group celebration. And Cassie realizes that Leon did exactly what he promised he would: he beat the crap out of her ex at beach volleyball.

She cheers with the rest of the guests, watching as Leon’s team moves to shake hands with the others. It is good-hearted until Leon meets Tristan in the center. Cassie watches as Tristan looks towards her and then back to Leon before rebuffing Leon’s outstretched hand, sportsmanship apparently meaning little to him. Leon just shrugs, looking towards her with an incredulous look on his face, an expression that screams ‘can you believe that?’ before he jogs back over to Cassie.

Her next actions are entirely impulsive as she practically leaps onto him, engulfing him in a potentially overzealous hug. But if Leon was surprised, he doesn’t show it, wrapping his arms around her and even spinning her a few times, their laughter combining before setting her back down onto the white sand.

“You won!” she cheers.

“I told you I would.”

The rest of the afternoon is filled with more downed cocktails, more games played, and more conversations had before their guide is calling them back to the boat. Cassie and Leon find their seats, sitting down as they begin their journey back to their resort. The sun is low in the sky, painting the clouds in a beautiful array of oranges and pinks. Cassie leans against Leon, staring out towards the horizon, a contented sigh running through her. It’s instinctive how Leon wraps his arms around her, pulling her tighter against his chest, holding her close.

“Thank you,” Cassie says, her voice gentle. She looks back towards him, a blissful smile on her face. “For everything. Coming with me, being so chill about everything, making me laugh. Everything.”

“Of course,” he replies, glancing down at her with a matching smile on his lips. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The statement should’ve been an innocuous one. After all, it had been shared between them many times before this, a way of affirming their friendship and loyalty to each other. But Cassie is surprised to notice how much it stings, the pain momentarily passing through her before she shakes it off.

It was ridiculous reaction. Besides, that’s what she and Leon were: friends.

Nothing more.

~*~*~*~

If anyone were to ask Cassandra to describe her vacation in one word, the adjective she would’ve chosen might have surprised some people. They most likely would’ve expected a word like exciting or fantastic or even something as simple as fun. But instead of any of those, she would’ve said it was… confusing.

In some ways, her word choice might’ve seemed reasonable. A tropical getaway to physically and emotionally get away from your ex-boyfriend only to have that same ex show up and learn that he mistreated you even more than you had previously imagined? That would send anyone’s emotions into a tizzy. But Tristan wasn’t the person that had been taking up residence in Cassie’s mind, turning everything that she thought she knew upside down.

No, that distinction belonged to Leon.

Leon, her best friend. Leon, who willingly agreed to join her on this trip. Leon, who tagged along with her no matter what she wanted to do: explore the island, go on shopping trips, lounge on the beach, anything. Leon, who made her laughter come with an ease that Cassie thought would take months to get back. Leon.

The man who was currently leaning against the wooden beachfront bar a few feet away from her, casually chatting to the bartender, the half-drunk bottle of Corona still in his hand. He looked so at ease, with his partially unbuttoned white shirt, khaki shorts, and slides – the very epitome of someone who spent their life just chilling by the sand. How different he was here with her than he was back in Canada. How relaxed he seemed. Part of her wished this trip would never end, that they could stay here next to the sea and in the salt air.

But that couldn’t happen. Tomorrow was their last day and then they would be back on plane and back to their normal lives. It might be for the best. Maybe the feelings that had taken root in Cassie would die once they landed back in Canada, away from the fantasy of summer.

Although that very thought causes a pang of sadness to thrum through her.

She just sighs, directing her attention back to her phone, scrolling through the endless pictures Leon had taken for her, trying to pick her favorites and make them into a collage that accurately captured the perfect – albeit, fleeting – joy of this vacation.

She hears the chair across from her shift through the sand, a body settling down into the seat and she expects another quip about her ridiculous choice of cocktails to fall from Leon’s lips. But instead of her best friend’s voice, she hears a different voice; one that she had known for six months and one that she had been trying to erase from her mind.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Cassandra’s head jolts up, her eyes landing on Tristan’s frame now sitting across from her.  

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he continues, his arms crossing over his chest as he stares her down. Cassie’s shocked expression quickly morphs to one of anger, a scoff falling from her lips.

“Didn’t think I would come to the vacation that I planned just because you wouldn’t be with me? So sorry to disappoint,” she quips, her eyes rolling at her ex’s audacity. Her words don’t make him depart, something she was hoping he would do when he realized she wasn’t heartbroken over him. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes staying glued to her. “What do you want Tristan?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you bothering me?” she asks, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be lying to another girl you met on a dating app?”

“Jealous?” Tristan quips, that infuriating fuckboy smirk appearing on his lips.

“Of you being someone else’s problem? Not in the slightest. I do feel sorry for Chloe though; she seems really sweet. Shame that she has no idea she’s dating a cheating asshole.”

“Oh, please, like you’re one to talk,” Tristan spits, his tone morphing from cocky to contempt. “You’re no better than I am.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. Chloe told me everything. You and Leon.”

It takes a minute for his words – so full of hate and vitriol – to fully register with Cassie. He actually believed that she had been cheating on him?

“You’re an idiot,” Cassie scoffs. The statement, however true, was not the strongest rebuttal against Tristan’s assumption. But that was because she quickly realized any truthful defense she would make would seem like an outright lie. She all but told Chloe that her and Leon had been together for years. However, she didn’t expect that white lie to come back to bite her this dramatically.

“Sure,” Tristan jeers. “You think I never noticed how obsessed the two of you were with each other? And you’ve only been more all over each other the past few days. Probably because you don’t need to lie to me anymore. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. I always thought you were fucking him behind my back. Turns out I was right.”

“No, you’re just a bigger dumbass than I thought you were.”

“Oh, will stop being such a stuck-up bitch Cassandra,” Tristan snaps, his hand coming down to smack against the wooden table, his voice raising. “You act like you’re so much better than everyone but in reality, you’re just a two-faced slut.”

“You are fucking insane, Tristan,” Cassie says, the tension between them rendering her somewhat speechless, capable of only repeating insults. Unfortunately, her lack of denial just seems to make Tristan feel justified enough to continue.

“Not just a slut, a puck bunny even. Can’t imagine what Leon will do the minute he realizes that you’re just using him for his fame and money. He’d probably drop you faster than I did and move on to the next blonde he finds. Trust me Cassie, there are plenty of girls out there looking to take your place. You’re nothing special, just another bitch looking for her five-seconds of fame.”

The moments that follow seem to happen in slow motion.

A hand appears on Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan turns to look at whoever it was touching him. Then, a closed fist making contact with the side of Tristan’s jaw. The force of the hit knocks Tristan flat out of the seat, his body crashing into the sand below. It is only then that Cassandra registers that the fist belonged to Leon, who was now standing over Tristan, looking every level of pissed off.

“What the fuck dude!!?” Tristan yells, jumping to his feet, his hand rubbing against his jaw.

“Don’t you dare talk about Cassie like that,” Leon says, the tone of his voice colder than Edmonton winters.

“Or what?” Tristan spits, stepping forward into Leon’s space, his own hands curling into fists.

The absolute disbelief at the entire situation forces Cassandra to stay frozen in her seat, unable to move or even fully comprehend what this evening had devolved into. In another move that only further highlighted her ex’s stupidity, Tristan’s own fist comes up to connect with Leon’s face. That action seemed to be the catalyst that caused both of their simmering angers to boil over. Fists start flying, hands twisting into shirts, wild haymakers being thrown, some connecting with skin, some only hitting air. Cassie’s eyes try to track the damage, the only odd thought coming to her brain being a small relief that they were outside and far away from the main resort.

Somehow – or not surprisingly, considering his career – Leon manages to throw Tristan down, the impact of her ex’s body sending up a spray of sand. Tristan scrambles up from the ground, taking a few steps back.

“You’re fucking insane! Both of you!!” he yells, before retreating back to the resort.

It is only after Tristan’s angry cursing fades does Cassie look around, the curious eyes of some of the other guest directed towards them. Leon is still standing on the beach, his shoulders tight and his breathing heavy. Cassandra finally peels herself from her seat, walking over to her best friend and placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“Leon,” she whispers. Her gentle voice pulls Leon’s gaze towards her and she feels a sharp pang when she sees the small cut on his brow. Her eyes travel down to the torn skin over his knuckles, his hands still clenched. “Let’s – let’s go back to the hotel room. Get you cleaned up.”

“What about your drink?” Leon asks breathlessly.

Cassie’s eyebrows furrow before her head turns to see another Corona bottle and her brightly colored cocktail with one too many umbrellas sitting at a different table nearby. The remembrance of why Leon wasn’t at the table earlier hits her as she realizes he must have placed the drinks down before… all this happened.

“Leon,” she says, her voice coming out in a slight breathless laugh. “The last thing I’m worried about is our drinks.”

It must’ve been something in her tone, in her laughter that makes Leon visibly relax. He allows Cassie to take his hand – avoiding contact with his wounds – and guide him through the resort. By pure luck or pure coincidence, they are not stopped as they walk into the building, through the lobby, into the elevator, and down the hallway. They make it all the way back to the hotel room, Cassie pushing Leon into the bathroom and making him sit on the closed toilet lid.

They both seem to be in a fugue state, Leon just staring into space while Cassandra absentmindedly rummages through the cabinets under the sink, grabbing her miniature first aid kit. She opens it and grabs a small antiseptic wipe. It isn’t until she steps between Leon’s thighs do his grey eyes finally connect to her.

There aren’t any words spoken between them; Cassie just takes his hand and gently wipes away the sand and blood from his knuckles, gently shushing him when he winces.

“You know,” Cassie muses, finally breaking the silence that was lingering between them, “when I agreed to have you beat up my ex, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

A slight chuckle falls from Leon, followed shortly by another wince as she brushes the wipe over his wounds. Without moving from the space between his legs, Cassie tosses the cloth into the nearby trashcan before grabbing some bandages from the kit and gently wrapping them around his knuckles.

“I didn’t like how he was talking about you,” Leon explains, his eyes turning away from her, staring into space again as if he was replaying Tristan’s insults in his mind.

“He’s an asshole. You tried to warn me. Guess you were even more right than I ever thought.”

“I’m not going to tell you I told you so,” Leon teases, redirecting his gaze towards her.

“You better not, considering I’m the one patching you up,” Cassie playfully threatens.

After bandaging both hands, she lowers them onto his thighs before grabbing another antiseptic wipe, turning her focus onto the cut above his eyebrow. Her hand finds its place underneath his chin – a gentle hold to keep him from flinching away. It works well enough, although Leon still grimaces in response to her ministrations.

“I can now see why you don’t normally fight on the ice,” she quips, wiping the dried blood from his skin.

“Usually someone else does it so I never really have to.”

“So, if Darnell Nurse were here, he’d be the one beating up Tristan, not you?”

“No,” Leon says, his voice quieting. “It’d still be me.”

“Oh really,” Cassie teases. “And why is that?”

Another hiss falls from his lips, his hands jumping up to land on the back of her own thighs. The touch is soft and it sends a jolt of warmth through Cassandra. Her eyes dart down a few centimeters from the cut on his eyebrow to Leon’s own grey eyes, staring up at her. And her breath catches in her throat at the sight.

Because Leon is looking at her with the utmost tenderness, a look that she has only ever seen in movies or in her wildest dreams. But even her dreams never prepared her for the possibility of her best friend looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

“I’d always fight for you Cassie.”

The statement falls from Leon’s lips is filled with a quiet conviction; the sentence weighted with more confession than those six words conveyed by themselves. Maybe it was fear or uncertainty or simple disbelief that makes the one question escape from Cassandra.

“Why?”

The immediate response from Leon is just a smile – that damnable smile that always made Cassie smile back. A smile that she always thought was affectionate but only ever platonic. But now, it was as if a curtain had been lifted and she could see him clearly. It had been disappearing slowly, a little more every day during this trip, bringing Leon into a new light, a glow as warm and the tropical sunshine. But now, the realization of how much he meant to her and how much she meant to him was as crystal clear as the coastal oceans.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, his voice still soft.

There is nothing that Cassandra can say, no words in any language that she could string together to fully explain the weight of this revelation. There is only this feeling of truth, of clarity. It was Leon – it had always been Leon.

She can feel his hands on her bare skin, still feel the soft cut of his jawline in her palm, still see the look of pure… love on his face. And in that moment, there is nothing she wants to do more than kiss him. It feels as if she spent another second without Leon Draisaitl’s lips on hers, she might die.

So, she doesn’t wait any longer; she simply leans in and presses her lips against his. She can feel Leon’s fingers jolt against her skin, in shock or surprise, but it is only momentary before they tighten around her thighs, pulling her closer to him as he kisses her back. The energy that surges between them isn’t fireworks or electricity or any of the other cliches that Cassie read about in romance books. It feels simple, easy, inevitable. As easy as breathing, as simple as coming home, as inevitable as the sunrise.

Eventually, their lips fall from each other. They do not separate entirely, foreheads still touching as their eyes meet again, breathing slightly heavy as they take in everything that had changed in just a few short minutes.

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” Leon whispers.

“You should’ve done it sooner,” Cassie laughs. “Then this entire trip could’ve been avoided.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” he replies. “This was one of the best vacations I’ve had in a long time.”

“Swimming with pigs, beating up my ex, kissing your best friend. It is pretty memorable.”

Leon chuckles, his shoulders moving underneath Cassie’s hands before he lifts his head up to kiss her again. Her arms easily wrap around his shoulders as she leans into him further, his hands drifting up her thighs, sneaking under the hem of her sundress, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Do you want to make it more memorable?” he asks, his voice dipping lower, intoxicating her. Cassie only replies with a small hum; a quiet encouragement for him to go on.

“Do you remember what you said when we first got here?” Leon continues, his lips falling from hers to trail across her jawline. “Something about how the people that bought these tickets were probably sleeping together?”

A laugh rumbles from Cassie’s chest, slightly breathless from the gentle touch of Leon’s lips against her neck.

“I think I recall saying something like that.”

“Well then, what do you say we make use of that single bed?” Leon proposes, his head moving away from her body to look back in her blue eyes, the mischievous sparkle behind his own irises oh so familiar.

“Considering that we might be kicked out tomorrow since you fist-fought another guest? Probably should make the most of our last night sharing a bed.”

“Trust me,” Leon says as he stands up, keeping Cassie’s body pressed to his as he guides her out of the bathroom and into the main hotel room. “This definitely won’t be the last time I have you in bed with me.”

“Is that a promise, Leon Draisaitl?”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

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[abbylee0710]

Cosmic Hearts: Echoes of Another World

Synopsis: When five friends find themselves in the universe of their beloved game, they do not expect how much their presence will impact the story. With internal conflicts, a little bit of drama, and the truth of why they were transported to this world in the first place, the five will learn how to navigate their roles and the significance of their bond to each of the love interests in this universe.

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing so feedbacks are very appreciated, MC will not appear in this story but she did exist (will be explained in future chapters) the five girls are my very own original characters, the premise is that of an isekai, I will try my best to portray the boys' characters to the best of my abilities, this might be a very long series, please do not repost on other sites

Prologue: The Starting Point

It started as a normal day, meeting with the group, double-checking if they had missed anything, and then getting in the car for their destination. Abby couldn’t have thought of anything going wrong. She and her four other friends were en route to a private resort. A three-day short vacation, meant as a getaway and a celebration for completing their final exams. The resort was in a hidden paradise, a four-hour journey from the city, passing through mountains to reach the gorgeous beach. She was honestly looking forward to it, expecting a smooth and peaceful ride. Not until her friends decided it was too peaceful anyway.

‘The sunrise looks so pretty’ she thought as she looked out the window, admiring the colors that were being painted in the sky like a canvas. Drowning the irritating voices that are getting louder and louder with each passing second. Elly, who was today’s designated driver, was exchanging heated words with Jazz, the girl in the shotgun. Destiny, ever the pacifist, is trying to mediate between the two while Eve contributes to the argument through the various expressions she makes on her face.

Now, normally, Abby would’ve taken this opportunity to distract them. Takes their attention away from each other through the long ramblings of her love for Rafayel and his tragic lore with MC in the game that they all play, but she remains silent. 

Their group is tight-knit, friendship going way back since their junior high school years. Abby, Jazz, and Destiny even have known each other since childhood. Eve, a younger distant relative of Jazz, was later introduced to the trio with Elly joining them when they met her in junior high. 

With a friendship lasting that long, it is common for fights to happen. Verbal disputes and even insults are being thrown and said sometimes. They do share similarities but that does not mean that they don’t have different opinions on certain matters (No Eve, matcha does not taste like grass!). But they always come out with a stronger bond, understanding that their differences and similarities are what makes them close and connect.

This fight, however, is different, it feels different. Or maybe it was just Abby and her sensitive feelings. She may or may not have been holding a silent grudge against the four before this trip. In typical Abby fashion, she kept her feelings in and just brushed them aside, instead trying to look forward to the vacation they planned.

Elly and Jazz are still going at each other and Eve, who has had enough of their yelling finally snaps. “Gosh, can you two put it to rest already? Your voices are grating my ears!” She whines and Abby hears Destiny sighing and softly muttering her agreement. 

“I’m trying to end it but Elly won’t just shut up!” Jazz grumbles. Elly gives her a nasty glare for that “Oh, of course, I’m so sorry you can’t understand the point, as always” She quips back making Jazz roll her eyes and they continue their fight.

Not having any of it, Eve turns to Abby, pouting to voice her complaints “Can you believe the two of them? Abby, say something!”  Abby just sighs “I don’t know, do I have to?” 

That earns a raised brow from Eve “Well, aren’t you usually the one who butts in to bring attention back to yourself?” This was said not in a malicious way, Abby is aware of that. That is just how Eve acts and she gets along well with the other because they are similar in that aspect – always saying biting words to tease but never to intentionally hurt. Their friends are used to them being like that. However, with the tension brewing between the five, Abby snapped.

“What? So are you implying I’m an attention-seeking bitch now? Is that how you all see me? Why you were all avoiding me these past few days? If you are all so tired of my attention-seeking ass then you should’ve just left and never invited me with you all for this trip in the first place!” 

Silence…

Realizing her outburst, Abby immediately shuts her mouth. ‘I overreacted’ She can feel the guilt bubbling inside of her chest. She let her emotions win again, always spouting words without thinking first, again. Shocked eyes of all four, even Elly and Jazz who stopped arguing after hearing her shout, turn to her. Avoiding eye contact, an apology at the tip of her tongue but she can’t seem to spit it out. Her pride won’t allow her.

‘Was she wrong though? Weren’t they leaving her out, always discussing things when they thought she wasn’t there?’ She can hear her mind tell her. Pretending to look at her phone, she remembers the comments that she always hear from others. 

“You can be a bit too much sometimes”

“Do you feel the need to insert yourself in the conversation? We’re not asking for your opinion here”

“You talk too much, I’m tired of listening”

Was that the case with this too? Were they getting tired of her too? Did they realize that they can never put up with her overbearing attitude too? 

Abby was pulled back from her thoughts when she felt her phone vibrate. “Samara calling” her screen displays. It was from her cousin. She did not feel like answering so she ignored the call. It was not the right time to answer with the kind of atmosphere she created anyway. 

The faintest touch of a hand was felt, followed by a voice “What? Abby no, that’s not it” It was Destiny, her tone that was like calming a child but laced with bewilderment. Abby can feel the familiar sting in her eyes, not even sure why she just had to say those things when she should’ve just shut up. Slowing down her breathing, she compels herself not to let the beginning of tears show.

The car is still driving, and Abby finally meets the gazes of her friends. She makes eye contact with Elly through the rearview mirror, smiling softly and about to open her mouth to maybe say a joke to dispel the awkwardness until the view ahead catches Abby’s attention. There was a sharp turn that Elly and Jazz still had not noticed, focused on what was going on at the back.  They were driving straight to the cliffside. Following her line of sight, Destiny sees what situation they are in and yells “Elly! Cliff!” 

As if doused suddenly with cold water, Elly’s eyes widened, snapping her head back to look ahead. Jazz did the same and sucked in a sharp exhale, Abby can feel Eve’s hands grip hers as they witness Elly’s futile attempt to avoid their impending doom.

The car crashes into the barricades, the speed having enough force to break it as the vehicle continues until it falls. The crash was heard even kilometers away, startling resting birds and causing them to fly away. Inside the wreck, Abby who was unable to move caught the final glimpse of her friends, bloodied, and her vibrating phone. The cracked screen displays Samara’s contact again. Hurt and feeling so miserable, Abby’s vision blurred, “Is this it?” she closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to succumb to the darkness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

It all played out like scenes in a movie, quick and brief.

Abby can be seen chilling and lying down on her bed. Scrolling through the short YouTube videos on her phone, occasionally giggling and pausing to comment or like. After moving on from a short compilation of the ‘Cats getting angry cutely’ video, she was stopped by an ad and was greeted by a 3D handsome man, black-haired with glasses in a first-person point of view.

“Ah, it’s this game again.”

Taking a screenshot, she opened her and her friends’ group chat and sent the picture.

@Abigail Elsher

[Sent image]  This game has been popping up all over my social media. Should I just try it?

@Jasmine Blair

Oh, me too… Love and Deepspace right?

@Evelyn Blair

The quality looks great

@Destiny Levine

I am tempted to download it right now I heard great reviews about it

@Abigail Elsher 

Ok, I’m downloading it You all should too! @Amalia Keller stop pretending you’re not here! I can see you reading our chats [angry emoji]

@Amalia Keller

[Sent like]

@Evelyn Blair

Will download it too!

@Jasmine Blair

Yeah, sounds fun

@Destiny Levine

If you all are going to play, then I’m playing too.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –  

Abby stops herself from giggling as she screenshots the interaction between her MC and the purple-haired diva in the game. “Excuse me??!! Why did this fine specimen rizz me, just to walk away without even letting me finish what I was going to say?!” she sighed dramatically but then added, “That was hot, do it again sir.”

Elly just rolled her eyes at what she just witnessed

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

@Jasmine Blair

I call dibs on the Doctor. His representative flower is also Jasmine Meant to be fr [heart pierced emoji] Looks cold but is a softie trope >>>

@Evelyn Blair

You do you Jazz, however… WHY THE HECK IS CALEB NOT A LOVE INTEREST??!!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – –

@Destiny Levine

Oh my gosh, Xavier is so… [heart eyes emoji] Why isn’t he real?

@Abigail Elsher

I have asked this question every day since meeting Rafayel

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

All eyes are on Eve, as she is none the wiser, and continues to play the game. The girls were already all aware of what was going to happen in this chapter. Knowing how attached Eve became to dear gege, the girls were all looking forward to her reaction. 

Jazz can be seen sneakingly trying to prepare the camera. Making sure what was going to happen would be caught on tape. The others; Abby, Elly, and Destiny were acting nonchalantly but were greatly observing. They were not going to miss anything.

A few seconds later and then…

“WHAT THE FUCK”

Eve’s iPad gets thrown and a chorus of laughter rang across the room.

“THEY DID NOT JUST KILL HIM” Eve’s devastation continues much to the amusement of the other girls. Caleb just exploded with grandma in chapter 4 of the main story and Eve’s reaction did not disappoint

“BOOM shakalaka I guess” Abby snorts and the others laugh harder, Eve just throws a pillow at her face.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Amelia Keller

[Sent image]

@Destiny Levine

Oh wow… Are all affinity levels for the 3 the same?

@Amelia Keller

Unfortunately, I don’t have a favorite.

@Abigail Elsher

She’s playing for the plot and lore atp

@Jasmine Blair

Well, the story is good

@Evelyn Blair

How is it good when they let Caleb explode?

@Jasmine Blair

[ROFL gif] Ah yes, that happened

@Amelia Keller

I will keep playing, maybe they will add more characters

@Destiny Levine

Maybe they will Why else is there a ‘to be announced’ notif in the LI’s display

@Evlelyn Blair

Will save for Caleb then #HeIsAlive

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Jazz was startled when Abby suddenly screamed.

“Love and DeepSpace? The fuck, it is love and depression!” 

With eyes that scream ‘???’, Jazz asks her “What happened?” to which Abby turns to her, getting a little misty-eyed “Just finished Raf’s standard myth.”

“Oh…” She answers, but then remembers something “I just unlocked Zayne’s, should I be scared?” 

With a little nod, Abby pats her shoulders softly as if to comfort her muttering ‘Good luck.’

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Jasmine Blair

WTF Why is his myth this sad??! [crying emoji]

@Evelyn Blair

I’m gonna hurt you more Jazz, look at your name

@Jasmine Blair

STOP REMINDING ME I’m gonna ugly sob every time I hear someone calling me by my full name [crying gif]

@Abigail Elsher

[Sent image] [Sent image] [Sent image]

@Jasmine Blair

ABBY WTF STOP SENDING ME PICTURES OF JASMINE FLOWERS

@Destiny Levine 

[crying laughing emoji]

@Amelia Keller

She’s crashing out, @Abigail Elsher send more

@Evelyn Blair

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Evelyn Blair

[Sent image] Look! A star! @Destiny Levine can’t relate since her star left her…

@Destiny Levine

EVE WHEN I CATCH YOU [angry gif]

@Jasmine Blair

Now Eve, that’s just foul [laughing emoji]

@Destiny Levine

[Sent image] At least mine did not explode

@Amelia Keller

Oooh burn

@Abigail Elsher

Yeah, Caleb did burn

@Evelyn Blair

I HATE ALL OF YOU!!! [angry stomping gif] MY MAN IS STILL ALIVE TRUST!!!!

@Destiny Levine

Ok #cope

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Abby raised a brow when she noticed Elly tagging her in their group chat. Looking at her professor and then back at her phone, she decided to see what it was about.

@Amelia Keller

[sent video link] Hey @Abigail Elsher wake up

Abby catches herself before she screams, reminding herself that she is in class. Giggling, her fingers fly across the screen to type out a quick but excited reply.

@Abigail Elsher

OMG, NEW COMPANION??! Sea God Rafayel!!! [flying money emoji]

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Destiny Levine

I now understand why I have multiple holes. One for Xavier and one for Lumiere

@Evelyn Blair

Wild… But go off queen

– – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Jasmine Blair

[Sent image] I got him!!  Master of Fate Zayne, the man that you are

@Amelia Keller

Congratss! Now we wait for the crash out after she finishes the story because of the angst

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

They were all in Eve’s living room, watching the live stream for Love and Deepspace’s 2.0

“Oh? A new love interest?” Destiny points out

“I will stay loyal to fishie” Abby clutches her chest as if making a vow. Jazz nods, agreeing with her “The doctor has a tight grip on my heart I fear” Then Destiny also joins “My star is still the brightest for me”

Eve, still bitter with the unfairness of it all, pouts “Well! I’m still waiting for Caleb!” this caused the three childhood friends to giggle at the youngest’s antics.

“He’s hot though” All of them snapped their heads at where the voice came from, Elly was acting as if nothing was different but they could see how interested she was in the new character.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Jasmine Blair

Just finished long awaited revelry Can I just say? @Amelia Keller we found your man

@Amelia Keller

Found my man indeed [blushing emoji] [sent image]

@Abigail Elsher

How tf did you reach level 60 in affinity already?! Didn’t he just get released yesterday???

@Amelia Keller

I had so many diamonds saved up And I somehow binged listening to his tender moments, secret times, bonds, etc. To the point, I need more content

@Destiny Levine

She fell hard for him, got it

@Evelyn Blair

Must be nice #StillWaiting4Caleb

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

It was the release of the first quad banner and the girls were in Abby’s room. Eve was not pulling as she was saving her diamonds, Destiny was grinding since she didn’t have enough and Elly was grinning cause she already won. 

In the bed, Jazz and Abby are still wishing. The latter let out a frustrated scream a few minutes later followed by the sound of real cash being paid. “You expensive fishie” Abby grumbles as she finally gets Rafayel’s card after losing on her 50/50.

Jazz sighs as she sees the animation of a blue tail displayed on her screen “The fish always goes home to me… The doctor on the other hand”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

@Amelia Keller

Oh my… [sent video link] He’s a dragon? After all the theories of him being Hades? Not complaining though

@Evelyn Blair

Ooooh Sylus’ limited myth! Finally!!

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

@Abigail Elsher

Got spoiled, @Amelia Keller are you ok?

@Amelia Keller

[crying gif] THAT DAMN PAPER COMPANY

@Destiny Levine

“My dragon is gone” emotional damage

@Jasmine Blair

Love and Depression strikes again

@Amelia Keller

[crying emoji]

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Eve slams the door open. A big grin on her face as she goes to the table where her friends are seated. Proudly showing the announcement poster of Love and Deepspace 3.0 on their Facebook page. “Caleb is baaaaacccckkk” she excitedly yells.

The four just sighed and smiled at her “Congrats, your apple is alive” Jazz softly patted her relative’s head. 

“I’m gonna get all his cards, I have waited for this very moment!”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

@Abigail Elsher

The trailer just dropped @Evelyn Blair

@Evelyn Blair

HE’S YANDERE???!!! EVEN BETTER

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

@Jasmine Blair

[sent image] I’m afraid she’s down bad

@Abigail Elsher

HELP HAHAHAHAHA

@Destiny Levine

Eve, why the hell are you crying while holding an apple?

@Jasmine Blair

She just finished Caleb’s myth

@Amelia Keller

Apple is the only merch she can afford

@Destiny Levine

[LOL gif]

– – – – – – – – – – – – – 

The five were all gathered in Destiny’s room. All are on their gadgets playing.

“I just noticed, we are all friends but each of us main a different love interest in this game. It’s kinda funny.” Evelyn breaks the silence and Destiny giggles “Just shows how different our types are in men.” She answered.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

“Samara says she will give this game a chance.” Abby grins while sipping her drink. Now, all five are in a cafe. 

“Nice, I’m curious who she will main” Jasmine replies, amusement evident in her eyes. Abby has been whining about Love and Deepspace to her cousin to persuade her. After months, it seems that she has finally gotten the other to play.

Eve giggles. “Considering her personality, I can’t see your cousin falling for any of the current roster of LI’s. Maybe she will devote herself to the future upcoming love interest.”

“Now that would be comical” Amelia, or who they call Elly, nods. Stirring her coffee, she then adds “One of us for each love interest it seems.”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Maybe it’s because of the heavy regret she felt. Of not being able to reconcile with her friends before their demise. Abby finds herself recalling their group’s antics while playing their favorite game. The happiest that they have been together. All of the silly chats, the get-togethers, the chaos. She recalls it in the final moments of her consciousness and then it abruptly stops and she feels herself being surrounded by light.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes. Her surroundings were in a blur and her thoughts were in disarray. Confusion, relief, and anguish all mix up and fill her chest, confusing her as she gets used to the thought that she can breathe. 

She is alive

Clutching her still-aching forehead, Abby mutters a curse, gripping what she thinks is a handle to stabilize herself.

Oh gosh she is alive

The cool sensation of the metal spreads through her fingertips and she registers the cold air that wraps around her. Abby is ok, she is well and not hurt but that shouldn’t be the case. She definitely experienced dying. The phantom remnants of fear are still fresh from her mind as gravity pulled the car they were in straight down. 

So why the fuck is she alive?

Her ears adjust and she hears sounds, some sort of announcement that echoes. Her brain catches words but with how muddled she feels, it just fails to discern and piece together the information it is receiving.

“ …. now ha…. new hunters….. all…. toda..” The voice is static, the announcement coming from the public address system. It continues until it gets clearer. Then she hears a ding.

Instinctively she moves forward, now into a room devoid of light. 

She is alone, where are her friends?

“But before we go, please enjoy the gift we received……. years ago….”

Abby’s vision clears and she realizes that she is being scanned, the door where she came from closing shut. The announcement continues in the background, understands a little bit of what is being said but some words are still lost on her.

“.... these electro…. Traversed time and space a miracle of…” She heard this before, but where?

Abby compels herself to observe her environment, completely giving up on listening. All around her are high-technology, like she is in a completely advanced civilization. Squinting her eyes, she read the words that appeared before her.

“Heading to new recruit registration center.”

Then she felt the platform she was on shake and move upwards, she was on an elevator. Brightness again filled her eyesight, the view that greets her behind the glass is somewhat familiar. With tall buildings, all with futuristic designs, and cars lined up on the highway.

Abby again looks around, looking for her friends. 

‘We were together, why are they not here?’

She is visibly panicking. Bouncing on her feet and immediately bolted out once the elevator opened. Running straight into the door at the end of the singular hallway. 

With a slam, Abby enters the room. Frantically looking around, meeting with pairs of eyes that are staring back at her. Hoping to find familiar faces amidst the crowd. She stops as she finds one. However, it was not what Abby was expecting. 

It’s a familiar face, that’s for sure, but it’s a familiar face that she still hasn’t met in real life. With big brown eyes and a bob cut that frames her face. There was no mistaking who she is. It just made Abby panic more.

That is not one of her friends, staring back at her is a character that Abby is endeared with. Someone that she was close to in the game and that fact is fucking her up.

Why the hell is Tara from Love and Deepspace in front of her?

[heavenlytouches]

Daryl Dixon headcanons- little things

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

GN reader

<3 (SFW)

TW- mentions of small injuries

Just Mr. Grumpy Dixon showing his caring side :)

Daryl Dixon

You always felt like and outcast of your group so you started spending a lot of your free time with Daryl. At first, he seemed cold and unbothered by you. Little did you know it's all going to change pretty soon.

At first, it was simple things like helping you carry bags after group scavenging, teaching you how to use your knife, and teaching you how to shoot a firearm. It all appeared natural to you; he was simply trying to help like everyone else.

"Yer grasp's too loose. Hold it like this."

"You're going to shoot meh with that thing in yo' hands."

After some time, you both began to receive curious looks from the others. When Daryl insisted on being partnered with you, you could see he was acting strangely. He always kept an eye on you, no matter how far or near you were. He would rather sacrifice himself than let anything hurt you.

"Watch ya' step, clumsy. You've grown on meh, and I can't let you do something stupid now."

"I might miss ya a little too much."

Later, things became obvious. When he and Rick returned from a mission, Daryl was sprinting around the campsite, checking to see whether you were present and wanting to hug you. He was always the first to greet you in the morning and occasionally took you for a trip on his motorcycle. When you pressed against his back on the motorcycle, you could hear his breathing speed up.

"Wow, wow. Ease yo' grip, sweetie, I'm not going anywhere."

Hii guys :). I hope y'all like this little mess I made about Daryl. He's my fav character from TWD so I thought why not write something about him. Anyways, hope you liked it. Feel free to request anything!

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[therealcocoshady]

Hi Coco how are you?

So I have this plot in my head for a fanfic with multiple chapters but I'm not sure if I use Y/n in this fic or create a OC.

I created a cover for this fic on canvas but I hate the title maybe I'll change when I posted

Hi 🥰 I'm great ! Definitely doing a lot better these days. The power of a good trip to the salon to have your hair bleached followed by some retail therapy, you know ? 🙊 Also, I have received kind of amazing news when it comes to work so... Your girl is in a good mood 🙂 (I may or may not be invited to be a speaker at a prestigious event in my field). I hope you're doing amazing ❤️

Reader Insert or OC seems like the eternal question when it comes to fanfiction 🙊 When I started reading fanfiction on the Internet, about two decades ago, using Y/N and Reader Inserts was not the standard procedure at all. People would usually create an OC. Nowadays, it seems to me like more and more people use Reader Inserts. Maybe it depends on the platform you're using, the fandom and trends. I honestly think there are a couple of factors.

Ultimately, it comes down to you and what you're more comfortable with. Both definitely have their advantages and drawbacks (more on that below) but at the end of the day, you are the writer and you get to choose what you're most comfortable with. 😉

I personally love OCs. I really admire writers who can craft a good OC. It's an opportunity to be creative and write about someone who is similar to you... or not at all. You can really elaborate on their appearance, their personality traits... It's also a good exercise because then it forces you to kind of commit to the bit and ask yourself the important question "would that person actually do it ?". So, you might also find it a little time-consuming as well.

Reader Inserts and the use of Y/N offers more flexibility in my opinion, not to mention that it allows people to identify themselves to the story. And, I mean, if we're talking about writing Eminem fanfiction, who doesn't want to picture themselves in a good smutty scene with that man, right ? 😏 But for a lot of writers, using the second person pronoun can feel a bit odd and not really natural. Not to mention that it's kind of hard to keep things kind of neutral at all times. If you use a reader insert, you technically want to be as inclusive as can be and let's be honest, it's tough when you want to cater to everyone. You have to ask yourself questions about inclusivity.

I mean, there's lots to say on both and there are actually a few resources you can find on the topic ! Here's a blog post someone made, linked to a podcast, which I think is pretty interesting 🙂 There's also this Reddit post, in which people actually made interesting points !

Anyway... PLEASE keep me posted when you post that fanfiction because I will want to read it ❤️

[experthiese]

@skullkxd asked: they’re practically bouncing in the drivers seat, fiddling with the steering wheel. It’s been a while since they got to drive with Lupin. “…— sooooo,” they’re trying to sound casual. “Is my present almost ready? For winning.”

He'd known all along exactly what victory present he was going to give them. It had taken a trip to Kalos, a thorough search of the old man's mansion, and a not-insignificant amount of artist's skill, but Lupin had (finally) finished their promised present. Just in time by the look of it, too! If Ree waits much longer, they might just end up bouncing themselves right through the roof.

❝ Close your eyes, ❞ he says, reaching for the Fiat's glove box. Only once he's sure they're not looking does he pull the present out, and with a quiet rustle of cloth, deposits the mystery gift around their neck. ❝ Alright. Take a look. ❞

It's a medal. Gold in appearance, though not in composition: this medal was, originally, awarded at the 1900 Lumiose Olympic Games, the only year to have used gilt silver instead. It had fallen into Arsène's hands not through theft, but rather a gift from one of his many boyfriends, back when he'd been slightly more sane and presumably a whole lot nicer to be around. Perhaps it was the lack of theft that had resulted in his lack of care for it, for Arsène had eventually had the medal edited to reflect his own image, a gold-coated award to his crimes.

Lupin had never had any use for the thing. Why would he want some old Olympian's achievement, much less one with his grandfather's face on the front?

But now it had a new purpose.

For Lupin had had the whole face edited once more, melting off all of Arsène's contributions and leaving himself a nice, flat canvas to build on. And build on it he had! He'd taken as much care over this as DaVinci had the Mona Lisa or Van Gogh his famous Starry Night, determined to make this a masterpiece worthy of his young friend's achievement.

Zorua stands embossed in the center, gilted gold to match the rest of the medal, caught mid-howl as the devastating Black Hole Eclipse builds behind him. To capture such lifelike detail must have required some sort of reference image, but when? Had he recorded the entire battle and examined the whole thing frame-by-frame? Had he simply gotten lucky with his photography, hitting the shutter at the perfect moment?

(It's not worth asking. He won't give a straight answer, anyway.)

A message is boxed against the bottom, forming the ground Pickip's paws are standing on. Tous mes compliments. Kalosian, obviously, but no translation has been provided. Never one to exclude himself, bluebonnet plants frame the left side of the engraving: Lupinus perennis—the Lupin family plant.

❝ I noticed they don't give medals out to Champions. A shame, really—we'll hand 'em out left, right and center to Olympian sportspeople, but not the strongest battlers in a region? It makes no sense to me. ❞

❝ So, I thought I'd take matters into my own hands. There's over a hundred and twenty years of achievement stored in that metal— ❞ one hundred and twenty four, to be exact, ❝ —and now you're its newest bearer. Wear it with pride, kid: you earned it. ❞

[themoreitisreproduced]

ReMark Exhibition Review

I feel a lot of rage about the obvious class divide in art. It is, as a medium, one of the most expensive hobbies to peruse, and most interestingly, is often condemned as ‘not a real career, pick something more stable’ by lower-class parents. They are not wrong, an arts career comes with its risks as well as its rewards (though mostly risks), and it is a struggle to get into. Public transport costs, fuel costs, and the costs of eating and merchandise for a trip to gallery all add up, and not everyone can afford them. Then, of course, there is also the issue of children. The inaccessibility of art fuels most of my rage, which is why when I come across an exhibition placed in a shopping centre, such as Chester’s Grosvenor Shopping Centre, I smile, because people are going to be there anyway.

The ReMark exhibit is an exhibition that centres ‘four acclaimed artists from the north-west’, Terry Duffy, Julie Saul, Julie Mayer, and Anne Byrne. It is good to see an exhibition in the north-west focusing on artists from the north-west instead of proving many fears of art being unstable by utilising the (very talented) artists from the south. It promotes, the north-western children who go and see it, that a career in the arts is possible. It is a refreshing reminder that people can be successful as an artist, and not have to move themselves to London (or one of the many numerous places down south) to be so. It is nice to see that, at a time when, for the past several years, the future of the arts has been hotly debated and funding decreased, the curators are reaching out to people who are artists from the same area as the people traveling to view the exhibit are. It helps foster a sense of community, one that has been severally lacking since the pandemic.

The paintings and pieces of art themselves are displayed in ‘The Large White Cube’, the standard setting for art displays which helps the viewer become disconnected from the outside world, though this falls slightly flat here. The old shopping unit that the exhibit is in does not have any doors, so it is rather difficult for The Large White Cube to take effect, and you are instead left with, on one side, a piece of art, and on the other, a screaming child in Costa. Is this to say that the exhibit as a whole is bad? No, not at all. It can be apricated for its efforts of bringing together a community at a time when such bonds are found lacking, but you are left, when faced with Duffy’s MONUMENTS-Revisted and their almost geode-like appearance, if this is the best the curators can think to do with this space? It would be different if, perhaps, the unit had doors on it, even if they were glass, or there was some kind of music playing to drown out the rest of the noise of the shopping centre.

Though the exhibit is not all paintings on a wall. Rather cleverly, knowing that this exhibit would be taking place in a shopping centre where lots of children would be, they provide the chance to make your own mark. Two massive sheets of canvas hang in the corner along with several buckets of coloured chalk (chunky, so they are easy for children to hold), child-size tables and chairs, and several blank notebooks. This gives the patrons (children or not) a chance to make art by themselves, and it is the most beautiful piece in the exhibit. The pieces of art made by the many footsteps display many languages, drawings, names, references and jokes that are understood only to a few people, as they are then covered by the next round of languages, drawings, names, references and jokes, and they are then covered by the next round, and so on and so forth. Flipping b through the books you will find numerous amounts of drawings of many abilities, and words of a similar nature. Many children who have just learnt to write their names will have scrawled them messily in the books with their favourite coloured chalk, messages of hope and unity, and several very worthy art pieces.

ReMark is open until the 7th of March at Chester Grosvener Shopping Centre.

Words: 730

[gonzoglass]

The Opening Salvo, Cheap Glass For NIKKORheads! headache-induced rambling.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step – Chinese proverb.

Nikon is probably one of the cheapest Camera brands to get into these days. That's mainly due to the fact that the F mount contains some of the most illogically cheap glass ever seen on a system to date! But there really hasn't been anyone trying to make a modern day, comprehensive list of all of the little buggers that exist. This is frankly due to the ever growing fact that there is too many lenses for one person to trouble themselves with because there can only be so many styles, focal lengths and F-stops one can touch on before they themselves become absolutely stone-mad and try to eat the canvas bag that holds your camera. There are people that review them as they come along and itemize them and props to those who can put up with that kind of cheap bullshit. But I’ll not bring Ken Rockwell into this whole charade if I don't have to.

Black-eyed Susans - Nikon D3, Nikkor AF-D 80-200mm F2.8 one touch, ISO 400, F3.2, 1/400 second

With the Glass Problem I have, it seems that i have no real basis to try and hunt for the Good pieces of shiny Circular Goodness on my own. Ken Rockwell can help as a sort of basic bitch barometer but his Certified Hot Takes and Oversaturated images can only carry me so far. The best thing I can do then, Really. Is get grounded and try to cope with what I can get to and throw out the rest as cheap bullshit for the hounds to go after. 1987 and beyond Glass that can actually be worth a Damn. But the method of finding the diamonds in the rough can roughly be equated to going Landmine-Hunting with a sledgehammer.

Forest Corridor. Nikon D3, AF-D Nikkor 18-35mm F3.5-4.5 ED, F9, 35mm, 1/500sec, ISO 640

With all of this and the above rambling, it feels like the best idea to me is to get some grounding on the opening of this Shameful Diary is to itemize the pros and cons of the glass I already have as I step up to get their newer counterparts alongside picking up some of the old, manual AI and AI converted numbers. Why not? It makes perfect sense to me. “Catalog what you know, pick up on what you don't” Maybe Ill Improve in this hobby for once in my life. But the immediate problem that I ran into with that angle is twofold. One; my collection of glass can best be described as “Eclectic” And two, if I really want to wring the potential Max Performance out of these shiny glass cylinders my brain is screaming at me that I should get a camera with a higher megapixel sensor inside of it. This idea gets constantly brought up by the council of mad gerbils that tens to run my inner thoughts, but is immediately shot down by the idea that the camera we would “like to step up to” the D850, does not supersede bills. So its immediately thrown out until I can cope with buying its just-as-capable cousin, the D800.

Dog! Nikon F4S. Ektachrome E100 Before I veer off into any tangents or this manic wave passes over me and ill be left in a catatonic slump. Ill itemize a few of the repeat Photon-Wranglers that will show up here and mention some of the glass I hope to gather and show off. In the vein hopes of becoming a niche internet micro-celebrity on a dead website that had strange porn on it coming out through the eyeballs. This is what I get for not bothering to make a proper website. But once again, things like that cost money, which i don't tend to have a lot of for long periods of time. mainly all of it is spent on fanciful trips or restocks on film, not to mention development of the buggers. But anyway!

Repeat appearances will include the; Nikon D3 Nikon F4S Nikon D800/D850 (When purchase of either is applicable) Nikon F FTN Eventual Glass Purchases;

AFS Nikkor 24-120mm F4 G type AFS Nikkor 50mm F1.8 G type AF-D Nikkor 24mm F2.8 AF-D Nikkor 35mm F2 AF-D Nikkor 300mm F2.8 ED

AFS Nikkor 200-500mm F5.6 ED VR E type Vogitlander Nokton 58mm F1.4 SL-2 S AFS Nikkor 300mm F4 D type AFS nikkor 28-300mm F3.5-5.6 G type Among others.

But as I Shuffle through the Glass I have in an effort to either Sell or keep them Maybe some special moment will arrive that will make me think that all of this spent money on glass, film development, digital bodies and endless hours working out how the fuck a modern flashgun works or how to edit my RAW files like i know what im doing will be all worthwhile. Or it will make me want to travel back in time and throttle whoever designed the AF-D 80-200mm F2.8 one touch to have its’ focal length be changed by jerking off the main section of the barrel.

Atlas 1/8/2024

[doughisaur]

This was originally uploaded to DeviantArt on July 27, 2023 and FurAffinity on October 1, 2023. The original description from the DeviantArt upload is below.

"Perfect day to relax on the beach, right guys?"

It's the middle of July in Aunov, which means the height of summer has arrived. It's the hottest time of year, the brightest and longest the sun is out. Folks are staying inside as much as possible in the air conditioning, in pools, or as we see our quartet, at the beach. We find Cinnamon, Cookie, and Mac all enjoying themselves on this summer equinox along the southern Aunova shores, basking in the sun as they all share a conversation and relax. Cherry, on the other handpaw, seems to have found himself volunteering (or being volun-told) to be Cookie's beach towel. But can you really be upset at that? You get free hugs from him!

This is perhaps one of my favorite drawings that I've done in a long time. Originally, I planned to participate in Art Fight this year; I had planned to be on vacation for the entire month of July as early as last year to spend it with my boyfriend, and found the timing to be perfect to jump in. However, I was pretty sidetracked with taking care of Grandma's house, work, and preparing for my trip throughout May and June, and for two weeks on vacation, I still couldn't fight off art block. That is, until I decided to resurface an old sketch I had done in February 2021, which was meant for a new character reference. I was pretty happy with the pose (until I ran out of page space again), but felt that it would work better for something different, and converted it into this. Originally, this picture was going to be just Cookie. However, through conversations and ideas posed by my friends on Discord, it then became involving Mac, which then also became involving Cinnamon, and then also getting Cherry in here somehow. With the exception of Cherry, everyone in this picture was drawn from scratch, using bits and pieces from other sketches and drawings to get the right angles that I wanted. I spent all of Friday, July 14 coloring Cookie; most of Tuesday, July 18 sketching Mac and Cinnamon respectively, and then all of Wednesday, July 19 coloring them both and creating the background along with altering old art of Cherry to make him appear flat.

This is perhaps one of the largest pictures I've also ever made, coming in at 15,000 × 10,000, and that's really just a side effect of the canvas sizes I draw on. But it also ended up being this way because I was including three full-body characters in the same frame. If you couldn't tell, I really enjoy drawing full-body. Still, it's a reminder that in the future, I really should draw on smaller canvases and color on smaller canvases as well. That, or just start learning how to color on the iPad only. Shoutout to LilArrin and his custom PC for handling this mammoth project that didn't need to be this way, it handled the whole process so flawlessly that my iMac back home would've screamed trying to handle a canvas this size. But I love the way it came out, I loved drawing everyone in this picture, especially Mac. Sure, he doesn't wear much already, so that gave me the opportunity to come up with a summer outfit, and it's a good thing Beach Koopas are a thing because that was the perfect base to work with. Turn his glasses into sunglasses, give him a tank top and sandals and design both it and his beach towel with circuitry. Man, I love this look, I really wanna try and incorporate it into a new look for him sometime. Cinnamon was also a ton of fun to draw, it was just a bit harder with the angle she was in, and that includes her skirt.

Anyway, thanks for looking! I hope everyone's been able to enjoy their summer! ☀️

[cateyedblondie]

“Man, Leo’s gonna flip out when he see’s these!” Morgana said quietly to herself, looking into the canvas bag she carried with her.

Different tools of all shapes and sizes sat inside, shiny and new. Her brother’s birthday was quickly approaching, and she’d been stumped on what to get him.

Until a perfect guide had nearly tripped her on her way to her college campus, earlier that day- a toolbox filled with just the sort of tools her brother had been thinking about getting for his freshman robotics club!

Said toolbox and tools sat safely in her backpack. Now that she was done using them as a guide, she needed to return them to where she’d found them- their owner was probably looking for them.

What Morgana hadn’t expected, was a pink haired young man that looked to be the same age as her to run up, eyes looking frantic and asking about a missing toolbox.

For a moment, the stranger’s appearance seemed to stun the blonde- he really was striking to look at, wasn’t he? Definitely the kind of person her mother would take one look at and declare she needed to sculpt.

It took Morgana another moment, for the words being said to fully register, and quickly connected the dots.

“Oh! Yeah, I have that!” She said, setting her canvas bag aside and quickly shrugging off her large black and magenta tie-dyed backpack, undoing the zipper and pulling out the toolbox.

“I saw it setting on the ground over there. And I’m waaaaay too nosy not to take a look inside, especially when it was painted so cool!” Morgana said, and the way her Japanese sounded definitely suggested she hadn’t been brought up learning the language- while very intelligible, there was still the undertones of someone self taught who was still working on getting the proper inflections and pronunciations fully down.

“My little brother back home, he’s starting robotics club this year, and has been wanting some new tools for it. And I know nothing about tools, but I could tell these were some good ones, so I figured I’d take them with me to the mechanic shop and get a new set.” Morgana paused her rambling, a sheepish smile crossing her face as she adjusted the toolbox to one hand, her other coming up to rub the back of her neck anxiously.

“I was hoping I could put it back, before anyone noticed it was gone… guess that didn’t really work out, heh.” She said, a weak and embarrassed chuckle escaping her as she held the toolbox out to the sharp toothed stranger.

“Anyways, sorry about making you stress. I really didn’t mean to.” She said, looking to the side for a moment, before a determined look crossed her face.

“Lemme buy you a drink, to make up for it! There’s a really good bubble tea and shake shop I’m obsessed with like a block from here!” Morgana said, wine-colored eyes determined as they looked into pink ones.

"Shit, shit... where could it be?! I know I didn't leave it there... it's not in the workshop, not in my hand.. I-It couldn't have just run off! Did someone take it or something?!"

He's running around looking frantically for... something. The nervous energy that he always has up seems even worse than it normally is, too. Whatever he lost, it seems to have really messed him up, enough to go and ask the first person he sees for information.

"H-hey, you wouldn't have happen to have seen a tool box anywhere, would you? Kind of this big? Decorated with some cool spray paint, and has all my fucking tools in it?!"

[heiayen]

luck in disguise - bennett&reader (platonic)

tags: platonic, headcanons, it's more on the comedic side!! you and bennett can't catch a break but... you at least discovered something cool?

summary: ah, a funny trip to liyue with bennett, surely nothing can go wrong! right? (spoiler, it did.)

a/n: iM SO RUSTY crying emoji anyways hello!! @my-white-canvas i got you for the white day event and here's my gift for you~ i followed the prompt you gave cuz it was pretty cute and funny?? and i wish i could write more and better but 😭😭 either way i hope youll like it, have a nice day and take care muah

It started with a nice, sunny day when you and Bennett had no tasks to take care of and could go for an enjoyable trip to Liyue! Just a short trip, to visit some pretty places, eat some good food, get chased by hilichurls, fall into a waterfall…? Oh, dear. Let's go back to the beginning, shall we?

It all started when you decided to go on a trip. A longer walk with your friend was always a good thing, so you asked Bennett if he wanted to go with you. Even despite his bad luck, he was a great companion to have around! So when he agreed, you packed some food and other things you might need, and you two went off on the adventure.

It was… going, somehow. At first, it was pretty okay! You two could talk about random things, enjoying the view of Liyue… until a hilichurl attacked you. And then another one, followed by a mitachurl! Luckily, you managed to somehow defeat them without bigger problems and without losing too much stuff… Well, good for you two!

After that, you decided to set your trip goal on Qingce village. It was a relatively close place, and very pretty too, so why not? You decided to take the longer path, avoiding Wuwang Hill. Look, it's an… interesting place, to say the least, but you two had enough monsters and not-monsters to deal with, alright? Let's go, then!

The walk to the village was actually calmer than you expected, which was weird. Something had to happen soon, and Bennett tripping over air twice in the past five minutes was not it. And, well, just as you thought about it, you heard some crackles of electricity around. You looked around to see a bunch of electro cicins near you. Just how did they appear here, and from where?

It was risky to fight with them around water, especially if your companion was a very unlucky pyro vision wielder, so you decided to simply run away. Or, at least that was your plan because suddenly, you heard a yell coming from the said companion. You looked around to see what was going on, and…

Wait, where's Bennett?!

You heard water splash and a yell, but could find no Bennett around! And you still had electro cicins trying to electrocute you! Was Bennett somewhere underwater? Well, he probably was, so you had to jump in and help him! Well, maybe it was a bit dumb thing to do, but it was all panic speaking… and so you jumped. And to your surprise, you ended… in an underwater cave?

Wow. And Bennett was there, too! Sitting in the water, seemingly unharmed, just with wet clothes and his backpack. Really, this was luck in disguise that he was alright. You looked around at the cave. The cave was… surprisingly beautiful. Full of crystal ores, even some grass and flowers, the water seemed to shine, as if this cave was something more. It was as if Bennett's luck for once didn't bring only bad things! Well, your clothes are wet, and so is your stuff, but! It certainly can't get any worse.

Right?

You two decide to stay for some time in the cave, to rest and then find a way to somehow get out of it. The resting time was spent talking with Bennett, trying to save any of your stuff (you failed to do so), and sharing this one apple that somehow survived the great waterfall fall. It was nice, really nice… until you two heard some wet noises, and suddenly got attacked by a bunch of hydro slimes!

Oh dear. You can't catch a break for too long, can't you? At least Bennett had his pyro vision, so the fight wasn't too long or troublesome, and actually a good laugh when you two were safe. Really, just what else will this trip bring to you? But well, to know the answer to this question, you first need to somehow get out of this cave…

Ah, good luck with that!

[the-road-from-calvary]

Couldn’t get the visual out of my head, wrote this while on the clock at work and you’re all subject to it now

-

Carla was not sure apartment living was meant to be this weird.

When Carla moved out from her parent’s place in LA, they had no end of reasons she should not. Chief among them was the fact that the cost of living in LA was atrocious, she’d not be able to find anything other than an apartment, and apartment living was terrible.

Until now, it had seemed she had proven her parents wrong. Her neighbors in the apartment complex in which she eventually found a place were largely quiet, respectful, and seemed inclined to privacy, which suited Carla fine.

Her nearest neighbor, a glamorous young woman who introduced herself as Mia Monroe when they were once trapped in an elevator together, was something of an enigma. Stunningly beautiful and almost impossibly charming, she seemed to flit in and out of her apartment at all hours of the night. Carla never did figure out what she did for a living - perhaps a model? Maybe an artist - she thought she’d seen a canvas or two enter the apartment.

It was something of a let down, when the young woman dashed off on an indefinite trip to Paris - a destination Carla only knew due to a rambling request to care for her roommate’s plants. When the key to the apartment was never delivered, Carla assumed the young woman had opted to leave the apartment entirely, and hoped her new neighbors would be at least as respectful, if not as interesting. Instead, no new residents appeared, and the apartment sat empty for over a year. 

Until this past weekend, when she abruptly returned. When Carla had stopped by to apologize for the state of the plants - not that she could have actually done anything about them, but it seemed the right thing to do - Mia had seemed wholly confused for several moments. After Carla clarified (your roommate?) Mia laughed lightly. “Oh! I left him in Paris, don’t worry about it!”

Behind Mia, also in the apartment stood two men. One was a scruffy, sad dog looking man in a large coat, and the other was- the fashion designer Jackie Mczyne?

Well. She supposed that answered the model question, anyway. Carla assumed the situation would have returned to normal now that her neighbor was back. But, not only had the two guests not yet left, more... kept arriving?

First it was a scarred, Italian gentleman - whose visits always seemed to correlate with a lot of loud arguments. A rather sweet blue haired couple was in and out several times. One of them seemed familiar, but Carla could never quite place them, only getting the vague memories of the last time her old college friend had been going on about ghost youtube videos.

Next was a woman that Carla faintly remembered from a visit before, where the woman’d had the most formal manners Carla had experienced outside of a conference room. The woman was accompanied by another person with blue hair - this one, Mia greeted dramatically as her child, something that seemed somewhat improbable. Carla was pretty sure no one that young would be allowed to adopt, and Mia was definitely too young to have an adult child by any other means.

This would all be well and good - surely, neighbors were allowed to have friends over. But it did become wearying - the lot of them seemingly in and out of the apartment at all hours of the night. They did, at least, settle down during the day.

Which was almost more unsettling. 

Look, curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was such an odd assortment of people and personalities. A call and a description to her friend had even yielded that the vaguely familiar one was some youtuber who had recently gone into retirement - her friends wailing lamentations something that Carla immediately resolved she would absolutely not mention. How did one person even gather so many seemingly incompatible people in one space?

(Poorly, the answer may have been, given the frequency with which arguments seemed to break out)

Anyway, look. Carla had a full dozen eggs sitting cozily in her fridge but. The Jackie Mczyne was next door, along with people she could derive no obvious connection between. So she pretended to need to borrow eggs from her neighbor. Sue her. It’s supposed to be one of the benefits of apartment living!

Of course, even that was strange. The gruff gentleman was the one to answer the door rather than Mia, who he said was asleep. Then he said they had no eggs at all. Before he shut the door, Carla thought she caught sight of the scarred man and he looked -

Well, she’d watched a few crime shows.

“Is he okay?”

“Who?” The man turned to look behind him, then placed himself to better block visibility into the apartment. “Ah, Nero’ll be fine. He uh.... He sleeps like the dead, right? Could shout all afternoon and not wake him.”

The man’s smile was distinctly uncomfortable, but Carla could find no other reason to pry, and left. Though, she was reassured to see the now-named Nero stalking out of the apartment a few hours later.

So again, Carla tried very, very hard to reassure herself that it’s normal. Sometimes people just have a few guests for a weekend, it’s fine, it’s completely normal-

But it is nearly 3am on Monday night, and she’s swear to god the thumping sounds are accompanied by an argument about punching milk and people keep shouting about Italians and volcanoes and she has work in the morning.

When she finally works up the nerve to complain, she’s somewhat relieved it’s Mia who opens the door - surely, the one who actually lives there will be concerned with the neighbors? The complaints nearly immediately fly out of her head, however. She always does forget how charming her neighbor is - no small wonder she has so many interesting friends.

When Carla returns to her own apartment, she still feels somewhat starstruck as she clambers back into her bed, and tries her best to fall sleeps to the continuous arguing emanating from the kitchen next door.

When she wakes the next morning, by her door is a box with a note in it:

My apologies for the disruption to your routine. I understand the frustration you may be experiencing. If you wish, I have made reservations for you at a nearby hotel until our visit has concluded, so that continued issues are hopefully minimized.

-A. V.

Beneath the note is a single cannoli.

[snowdrrops]

about candy and keychains

feat. ! soukoku / double black includes ! fluff

The sun had just set below the horizon, giving the city a warm orange glow. Birds could be seen flying overhead, chirping as they went along. Sounds of traffic and the bustling of people filled the evening air.

“Take a break, Chuuya-kun,” Mori stated after taking a quick glance at some documents the former had brought him, “I have a sense that someone is waiting for you downstairs.”

Puzzled and intrigued by this revelation, Chuuya recounted his schedule for the day only to remember that he had nothing going on that evening.

Then what could he have meant, Chuuya thought as he exited the Port Mafia headquarters.

And he almost tripped over someone’s foot.

With a hand on his hat to ensure it wouldn’t fall, his eyes snapped up to the perpetrator.

“Dazai.”

“Bleh, why do I have to see your face here?” the other man pulled a disgusted expression.

“In case you’ve forgotten, this is my workplace,” Chuuya retorted.

Dazai started heading towards one of the cars parked nearby, waving off what Chuuya was saying with, “Hey, wanna go for a drive?”

Shifting in his seat, Chuuya wondered how he had gotten himself in this situation.

Beside him, Dazai was humming along to a song while his eyes were trained on the road and hands on the steering wheel. There was something different about him. In a bad way, of course.

“What’s gotten into you? Why the good mood?”

Dazai glanced at him from his peripheral vision, his lip curving up slightly and eyes crinkled, “Take a guess.”

“You found some woman to commit a double suicide with you?”

With a dejected sigh, he responded with, “Oh, how I wish.”

Chuuya scoffed and turned his attention to studying Dazai’s car. It wasn’t everyday that he had the opportunity to, anyway.

Dazai hadn’t personalised it much, it could have passed off as an unused car. The only thing that could’ve given it away was a keychain in the shape of the letter ‘g’ hanging from the rearview mirror.

He gathered that it was rather new. The dashboard was free of dust particles, and the fingerprints on the door handle were not that noticeable. Chuuya wondered if Dazai had taken anyone else on a drive. Merely out of sheer curiosity, of course.

“Grab a piece of candy from the beverage holder if you’d like. A colleague gave me a whole packet.”

“They must’ve been trying to poison you.”

The candy in question was wrapped in light pink plastic and a strawberry cartoon printed on the top right corner.

He swiftly took one and tore it open, popping it into his mouth. Few were aware of the fact that Chuuya was fond of strawberry glazed food (he wouldn’t even admit it to himself sometimes).

It was night now, the clouds hardly visible from the canvas of the vast dark sky. If Chuuya squinted hard enough, he’d be able to catch a glimpse of the myriad of stars strewn across the sky.

A few minutes had passed by before Dazai spoke casually, “By the way, the candy expired about a month ago.”

“Why, you-!” he huffed in exasperation, crossing his arms and turning away from the other man.

This was also when he noticed that they were definitely not in Yokohama, none of the buildings around were familiar to him and Dazai had been driving for at least half an hour.

“Oi, where the heck are we?” Chuuya questioned, his suspicion growing by the second, “Are you trying to lead me to a desolate place to kill me?”

“I haven’t been to Tokyo in awhile,” was all he got in response.

Chuuya’s gaze lingered on Dazai, wondering just what had gotten into him. Appearing outside his office, driving to Tokyo? Seriously, something was definitely off.

Not wanting to dig deeper into what had gotten into the man beside him, Chuuya felt his eyelids grow heavy as he leant his head against the cool glass of the window and drifted off into a slumber.

Dazai turned the car engine off and let out a yawn.

The drive had been long and made him lethargic, but the destination was worth it.

Chuuya was groggily rubbing his eyes, still in a stupor of sleepiness.

“We’re here,” Dazai announced as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, leaving Chuuya to follow along.

“This bastard,” Chuuya mumbled under his breath, before following suit and trailing after the other man.

Waves were crashing against sand relentlessly, the sound reverberating throughout the beach.

Unnoticed by Chuuya (probably due to his sleepy state), Dazai had grabbed a picnic blanket from the car. He splayed it across the sand before sitting down, arms wrapped around his knees.

Chuuya settled down beside him, taking in his surroundings. There was a bar nearby, which served as their only light source.

“You go for drives often?”

“Mhm. Always by myself, though. I hate people being in my car.”

“Eh? What about me?”

Dazai shot him a blank look, “I didn’t ask you on a drive. You invited yourself.”

“Huh?! You-”

Dazai placed a finger to his lips and made a loud shushing noise. “Chuuya, stop disturbing the peace of this haven with your obnoxiously loud complaints.”

Chuuya tried coming up with a retort but eventually gave up. “Sometimes I don’t know what I should do with you.”

Dazai turned his gaze towards him, his eyes withholding an undetectable emotion. There were so many words stuck in his throat, some of them even he himself couldn’t begin to comprehend the meaning of.

Since the words proved to be too much, he settled for silence.

Chuuya would not mention that seven years ago, he had found that exact same brand of sweets in Dazai’s car on his office desk from an anonymous person. He wouldn’t mention that the very same keychain that hung from the rearview mirror was the same one he’d gifted Dazai when they were fifteen.

It was a beautiful night for stargazing.

[danydragons21]

TSTS: Chapter 17

Chapter 17 is posted! Read it on ao3 here. 

CHAPTER 17: RAIN

The plan was all set. 

As soon as word came of Autumn Court soldiers appearing in Pentalos, Azriel and Elain would suddenly have to attend an “important and impromptu meeting” in Velaris. In reality, she and Azriel would bypass the Night Court altogether and fly for Pentalos, where they would spend three whole days searching for clues. Now all she had to do was wait.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. It was only four days later when Azriel excitedly related a report from one of his many spies: Autumn Court soldiers had been spotted in Pentalos.  She made her excuses to Vassa, surprising herself with how little guilt she felt. There were secrets living between the two of them already; what was one more?

Besides, Elain thought her friend would applaud her gall. Her trip would consist of her doing a plethora of un-Elain-like things: sneaking around, lying about her location, spending consecutive days and evenings alone with a male who was not her mate…well, maybe Vassa wouldn’t like that last one, given her incredibly close friendship with Lucien. Maybe closer than friends, if she were to believe the rumors. Not that she cared. And not that anything untoward would happen between her and Azriel whilst away; of course not. It was the thrill of a secret mission in an exotic place that had her stomach fluttering. 

They stood in her room, her overnight bag slung over his shoulder. She’d packed her bag in advance, filling it with plainer, darker clothing than she normally wore. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself.  

“Ready?” Azriel asked. Elain nodded excitedly.

“Great,” he said. “We can go as soon as you agree to something.”

She frowned. “What?”

“No matter what, you have to follow my orders. We are going on a mission together, but I am in charge.” 

Her eyes rolled dramatically. “Yes, Spymaster.”

“I’m serious, Elain. Any order I give, you have to follow it.”

“I will. I promise.”

“If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you leave me and save yourself. ”

She stayed silent. 

“You have to promise me. I won’t take you unless you promise.”

She sighed. “I promise. I’ll follow any order you give me.”

His eyes sparkled with relief. “Good.”

“But you have to promise me something.”

He groaned and rubbed his temples. “Why did I think I could get you to agree to something so easily?”

“I’m not sure. Wishful thinking? Anyway,” her demeanor turned more serious, “You have to promise me that you will not be an overprotective Fae male who refuses to let me get my hands dirty. You might be in charge, but I am still a part of this team. Let me help.”

He studied her for a moment before exhaling loudly. “I promise.”

She grinned triumphantly.

***

The small painting in Rosehall was nearly an injustice to the utter magnificence that was Pentalos. 

Azriel shadow-traveled them directly onto a beach surrounding the foot of the island, which gave a perfect view of the city. Brightly-colored houses were built into the side of the steep, sloping elevation that made up the landscape. The top was plateaued slightly, and even from where Elain stood, she could see the canvas tents of the trading market. It was exactly like she’d seen in her vision.

She took a step forward and then glanced down in surprise at the odd sensation. Sand. Of course she was standing on sand; they were on a beach…but Elain had never been to the beach before. She’d never seen so much sand, so much sunlight, so much sea. It took her breath away. 

She turned to Azriel. “Do we have a few minutes to spare?”

“Of course.” His eyes were shining. “I brought us to this spot specifically. I thought you might like to see it.”

Instead of replying, she kicked off her shoes. The sand was coarse and gritty beneath her feet. She lifted the hem of her gown high and stepped into the turquoise water. It was surprisingly warm. A school of silver-scaled fish swam circles around her feet. She laughed in pure delight and, hiking her dress up higher, waded further into the sea. The water was nearly up to her thighs when she glanced back at the shore. Azriel was standing there, his gaze as scorching as the sun. Despite the sultry, tropical climate, she felt a chill go down her spine. 

“Get in!” She yelled, waving at him.

He shook his head, smiling slightly. Just watching her. 

She gave up on him after that and turned back to the grand expanse of sea in front of her. Inhaled the salty air and let it fill her lungs entirely. Slowly, she lifted her head up to the sky and closed her eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt right where she was supposed to be. 

***

After the beach, the rest of the day was spent exploring the island. Of course they kept an eye out for Autumn Court soldiers…but in between visiting the many trading booths. There was simply so much to see and do and experience that their spy mission fell briefly to the side.

There was one booth that sold the most beautiful silk dresses Elain had ever seen; the material looked less like fabric and more like water, constantly rippling. Another boasted a variety of medicinal powders that claimed to heal anything from a sore throat to a twisted ankle to a broken heart. At a stand that sold exotic treats, she accepted Azriel’s dare and ate a petrified toad that was deep-fried and drizzled in some rich sauce reminiscent of chocolate. It was actually quite tasty. 

Hours later, she and Azriel were still traipsing through the market, each sipping on a raspberry tea concoction infused with rock salt and something called “ether-milk,” when their perfect day was interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder.

“It’s going to rain,” Elain said, frowning at the quickly-darkening sky. She’d been having so much fun she hadn’t even noticed the worsening weather. 

“Typical island weather,” Azriel said. It seemed he hadn’t expected rain, either. “We’ll need to find an inn and take shelter till the storm dies down.”

They were not the only ones with that idea. The first two inns they found were completely full; by the time they found a third, the rain had turned from a light sprinkle to an absolute downpour. 

“Say a prayer to all the gods and goddesses that this inn has availability,” Azriel said as they entered. He shook his head slightly, sending water droplets flying. 

“You couldn’t have just shadow-traveled us here?” Elain muttered, examining her drenched clothes. “Maybe then we could have avoided getting soaked.” She began wringing out her hair.

“It would have been rather conspicuous if we appeared out of the shadows, wouldn’t it have?” he responded in an undertone. 

“Next!” The innkeeper called. His eyes widened as he took in Azriel’s tall, imposing figure. “One room?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Two, please.” 

“I’m afraid I only have one left.” 

Elain’s breath caught in her throat. Hazel eyes flitted to hers, to the pouring rain visible through the window, and then back to the innkeeper. 

“We’ll take it.” A handful of coins were tossed onto the counter. The innkeeper quickly scooped up the money and gave them a key. 

“Room 21. Second floor, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” Elain murmured quietly, her heart racing. Azriel merely inclined his head and gestured for her to lead the way up the rickety staircase.

The room was small, but pleasantly so. A fire roared in the stone hearth, igniting the walls in a soft glow. A decently-sized tin tub sat in the far corner. The bed looked comfortable enough, if not rather narrow. Elain wasn’t sure how both her and Azriel would fit in it without touching, especially with those massive wings of his. A shiver went down her spine. Would he have to curl her body into his and wrap his wings around her in order to lie comfortably? What if she accidentally touched one of them, ran a light finger down the leathery membrane? She could almost hear the noise he’d make. Could almost imagine him bucking his hips against her ass, the lovely pressure of his big, hard—

“I can have them bring up water for a bath.”

Elain started. “What? Why?” Blood rushed to her cheeks. Thank the gods for the rosy glow of the firelight. And for the fact that shadows couldn’t read minds.

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you wet?”

Oh, Mother above. “No!” She said, and then glanced down to her utterly soaked clothes and the small puddle of residual water that had formed at her feet. “I mean, yes. Yes I am. A bath would be great.” She stammered out. I’m never thinking about his wings again.

Though he looked slightly concerned for her mental health, Azriel nodded and left, presumably to call for a bath. She pinched her nose and sighed heavily. “Pull it together, Elain,” she said to herself. She still had to make it through the rest of the night and was not off to a very strong start. 

A pair of young maids entered the room, each carrying a bucket full of steaming hot water. It took four trips for them to fill the tub completely. When the maids exited the room, Azriel reentered, a bundle of fabric in his hands. 

“I’m afraid everything we packed is still soaking.I was able to find a few dry dresses for you, though; apparently the innkeeper has a daughter who’s moved away, but she left behind a few gowns. He thinks they should be about your size.”

Elain just took the dresses and simply nodded her thanks, not trusting herself to speak. The crackling of the fire echoed through the silence that followed. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Azriel said rather formally, and then bowed slightly, his back rigid, before stalking out of the room and closing the door behind him. She wrinkled her nose. Since when did Azriel bow to her? 

Perhaps she was not the only one in a strange mood this evening.

***

Azriel sat in the dining hall in the inn, having quickly scarfed down a bowl of stew and was now just positively stewing himself. Stewing and scowling and scolding himself for agreeing to bring Elain along on this mission in the first place.

He was, in fact, in a very strange mood. The whole day was starting to feel like a strange fever dream. Never in his centuries-long life could he remember feeling so at peace. after the next, and this culmination—him and Elain having to share a room at an inn in the middle of nowhere, Elain taking a bath in that very room right now, the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about the water dripping off her body in little streams, sliding down the generous curves of her waist—well, he was cursing each and every one of the gods right now. 

And drinking. He wasn’t sure he could survive this evening if he wasn’t at least a little bit drunk. Especially because of the utter humiliation he felt after he bowed to her, like the stupid, lovesick idiot he was. Grimacing, he ran a hand over his jaw—he really needed to shave soon—and threw back the rest of his ale. It was sour and heavy, just like he liked it. 

He was finishing his third tankard of ale when Elain appeared in the dining hall, her damp hair plaited down her back, her skin fresh and dewy. She wore one of the borrowed gowns, and it was rather tight on her, stretching precariously across her chest. Not that he minded. He watched as she scanned the dining hall. When she spotted him, she smiled and made her way over. 

“Hello,” she said brightly, if not rather shyly, as she slid into the bench across from him. “I’ve finished my bath. The maids said they are happy to bring you up clean hot water in just a few minutes.”

But Azriel shook his head. “No need for that. I’ll just use the water already there.”

Elain looked scandalized. “But-but-,” she stammered. He just raised an eyebrow.

 “It’s dirty,” she nearly whimpered. 

He smirked in response. “Believe me, I’ve bathed in dirtier scenarios than your used bathwater.” And because she still looked so appalled, and probably because of the three pints of ale he had for some reason thought were necessary, he added in a husky voice, “Far dirtier than you can imagine.” 

Her reaction was worth it. Immediately, her cheeks grew beet red, the blush spreading all the way down her chest. She seemed at a loss for words. 

Azriel stood and dropped a few coins on the table. “Get yourself some dinner. I won’t take but a few minutes.” He paused and lowered his voice. “My shadows will keep an eye on you. But just in case…” From the sheath at his side, he drew out Truth-Teller and placed it inconspicuously in Elain’s palm.

Her eyes widened even further, and still unable to speak, she gave a stiff nod in confirmation. He bit his lip to hide his grin and proceeded up the stairwell. When he entered the room, he had to bite his lip even more, this time to hold back a groan. The entire room smelled like jasmine and verbena and lemons and Elain. 

Oh, this was going to be a very difficult night. 

***

Elain had only just finished her stew when Azriel reappeared in the dining hall. Since his packed clothes were just as drenched as hers, he’d borrowed a shirt and pants from the innkeeper, as well. Unfortunately for him, the clothes were not even close to his size. Several inches of ankle showed beneath the much-too-small pants. The shirt seemed to fit a little better, but it was a bright yellow color. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a color besides black,” her voice shaking with unrepressed laughter. 

He scowled as he slid into the bench across from her. “I feel like a canary.”

“Exactly my thoughts.”

Choosing to ignore her, he asked, “Any trouble while I was gone?”

“Not even a little. Though you did miss someone getting tossed out for throwing a drunken temper tantrum.”

“Can’t say I’m sad I wasn’t here for that,” he said. As a server passed by, Azriel flagged him down. “A tankard of ale, please.” He glanced at Elain with an eyebrow raised. 

“I’ll have another, as well.” 

The server returned moments later with two foaming tankards. 

He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow we should focus on finding the Autumn Court soldiers. My spies have not seen hide nor hair of them since they initially arrived in the city, so we’ll have to be strategic about where to start. Especially since we’re leaving the day after next for the Night Court.”

“We’re going to the Night Court?” Elain asked.

“Yes. I thought I told you that?”

“You most certainly did not,” she said, rather miffed.

Azriel shrugged. “Sorry. But since Vassa and the others think you’re at the Night Court, word is bound to get back to Rhys and Feyre at some point. We have to make an appearance to cover all our bases. Besides, there is going to be an Inner Circle meeting, and since it’s been a few months since you’ve attended, it’s necessary for us to be there.”

Instead of replying, she took a deep swig of her ale. It made sense, of course, but she couldn’t help the sinking disappointment in her stomach. Visiting the Night Court meant one less day in Pentalos, one less day to figure out what the hell was going on with the Autumn Court…one less day alone with Azriel. 

When she met his eyes again, he was looking at her concernedly. “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. It was an honest mistake.” 

It never failed to amuse her how he noticed so much but could be so oblivious at times. Amused her…and frustrated her in equal measure.

“Don’t worry about it,” Elain said, keeping her tone breezy and unbothered. She downed the rest of her drink as Azriel did the same. 

“Another round?” The server asked.

“Yes,” they both answered together. As the server set down two full pints, Azriel lifted his in mock salute. “To Pentalos,” Azriel said, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“To Pentalos,” Elain responded, clinking her glass against his own. The ale in Pentalos must have been stronger than that in the Night Court, because even though it was only her third glass, she was feeling rather tipsy. By the topaz sheen of Azriel’s skin, it was obvious he was feeling the effects, as well. 

They continued sipping and talking, the volume growing louder as their laughs grew more frequent. Eventually they started giving toasts again, each more ridiculous than the last. 

“To beaches!”

“To chocolate chip cookies!” 

“To fried toads!”

“To toasts,” he laughed.

“To sharing a bed,” she said coyly. A deep blush immediately spread across Azriel’s arched cheekbones. 

He cleared his throat and glanced at the moon through the dining hall window. “It’s later than I thought. Ready to head upstairs?”

She stood, a little unsteady on her feet. Slowly but surely, she began to walk toward the stairs, but was stopped in her tracks when a clammy hand reached out and grabbed her waist. 

“Well aren’t you the prettiest little miss I’ve seen all day,” a voice drawled. The speaker was a short, scrubby male sitting at a table near the stairwell. Yellow, droopy eyes ogled her excitedly. The smell of drink and sweat emanating from him was nearly sickening. 

“Take your hands off her.” Even before Azriel spoke, Elain felt his presence at her back. The male dropped his hand immediately. She nearly giggled at the male’s sudden change in demeanor, at the fearful scent he began to exude. An idea struck her. She reached back and grabbed Azriel’s hand. 

“The next time you lay a hand on me will be the last time you have hands,” she said coldly. “My husband will make sure of it.” The only sign of surprise Azriel gave was a slight flex of his fingers.

The male dipped his head. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” 

Elain nodded imperiously and, still clutching Azriel’s hand, led him up the stairs.

“You nearly made him piss his pants,” she whispered gleefully.

Azriel chuckled. “That was all you, actually. I didn’t need to do anything.” 

Her legs decided to stop working then. Azriel caught her before she fell and wrapped an arm around her waist, his steady warmth and support better than any crutch.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“Only a little,” she said seriously, but then let out another giggle. She was pleased to see Azriel smile widely at her in response. His hazel eyes sparkled with unrepressed mirth, the likes of which Elain had hardly, if ever, seen before. As they looked at each other, it struck her how quiet it had become in the inn.

The fire crackled merrily as they entered their (their!) room. One of the maids had laid out their wet clothes to dry. Elain’s head buzzed pleasantly as she moved forward and sat on the edge of the bed. With some effort, she unlaced her boots and then shrugged off her dress. Clad in only a shift and smallclothes, she released her hair from its braid, sighing contentedly. 

She looked up then. Azriel was still standing by the door. He had not moved an inch.

“Elain,” he said, his voice deep and grating. The flames reflected in his eyes made him look almost sinister, but the shudder that went through Elain had nothing to do with fear. 

“Yes?” She asked. 

He looked at her a moment longer. It suddenly struck her how sheer her shift was, especially in the fiery glow. 

Azriel cleared his throat and broke the gaze. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, kicking off his boots and quickly unbuttoning his shirt. Before she could even reply (or enjoy the view of his bare chest), he sent a gust of cerulean-tinted wind toward the fire; it was extinguished a second later. 

“This is ridiculous,” she said after a few minutes of silence, sitting up. From the moonlight pouring through the window, she could see the outline of him lying on the floor, arms crossed behind his head. “Why are you sleeping on the floor when there is a nice bed right here?”

“It’s too small for both of us,” he muttered from the darkness.

“There’s plenty of room.”

“I’m alright, really.”

She scowled. “Fine. Then I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed, if there’s only room for one of us.”

“Absolutely not.”

Stupid, unresonable Fae males. 

“Will you just get your stubborn ass in bed so I can get a good night's sleep?” She snapped and turned over, pulling the covers up to her chin. A moment later, she heard the creaking of floorboards as he rose and made his way over to the bed.

“Has anyone ever told you how pushy you are?” he asked dryly, lifting up the covers and sliding underneath. The mattress sagged slightly with his added weight.

“At least I’m not five centuries old but acting like I’m five,” Elain retorted.

Silence washed over them. She had to force herself to keep her breathing steady as her body reacted to his sudden presence, warming every molecule under her skin. 

“Do you have enough room?” He murmured. 

“Yes.” 

Silence again. It really was quiet in this inn; the rain slapping against the roof and windows had eased considerably. It was certainly not loud enough to drown out the sound of Azriel’s racing heart. And she knew, without a doubt, that if she could hear his heart, he could hear hers. 

Bravery and desire filled her in equal parts, as vital as air. She rolled over so she was facing him, nearly nose to nose. Oh gods, she’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His skin appeared almost silver in the pearly moonlight. His wings draped off the mattress, so long the tips dragged on the floor. She squeezed her legs together tightly at the sight. 

“Do you have enough room?” She asked, her chest brushing against his ever so slightly. 

He inhaled sharply. “I’m just fine,” he finally replied, his voice strangled. His eyes latched onto hers, and the intensity of his gaze sparked something in her. Summoning all her courage, she lifted a shaky hand and ran it through his hair. Gods, it was so soft, so at odds with the hardened warrior beside her.

For a moment, Azriel remained frozen. Embarrassment crept up behind her; maybe she had read the signs wrong, and he did not desire her at all? But then he raised a tentative hand, resting it on her waist. She couldn’t even blame the alcohol for the breathy moan she let out.

He groaned. “Elain,” he said, and she thought her heart might stop at the sinful way her name slipped off his tongue. “You’re killing me.”

Her core went molten. She wanted him, badly, so badly, maybe more than she’d ever wanted anyone. Anything. So what if they were just friends? Like Vassa said, sometimes sex was best when it was between friends. When it was just two people who cared about each other and who were attracted to each other. And although there were many things about Azriel she was unsure about (he was, after all, the best secret-keeper she knew), she knew this for certain: he desired her. 

The Old Elain wouldn’t have been okay with casual sex, especially with him. But the aching desire inside of her had grown nearly unbearable these past few months, and she was so tired of wanting more. Of needing more. 

“You’re killing me, too,” she admitted in a whisper. And because she was already in this deep, she pressed herself flush against him and wrapped a thigh around his waist.

“Fuck,” he rasped. Wetness coated the inside of her thighs. She wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel the dampness, even through his pants. She moved her hand downward, ghosting over his broad shoulders, coming to rest on a well-defined pec. His heart thundered against her palm. The hand cupping her waist tightened suddenly as his whole body shuddered. And then, so slowly, his hand began sliding up the curve of her waist, over the side of her stomach, grazing her breast. 

“Yes,” she breathed. “More,” she pleaded, every nerve in her body sizzling with anticipation. His hips bucked forward slightly, and his hardened manhood pushed against her center. They moaned in tandem. He shivered again and cupped her face. Ran a calloused thumb lightly over her cheek. 

“So soft,” he murmured, almost to himself. Their mouths were so close she could feel the warmth from his breath as he spoke. She let out a whimper and, unable to resist the desire any longer, leaned forward to press her lips to his.

But quicker than she could comprehend, Azriel pulled back, putting distance between them. He was panting heavily, his hands over his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Oh gods, Elain, I’m sorry, but I just…we can’t.” 

Elain swallowed down the lump in her throat. Blinked back her tears. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have…it’s okay. Really.” He didn’t reply, but that was fine with her. She wasn’t okay, and she didn’t know if she could bring herself to lie again. 

She turned over to face the wall, her back to Azriel. Buried her face into the pillow and tried to steady her breathing. In the span of a few seconds, her desire had morphed into shame, and now…now it was becoming something raw and ruinous and hateful. How many more times would she make the same mistake?

So she choked back the scream that crawled up the lining of her throat, scratching and clawing and begging to be released: Not enough.

***

Elain woke the next day to the sun shining merrily through the dusty window like it had never left. 

Sun or no sun, this day was bound to be awful. Nausea bubbled in her stomach, no doubt from the multiple pints she’d consumed the previous evening, as well as the sickening regret that she couldn’t repress. What was she thinking last night, trying to make a move on Azriel? She cringed inwardly at the memory. 

You’re killing me, too.

Touch me. 

She put a pillow over my head and groaned loudly. Then she groaned again, because the reverberations of her loud groan made her head hurt even worse.

Thankfully, Azriel wasn’t in bed next to her. A small miracle, she supposed, but she’d have to face him sooner rather than later. They still had a mission to complete. At least today would be entirely dedicated to locating the Autumn Court soldiers. Yesterday she’d let herself get too distracted by the wonders of Pentalos (and by he-who-must-not-be-thought-of-in-that-way-ever

-again-for-obvious-reasons). Whatever embarrassment and shame she felt would need to be shoved down and dealt with later. She had more important things to worry about.

A knock on the door sent her sitting straight up, frantically patting down her tangled, no-doubt-atrocious hair. 

“Come in,” she croaked out. A sigh of relief escaped her throat as a maid entered the room; despite her newfound positive attitude, she wasn’t ready to see him just yet, certainly not when she resembled something close to a Walker.

“Good morning, Miss,” the maid said cheerily. “Or should I say afternoon? You’ve slept a good deal of the morning away! Your husband sent me up here to wake you. He’s waiting in the dining hall for you.”

“Oh. Okay, thank you. Tell him I’ll be right down.”

“He’s a looker, isn’t he?” The maid continued. “Even with those strange shadows that always seem to follow him. You’re a lucky lady,” she winked.

“Oh, yes,” Elain said hollowly. “Very lucky.”

She took longer than usual getting ready. She didn’t put more effort into her appearance or anything; she just took her sweet time, hoping the extra minutes would quell the nerves swimming circles in her belly. Finally feeling ready to face him, she took a deep breath and made her way downstairs. 

Azriel was at the same table they’d sat at the evening before, a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal in front of him, apparently lost in thought. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Oh. Good morning.”

“Good morning.” 

He opened his mouth and then closed it again, averting his eyes from hers. She shifted awkwardly. 

“What is the plan for today?” She asked, making the decision that the best thing to do would be to pretend last night did not happen at all. Was it the healthiest choice? Certainly not. Was she going to do it anyway? Absolutely.

“I’ve mapped out a few places where the Autumn Court soldiers are likely to be stationed,” Azriel said, a flicker of relief in his eyes. It seemed he was on board with ignoring the uncomfortable issue, as well. A shadow pulled a map from the small knapsack at his back and spread it out on the table. 

“Here, here, and here are the most likely locations,” Azriel said, pointing at the map. 

She frowned. “Those are all very desolate locations. Nowhere near the trading market.”

“Exactly. A legion of foreign soldiers would stick out like a sore thumb in highly-populated areas like the trading market. It would be much smarter to be based somewhere less busy.”

“I suppose,” Elain said slowly. “But in my vision, I didn’t see,” she glanced down at the map, “Nesryine Mountain or Sartaqi’s Cove. I saw the trading market and all the shops and establishments surrounding it.” 

“We spent all day at the trading market yesterday, and we didn’t see hide nor hair of the Autumn Court,” he argued. “We need to try a different approach.”

“Alright.” 

He blinked. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily.“

Elain shrugged. “Like you told me before we left, you’re in charge. Whatever decision you make, I can do nothing but follow it.” She hadn’t meant for her words to contain such double meaning.

A server brought over her oatmeal a moment later, and she devoured it eagerly, thankful for the distraction. She wasn’t sure she could look at the pity on Azriel’s face.

***

“Okay,” Elain panted. “I shouldn’t have agreed so easily. This was the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.” 

They stood on a ledge halfway up Nesyrine Mountain, the tallest point in Pentalos. At first, Azriel had done an overhead sweep looking for any sign of the Autumn Court soldiers, but to no avail. He then decided that it was possible they were sequestered in a hidden cave built into the side of the mountain, so for the past four hours, they’d climbed and climbed and climbed, in search of a secret cave that Elain was quite certain did not exist at all.

Azriel scowled. “I didn’t hear you come up with any better ideas.”

“That’s because you didn’t ask me,” she snapped back, leaning against the rocky mountain wall, trying to catch her breath. Azriel had offered to let her stay at the inn—“It will be tedious work, climbing the mountain”—but Elain had insisted on going. She was a part of the team, and a powerful Fae, after all; what was a mountain against her immortal strength? 

She sank to the ground and put her head between her knees. Clearly, she had overestimated her endurance.

“Are you okay over there?” Azriel asked. If he was trying to hide the amusement in his voice, he was doing an awful job. 

“I just need a minute,” she wheezed back. 

He chuckled. A few seconds later, she felt him sit next to her. When her breathing finally returned to normal, she lifted her head.

“I’ll say it. I don’t think there is a secret cave on this mountain.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I can’t think of where else they would be.” They’d spent the first part of the day searching the other two locations Azriel had pinpointed on the map but hadn’t been successful. And now the sun was beginning to set; night would be upon them soon, and their searching efforts would be rendered much more difficult…and dangerous. 

“I think we’re going about this the wrong way,” Elain said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, instead of looking for the entirety of the legion, we should look for just one soldier. Then we can either follow him or coerce him into telling us where the others are stationed and why they’re here in the first place.”

“Not a bad idea,” Azriel said, “But we haven’t seen a single Autumn Court soldier since our arrival.”

“Maybe we’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

Azriel cocked up an eyebrow. “And where would you suggest we look?”

Elain grinned.

***

“There’s no way in hell I’m taking you in there.” 

He and Elain stood outside a dingy pub on the far outskirts of the trading market, nearly to the other end of the island. Even though they were positioned a good distance away from the pub, hiding in a groove of thick-leafed trees, the sound of revelry within the establishment was incredibly loud. Upbeat music, scattered laughter and incessant chattering poured from the open windows.

A mass of golden-brown hair flicked him in the face as Elain turned sharply to face him.

“Why ever not?” She frowned. 

He began counting his fingers as he listed his reasons. “First, you have no defense training, and in a place like this, you’ll no doubt need to defend yourself from a plethora of criminals and creeps. Two, we have no idea if an Autumn Court soldier is even here, so why should we risk it? And three, because I said so.”

Elain merely jutted out her chin defiantly and faced the entrance to the pub once more. A second later, her eyes lit up. 

“Ha!” She whispered in triumph. “Look!”

She pointed to a male entering the pub. With his crimson hair and bronze armor, he was unmistakably a soldier from the Autumn Court. Azriel sent a shadow immediately after him. He was about to make up some excuse to Elain, convince her it would really be safer to stay in the trees while he went and investigated—though was that really safer? He wasn’t sure. Before he could decide which course of action to take, she threaded her arm through his and tugged him forward.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. 

“Spending a lovely evening out with my husband,” she crooned, eyes bright with amusement and adrenaline. She lowered her voice. “Don’t you worry your little shadowed-head. I’ll be just fine.”

He scowled but stopped trying to resist. 

When they entered the pub, Azriel was immediately struck with how crowded it was. He and Elain could barely stand side by side without touching at least three other patrons. Azriel had never liked touching other people, especially strangers.

“Here,” he muttered, grabbing Elain’s hand and pulling her toward a less-crowded, darkened corner near the bartop. He let go of her hand quickly; after last night, he wasn’t sure how much he should touch her. Just thinking about the previous evening sent a bolt of lightening through his soul. If such a scenario were to ever arise again, he wasn’t sure he would be able to resist. Scratch that. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

A moment later, his shadow returned to him. The other side, his shadow whispered. Sure enough, directly opposite the corner they stood in, the Autumn Court soldier was sitting in a booth, a shot of what looked like scotch in front of him. He nudged Elain and pointed covertly.

Elain saw the soldier and cocked her head to the side, thinking. She chewed on her lip for a moment and then held out a hand.

“Give me Truth-Teller.”

“What?” Never in his 500 years of life had someone spoken to him with such demand. And about his most prized and feared possession, no less! 

She rolled her eyes. “Just give it to me. I’ll give it right back, I promise.” Even in her obvious impatience she was fucking polite.

Azriel slowly pulled the dagger from its sheath and handed it to Elain. He had no idea what she wanted with it, none at all. But when Elain took Truth-Teller and cut a slit in her dress, slicing the fabric all the way up to her thigh, he found himself absolutely speechless. When she used it again on the laces of her gown, revealing just a tantalizing hint of her chest…he genuinely felt a bit faint. 

She marked his reaction with a cocky grin, placing the dagger in his limply-outstretched palm. 

“Wait here.” And then she strode off into the crowd. 

His shock wore off a few seconds later, but it was too late to do anything: she had disappeared among the other patrons. Tall as he was, he could see over the many heads, all the way to the booth in the far corner of the bar. The booth that the Autumn Court soldier sat in. The booth to where Elain now headed, a tray in one hand and a pint of beer in the other (how she got those, and so quickly, he had no idea), swaying her goddamn hips like he’d never seen her do before, accentuating the sinful slope of her tiny waist to her beautiful, round—

Gods above, he needed to focus. And pay attention to his shadows, one of which was trailing closely after Elain, listening to her every word.

“Did you order a pint of ale, sir?” Her voice was higher than usual, simpering and girlish. 

When the Autumn Court soldier saw who his new “waitress” was, he grinned so wide Azriel had to pull his shadows in tight to hide his glowing siphons.

“Nay, I didn’t,” he said, eyes shining with cruel intention, “But I will gladly take one if it’s coming from a sweetie like you.”

Elain ducked her chin and blushed hard. “Oh, you’re too kind.”

“Why don’t you sit down with me for a moment, take a quick break? I could use the company.” He gestured to the empty seats around him. 

“Oh, sir, I couldn’t possibly, I’m in the middle of a shift—”

“It won’t be but two minutes, sweet thing.”

She turned around slightly, as if checking for a draconian superior watching over her every move. As she did so, her eyes met Azriel’s briefly, and he barely had time to shake his head no when she turned back around and sat in the booth.

“Well, as long as it’s just two minutes.” Now her voice was smoky, lower, hushed, like they shared a secret, something sweet and sacred just between them. The generous slit in her dress slipped slightly as she crossed her legs, revealing her creamy thighs.

 Azriel bit so hard on his tongue he tasted blood. Gods, she was good.

“What brings you to the lovely city of Pentalos? A strong, brave male like you...you must be a soldier.” Elain smiled sweetly at the male, who swallowed up her charade like Azriel had  dreamed of her swallowing his seed so many times before. The fantasy brought a slight grin to his face even as the territorial beast in his belly roared. 

Flexing his arms slightly, the Autumn Court male replied, “Ah, smart, sweet and pretty. You really are the whole package, aren’t you, sweetie?” 

Lowering her eyes demurely, Elain said, “I’m only honest.” Azriel nearly laughed out loud at the irony.

“Aye, that too.” The soldier said, dumb and oblivious and as easily charmed as Azriel expected him to be. So had Elain, it seemed, since she had so clearly honed in on his weak defenses and was now working him quicker than a duck goes to water.

When she looked up at the male from under her lashes, batting them seductively, Azriel’s blood boiled. It’s just a mission, it’s all for show, he told himself. But Elain was a fantastic actress, as apt for the art of espionage as he. It was hard to remember it was all an act when his instincts urged him to rip the male apart limb by limb. 

“So I was right? You’re a soldier?” 

“Indeed. Just here for a short time, I’m afraid. Though now that I’ve made your company, I’ll admit I’m hoping my stay might be extended a bit.” The soldier reached out a hand and stroked lightly up her arm. Gritting his teeth, Azriel sent another shadow to Elain. He watched as it slithered across the floor, unnoticed by any patron in the rowdy, dimly-lit bar. When it curled around Elain’s ear, she tilted her head slightly to the side to show she was listening. 

Hurry this up. Azriel hoped the shadow adequately conveyed how serious he was. He didn’t know how much longer he could control himself.

Instead of expressing any sense of urgency, though, Elain merely smiled coyly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, covertly shooing the shadow away. 

Azriel scowled. 

“Well, I certainly hope you’re here for a while longer,” she purred. “I have to get back to work, but…” she paused and readjusted her position, baring her leg even more. “Perhaps we could finish this conversation back at your place? Just tell me where you’re staying, and I’ll find you as soon as my shift ends.” 

When she leaned forward slightly, her elbows squeezed around her bodice and pushed her cleavage together. The male’s pupils became so wide his golden eyes were nearly black. Elain had the Autumn Court soldier eating out of her fucking hand, had him hook, line and sinker. And as Azriel stared at her chest, he almost couldn’t blame the male. 

But then the soldier said, “I don’t mind waiting till you get off your shift, sweet thing. You get back to work. But first, I think I need to taste that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Before the soldier could do more than lean forward a few inches, Azriel was there, appearing out of his shadows and pounding the male on the back of the head with the hilt of Truth-Teller. In an instant, the soldier fell into the booth, motionless.

“Azriel!” Elain whisper-screamed. The whole incident had gone unnoticed by the rest of the bar; Azriel was that quick, that quiet. “You hurt him!”

“He’s fine, just knocked out.” Azriel looked down disdainfully at the unconscious male. In one smooth motion, he tucked Truth-Teller away, unsure why he wasn’t able to meet Elain’s eyes.

“Why would you do that?” She demanded.

Azriel scoffed. “He was done being useful.” 

She huffed and stormed away, throwing open the door to the bar. A cold breeze lingered in her wake. Azriel followed, feeling rather nervous.

By the time he’d exited the bar, Elain was halfway down the cobblestone street. He stepped into his shadows and appeared at her side.

“Slow down, will you?”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice was cold.

Exhaling frustratedly, he gathered his shadows around him again, this time appearing directly in front of her, blocking her path.

“Elain, talk to me.”

“You interfered!” She burst out, throwing her dainty hands up. “I was handling him perfectly fine by myself, was this close to getting him to reveal a location, and then you had to go ruin it.”

“He wasn’t going to tell you his location. It was pointless.”

“You don’t know that! You don’t know what he was about to—”

“I know he was about to kiss you,” Azriel growled. 

“So? I can handle myself! I have been kissed before, believe it or not.”

They both sucked in a breath at the same time. Dangerous territory. 

She exhaled. “Azriel,” She said softly, and it was uncanny how his racing shadows immediately slowed at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth, “You undermined me. I was doing fine, I had a handle on it, but you took that away from me because you couldn’t handle it.”

Fuck.

“You’re right,” He said, after a beat. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t...I couldn’t stand it.”

“Stand what?”

“Him touching you,” Azriel growled. 

Elain stiffened. 

“Why?” She whispered.

After a long pause, he whispered, “You know why.”

Her face hardened. “Actually, I don’t. And that is not an answer to my question. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to tell me the truth. I understand that is far too much to ask of you.” She whipped around and started to walk away, but Azriel reached out and caught her wrist.

“I have never lied to you,” he swore.

“No. But you’ve never told me the whole truth, either,” she said, eyes bright with anger. 

Realizing he was still holding on to her wrist, he quickly dropped it and took a step back. She was watching him warily, as if scared of what he would say next. He didn’t want her to be scared of him. All he wanted was for her to trust him completely, even if he knew that was asking too much of her. Of anyone.

“I would never lie to you.” 

“Is that so?” She asked, her voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. “Then answer this. Why didn’t you kiss me on Solstice? Why didn’t you kiss me last night?” She took a step closer. “Why are you pretending you don’t want me when we both know you do?” Another step. She was so close he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. “Why are you still trying to deny it, even now?”

Azriel gaped at her, frozen in shock at her sudden questions. Even if there was a part of him that had always expected her to ask. Even if there was a part of him that had secretly hoped she would ask, that had always wanted her to know the truth of why he kept his distance. Because it was killing him slowly, her belief that he didn’t care about her. That he didn’t want her, every piece of her, tangled up with every piece of him. 

When he still remained silent, Elain let out a humorless laugh. “Of course. Well, don’t worry, Spymaster. I won’t be asking you again.” But as she turned away, he spoke.

“I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to kiss you so badly I could barely think straight. On Solstice, and last night, and many times before and between.”

Elain spun back around slowly, her doe eyes wider than usual. “That didn’t answer my question,” she said breathily. “Why didn’t you?”

Azriel closed his eyes. Rhys or Elain? 

Well. He’d already made his choice when he told her he’d never lie to her, right?

No. Truth be told, he’d made his choice long before he realized it himself.

“I was ordered not to.”

“What? By whom?” Elain asked confusedly. 

“Elain…”

Her eyes hardened. “Who,” she hissed. 

“Rhys. He saw us about to kiss on Solstice and...and he went into my head and told me to stop, and then called me to his office and told me I had to stay away from you.”

“Why?” Her face was shocked and disgusted.

“Because you have a mate from a rival court who we are on very thin ice with, who has the ability to invoke a blood duel over you, and who also holds much sway with our other allies. In Rhys’ eyes, angering Lucien and potentially losing him as an emissary and ally was too much to risk.”

Elain took a step back, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “He interfered because of politics?” 

Azriel blew out a breath. “It sounds worse when you put it like that. Rhys was just doing what he thought was best for the Court.” He wasn’t sure why, after all these months of resentment, he was defending Rhys.

“But it’s the truth,” she murmured. “And I was just…left in the dark. Left alone. Not important enough, not even to make my own decisions. As always.” She swallowed heavily, and he knew she was trying not to cry, knew she wasn’t really talking to him, not anymore. Her eyes went foggy like they sometimes did before a vision, when she lost control of her emotions. Azriel instinctively reached out a hand to steady her but she snapped out of it quickly. 

“Does Feyre know?”

Albeit taken aback by the random question, Azriel replied,“I doubt it.” 

She nodded, like she already suspected that answer. “And Nesta?” 

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that even more.”

She nodded again. “Take me home.”

“To Velaris?” Azriel wasn’t sure he wanted Elain to see Rhys right now. She looked so much like Nesta right now he was rather frightened of what she’d do. 

“No. To the Mortal Manor.” 

He hesitated. “We can’t. We’re supposed to be in the Night Court, remember? We can’t just show up to the Mortal Manor in the middle of the night unannounced.” 

“Then take me back to the godsdamned inn.” Her voice was so expressionless his heart broke a little, but he did what she wanted (he would always try to do what she wanted from here on out) and shadow-traveled them both to the inn.

The second he set her on her feet, she moved, crossing quickly to the other side of the room. She kept her back to him but her head held high.

“Elain…” Azriel said hesitantly. 

“Please. Just leave me alone.”

“Are you mad at me?” 

She didn’t say anything. 

“Elain, I didn’t have a choice.” 

She turned to him then, and there were no tears in her eyes, no pitiful sadness. Just raw and righteous anger.

“You did. You do. It is I who have never had a choice.” 

He had nothing to say to that. Nothing to offer her. No words of comfort or apology would ever make up for what he and Rhys had refused her: respect. 

“I need you to leave me alone.”

Azriel just nodded in response, his mind blank, his whole body numb. But he didn’t break his gaze from hers, not as he called his shadows to him and prepared to leave, because he deserved this. He deserved her disdain, because all she had ever asked of him was respect and honesty, and—

Perhaps there was something he could offer her, after all.

The truth.

He took a deep breath, summoning all his courage, and spoke.

“I have done a lot of things I regret. You know that. But I do not think I will ever regret anything more than the night of Solstice. I still picture it in my head, all the time.” He swallowed heavily, and he could feel his hands shaking ever so slightly, but he forced himself to continue. “What could have—what would have happened if I had just done what I wanted and kissed you.”

Elain was frozen in his gaze, as enraptured in that moment as he was. He kept going. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.

“I’ll always regret it, for so many reasons. Because I hurt you, both in the act and in the aftermath. Because I allowed someone else to make a decision for us that was not theirs to make.” He swallowed. “Because I will never get to taste those perfect lips of yours, will never get to hold you in my arms and show you how you deserve to be cared for. Even if all we were allowed was one night...it would have been worth it. To call you mine, just for a moment.” 

Her eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them. And a shameful, cowardly piece inside his soul wanted to run away at the sight of those eyes, of the vulnerable and poetic and fucking beautiful things she made him feel. But he made himself keep going, even if he was whispering, now. “If my choice mattered, I would choose you.” 

For a small moment, he thought he saw something like forgiveness flash in her eyes, but then it was gone, replaced instead by icy indifference. She turned her back to him once more. “You should go ask the innkeeper if any other rooms have opened up.”

And that was that. Azriel didn’t bother saying anything. He walked out the door, but didn’t go downstairs. Instead, he sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, his head in his hands, wishing he didn’t ruin everything he touched.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 6.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Asshole!Yoongi

A/N: As always, my loves @ppersonna, @ladyartemesia, @xjoonchildx consistently support me and make me feel better about how I’m writing. I’m so fucking grateful to them! I really wouldn’t be here without them and of course without all of you <3

Hospitals have always frightened you. They always smelled a little too much like cleaning supplies and for some odd reason they always had an underlying scent of sickness. Not that you could equate the smell of sickness to anything in particular-- but it just had that scent.

You can remember when your mother got her appendectomy and your dad told you to bring her doshirak while he went off to work, it scared the ever living hell out of you.

It's not that you were a hypochondriac or at least you didn't think you were. But now, as you stand beneath the large entrance to the VIP admittance area, your skin begins to crawl.

Maybe it’s the fear of entering the hospital and getting sick from others or maybe it’s the fact that you’ll be in a small space with the father of your child quite like that fateful night.

You hear a car quickly approaching behind you as you stare up at the gold trimmed sign of the entrance and you can practically feel him. You choose not to turn around, memories of your shopping trip still stuck in your mind like superglue.

Shopping with Yoongi was like a very failed, fucked up montage. You would try something on, come out of the dressing room and he would grimace and wave his hand while sipping champagne telling you to go put on something else.

Namjoon told you that he is a good person, and his life has been hard so being a dick is how he compensates. You want to believe him, but it’s just so hard.

“Little dove. Good morning,” you hear from behind you.

Angling your head to the voice, you take in his appearance. His black hair was combed back, a few odd hairs landing on his forehead. His eyes were fierce and piercing as always. And, his voice is as smooth as silk. For the first time, you notice two piercings on his left ear as he approaches. One is a small hoop made of diamonds and the other just a diamond stud. They look good on him, really fucking good.

“Hi.” you say, lifting your arm awkwardly to wave.

“You ready to see the Kisung heir?” he asks as he looks down at his Rolex.

Just the thought has a lump forming in your throat. Are you ready? This is all so fast and so fucked up.

“I think so,” you reply, earning half of a smirk from him.

“Let’s go up. We have other things to do today.” he tells you as he walks off to the entrance without you.

He makes you feel like such an intrusion. You really are a pauper in his lifestyle.

He holds the door open for you and you’re immediately hit with the smell that can only be akin to a hospital. It makes your stomach churn and suddenly you feel flush. Your skin prickles with heat, a thin layer of nervous sweat beginning to build up on your body.

Stopping at the entrance, you watch as nurses and doctors pass by without a second glance. The simple sight of scrubs and surgical caps is enough to have you leaning against the large potted plant that sits adjacent to the door.

Yoongi begins talking and the sound starts to drown out as you focus on the marble floor.

“Hey. Y/N.” you hear him call impatiently.

“Water,” you whisper softly as your vision begins to tunnel.

“Y/N?” he asks again, softer this time.

“I-I need water.” 

Your mouth is going dry and it’s starting to become hard to swallow.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the lip of the planter beside you to hold you steady.

“Oh fuck!” Yoongi yelps out, he catches your arm as you begin to fall.

“Can I get some water over here?!” he calls to the receptionist and they’re quick to do his bidding.

“I-I’m sorry,” you feel your eyelids getting heavy as you speak.

“Just relax. Calm down. What is it? Is it the kid?” he asks softly in your ear as he hauls you up. Tugging your arm just enough, he’s able to slide his body behind yours. You can feel the hard plains of his abs through his crisp shirt as he molds your body to his.

A receptionist rushes over with the bottle of water and he cracks it open quickly before handing it to you.

“Let’s sit down for a second. Come on,” he whispers in your ear.

Your feet feel as heavy as bricks while he pulls you over to the seating area. Tying your hair up in a ponytail, you lean back into the plush couch with a sigh.

“Drink the water.” he commands, his voice is gruff but the tone is riddled with nervousness.

You sip the water slowly, the spots in your eyes beginning to diminish as he puts his hand on your knee.

“Look at me, just focus on my face,” he calls, tapping his index finger beneath your chin.

Slowly turning your head to him, you can see his eyebrows furrowing with nerves. He cards his fingers through his hair as his thumb rubs gentle strokes on your knee.

“Is it...morning sickness?” he sounds uncomfortable even saying it. You feel uncomfortable hearing it.

You shake your head to him and that seems to make him relax just a bit.

“I have an irrational fear of hospitals,” you reply as your heartbeat begins to slow down. He tilts his head curiously and he wonders to himself what you’ve been through to get a panic attack quite like this.

Was it something that’s happened to you in the past? You seem to be scared of almost anything.

Usually, Yoongi would be annoyed at the mention of anything irrational. But, he fights it for once. For once, maybe he should be honest too.

“I’m afraid of hospitals too,” he admits to you.

“Really?” you ask as you press your hand to your stomach, the feeling of nausea slowly settling away.

His eyes flicker to your hand and he swallows uncomfortably. He turns his head to the large painting on the wall, he traces the abstract lines and shapes on the canvas before nodding.

“Yeah. It always smells weird and the thought of getting even more sick makes me nervous,” he says.

“Me too.” you murmur hopelessly as you look down at his hand on your knee.

“But, this hospital is really good. My family owns it. It’s one of three that we own in Seoul. You’re safe here. I promise,” he swears as he turns his attention back to you.

It’s almost comforting to hear his words. Right now, in this moment, it’s almost difficult to remember how much of an asshole he is.

“When you’re ready, we’ll go up,” he says softly.

His eyes drift over others in the lobby. They’re all staring. His hand rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck and you follow his gaze.

He shouldn’t be down here with you like this. He’s married. It hits you all in one second.

“Let’s go.” you tell him as you stand up on shaky legs.

“No, Y/N. Wait. Sit down and relax. It’s okay.” he calls to you, but you’re already off to the elevators.

He watches as you slam the button for the elevator, his hands slide over the knees of his pants before he’s standing up to follow you.

Maybe you weren’t a leech. Maybe you were just kind.

You hold the door open for him and he brushes past people without an apology before stepping into the elevator.

“You have a fear of elevators too?” he quips but his joke is brisk and it makes you scowl.

“No.” you murmur as he pushes the fifth floor button.

The silence is uncomfortable as the doors slide shut, the saxophone elevator music would be comical if your crippling embarrassment wasn’t beginning to swallow you whole. Now that your senses were returning to you, you just seized up as soon as you stepped inside the hospital.

You almost fell on the fucking floor like a flopping fish! How embarrassing!

Yoongi can practically sense your nervousness. He can see it in the way your knees knock together, and certainly how your hand grips the railing of the elevator. Your knuckles are practically white as you stare at the floor.

He should find a way to make you feel better, he thinks anyway.

“I like your dress. Looks not so homeless,” he says and he closes his eyes at how he sounds.

Maybe Maya is right, he needs to think before he speaks.

“Oh. Nice. Thanks.” you mutter as you pull at the fabric of the dress.

So much for trying.

“No. I mean-”

“I wear deliciously brown burlap sacks. I got it.” you retort as the doors open. He sighs to himself slightly as he watches you leave him alone in the elevator.

You walk off without him and he’s only a few steps behind but he feels as if he’s losing his ground.

Not only did he almost beat up Park Jimin at the mention of you, but now he’s starting to feel sorry for the things he says? Just what the hell is going on?

But, he can see a different personality almost peeking out of you every time he confronts you. It’s almost nice to see you being different then just nervous and scared.

“Oh! Mr. Min! Right on time, you can follow me!” a nurse calls to him from the reception desk.

“This is the VIP wing, only my family is taken care of up here,” he announces to you. You feel his hand press gently to your lower back and you pull away uncomfortably as you follow the nurse.

His hand feels too comfortable on your back for your liking.

The VIP room is gigantic, so far beyond what you originally had thought just a little while ago when you were downstairs.

The table with stirrups looks intimidating and uncomfortable.

“Just take off your underwear and the doctor will be right in,” the nurse says, her hand slides over Yoongi’s shoulder and you find yourself grimacing at how comfortable he is with it.

It’s like he doesn’t even register that to normal people, that would be uncomfortable.

“Thanks Mira.” he says as he folds his arms.

You watch the door shut and you shake your head in disbelief as he casually sits down in the chair beside the examination table.

“You fuck her too?” you ask him as he pulls out his phone.

“Just once. She wasn't into what I'm into,” he replies calmly and you roll your eyes.

Looking around for somewhere shielded to take off your underwear, his eyebrow quips up.

“I have seen all of you before, y’know. You can just take off your panties and give them to me,” he gives you a big smile as he holds his hand out and you scowl at the notion.

“Asshole.” you whisper, earning a chuckle from him as you walk into the bathroom.

Taking off your underwear, you stare at yourself in the mirror. This was just an out of body experience at this point. You were so far beyond the point of anything making sense. Your life has quite literally changed in a matter of weeks and today you’d be moving into a completely different home. You’d be seeing your child that was a surprise. Everything was moving so fast and it’s so terrifying.

You put your underwear in your purse, one that Yoongi has actually bought you instead of having to borrow Leenas.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch as he looks up from his phone, “Your room is ready. The kid’s too. Looks good.” He says as you walk over to the table.

You can only wonder what it looks like, did he buy cheaper things because he feels like that’s all you deserve? Or did he buy expensive furniture to really sell just how much money he actually has?

“I didn’t buy the kid furniture though. Thought you might want to do that. Maya said women go through something called nesting? Sounds like a bird,” he says as he looks back down at his phone.

He sounds really fond of Maya. You wonder what she must be like for him, the king of assholes, to be fond of her.

“Sounds fun!” you reply earnestly as you hop up on the table.

“Fun?”

You hum in agreement as you pull the dress down lower to your knees. “I think picking out furniture and stuff is fun. Leena let me pick out all of the furniture for the penthouse apartment. I like doing that stuff.”

He nods, his lips puffing out like he’s almost impressed before the door opens.

The white lab coat the doctor wears is almost enough to send you into a spiral once more but before your breathing can even hitch you hear the father of your child. “Drink your water. Now.” he calls to you.

He doesn't know where it came from but all he knew was that the water helped before and you should feel better with it. He seemed to get protective of you in that mere second.

“Min Yoongi. A pleasure,” the doctor says as they shake hands.

You practically chug the water, the cooling liquid seems to bring you a sense of peace as he approaches you.

“Y/N, I’m assuming. It’s so nice to meet you,” you shake his hand and out of the corner of your eye you watch Yoongi stand tall before taking his place beside you.

“Hold my hand,” he instructs briskly and you grimace at the thought. He rolls his eyes as he grasps your wrist before placing your hand in his.

You notice just how sweaty his hand is… or is it your hand that’s sweating? There’s moisture, for sure.

“Are you ready to see the Kisung heir? This must be exciting!” the doctor says as he sits down on the rolling stool before you.

Swallowing thickly, you give a small nod. Now, the nerves are really getting to you. Yoongi squeezes your hand tighter before looking down at his phone like this isn’t important to him. Or as if he was trying to avoid it.

“Okay, how are you feeling, Y/N? Any nausea? Tiredness?” the doctor asks as he puts on gloves.

“I’ve been really tired lately. Not so much nausea,” the doctor nods as he sets up the ultrasound equipment.

“Any breast tenderness? Are you in pain?” the question peaks Yoongi’s curiosity and he looks up from his phone to look at you as you nod.

“Yeah, they’re really painful,” you reply softly, almost embarrassed at the questions.

He had no idea. You hadn’t said anything about pain.

“That’s normal. Abdominal pain too? Getting mildly bad cramps?” you nod again and the father of your child blanches.

Jesus, you don’t make it seem like you’re going through a rough time. You really may just be stronger than you look.

Maybe this is what Maya meant about you going through a difficult time.

“So, the things you want to look out for are lightheadedness, cramps, very little vaginal bleeding, breast changes, food aversions, mood swings, and increased vaginal discharge,” you nod studiously as he grasps what looks like a wand in hand.

“You got all that, dad?” Yoongi’s eyes widen and he points to himself in confusion.

“Who? Me?” he asks aloud and you hide your smirk behind your hand as the doctor nods.

“Yeah, you. You got her into this mess, right?” yhe doctor jokes as he rolls a condom onto the end of the wand.

Yoongi scoffs gently. “Well it takes two to tango.” he mumbles to himself uncomfortably.

Your giggle makes him instantly relax. This isn’t the first time this has happened and it’s beginning to really freak him the fuck out. Sometimes, the things you do calm him so easily, set him into such a state of peace. It’s terrifying.

“This may be uncomfortable for you. I’m going to insert this and we’ll be able to see your baby,” the doctor says to you.

With a nod, you look at the black screen of the ultrasound machine. Yoongi buries his face farther into his phone at the mention of seeing his kid.

But, he’s pulled out almost instantaneously as you squeak out uncomfortably as the wand invades you. Your hand grips tighter in his and his eyes are on you in a second.

“You’re alright. Don’t worry,” he doesn’t know where the kind words came from but he doesn’t take them back.

The screen begins to shift to dark greys and whites, earning Yoongi’s attention.

“We may be able to hear a heartbeat, we’ll find out.” the doctor says happily.

You wriggle uncomfortably as the wand continues to invade you. Squeezing your hand a few times to try and set you right, Yoongi stares at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

“There!” the doctor says loudly and you both jump with nervousness as you see the small blip on the screen.

It’s so small.

You feel your throat clenching uncomfortably and you close your eyes for a second to make sure this is real.

For Yoongi, he feels his heart begin to beat faster. He can practically hear it in his ears as he squeezes your hand tighter.

This was his kid. He fucking made this. He has to become a parent to this small little thing.

“Oh my God.” he mumbles to himself, but in the large silent room you can hear him so clearly.

“Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat,” the doctor says before pushing a button on the machine.

The sound is voraciously loud in your ears. The heartbeat is strong and unwavering. It makes you smile. Although this isn’t what you had planned, it feels good to see your child.

Yoongi lets go of your hand quickly, as if you had burnt him. He pockets his phone and his hands before looking down at the ground uncomfortably.

“What do you think, dad?” the doctor asks him happily.

What the fuck does he think? That this is terrifying. That he made a child he has to take care of. He thinks that he’s not ready, at all!

But, it’s his child. That heartbeat -- he made that. He created something so small and so perfect.

His eyes begin to burn uncomfortably, as if he’s about to cry and he makes his way back to the seat before plopping down and taking in a deep breath.

“I think it looks like some sort of weird worm,” he replies to the doctor.

Snorting gently, you tilt your head at the screen.

“Like a sesame gremlin,” you say.

Just your words make him chuckle and he looks down at his shoes before closing his eyes once more.

“So the baby’s heartbeat is really strong which is great! From the size, it’s about five weeks and three days old. Everything looks great, but you’ll be coming back once a month to make sure things aren’t changing or getting out of hand. We’ll take a blood test now to see how your levels are but other than that, things look really good over here. Congratulations.” 

That was the first time either of you have been congratulated on the news.

Yoongi can feel himself filling with something akin to pride.

It almost makes him respect you more. You’re carrying his child.

Looking over at you, he feels as if he’s never actually looked at you before. He’s always known how beautiful you are. But now something feels different. It feels explosive. Like something cosmic was coming into being.

“I’m going to give you some prenatal vitamins for you to take, no smoking, no drinking, no raw fish, no hot tubs or saunas, you should eat really well, drink a lot of water and make sure you just take it easy,” the doctor says as he pulls the wand from you.

You can feel a weight lifting off of you as you look at your child. You certainly aren’t ready. You would never begin to call yourself ready but just seeing the child within you makes you hopeful.

“That’s it?” Yoongi asks the doctor, ripping his gaze away from you.

“That’s it! We’ll take the blood in another room near the elevator before you leave. I’ll get Mira to take her blood,” the doctor takes off his gloves and throws them in the garbage before clapping his hands finitely.

He helps you down from the examination table and you excuse yourself to the restroom suddenly feeling the urge to pee.

While he waits, Yoongi can’t stop staring at the screen. While the heartbeat isn’t loud in his ears any longer, the image of his child is still staring him dead in the face.

“Do you print those pictures?” he asks softly, looking over at the closed bathroom door.

“I can if you want me to.” the doctor replies as he sanitizes the examination table.

Yoongi nods at the thought. “Yeah. Can you print two sets?”

Waiting for the elevator, you squeeze your arm tightly trying to stop the blood flow from when Mira took your blood. She was eyeing Yoongi the whole time like a five star meal and it only got more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked on.

“Here.” the CEO says as he hands you a white envelope.

You look down at the package before tilting your head as you both get on to the elevator.

“What is it?” you ask as you open it up.

“The kid’s pictures. Thought you would want some of our sesame gremlin.” his voice sounds distant but you begin to smile at the small black and white photos before you.

“Did you get some for yourself?” you ask happily as you put the pictures in your purse.

He hits the button for the ground floor before leaning back against the railing of the elevator as it descends.

“Why would I need pictures of a five week old kid?” he retorts.

You shrug with a smirk before looking down into your purse and staring at the pictures.

His hand brushes the pocket of his suit pants, feeling his wallet that secretly holds the picture of your child.

The drive to Yoongi’s mansion sends butterflies fluttering around in your gut. This is like going to a new school in the middle of the year and being awkward and uncomfortable. The silence in the Rolls Royce apart from the random gusts of wind that come through the window don’t help either.

Yoongi is completely comfortable, his legs are outstretched as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder if there’s ever a time where he doesn’t look like he stepped right out of Time magazine.

“Oh, here.” he says as he pulls out a credit card before handing it to you.

You hold the black card in your hand for a second, the weight is as light as paper but just the notion feels heavy.

You throw the card into your purse without a second thought and you miss how Yoongi smirks at your actions.

“You’ll also have a driver. I picked out Minho. But, if you don’t like him then I can get someone else.” his voice is flippant. He’s probably used to firing a bunch of people without wondering about their home life and how much they need their jobs.

The car pulls up to the gated community which Yoongi lives in. Now, you too.

“Welcome to my home. Well...our home.” He says as the car drives past a large fountain that is spurting water on all sides.

You take in a bunch of large mansions as the car drives down the large stretch of road that is lined by pretty cherry blossom trees. Everything about this is so picturesque. You can imagine just how gorgeous his house must be.

“Wow!” your voice is above a whisper as you look off into the distance. You can see a few people riding horses in the far off distance.

“Namjoon’s wife loves horses. She breeds them for contests.” Yoongi states as he follows your gaze.

Leena has told you so much about high profile life, but actually being here surrounded by what feels like billions of dollars is jarring. It’s almost difficult to put into words.

Every stone, every tree, even the flowers seem like they’re perfectly placed as you continue to drive.

“Don’t go into Sera’s wing please. I don’t want to hear her bitch,” he grumbles as he puts his fist beneath his chin.

You give a small nod to him understanding before looking ahead as his mansion comes into view.

“You got knocked up by the right person, huh?” he chuckles as your mouth opens slightly at the sight.

The face of the house is enough to make someone weep, it’s all marble with black quarts trimming and large perfectly clean windows. Each piece of marble is perfectly cut and precise. It’s almost too beautiful to look at.

“I had an architect from Greece come out and build my home. I used to live in it alone until y’know, the demon came.” he says as the car drives around the large marble fountain in front.

“Jeez.” you whisper as he gets out of the car first.

You follow behind him not knowing where to look and wanting to look at all of it. The house spreads out wide and surrounding it are gorgeously cut hedges and tall growing flowers that look perfectly taken care of.

“So. The first two wings on the bottom floor are the gallery. Don’t fucking touch anything. There’s millions of dollars in paintings and statues.” Yoongi says as he steps up the black quartz stairs.

There’s even a man at the front to open up the double doors for him. Which is ridiculously posh and so completely out of your element. Your eyes gaze upward taking the whole house in and you swallow at the sight.

“Little dove, I really don’t have all day. Get your pert ass inside.” Yoongi calls to you as he enters without you.

You follow behind him clumsily, thanking the doorman who gives you a smile in return.

Stepping into the entryway, you can all but marvel at how gorgeous everything is. You do not belong here.

“It’s like a museum,” you whisper and you jump at how loud your voice is in the quiet area.

“Whenever I go out of the country, I like to pick up art or a statue. They’re collectors pieces. Do not fucking touch anything.” he warns you. 

Nodding quickly, you look down the large stretch of the front wings before following him as he continues into the house.

You'll definitely have to look at all of the beautiful art later.

His hands clasp behind his back and you grip tighter onto your purse afraid to touch anything.

None of this looks real, it’s so grandiose and so amazing that it feels like you’ve stepped into a movie.

“Both of these staircases lead up to either wing. Our wing is the right one.”

Walking past the staircases, you spot a sitting room filled with luxurious black furniture and so many throw pillows you have no idea how anyone would sit on them. They seem like they’ve never been touched before. A bar lines the wall behind it and your eyes widen at how fancy it looks. Mirrors line the back of the bar and the dark oak trimming really brings the room together.

“We don’t sit down here in the sitting room. It’s more for show. Doesn’t mean you can’t, it’s your house now too. But, you have your own living room upstairs in your room.” Yoongi says and you turn to him slowly as he leans against a carved marble pillar.

“I have a living room in my bedroom?” you ask softly to which he grins.

“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?” he quips with a chuckle.

You blanch at the thought before rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

“Come.” he commands as he pushes off the pillar.

“Holy shit.” you mumble as you walk further into the house.

The kitchen is fully open, with two marble islands and top of the range equipment that make you gasp. There’s a long bar lined with chairs that barricades the kitchen from you so you can eat and it makes you blink rapidly at the sight. You can see people working in it, keeping the place tidy and at the mere sight of Yoongi they bow deeply before returning back to work.

“We have a chef from five in the morning to twelve at night.” Yoongi tells you as he leans against the long bar.

The chandeliers that line the place are absolutely beautiful and yet again, you have no idea where to look.

“This is the dining room, where we don’t eat because it’s for parties and I don’t host parties. The leech does.” Yoongi says as he slides open two cherry wood doors beside the kitchen. The table is long and beautiful bouquets of flowers line the cherry wood top.

“Jesus Christ.” you whisper as you clutch the purse tighter to your body.

He closes up the doors before putting his hand on your lower back and pushing you past the kitchen.

“This door right here leads to the maid’s quarters. You don’t have any reason to go there.”

You nod to him as a maid opens up the door before bowing to you both and heading towards the kitchen.

“This is the library slash poker room. Thursday nights are for poker. It’s one of my hobbies.” he says as he grips the gold handles before shoving open the doors.

You’ve always loved reading, maybe in here you can find some good books and take them to your bedroom to read.

“Do you like reading?” he asks softly as you step inside.

“I love reading!” you reply as your fingers graze the marble bookshelves that line the walls from top to bottom.

You then realize how rude it was of you to just barge in and start touching stuff. “Sorry.” you murmur as Yoongi walks over to the bar caddy.

He pours himself a glass of whisky before shaking his head at you.

“This is your home now too. You don’t have to be scared, little dove.” he says above the lip of his glass before downing the contents in one burning go.

Your eyes spot a few books that look interesting and you make a mental note to check them out later when you’re settled in.

“Past this room is the game room. There’s a pool table and some old fashioned pinball machines. Stuff for decoration mostly.” 

It brings up a question that just bursts free from you.

“So you’re exorbitantly rich, you have all of these cool things inside of your home and you never use any of them?” you ask as he closes the library doors behind you.

“Well in order to be exorbitantly rich, you need to work hard. I don’t have time to just sit on my ass and play Pac Man all damn day, little dove.” he whispers in your ear. You blush at how insensitive it must have sounded.

“Through those glass doors is the indoor pool. It’s heated but not too hot for the baby,” he tells you as a maid opens the doors for you both.

He comes to realize that was the first time he hasn’t called your child ‘kid’ or ‘thing’ around you.

Maybe seeing the small sesame gremlin on the screen really did do something to him.

“Wow. This is amazing Yoongi. Your parents must be so proud of you.” you say as you walk along the heated floor of the pool. He chuckles to himself as you look at the marble recliners that are for relaxing on the side.

“Parents.” he snort at the notion.

He tilts his head cryptically as you look out the glass walls of the room. It’s almost as if you’re in a snow globe. Every wall is glass, there’s some stained glass pieces that fleck the floor with pretty colors as the sun comes out from behind a cloud.

“Shall we go up to our win-” his voice is cut off by screaming in the distance and you jump at the screeching noise.

“That’s the leech. She probably lost a follower on Instagram.” he says as his hand wraps around your arm before tugging you toward the noise.

While you haven’t been fully versed in just how evil Sera is, you’re positively nervous to see her. Leena told you to look her up on the Internet but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were too frightened for what you would find.

“Sir!” the voice is absolutely elated and so sweet sounding that it puts a small smile on your face.

Yoongi positively lights up as an older woman approaches the both of you from the maid’s quarters. Her hair is in a neat bun and her clothes are wrinkle free. She seems a bit older and has a tan to her skin as if she’s been out in the sun working.

“Y/N. This is Maya. Head maid.” you shake her hand happily as Yoongi begins to smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you! I've heard amazing things about you!” you say happily as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Well! Aren’t you just absolutely gorgeous! Welcome to the home Madam, I’m so happy to be of service to you!” Her words are so kind and she’s so sweet but it’s the intent of the words that make you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh, Maya. No. You can call me Y/N. You don’t have to treat me like Yo-”

“Nonsense! You’re a big part of the home just as much as the other two that live here! Don’t be silly!” you hum uncomfortably as Yoongi snorts.

“Please be as kind to Maya as you possibly can. She’s an angel.” 

This is the first time that you’ve heard him speak so kindly about someone. It’s heartwarming, if you’re being honest.

“Let me take your purse.” Maya says softly, noticing how you clutch onto it for comfort.

“Oh no. It’s okay.”

“Give her the purse, little dove.” Yoongi retorts before snapping his fingers as you pass the kitchen.

“Yes, Sir?” a woman in the kitchen asks as he stops short.

“What do you like? Strawberry? Lemon?” he asks as he leans into the long marble bar.

“Both.” you reply curiously.

“Strawberry lemon sparkling water. And a vintage whisky. Now.” he calls out before turning back to you and Maya.

“Show Maya the pictures.” he says as his whisky is handed to him.

He must love her a lot. His demeanor seems to change when she’s around like no other.

Digging into your purse, you pull out the black and white pictures of your baby before handing them to her.

“Oh my goodness! Look at this! How amazing! With such a handsome father and a beautiful mother, your baby is going to be absolutely breathtaking!” Maya says and her voice seems to choke up as she stares at the picture. She turns thoughtful as her thumb swipes slowly over the picture in hand.

“I raised Yoongi from when he was very little, y’know.” Maya says proudly as she hands you back the pictures.

That’s news to you.

“Okay, Maya.” Yoongi mumbles uncomfortably.

“You did a great job,” you compliment her and her smile is megawatt as she rubs your arm comfortingly with her hand.

Yoongi smirks above the rim of his glass before tilting his head. Maybe you two would get along, you’re kind enough and Maya certainly is. Maybe there won’t be so much toxicity around the mansion anymore.

“Do you like to cook?” you ask her gently as Yoongi pulls the seat out of the bar for you to sit.

“I love cooking! Although Frederic is in the kitchen seven days a week, I hardly get to use it.” Maya says as she fixes Yoongi’s tie. 

You watch how well she takes care of him, how she babies him and how he doesn’t move or feel uncomfortable at the notion. It’s like watching a rabid dog be kind only to his owner.

“Maybe soon, we can get in the kitchen together. I love cooking too. Give Frederic the night off.” you offer with a smile.

The smile lines by her eyes crease in delight at your suggestion. “That would be a lot of fun. I’d love that.”

“I would get a night off? That sounds amazing to me.” you hear a heavy French accent behind you and you turn to the chef as he hands you your water. He winks at you with a smile and you return it before sipping your water.

“Wow!” you whisper at the taste.

“Everything is better in the higher class.” Yoongi whispers.

“MAYA!” You hear scream throughout the mansion and you cringe at the sharp noise.

Jesus, she is loud.

Everyone in this house is so nice and kind. Even if you feel uncomfortable living here, the people may make up for it.

“Yes, Madam?” Maya calls sweetly as her thin frame peeks down from the second floor.

Even from far away Sera is blindingly beautiful. Her cheekbones are high and filled perfectly, her lips are the perfect pout and her eyes are big and doe-like. She’s absolutely stunning.

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to put a different fabric softener in the laundry? I don’t like my clothes smelling like a fucking flower field!” She barks out as she throws something off of the marble balcony onto the floor.

“I’m sorry, Madam. I must have forgotten. I won’t forget again.” Maya promises as she scurries over to the dropped shirt.

It’s almost a sin to watch the sweet woman fumble over herself to please her. While she may be beautiful, she’s a bitch. And, you’d hate to be confronted by her by any means.

“Bitch.” you and Yoongi mumble at the same time. He chuckles to himself as her gaze lands on you and you find yourself wanting to cower but the way Maya shifts nervously makes you angry. Really fucking angry.

“What the fuck is that? A new maid? Or a dig ditcher?” Sera barks out as she points her perfectly manicured finger at you.

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I’m Y/N. The mother of Yoongi’s child.” you call to her.

Her face begins to flush pink before she’s scoffing. “Should have picked someone prettier Yoongi, ugly women make ugly kids!” she calls down to him as she retreats back to her wing.

“Ugly personalities make ugly people.” you retort softly, bringing your glass of water to your lips.

The father of your child chuckles softly beside you and your heart warms at the noise.

“That’s the leech. I’m sure you’re thrilled to have met her.” you hum playfully in agreement before hopping off the bar stool.

The only thing in Yoongi’s mind is just how right this all feels. How perfect you are as a person, to each and every person you see. You’re strong willed and stronger than he previously thought but he likes it. And, he wants to see you come out of your shell here. He wants to see you thrive like a flower.

Maybe he should ease up on being so downright negative around you.

“Let’s do the rest of the tour and then you can relax. Alright?” he asks as he guides you to the staircase.

“Madam!” Maya calls to you and you don’t register the word for a second before turning to her with a smile.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” Maya says sweetly and you giggle as she bows to you.

“Me too, Maya. Thank you for being so welcoming!” you reply happily as you ascend the steps with the CEO.

“One half is mine, the other half is yours. My side is the right side and yours is, well obviously, the left.” Yoongi says as his hand drifts over the black quartz wall.

At the end of the long wing, you can spot rushing waterfalls that come out of the walls and into the floor, the sound is comforting as you get closer.

“So the third floor of the mansion is for my hobbies in particular and my home office. I rarely use my home office but it’s up there if you ever need me and I work from home.” Hobbies? What kind of hobbies does he have?

“Taehyung told me that you like painting? Apparently Leena talks a lot about you in her post coital glow-” you laugh at his words as he swings the first door open, “- So I got you some painting supplies and turned this room into a studio for you. It’s really bright so you can work well.”

It’s so thoughtful. The studio is beautiful, canvases of all sizes line the walls and the amount of paints and brushes are almost too good to be true.

“Thank you, Yoongi. That’s so kind of you.” you say as you step into the room.

Your fingers gently graze over the fluffy heads of the brushes before turning to him in the doorway and smiling.

“I do love to paint.” you say happily as he leans against the door jamb with folded arms.

“I just won’t paint anything orange.” he rolls his eyes with a snort at your comment before pushing off of the doorway and moving on to the next room.

“This is your closet. I had all of your clothes moved in here, even the ones you insisted on bringing here. I’m a giver.” 

You roll your eyes at how degrading he is and you don’t even open the doors to your closet as you walk past.

You don’t care about materialistic objects like clothes or bags. You think the mansion is gorgeous but it’s just all materialistic stuff! It shouldn’t mean that much to someone.

“This is the nursery. It’s pretty empty still. Maya thought it would be a good idea to put in the rocking chair she used with me so...that’s in there.” 

The admission makes your eyebrows raise. She must have taken care of him from when he was so small. Maybe Maya is like his mother, that’s why he loves her so much.

“Then this room is your room,” he continues on, not wanting to stand in the nursery for longer than two minutes. Just looking into the room reminds him of the pictures that sit heavily in his wallet.

When you open the doors to your room, the wind is almost knocked out of you. This is not a room. This is a fucking house. A small living room and a television situate themselves before your eyes and you walk around the thin marble wall that shields your bedroom from view.

You have a balcony, sitting chairs, a fucking vanity and the bed is so gigantic it can probably hold four people comfortably with room to spare.

Even the sight of the en suite bathroom is enough to knock you on your ass.

“Jesus Christ. This is... Wow.” you say breathlessly as you sit down on your bed.

“Now do the finer objects in life hold weight?” Yoongi jokes as he sits down in the armchair by the balcony.

“Not everything is about money, Yoongi.” you retort as your hand skims over the plush black comforter.

“No. Not everything. But, it’s still nice.” he says as he lifts his whisky glass to his lips.

“There’s a television in the bench at the end of the bed.” he whispers loudly across the room to you.

“A...television in a bench?” you mutter pulling your legs off of the bench and onto the bed.

“Mmmhmmm.” he drolls with a chuckle.

You’re so absolutely stunned at all of this. This is where you live now. This is your home.

He can tell just how starry eyed you are by all of this. It must be overwhelming to be thrust into such money from out of nowhere.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” he says as he slaps his knee. Your mouth opens and your hand raises to wave goodbye but he doesn’t look back at you.

You look around your room once more taking in all of the new gadgets and toys before throwing yourself back on your bed. Your hair fans out around your head as you stare up at the silver chandelier above you.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble before turning and pressing your face into a pillow.

Next Chapter --->

Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebugg, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu​, 

Some people couldn’t be tagged, I’m so sorry about that!

[shirophantomvox]

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”