#just doing bullshit instead of finishing the commissions i have

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I decided not to finish and deliver commissioned artwork?

I owe a couple of people art pieces I started literal years ago, before my life fell apart completely. They were taken on as emergency commissions; unfortunately the scope of the emergency was far greater than I could handle even with some extra funds.

I was homeless (not unhoused, luckily, but living at a friend's illegally without a permanent address on paper, with no access to stable internet when I had internet at all), severely anxious and depressed, struggling to find work and pay off debts, and only recently got kind of stable again thanks to support from people I currently live with, though I have a move-out deadline coming up...

To make matters worse, in all the chaos of the last few years, I lost all the art I had actually managed to get done, and in one case also lost access to the original commission refsheets. I could ask again, but after a few years of radio silence (because aforementioned lack of stable internet and severe mental illness) I don't even know how to approach them about it.

Even if I did figure out a way to do talk to them, my life situation still isn't stable enough that I could guarantee finished work in the near future.

I think about it every day, and have stress dreams and procrastinate on sleeping and eating because I "need to work on those drawings instead of relaxing", but that usually just results in me being unable to do anything because I feel like I have to make their art pieces into things worth waiting years for, so it's this big daunting monster in my head...

On top of that, I have new injuries that make drawing difficult, and every time I think I'll have a few days to catch up with tasks, some new crisis or other slew of bullshit happens. I really just don't have time, and when I have time I don't have energy bc all my energy is tied up in looking for work and being anxious about where to even start making a magnum opus for each client that would make the absurd wait worth their whiles...which, of course, just makes the wait longer.

I do still have the PayPal invoices, and could offer refunds once I have enough money saved to do that. It doesn't seem very satisfactory, but I don't know what else to do that's guaranteed to get them something. WIBTA if I just saved up and gave them their money back in lieu of the art they paid for?

What are these acronyms?

[tokkishouse]

I do write for Aether c: I hope you like what I did for the prompt. It's a very unique one

(Sfw) Le Papillon

Characters: Aether x GN!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, reader has an anemo vision

WC: ~1k words

People will go on and on about how pretty butterflies are. The grace they represent. The beauty they display for all to see. They represent tranquility and calm. They're just magnificent.

Well, you're calling bullshit!

Butterflies are pretty, sure. But for you, all they represent is inconvenience. For as long as you can remember, you always had the ability to become a butterfly. Unlike Fischl though, who could control when she used Oz to fly and tactically evade attacks from enemies, your transformations were involuntary.

While you were sleeping, out walking by yourself, or sometimes while you were in the bathroom-- it was out of your control. Worst of all, you had no idea when you'd turn back to normal, meaning any future plans were horribly thrown out the window.

This translated into relationships you had as well. Suddenly no-showing to friends' engagements because you turned into a butterfly made some of them less eager to invite you out. Plans that you laid out months well in advance were suddenly foiled due to shrinking significantly and growing extra appendages.

Over the years, butterflies had grown to mean anything short of annoying. The only thing that hadn't been affected by this predicament was your relationship with Aether, your boyfriend. Life was nice enough that most outings or plans you had with him didn't need to be canceled because of your transformation. And if you did need to cancel? Aether coincidentally had a commission or task he needed to take care of. Everything always worked out.

Today changed that. You decided to accompany Aether on a commission today to clear out a hilichurl camp in Liyue. It was supposed to be straightforward-- show up, kick some butt, and leave.

But of course, right as you and Aether were going to kill the last Mitachurl, instead of finishing it off with a blast of anemo, you suddenly find yourself fluttering frantically in front of the beast. Just my fucking luck I'd turn in the middle of battle! you curse internally.

Both the mitachurl and Aether look at your butterfly form in confusion, temporarily stunned by the change of events. However, realizing this is not the time to falter, Aether quickly recovers and finishes off the mitachurl with a surprise attack. You flap your wings helplessly as your partner finishes cleaning out the hilichurl camp.

Once completed, Aether walks to a nearby tree, waving you over to follow him. You both stay under the cool shade of the tree in silence, and Aether watches your insect form with confusion and intrigue. His gaze eats at you, making you want to crawl into a cocoon and hide, and doubts begin to cloud your mind.

He's going to think this is weird and want to stop seeing me now. Who would want to date some weirdo that turns into a butterfly? you worry, your flapping speed increasing as you fall deeper into your despair.

"…I'll be honest. I've never seen something like this before. Is it a curse?" Aether asks, and you nearly fall out of the air in surprise. If you could, you give him an incredulous look. Realizing you wouldn't be able to communicate with him in this form, he changes gears.

"Let's go to my teapot and wait till you turn back. I won't get any answers if you're a butterfly," he decides, taking out the device from his bag.

✦✧✦✧

You didn't have to wait long to turn back-- as soon as you both entered the teapot, you reverted back to your normal form, much to your surprise. You fall flat on your butt as gravity works against your body, causing you to yelp in pain upon impact. Aether rushes to help you, but you quickly wave him off.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! Just wasn't prepared to turn human that fast," you grumble, slowly pushing yourself up.

You dust your clothes off and look up at Aether, who stands there awkwardly fidgeting with his fingers. You offer him a tired smile.

"I'll answer your first question: no, it's not a curse. It's just something I was born with. At random times, I'll turn into a butterfly. Quite inconvenient really," you explain. Aether furrows his eyebrows, taking on a pensive look before his face lights up as if he's made a breakthrough discovery.

"Like a cicin mage?" You throw him a cold glare, and he flinches.

"Never compare me to Fatui ever again," you hiss, and he nods aggressively, not wishing to invoke your wrath.

As you make your way into the house to properly unwind for the day, you go into detail about how you've lived with the predicament and how turbulent it's made your life. Getting everything off your chest was relieving. You never had the opportunity to share how you were feeling with anyone, and having these pent-up emotions made your animosity toward your abilities grow.

It helped that Aether was such an attentive listener. He didn't interrupt your explanations or make any judgemental comments. You could tell he was carefully wording his questions so as to not pick at any sore topics. By the end of it, you felt as if you both got closer.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," you apologize, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. "I don't know how you'd feel about dating a bug person." Aether laughs and gently nudges your shoulder.

"I've fought giant sea demon kings and the shogun's puppet. I've watched multiple harbingers turn into monstrous versions of themselves. You turning into a butterfly is nothing, y/n," he reasons. He pokes at your face, grinning. "Unless you turn into a giant butterfly monster. Then we have a different problem on our hands."

You laugh at this, the image of you as a giant butterfly laying waste to Teyvat inspiring amusement instead of fear.

"Don't worry, I don't think that'll happen any time soon," you assure him. His smile relaxes and he takes your hand.

"Then I don't care! And who knows, maybe we can find a way to control it? We can ask Ganyu or Xiao since they have animal forms, right?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I don't think the adepti would waste time on this, dear."

"It wouldn't hurt to ask now would it?" You hum in thought, looking out the window to take in the peaceful environment in the teapot's outdoors.

"S'pose not."

Tumblr was being a pain with the editor so I couldn't reply directly to the original ask.

Requests (both sfw and nsfw) are open~!

[griefabyss69]

Ample Fire Within

Hello everybody I hurt my feelings about Steve and so I've decided to inflict that on all of you as well <3

[AO3] [ Tip / Commissions post ]

Platonic Stobin - Rated: G - 1.7K

Angst with a happy ending It's short enough the full thing is under the cut!

"For all of the late night wishing on a star type of bullshit he does, when he's alone in the dark and doesn't even have to properly face himself, let alone anyone else, you'd think he'd be able to handle it when he finally gets what he wants."

You'd think that all of the near-death experiences and injuries and horrible secret knowledge they’d all had would make a group of people like, forthcoming about their feelings.

But when most of those people are hiding deeply under too many layers of irony, insecurity, and maybe an affected teenage distance, feelings come out in stupid little arguments and the decision to be as annoying as possible instead of like.

Talking about it.

The affection is just like that too – drenched in demands - and just like anything, Steve has to assume that being asked for shit means that someone somewhere cares about him.

If they need him, that means they'll think about him, remember him.

It means they won't leave and won't spit his feelings back in his face, drunk off of either expensive wine or spiked punch – he's since forgiven Nancy, and they're good friends, though she could never love him.

Forgiving his mom is something he thinks he'll get around to one day, if she ever gets around to deciding he exists again.

His dad is a lost cause, so he doesn't bother.

---

Robin's hand is tight around his, her nail polish alternating between a shimmery blue and a stark black. It works on her, makes her look cool in the way only she can be.

He studies the difference in their fingers, his nails are neatly trimmed out of habit, though the skin around them peels like he hasn't been taking care of the skin. Hers are doing pretty well, considering she's once again trying to fully kick the habit of biting them.

Despite how much smaller her hands are, he feels like the one who's protected, a bracing grip that keeps him grounded as some of his neighbors head out of the store, the sour feeling of being degraded by nothing but polite conversation about where he might go to school next year and “What are your parents up to these days?” sitting heavy in his guts.

"You want to pick the movie?" Robin asks, adding her other hand into the mix, squeezing his tightly.

He shakes his head, can't stomach the thought of having an opinion on anything right now, on being some kind of real boy who has to make a decision harder than breathe in – good – now breathe out.

She lets go of him to go wander around the shelves, and he misses the comfort deeply, but doesn't say anything about it because he needs to find a way to earn the next one, this one finished with it’s job even if it’s prematurely. He’ll find the next emotional punch he can take and will hope it makes someone notice he could use a hug or something.

He wants to think he's got people in his life now that notice him at least some of the time, really notice him, not like before when he'd sat concussed through his exams and managed to pass because the teachers didn't want to face down the wrath of Harrington Sr.

He tries not to mope, tries to shake everything off, and goes to poke fun at Robin for whatever movie she picked.

---

For all of the late night wishing on a star type of bullshit he does, when he's alone in the dark and doesn't even have to properly face himself, let alone anyone else, you'd think he'd be able to handle it when he finally gets what he wants.

But maybe it's the unexpected timing, or just the way he didn't think they'd ever be those people – but when Robin hugs him goodbye one night, the last one out of the house as Nancy waits up outside to take her home, she murmurs a quiet "Love you" into his shoulder and he only manages to hold himself together by a fucking hair until the door is shut behind her.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that it would make him crumple to the floor beside the neat rack of shoes he never wears, but he finds himself flat on his ass with his forehead on his knees like someone's packing him away in a box.

Ugly tears already brimming and spilling down his face as his throat closes up around what might just be a banshee's wail.

He knows he's supposed to be happy, and he knows there's a part of him that is, but the rest of him is just hurt – there’s an empty hole that had dug through him until it had grown into a deep well of loneliness, and every little offering of care and attention and love drowns in it.

About thirty minutes and a big pounding headache later, his phone rings, and his voice is rough when he picks up.

"Steve," Robin gasps, out of breath like she'd run to the phone. "What's wrong?"

He frowns, wondering if he sounds that bad.

"Nothing, why?"

"Oh, you just sound… And I'd thought – I just had a feeling in the car and then it got worse and I got worried and I'm sorry I'm sure you're so ready to go get your beauty sleep and I know we'll see each other at work tomorrow – but you sound terrible, Steve. Are you really okay?"

Robin's voice is as soothing as much as it picks at him, all the little threads he'd found on the floor to put himself back together get snatched back up by her soulmate premonition feelings or whatever, and he feels his sore eyes start to sting again.

"Rob, everything's fine," he says, heading to the sink, stretching the phone cord so he can get a cold glass of water. "Just took a little nap."

"Oh, that's good," She sighs, clearly relieved. "I guess… I'll let you go?"

Steve's heart feels full of something that aches, but maybe it's not really in a bad way. He can't tell right now, but he blinks and blinks and blinks until his eyes aren't threatening to un-convince Robin of his fine-ness.

"Yeah, I'll see you in the morning," he says, and pauses, digging his toes into the tile floor to brace himself. "Have good dreams, love you."

Robin's voice is warm and thready when she replies, the phone doing a bad job of replicating it but he can still imagine she's speaking into his shoulder again.

"Love you too, goodnight Steve."

---

He does more crying in the shower, though this time it’s more of a relieved thing.

The little worry in the background of his mind that Robin had said it accidentally earlier is gone – and the larger worry in the front of his mind that he'd somehow ruin their friendship by saying the same thing back at her is gone too.

He's almost excited to get to work tomorrow, though his self esteem hasn't been doing all that great lately, with summer vacation and everyone he went to high school with coming back home from college.

Logically he doesn't care about the judgmental questions and the superior airs they put on, as if surviving another year of schooling could hold a candle to the crazy shit he's survived, but it still like, hurts.

At least the store’s been too busy for them to be scheduled for solo shifts, so he's mostly just working his full day with Robin, and aside from the retail hell of it all, it's been kind of nice just getting to hang out together for hours and hours.

---

Robin's too good at reading him, and he regrets his excitement to see her so soon after his weird love induced meltdown on the welcome mat.

"Oh my God, you lied!" She hisses as he takes his place behind the counter, leaning beside her. "Clearly something was wrong last night."

He knows his eyes are slightly fucked up still, but he's had nights of bad sleep that had him looking worse, so he's truly confused for a moment, and lets her know that, his perplexed frown out in full force as she sets her hands on his shoulders.

"C'mon, the puppy dog eyes aren't going to work," she says, squeezing and shaking him a little bit. "You let me think I was an over-worrier! That I was thinking too much. Tell me, Steve."

He sighs, closes his eyes, and wishes desperately they weren't at work for this.

"Any chance of letting me talk about it in eight hours?"

Robin scoffs, and digs her fingers into the meat of his shoulders.

It's probably meant to hurt, but it's a pleasant pressure, his muscles feeling a little sore from all of the tension he’s been carrying.

"No, tell me now before we have to flip the sign," she says, the little crack in her voice betraying her whole pissed off act.

"Fine just. Don't laugh," he says, wondering if it's more pathetic to ask her not to or more pathetic to experience it if she does.

She raises her eyebrows, eyes lasered in on his as he opens them, and she just looks sad.

"It hurt, you know, in the car. I just… I knew something wasn't okay but I had no idea what it was, but I was sure it was something to do with you," she says, subdued.

The soulmates thing gets pretty freaky sometimes, but Steve's heard of this happening to like, identical twins. So why not him and Robin, honestly?

"Sorry," he says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Just uh, when you. Said you loved me."

Robin winces, loosens her grip on his shoulders.

"Not good?" She asks, and Steve frowns.

"No, it was good," he says quickly, doesn't want her to feel bad for saying it, or worse, take it back. "I'm…"

He thinks about it, the little bright spark in his chest that's been flickering, fighting against all of the heaviness and general stress he's been feeling. It grows a little stronger every time he sees her, and he hopes that one day it can be a proper flame.

"It's just been a while," he whispers, thinks that this isn't fair to even tell her. "Since someone's told me that."

It sounds depressing as hell, and truly, despite whatever his 3AM wallowing would have to say about it, he's been doing fine, has a full enough social calendar with his friends.

"Oh," Robin says, the way it hurts as plain as a clear day on her face. "Well, I love you."

Steve finds himself blinking back tears again, and the smile that sneaks up on him feels like the lightening of a burden, an unpacked suitcase.

"I love you too."

[chasingfigments]

So here's what I've been up to

Despite the years of relative silence, I actually HAVE been writing, and writing a lot. Most of it just isn't public yet.

September 2021 to January 2023: Planned and outlined a FFXV alternate universe collab with @crazyloststar. (~20,000 words)

January 2023 to present: Started writing the FFXV alternate universe collab. (~76,000 words; 21/36 chapters written; no chapters posted)

January 2023 to August 2023: Took notes for and outlined a FE3H fic about Lysithea returning to Ordelia and dismantling her house, while also being in a long-distance relationship with Claude. (~9,000 words)

September 2023 to present: Started writing the FE3H fic. (~20,000 words; 6/14 chapters written; no chapters posted)

February 2024 to March 2024: Outlined For Some Desperate Glory, a Batman fic where Red Hood kidnaps Bruce Wayne instead of taking over the drug trade. (~7,000 words)

February 2024 to present: Started writing For Some Desperate Glory. (~5,000 words; 1/12 chapters written; 1 chapter posted)

More detail about each of these projects after the cut.

FFXV collab with crazyloststar

If you liked all of our Borders of Divinity bullshit, expect More but also Different. It's another alternate universe/canon divergence, and it's going to be half again as long as BoD.

We're nearly done with Act 2 (chapter 25), which we're scheduled to wrap up next month. We'll be doing a massive continuity edit at that point (it's been well over a year since we wrote chapter one), and once that's finished, we're likely going to start approaching artists for commissions.

According to our writing schedule, we'll be drafting the final chapter sometime in November 2024.

We'll likely start posting before then, but that's going to depend on art and how closely we stick to the writing schedule. We liked being able to post every week with BoD and don't want to risk having to delay a chapter because we're behind.

You'll likely start seeing chapters this year, though it's incredibly likely we'll still be posting in 2025 given its length.

FE3H Lysithea dismantles her house

I'm obsessed with Lysithea's canon ending with Claude, couldn't find anything on AO3 that addressed it, and so here I am, writing it myself.

Also stealing other shit from other endings, but please note--this is essentially the aftermath of a no-recruitment run. It's Golden Deer, with cameos and occasional mentions of other Church-aligned folks.

Claude is off in Almyra for almost the entire fic; here's hoping you're into long-distance relationships when mail delivery takes ages and is not as reliable as the USPS.

I need to get through Act 2 (chapter 9) and do a continuity edit there before I feel comfortable posting.

You'll start seeing chapters this year; maybe late summer-ish. I should be able to get this off my plate this year.

For Some Desperate Glory (Batman fic)

The first chapter is up because I was extra excited and feeling reckless and wanted to get something up the first half of the year when everything else is still months out from being public.

I've gotten my hands on the deluxe version of the UTRH comic; aiming to read it this month. This is likely to cause some additional outline revisions; the chapter count may actually go down--we'll see.

This is the one fic I plan to post chapters as they're finished; the narrative structure is different from the two other projects and won't require continuity checks/overhauls at a specific point.

Hoping to have the entire fic done and up this year. Wish me luck!

[avionvadion]

We've angered enough gods, lol. I think there's only... one that's on our side right now??? Anyways, MILD GALE and MASSIVE GONDIAN/IRONHAND GNOMES SPOILERS BELOW.

Welcome to the anxiety club!

PFFFT. Mood.

Astarion, you literally gave up the chance to be a Vampire Ascended. What are you talking about???

OH SHIT GORTASH. HEY. HI. SORRY I MISSED YOUR ORDINATION CEREMONY. MY BADS. HONESTLY HAD NO IDEA WHERE IT WAS TAKING PLACE BECAUSE OF HOW SIDETRACKED AND DISTRACTED I GOT. HOW'S IT GOING??? WASN'T EXPECTING TO SEE YOU HERE.

Alskjfldkjfldkjfldk, I was so tempted to go with number three. I love that it's even an option. You can see Astra contemplating the pros and cons of telling him to "f" off.

OMELUUM!??? BUDDY!??? YOU'RE HERE!??? WHY ARE YOU HERE!???

So many surprise encounters and I'm just trying to finish my massive list of sidequests.

Anyways, long story short I freed all but one of the hostages- that one was killed on his way running out by the enemies. Astra and Wyll were also... blown up, because Astra died and Wyll wouldn't have made it out. Omeluum got Karlach out just in time. Astarion was the first to reach the ladder.

All the baddies decided they were gonna gang up on my girl. T_T It was very rude of them. Poor Karlach had to do all the lockpicking. I had to keep reloading so she could roll natural twenties because she needed a 25. RIP. I probably could have restarted and sent Astarion that way instead, but, well, it's fine.

Everything's fine.

Poor Astarion. I find it absolutely hilarious that the game put him in charge since Astra was out of commission. Just, oh, what's that? Your wife died? Your turn to hold the braincell, then!

Imagine him getting up to the submarine and waiting for everyone to hurry up, and Karlach and Omeluum appearing- but Astra and Wyll are nowhere to be seen, and Karlach is like, "I tried to help her, but the bastards shot her back down! Before I could try to carry her and Wyll, squiddie over here teleported me."

Omeluum: "A thank you for saving your life would have sufficed..."

And the prison is already exploding so Astarion has no choice but to maneuver the submarine to safety.

WITHERS, PLEASE, MAN IS TRYING TO REVIVE HIS WIFE. BESIDES, HE'S MOST LIKELY GREY-ACE, ANYWAY. LEAVE HIM ALONE.

Astarion did not wake up this morning thinking he was going to have to revive Astra and Wyll.

I've.... never actually had to revive a character yet. I've always been able to "help" them back up, so Withers and the twenty Revivify Scrolls I have were just... chilling all seventy hours of my playthrough so far. Huh.

ONWARDS TO THE FACTORY.

BADA BOOM, BABY!!!!

Gods, I can't stand this asshole. Genuinely regret saving him.

YOU TELL HIM!!!! GO OFF, KINGS!!!

I am... so proud of Barcus right now, oh my gods. This is so satisfying. Finally he's breaking things off with that toxic genocidal asshat. I knew it was too much to expect an apology from Wulbren, but for Barcus to call him out on his bullshit and dump his sorry ass??? PERFECTION. I love this gnome so much. He does his best.

DON'T YOU FREAKING DARE LAY A HAND ON MY BOY BARCUS WROOT. I WILL FIREBALL AND MAGIC MISSILE YOUR FACE IN, WULBREN. KARLACH WILL CLEAVE HER AXE THROUGH YOUR SKULL.

HA!

BARCUS, MY BOY!!!!!!!!! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

A marriage ends - chapter three

Note: so this is the final chapter of my series. I’ll let you know that this one is filled with angst like the rest, and it acts as a conclusion to the story. I hope you enjoyed this series and thank you for reading it! 💜;

Pair: Albert Wesker x F!Reader;

Tags: angst;

Ko-fi: if you want to support or commission me, you can find more details on my ko-fi page, or you can just DM me. Thank you 💜.

Chapter one || Chapter two

To a certain degree, the aftermath of the affair left both of you scarred.

Seeing the fragile state of Wesker, you told Chris it was best to leave you two alone. He left the apartment quietly, with a sour taste in his mouth.

You were sitting in the bed, fully dressed, waiting for Wesker to come out of the bathroom. Every second that passed in that awful silence prolonged your anxiety and guilt. You were left alone with your thoughts, which became harder to endure.

When he came out, the sound of the front door being closed could be heard faintly in the background. The thought of being alone with you brought him some ease, but not enough to mask his feelings.

“I told him to leave us alone.” You said, noticing his exhausted state.

“I see.” He didn’t look at you. Instead, he was focused on putting his shirt on.

“Maybe this is the moment where we talk about us?”

“Sweetheart, we didn’t talk about us our whole marriage; why talk about it now? I believe everything was said through actions.” Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was the sadness, but he found your proposal quite amusing. Besides, he had a point.

“I can’t argue with that. So what now?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he opened the closet and pulled out a travel bag.

"Albert, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He began to carefully pack some of his clothes. From costumes to socks, he carefully placed them inside the bag.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know what I expected. As you said, we haven’t talked during our marriage. Why talk now?” A slight feeling of anger pierced through your heart.

"Ok, fine, what do you want to talk about?” He stood up and looked at you, noticing that you were irritated. “How have you cheated on me? How have we both let this marriage fail?” He raised his voice.

“ Yes! Anything works, let’s talk about anything for goddamn once!”

“Alright then, I was a fool for not only not acting sooner but for also not realizing what kind of woman you are. Maybe it’s better I didn’t do a thing; at least now I know who you really are!”

"Who am I really?"”

“Yes, a fucking cheater!”

"No, honey, no, I’ll tell you what kind of woman I am—one that put up with all your bullshit and was there for you no matter what. I tried to talk with you to make you open up to me, but every goddamn time you’ll take a step back and shut down emotionally. I’m grateful for your support, but in our ten years of marriage, I never really felt you close to me. You never let me know, in any way, that you were there for me.”

“Then why the fuck did you marry me?”

“I was naive; I thought you’d change.”

“So I’m always the problem, as usual. You know what? I don’t have energy for this.” He said as he continued to put clothes in his bag, this time in a sleazy way.

“Fine, just do what you always do! Abandon me, shut me down, and go bury yourself in more paperwork!”

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do! Meanwhile, you can call Chris to finish what you started!”

“Maybe I will! At least he listens to me!”

You burst into tears and looked away. All you could do was helplessly stay in bed and hear your husband packing his stuff.

“What about the apartment?” You said it between sobs.

“You can have it.” He said it in an emotionless tone.

“I was thinking you can have it, you know, after all that happened…” You wanted to give him everything, just to be able to get rid of some of the guilt.

“Why would I want to live in the apartment where my wife cheated on me?”

From a logical point of view, he was right. Even if he had his share of guilt, he didn’t have to sleep in the same bed in which you cheated on him. What surprised you is how easily he gave up on your shared home. Or how apparently easy it was, since it was a hard decision for him too, but he made up his mind about it a long time ago. You couldn’t really tell what he was feeling, since he never talked about it.

“You’re right; I’m sorry.”

This was painful for you too, as you’d had to live in this home among the good memories you made with Wesker throughout the years. Despite these setbacks, it was a good marriage. Why did it have to end like this? Why did you two let it ruin in such a way?

The sound of the zipper and the rustling of clothes was heard in the room for a while, until Wesker asked another hurtful question.

“Tell me, y/n, did Chris wear any of my clothes?”

“No, I’m not that cruel.”

“Thank you.”

With a weary heart, he closed the bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

“None of us is capable of making any rational decisions now.” He said as he approached you, stopping at the edge of the bed. “One of my lawyers will probably contact you in the following days.” He said it in such a cold tone, but again, it was the tone you were used to.

From outside, it seemed like he didn’t care about the crying woman who was sitting in the bed, one whose world was slowly falling apart. He remained stiff, with a blank expression on his face. But if someone could see inside Wesker’s heart, they could see that it was bleeding, for it was being torn apart by sorrow and resentment.

Feeling like he couldn’t stay any longer, he turned around and left. Every muscle in his body ached as he wanted to comfort you, maybe to do the thing he failed at during your marriage, which was to show you that he could be there for you emotionally. However, he knew it was too late. With a quick pace, he headed out of the apartment, closing the front door loudly. In that silence, only your sobs could be heard as you were left alone with your thoughts again. They began to torment you instantly, not allowing you a single moment of peace.

They loved each other, but it couldn’t go on like this. She failed to see into his heart, and he failed to understand her needs. He loved his wife so much that he wanted to have her one more time before giving her to the other man. At the end, he wishes both of them a happy life together. Now all that remains is to figure out what’s going to happen in its own.

Taglist: @shadow-wolf510 @cassie-todd @ravenrune

[bluebrainrot]

Here's a ROTTMNT fanfic W.I.P I'm not going to finish,

it's 3k words long.

(TW/CW for injuries and feelings of guilt which result in reckless activity.)

oh god, he was so fucking bored, 

Sure Leo had practically gotten his shit handed to him in a nicely wrapped up present with a tiny blue bow by the Krang a couple months ago,

and sure he ended up passing out for an entire week after the adrenaline passed which gave his entire family a heart attack,

but that didn't stop the numbness crawl it's way through his chest, the small prickling feeling of dread make its way up his neck, or the heavy pit that stayed in his stomach as soon as he was left alone.

Boredom, Yeah, it's totally boredom, it could literally be nothing else, not fear, or anxiety, or guilt that he was the reason his family and the entire world was almost destroyed.

No, he was just bored.

He picked at his bandaged arms, staring at the ceiling scheming, he would make his escape tonight

"Nardo, do not." Donnie had entered the med bay and went to check his vitals,

"I wasn't going to do anything?!" Leo shot back, giving his brother an incredulous look,

Even though Donnie swore that twin telepathy wasn't a thing (or that they were twins because "We are literally two different species' of turtles, Dum Dum.") Donnie always knew when he was gonna pull some bullshit, 

"I mean stop picking at your bandages, Dum Dum." 

"Oh," Leo mentally sighed and decided to fidget with his fingers instead.

The plan was still on.

"And don't even think about leaving the med bay." he said momentarily glaring at leo, after he finished checking Leo's iv, 

Fuck.

"I- Me? Never. I'm out of commission, doc, you know that," He said faking a hurt tone, as if he was offended that Donnie would assume such a thing.

"I'm stuck here, I can barely stand," he pouted at Donnie, that was only partially not true. Leo had practiced hobbling around when everyone was asleep, 

Donnie raised a drawn on eyebrow at him, to which Leo returned with a half grin half smirk, 

There was a pause of silence before Donnie sighed, 

"Alright," Donnie started, 

Leo mentally cheered and smiled, 

"but i guess since you're stuck here," Donnie paused for a second, "I'm sure you won't mind me keeping you company?"

Leo's face fell while it was Donnie's turn to smirk, 

"I'm sure you'd love to have me, your older twin, stay with you." He continued with a smug grin, as he looked at Leo, who was busy looking half terrified,

Leo recovered and attempted to grin back, 

"Yea, sure," He blinked taking a minute, before opening and closing his mouth in thought of what to say next,

"Great." Donnie said, "Now, if you don't mind, dear brother, I need to get somethings done before I join you." He said with a monotone flourish before he left the med bay, 

as soon as he was out of earshot Leo cursed, sour that his dear twin brother managed to snuff out his plans, he laid his head back down on the pillow rolling his eyes at the ceiling,

his head was cramped with the thought of new york, how he used to run along rooftops with his brothers, fight crime, Go to "Run of the Mill" and annoy his second father figure Señor Hueso, 

he mostly missed the sounds, the bustling alive streets that were never quiet, which felt like a stark contrast to the med bay, 

where the only sounds were machines beeping signaling that Leo had somehow survived, dripping of sewer pipes buried somewhere within the walls, the hushed whispers and conversations that would happen infront of the med bay when his family thought he was asleep,

it all felt like too much, or too empty, sure his brothers would come in and talk to him, 

or try to, atleast.

It would usually end in an awkward silence as if they had no idea what to say, because what do you say to your brother who had sacrificed himself, who resigned himself a fate with practically no chance of survival?

it was usually with Raph that conversations died fast, because there was always something else he wanted to say, always something that just died on the tip of his tongue, Leo often wondered what it was, 

a part of him thinks it would be about Leo's stunt at the docks, how because of his inability to shut up they had been spotted, 

how he had disobeyed Raph and went after the key on his own without a single thought or plan on how he would have gotten out on his own, 

how Raph had to sacrifice himself for Leo and deal with the consequences which was forever memorialized on his face, an ugly scar over his eye, a reminder on how it was Leo's fault.

The sane part of Leo knows that Raph did not hold it against him, but it still was a terrifying, ugly thought that felt like hot coals were being shoved down his throat and burned smoke into his eyes.

with Mikey conversations flowed somewhat smoothly, Leo could sense he desperately wanted to bring out Dr. feelings but would supress it, 

They would continue to talk about skateboarding or a meme Mikey got from April, but no matter the subject Leo's eyes were always led to his baby brothers hands and forearms, 

They were painted with faint scars, jagged, thin and ran along his arms like dead tree branches, it was a show of Mikey's love and determination; a mark that shouldn't have to be there. 

Leo knew that Mikey struggled, his hands were filled with tremors, he could barely hold a pencil or a paintbrush anymore. 

Leo may have sacrificed himself, but Mikey? Mikey gave up his art, his ability to breathe life onto a blank page and Leo was the one who took it from him.

He had heard Mikey crying one night, from the darkness he could hear sniffles permeating through the lair, that reminded Leo of when they were kids and Mikey would skin his knees by tripping over his own feet from running too fast, 

Leo hated hearing Mikey cry which is why he had found those old knee pads, but this, this required more than knee pads, a bandaid, soft words and cuddles.

Leo had asked him about it one night and to his surprise Mikey answered truthfully, he had told Leo everything, how even though he was glad that ge managed to save Leo, he missed being able to draw, to paint, to create. 

That night ended in both Mikey and Leo crying, one with relief of finally unburdening themselves with pent up emotions, and the other with guilt.

Mikey was always so much stronger than him in that sense, he was so willing and open with his feelings. 

He would never tell Mikey this, knowing he would most definitely break out Dr. Feelings, but It made Leo feel sick with himself, It was another weight added to his stomach, another way he could torture himself,

Another reason as to why he should have been left in the prison dimension.

Leo couldn't believe his baby brother felt the need to save him.

He didn't need saving.

He didn't want it, not at the expense of his family.

If Mikey hadn't saved Leo, he wouldn't had to give up on his art. Not for a brother that fucked everything up.

But with Donnie it was different, it was easier.

His twin was never one for feelings or emotions, and rather preferred to sit with you in silence, and usually used small touches; a hand on your shoulder, as a way offering his presence as an anchor, or to say I'm here.

Leo was grateful for that in many ways, 

however, in this case, he wasn't.

Donnie had returned with some mush he called Leo's dinner,

Leo couldn't eat anything solid, Thanks to the Krang and his temper tantrum in the prison dimension, which in turn led him to have a diet of liquids and baby food.

Leo whinned as Donnie placed the plate of mushed up peas in front of him, 

"c'mon Donnieeee" he dragged, 

"I've been having shitty mashed peas for the past month. It's fucking disgusting and flavorless and boring."

Donnie gave him an unimpressed look, "Leon, you know very well why you have to eat the peas," Donnie sat down on the chair beside the bed, where for the past month or so, his brothers had been taking turns, to watch over an unconcious Leo.

The seat was, from what Leo had heard, had mostly been occupied by Raph. Donnie and Mikey being very close seconds.

"you're the team medic, and as team medic you know that your stomach pulled an AllMight and half of it got destroyed." Donnie crossed his arms as he talked and shifted in his seat.

"yeah, I know that, DonTron" he rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask 'why?' I just want something other than fucking peas, or atleast something with salt." He glared at the plate on his lap.

Donnie sighed, "Leon. Eat the fucking peas." 

Leo frowned at Donnie then the plate of peas, then at Donnie, then peas, Donnie, Peas, Donnie, Peas, and grimaced.

he groaned before using the plastic blue spoon that kindergarden children were most familiar with, and took a bite of the room temperature peas, making a disgusted face as he swallowed, 

He looked back at Donnie who was still seated next to him with his arms crossed, unimpressed with Leo's antics.

Leo scooped another spoonful, bringing it up halfway and paused, stared at the peas, and put it back down, turned to Donnie, 

"DonDonnnn, my arm hurts," he pouted.

Donnie pinched the bridge of his beak and groaned,

Leo smirked,

"Nardo, I swear on the pizza supreme in the sky." He looked at Leo, borderline glaring at him.

Leo stared back with a blank face, before it contorted into one of pleading.

Donnie swore under his breath that his brother was going to give him an ulcer before they turn 18, 

"Fine. Fine. I'll try and find something else."

Leo smiled back at Donnie. "Ohmigosh! Thank you, Thank you so so so much, Donnie, you are the greatest brother ever, have I ever told you tha-"

Donnie held out a finger to shut him up, "I said 'try'." He gave a tired sigh before he continued,

"and whatever I bring you have to eat it. no complaining, nothing. Got it?" He said eyeing Leo.

"Todd scouts honor." He said before drawing a cross with his finger on his plastron.

Donnie got up, narrowing his eyes at Leo as he got to the door of the med bay, before leaving. 

Leo wait a few minutes before he grinned, sat up and stretched over to place the peas on donnies seat, 

he swung his legs over the bed, using the iv stand to stabilize himself, before taking a few explorative steps, 

Leo removed the iv from his wrist and used the stand for a couple more steps, before attempting to stay upright on his own.

he wobbled, and stuck his arms out like a tightrope walker to keep steady, his face focused, tongue sticking out as he tried his best not to fall over.

Leo took a few more steps before he could comfortably walk, more like limp, around the Med bay.

He started making his way through the med bay trying his best to quiet his foot falls, and leaned out the door to see if anyone was coming, after he was satisfied, he went back in and made his way to one of the vents, 

he opened it and scurried inside, closing the vent behind him, his mind made an inkling thought of an among us joke, before he snickered and moved on.

Leo had memorized the ventilation shafts as a way to fight his boredom one night,

He made the necessary turns till he made it to his subway cart room.

He clambered down, and entered his room filled with Jupiter jim and lou jitsu posters and action figures, comic books sat in teetering piles near his unmade bed, as his twin katanas laid across his desk.

he grabbed his katana holders that was draped on his desk chair and struggled it over his carapace before taking one katana and placing it in the holder and using the other like a makeshift crutch.

he made his way to the back door of the subway cart and opened it, 

Leo used this exit many times before, especially on quiet nights when his insomnia was acting up and drinking tea or rewatching jupiter jim or lou jistu movies weren't working,

he'd make his way out of the abandonded subway tunnels, up to the surface and wander around, 

Leo did the same thing he'd been doing in the two years after Shredder had destroyed their first home, Before the krang Fucked up everything.

Except, now, he stumbled down the subway tunnels with his katana as a crutch rather than easily stroll like before.

Leo found his way to the surface taking a minute to stare at the sky, 

The similar sounds flooded his ears. The people. The constant movement and chatter. The soft goan of a new city being rebuilt over an old one.

Leo felt at peace, he felt lighter, as he dragged himself out of the abandoned subway catacombs, and made his way up onto the rooftops with the help of an old fire escape, 

he had at first decided to aimlessly wonder around to take in the sights and the feeling of his city.

It had been a long time. Way too long.

as he walked around he noticed that even though it was familiar, it was all so vastly different.

As the sounds of construction took up most of the air, there were more people than ever queuing up infront of food drives, and there were more crumbling and abandoned buildings than usual. 

Leo's face hardened, as he realized that these were all effects of the invasion.

Of the catastrophic event that rocked practically everyones shit.

He felt the stubbling feelings of guilt prickle its way through his chest, as he stared down at his city, his home.

Leo shook his head, he was here to feel better, to not feel bored anymore. 

That what he was going to do.

he pushed back the all encompassing thoughts and dread, all the way to the back of his mind, tonight is his night. 

The only night he'll allow himself.

Leo needed to get serious; about his family, his city, and himself.

Because it was never about him, it was never supposed to be. 

Leo looked back at the sky almost inky and dark, but dented with the city lights, proof to him that new york was healing and that it would all be ok.

Leo's stomach grumbled, as he was lost in his thoughts.

Leo hummed as if to let himself know that he recognized he was hungry.

a few mummbled thoughts went through his mind before he managed to pick one.

Run of the Mill. Señor Hueso.

He needed to check up on Hueso, and eat something that wasn't fucking flavorless peas.

Leo made his way across the rooftops till he reached the alleyway where Run of the Mill was hidden. 

He opened the mystic door and sauntered in, putting an air of "I'm completely ok, the casts, bandages and sword i'm using to keep myself from falling on my face are a fashion statement nothing more."

Leo was greeted with the warmth, smells and sounds the restraunt usually had, and for a second his mind melted, it was so familiar, it was exactly as he left it, and Leo loved it.

Too many things had changed and he was so glad that atleast one thing was the same.

Leo with the same sauntering pace limped with his sword, up to the counter, flashing a grin to the waitstaff.

"Heeeeeyyyyyyyy," Leo had proped himself against the counter, leaning his sword next to him.

The yokai manning the counter was a type of humanoid black bear who wore a black button down, and had an annoyed snarl placed on their face as they looked down at Leo.

"Do you think by any chance you can get me Señor Hueso? you see he is like a really good pal of mine," He paused expectingly, waiting for the bear to go get Hueso, but they stood there, still snarling.

"we are muy close, super duper close like almost like a mentor/mentee type of deal or one could even say father and son?" Leo stopped, raising his nonexistent eyebrows, a small part of him wondering if he should just leave.

But he continued anyway "actually more like uncle and nephew, anywhizzle, I'm sure he would love to see that i'm doing amazing," Leo gestured to himself, which would more likely disprove his point rather than help it.

"after the entire almost end of the world thing at the hands/tentacles of chewed up bubblegum." He tried to give the bear a smile in an attempt to convince him, 

there was silence as the yokai and Leo made eye contact for a solid minute, the bears ears flicking from time to time.

Leo broke first and groaned, "It's fine i'll just get him myself." and gave the bear a sarcastic smile, before peeling himself off the counter and hobbling into the bustling restraunt with his weight on his katana, towards Hueso's office.

The bear grunted as he did so, and greeted the next customer with silence.

Leo slowly weaved his way through the waiters and tables before making to the door of hueso's office, promptly knocking before he let himself in,

grinning as (humanely?) turtley possible, as he greeted Hueso with a "Heeeeyyyyy Boneman," and finger guns.

Hueso was on his office phone, his eyes, eyesockets? widened as he saw the turtle barge into his office, 

He muttered a quick assurance to whoever was on the phone before cutting the line.

That's it! Thanks if you read this far ^_^

Here's a picture of my grand uncle's cat as thanks.

[shera-dnd]

Hey so over the past couple of months I've been writing a little G Witch fic as a warm up before my actual commissions, just something easy to get my brain in writing mode

And now it's finished!

This one is a post canon ChuChu/Miorine/Suletta fic, in which Miorine tries to sacrifice herself for Suletta's happiness and ChuChu decides she's having exactly none of that.

I'll be posting a new chapter every sunday so we can keep those Suletta Sundays alive at least for an extra month

Also fair warning chapter 4 is mostly shameless smut.

but right now enjoy some angst

Chu Chu shuffled in her sleep, a strange coldness making her stir. 

She reached forward on instinct, trying to reach for something, just to hit the cold mattress instead.

When she opened her eyes she saw that she was alone in the bed. 

The room was dark, except for the soft glow that came through the large window - the distant earth reflecting the sun’s rays. And framed by that glow stood Miorine, wrapped in a dark blue night gown.

Figures .

Chu Chu huffed as she sat up on the bed, “if you’re gonna ask me to stay the night, the least you can do is actually stay in bed with me.”

Miorine did not bother turning, she just kept staring off into the distance.

“I didn’t feel like sleeping,” came her half assed answer.

With a muttered complaint Chu Chu stood up from the bed, a white tank top the only thing keeping her from being fully nude.

“You’re thinking about Suletta, aren’t you?” Chu Chu accused, fully certain she was right, “when are you planning on telling her about this?”

That got Miorine to look at her, Suletta Mercury’s name pulling on her like a leash.

“My husband and I already have an agreement,” Miorine explained coldly, “she’s free to pursue her happiness with whoever suits her fancy.”

“Tch!” Chu Chu stomped over, “then what is all this crap?”

A cruel smirk formed in the heiress’s face, “a woman has her needs.”

She scoffed, “like I’m gonna buy that! You’re plotting something. What do you have to gain from this?”

Miorine laughed, “at least three orgasms just tonight.”

Chu Chu’s hand slammed against the window, cornering the heiress in a way they’ve done many times before.

“You think if you piss me off you’ll get to keep lying,” Chu Chu accused, “but I know you. You can’t hide shit from me, princess.”

Miorine scowled, “I have nothing to hide! Not from you, nor Suletta!”

Realization hit Chu Chu like a sack of bricks.

The reason they’ve been doing this more and more, why she had asked her to stay the night.

Why she refused to tell the truth.

“You want her to find us, don’t you?” she spoke, more calmly than even she expected.

Miorine looked away, confirming her suspicions.

But why? Couldn’t she just tell Suletta about this? 

She was pretty sure that girl would accept it just fine.

Unless…

“You want a scandal!” she exclaimed, pushing away from Miorine, “you want to give Suletta a reason to divorce you!”

Miorine shrunk down and crossed her arms, still refusing to make eye contact, “Suletta performed admirably as the Holder. She saved me from a life of being used as a political pawn. The least I can do is offer her a chance to find her happiness.”

“So that 's it?” Chu Chu asked, her tone having gone somber, “you’re throwing both of us under the bus for Suletta’s happiness?”

“Of course not!” she argued, finally meeting Chu Chu’s gaze, “I’ll make sure the name Chuatury Panlunch will never hit the news.”

Miorine pushed herself up again, her hands bracing against the glass behind her.

“With the entire scandal resting on my shoulders alone I’ll be useless as a pawn,” she explained, “I’ll earn my freedom, Suletta will have her happiness, and you… get to put me in my place as many times as you’d like. Everyone gets what they want.”

Bullshit!

That was a bold faced lie, and Miorine was an idiot if she thought Chu Chu would buy it. 

Then again, maybe Chu Chu wasn’t the one she was lying to.

“What they want?” she asked, stepping closer. 

With two fingers she held Miorine’s chin, lifting her head so she’d look her in the eye.

The heiress closed her eyes, lips parting ever so slightly in anticipation for a kiss that never came.

“That Mercury girl sure is a lucky bitch,” Chu Chu whispered, before letting go of her chin, “but she’d be happier if you actually listened to her.”

Miorine blinked in confusion, opening her eyes to find Chu Chu picking up her clothes from the ground.

“What are you doing!?” she demanded.

“Leaving,” Chu Chu answered.

She stormed over, grabbing Chu Chu’s wrist as she began to put on her pants.

“You can’t do that!” she yelled, “you promised you’d stay!”

Chu Chu scoffed and yanked her hand free, “that’s when I thought you were touch starved, princess. I never agreed to taking part in your stupid plan.”

Miorine looked away, a frown forming on her face before she glared back at her.

“Why do you care!?” Miorine pushed back, “you just want to watch the rich spacian bitch suffer, don’t you? I’m giving you everything you want!”

Did she really think that lowly of Chu Chu?

...or did she think that lowly of herself?

“The smartest woman in the entire solar system, and you still can’t see the shit that’s right in front of you,” Chu Chu mocked, “tell me, princess, do you really think I would have agreed to fucking cuddle with you if all I wanted was to make you suffer? Do you think I’d come here night after night if I just wanted to put you in your place?”

There was silence as Chu Chu’s glare bore straight through all of her princess’s walls. Any arguments, any deflections, all crumbling before the unstoppable force that was Chu Chu.

What could she do now except be honest?

“Why else would you?” Miorine whispered, tears beginning to sting her eyes.

Chu Chu sighed and continued to get dressed.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head, “talk to Suletta, and actually listen to her for once.”

Fully dressed, Chu Chu made her way to the door. 

Behind her she could hear a hiccuping sob.

Fuck, that stung. 

She… she really didn’t want to leave Mio like this, but this would only get messier if she didn’t get her shit together.

Chu Chu stopped by the doorway. 

She didn’t dare look back. She knew she’d cave in if she did, but she still stopped, because she couldn’t leave her princess like that.

“Trust us,” she pleaded, “trust us to actually care about you.”

And with those words she took one more step and the door shut behind her.

[wendigoink]

Panic Attacks

Part One Golden eyes were focused on mismatched lips moving in front of him. They way the moved and curved to articulate certain words. Words that were no doubt coming from those lips, but fell onto deaf ears. Or rather, muffled ears. Hawks prided himself on his keen hearing, but right now even with the amount of attention he was putting into Dabi’s information giving, all the mans words sounded muffled. He was trying to absorb the information, truly the Hero was. But there was also the sound of his heart…that was constantly increasing. Was it too fast? No, it wasn’t too fast, it was normal for him. What about that clammy feeling in his hands? No, that was just because of his gloves and the humidity today. …Right? It had to be, it couldn’t be anything else. Okay, then what about his shaking muscles? The urge to curl into himself tightly, wings around him defensively? Tired- he was just tired, that was all. The Commission had been running him ragged lately, and his sleep had changed to keep up with Dabi’s schedule. That was all, he was absolutely fine. There was nothing wrong with him at all- “...Chicken.” Dabi’s voice was suddenly right in front of him, and Hawks nearly leapt out of his skin. It took every ounce of his training to control his reaction, and instead give a slow blink. Then, that showman smile. “What’s up, Dabs?” Though he kept his tone light, Dabi was no fool. He would cross his arms over his chest, arching a brow at the Avian Hero and tilting his head slightly in that familiar way that Hawks had come to learn was a ‘you’re caught’. “Oh, nothing. Just finished telling you the secret recipe that Toga uses for her hair color treatments, and Twice’s moonshine mix. And you didn’t even bat an eye. So, what’s eating at you?” A frown turned Hawks’ lips, and he would just hold a hand up to wave it idly. “Ah, nothin’. Just tired?” “Bullshit.” “How’s it bullshit if it’s true, Dabs? C’mon, I’m just tired is all! No worries.” He spoke with a grin, and Dabi scowled like he’d stepped in something foul. “I’m not worried. I’m pissed. If you can’t be here and keep up your end of the deal, you know full well you won’t-” “I know, I know I won’t be able to meet the big bad boss. I won’t rise up to your extortionate expectations. Blah blah, trust me I get it so save me the crap and either let me know my next task, or let me go home.” His words might’ve come out sharper than intended, but it apparently got his point across. Dabi for his part looked mildly surprised, but also much more interested now. He’d never seen Hawks snap at him like that, but looking over the male… Pale. Pupils constricting and dilating. His slow, shallow breaths or even sometimes a lack of breathing in general. The way his wings were more tucked into his back today, or how he shifted his weight subtly every now and then. The vacant staring, dissociation no doubt. “...You’re having a panic attack.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. One that Hawks refused instantly. “No. I’m tired, there’s a difference.” He flatly denied the accusation. To which Dabi sighed and rolled his eyes. “It means nothing to me about your state of mind, honestly. Whatever you put yourself through to get into this state is on you, but it does affect your ability to listen and give me information.” He spoke flatly, and the words seemed to sting more than they should to Hawks. It affects his abilities to do what he’s here for. The only thing he’s there to do, is to give information to Dabi and get the same in turn eventually. To gain the others trust, and he’s failing that. He’s failing at every step, it’s going to fall apart and- His thoughts were spiraling. Logically, Hawks knew that wasn’t going happen. Not anytime soon anyways. But the inevitable rise of panic fed into those dark thoughts, and when did his mouth suddenly become so dry? Why did his stomach twist in such painful knots? “...It doesn’t- won’t, it won’t change my ability.” The Hero spoke up, voice a bit softer than normal. That feeling of dread and panic started to climb, clawing towards its apex, and Hawks stepped back. Dabi frowned some, watching the Hero. “Well, if that’s all here, I’m gonna go and…and get home, got a long day of patrol. Gimme a text when you’re ready for more, yea?” Before the Pyro could speak further, Hawks was gone in a flare of crimson plumes. Leaving Dabi staring after him with a frown, blue eyes watching the sky. /tbc

[threegoblinart]

Your art is amazing!!! The style is sooo pretty. How long does it usually take to finish one piece? And what are some tips for a beginner artist?

Hi friend! Thank you so much, you're just lovely. ❤️

At the moment I'd say a real finished painting can be 8-12 hours of work easily when you factor in sketch thumbnails, practicing tricky things and doing more than one draft.

My Willow at the Window was probably 12 hours because I had to reteach myself so perspective stuff I haven't done for 15+ years since set design class in college.

The drawing I posted today is already 5-6 sketches in my notebook and one previous first attempt with watercolor.

All this time is often over weeks - I work full time, have kids and we have a stupid number of hobbies, lessons, so I draw and paint in little snatches of time here and there.... Frequently at around 11 o'clock at night.

Advice... Oh, settle in and let the Art Mom tell you a tale... No, just kidding. I could regurgitate the usual junk (okay it's not junk and very valid, good advice like - yes you have to practice, use references, invest in quality materials whenever you can, explore different mediums until you find your thing, etc.). But instead I'm going to say this...

Remember two things:

1) art should be something you do because it makes you happy

and

2) remember you're an artist no matter what and be fucking proud of that

About point one, at the end of the day making art should make you happy... So that will mean different things to different people some people can find joy being considered a professional in their field, having art be their source of income and some will not. And that's okay.

I learned this the hard way. I tried to be a professional in my field (theatre) and for a while it was great, but I burned out quickly and realized that tying my livelihood to my art did not make me happy. I did not fail, I learned where my boundaries are to be happy, healthy and creative. So now I draw just for fun, sometimes do small commissions for friends, etc. Maybe one day I'll try to do more (I do have goals, I'd love to do more commissions, have my art in a book, have a small print store), but right now drawing my DND characters and fanart and silly little mushroom houses makes me happy and that's enough. Our worth as artists is not determined by sales or contracts or likes or followers, that's a bunch of consumerist, capitalist bullshit and your art and you are inherently worth more than that.

About point two... You're amazing, yep you, and you're an artist. Art is simply the expression of creativity and imagination and inspiration. It doesn't matter if your art is something on chapel ceilings or the back of your maths notebook - it doesn't matter if it's entirely original (I ❤️ fanart and guess what that stuff on the chapel ceiling is just religious fanart). Are you doing something creative, imaginative or inspired - congrats you're an artist (que Newsies "We're a union just by saying soooo!!!") And there are no other qualifiers based on skill or ability.

Whatever you create is something only you can do.

While it's absolutely fine to work on improvement and goals - it is good to study others work and take classes and learn and seek to improve - be proud of what you're making no matter what because you made it and that alone is amazing!

I learned this the hard way... I stopped drawing for 10 years, and only started again 3 years ago (I'm, ahem, not super young) and I'm still learning to take this to heart. I struggle with comparison and self worth as an artist still, it's not a light switch I can turn off but something I work at (and take medication for - stupid insufficient brain chemistry).

Comparison does nothing but rob you of joy. Be proud of what you can do right now. Be proud of what you could make last week or last year or when you were 6. Be inspired by others, but only compare you to you - that way you only see your improvement and surround yourself with people who will hype you up no matter where you are in skill and ability.

... but also, like, practice ... a lot.

P.S. as bonus these pictures are one of the first things I drew three years ago when I finally said "fuck it I'm going to draw again" and my most recent quick sketch. They both are different in skill and ability, but I'm proud of both.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Me rn because I accepted a writing commission that I will in fact finish but annoying me a bit because

1. My cycle decided to start so my mood is up and down

2. The story has been changed like three times right now (as of typing this...), mainly due to misunderstandings (most on my side I guess but my commission list LITERALLY has rules though after this commission I see I'll have to highlight things)

3. The story has a character that's supposed to be from a whole other fandom so basically this is a split fic which wouldn't be an issue except for the fact that the other fandom is a manwha that I've NEVER heard of...

I know this really makes me seem like the one not prepared but this is why I have my posts, so that everyone can actually read through them and know what I'm all about. Bonus note: commissioner seems to be in a rush for the work though I mentioned that 10k words could at least take a week. At least. It's only been a day..

I'm having to continue off a story that was already started but not finished which I also wasn't expecting.. I don't mind finishing work other's started but let's just say that none of this was expected because I had assumed my commission post said everything it needed to. I'll have to make tweaks later...

One being that if you ask for a fandom that I DON'T have listed I will tell you to be just a bit more patient than someone who did pick off the list. I write commissions yes but ANY commission wasn't noted. Two being that I'm serious about taking in consideration my timing on posts, I don't like feeling rushed and I don't mind people checking on me but have mercy. I am still disabled and out of school for such with major levels of depression and mental health like that so not being rushed definitely helps me. I don't mind being checked on but breathing down my neck makes this harder for both of us.

Finally, I don't mind you ASKING about fandoms that's not in the list but just assume it'll be better if you just commission what's on the list.

Anyway, the list is HERE!.

Edit:

Hi! I'm pissed off! :3

So they said that basically what they asked for wasn't included in their story and decided to report me to PayPal. (I'll have to delete it because of course I don't have that money to give back.) PayPal isn't even letting me give my side of the story which was total bullshit.

You gave me a story that had already been started by someone else and based off of how you responded I can see why it wasn't finished. Especially if you were as needy for things as you were with me.

2 you ADDED A FANDOM IM NOT IN and though that's more on my I sent you a template! I asked you questions! And not once until up to the point of later in the story did you mention anything wrong with how it was going. I say in the original COMMISSIONS POST what fandoms I write for and though I'm nice enough to accept other fandoms I wasn't even aware that you were mentioning a second fandom until AFTER I had the money transaction with you.

You rushed me the first couple days which made me feel like I had to get everything done at a certain time.

I also didn't like your tone and I would have liked you to say something sooner if you weren't liking the story and no not things you prefer but instead things you WANT. It's like you've never done a writing commission before.

To this person I hope you have the day you deserve and I hope you're reading this rn even though I got your silly ass blocked. All I could think while working on your commission was how GRATEFUL id be once I got it done and over with and boy was I right. I mention my situation, I mention my case and the last thing you choose to do is be understanding. I have NEVER had an issue with a customer before you because the ones before you knew how to LISTEN.

Finally having you gone is the slightest my shoulders have been in a week, since the moment you showed up in my life and my dms. Thank you for finally leaving me alone. I don't even wish you any bad will or anything like that, I just wish you never came to me to begin with.

Edit2:

They made it a claim. I take back not wishing ill but ffs. Ugh this is why I if you want a commission to read the commission rules. I'm actually frustrated, I'm not dealing with this tonight. Imma go smoke and call it a day. 😒

[maryannlores]

Just 2 friends chilling, dude.

Me and my good ol' friend @dramokin

[bakuthedeku]

their everyday game

Read on AO3

Words: 3,000

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Things Midoriya Izuku is: A student, a sugar baby, a boyfriend, a brat.

Things Midoriya Izuku is not: Patient.

Or: Izuku wants attention from Kacchan and he is going to get it.

A commissioned fic for @insinirate !

Clack clack clack. The room is silent but for the steady breaths of its occupants and the rhythmic beat of fingers on plastic. Clear, wall-to-ceiling windows wash the sun’s gentle light into the room, and reveal a picturesque view of the sparkling city, looking like something straight out of a magazine.

Izuku glares at the extravagant view. He bets Kacchan is writing another one of those stupid reports of his.

Buzz. The clacking halts and Kacchan glances at his work phone for but a moment before the typing resumes.

Izuku takes a deep breath. Holds it. Puffs out his cheeks.

He slumps over in his seat and sighs obnoxiously.

God, he’s so damn bored.

Kacchan said he had to get one more hour of work done, and then he’d take a break. That had been almost three hours ago. ‘One hour’ had turned into two when Izuku left Kacchan to get ready for their lunch date and had foolishly gone straight to the cafe instead of meeting up with Kacchan at the office first. He’d waited all of ten minutes at their usual table before calling a company car and returning to find Kacchan still working in his office.

If not for Kacchan’s genuine surprise at the time and his gruff, yet sweet apologies, he would be a dead man already.

But Izuku still isn’t satisfied. Kacchan needs a break, and Izuku needs attention, stat. There’s only one solution: Izuku’s gonna annoy the shit out of Kacchan. So Izuku sucks in another breath and pouts at the ceiling. “Kacchaaaaan!”

Kacchan sighs, but he doesn’t respond. The silence in the room grows thick with expectation; Izuku’s long-perfect attention-seeking tone signals the start of the game they play every day.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clack of keys and occasional buzz from Kacchan’s work phone. Izuku wriggles against his plush seat, making the leather squeak obnoxiously, and clears his throat daintily, earning himself a glance. “Kacchan, I’m hungry…” Izuku peaks at Kacchan from beneath fluttering eyelashes.

Kacchan shifts his eyes back to his computer and types another line, pointedly loud against the room’s still silence.

When they play this game, whoever breaks first (or whoever wants whatever they’re after more) will relent and go to the other, so this can go one of two ways; Izuku will pull himself from his lounging position to drape himself over Kacchan, or Kacchan will pull himself from his work and lavish Izuku with the attention he deserves.

Today, Izuku takes it upon himself to move things forward—Kacchan is in one of those moods where it could take hours to break him down, and Izuku needs results now.

So with an impatient, gusty sigh pulled deep from his lungs, Izuku heaves himself up and slinks over to Kacchan’s grand desk, stalking up from behind him. When Kacchan makes the mistake of glancing at Izuku from the corner of his eye, Izuku pounces.

Izuku wrenches Kacchan’s chair around and jumps into his lap, laying himself over Kacchan as well as the plush arms of his chair. Kacchan grunts out a quiet oof at the sudden weight but wraps an arm around his waist nonetheless.

“I’m working, Deku,” Kacchan says dryly.

“Actually, Kacchan, I think you’ll find that you’re cuddling me and giving me attention right now, and I can’t imagine why you’d want to stop.”

Kacchan exhales quietly and wrestles down the corners of his lips—it’s not quite a smile, but it’s a good enough start for Izuku. “I have a lot to do, so as much as I’d love to keep giving you all the attention you desire, I really do have to get back to work.”

Izuku wraps an arm around Kacchan’s neck and pretends to think, then shakes his head solemnly. “Unfortunately, it’s a no from me. I’m hungry and I want lunch.”

“Then go get lunch.”

Izuku gives Kacchan a look for being deliberately obtuse.

“I’ll order in for you, then,” Kacchan offers.

Izuku huffs and pushes himself away from his comfortable spot against Kacchan’s broad chest. “Not good enough, Kacchan! We organised a lunch date, so I am getting a lunch date. Now.” Izuku sticks out his chin and dares Kacchan to say no.

Eyes lock. Izuku stares with determination, burying his will into impenetrable crystal red and steadfastly ignoring their alluring pull. Kacchan makes an aborted noise in the back of his throat, as if he was about to say something stupid but thought better of it, and finally sighs.

“Half an hour.”

Izuku smiles sweetly. “Two. You’re late, so you’ve accrued interest.”

Kacchan decides to focus on their negotiations over Izuku’s mockingly business-like tone: “Forty-five is the best you’re going to get from me.”

“An hour, not including travel time, or I’ll get our contract from your room and tear it up myself.” Izuku juts out a petulant lip. He’d never do it, but it gets his point across—Izuku isn’t budging on this.

Kacchan stares hard for a moment, then sags and rests his head in the crook of Izuku’s neck. “You’re such an annoying little shit,” he murmurs, warm against Izuku’s skin.

Izuku hides his smile in Kacchan’s hair and holds him tight. Another victory secured.

/-/

The cafe is a relaxing, familiar space for Izuku. He’s been a regular since before his arrangement with Kacchan began, and when it breached the confines of Kacchan’s highrise office, it was only natural Izuku would drag Kacchan to his favourite little spot.

After enough of their regular visits, the staff have stopped staring at Kacchan and his crisp suits and shiny Rolex watches, and they interact more or less normally with the pair when they stop by.

They place their orders, as usual, and Kacchan pays, as usual, before they settle in their favourite corner, waiting for drinks and food.

Izuku relaxes into his plush chair. He breathes in happiness, the scent of sugar and coffee and Kacchan’s handsome cologne, and breathes out his worries. He’s already plotting ways to extend the hour he was so graciously granted.

On the table before him is a generous slice of cake, which is ‘not a meal,’ according to Kacchan, but Izuku wanted it and he doesn’t care what Kacchan has to say about it. Kacchan is still waiting on his own food; some kind of salmon dish, which is about the fanciest thing he might be able to get his hands on at a casual place like this.

Before Kacchan can grouse at Izuku further, Izuku digs into his treat with no regard for manners, or as Kacchan calls them, “basic fucking social etiquette.” Whenever Kacchan attempts to spout this particular kind of bullshit, Izuku rather enjoys pointing out the hypocrisy of Kacchan of all people criticising other people’s social graces.

Izuku glances at Kacchan and licks his lips before he fills his mouth with fluffy, sugary goodness, making eye-contact with him as he lets out an exaggerated moan. “So good,” Izuku takes care to lick his lips and smiles, warm and sweet like molten honey.

Kacchan rolls his eyes, but he swallows like his mouth is dry. “You’re a damn menace, you little brat,” he says hoarsely, despite the way his eyes have been stuck on Izuku’s lips since he licked them.

“Hey!” Izuku kicks out with all the gentleness of a fussy toddler, landing a solid kick on Kacchan’s shin. “Don’t be mean. You would’ve missed our lunch date altogether if I hadn’t dragged you here.” Izuku tilts his head and gives an Oscar-worthy kicked-puppy pout.

“Deku…” Kacchan obviously misses the point of his pouting by a mile, because now he just looks sad, and that is not what Izuku was going for! “I’m sorry I forgot, baby. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, it’s just...”

“You’re busy,” Izuku finishes for him, and leans across the table to (affectionately) swat his dumb boyfriend’s head. “I know. I’m not mad, but I do want your attention right now, so cut out the sadness and shower me with compliments like you’re supposed to.”

This earns a snort of laughter from Kacchan, who finally catches on and plays along with their usual game. His whole face brightens with his smile. “Ah yes, of course, dear. How could I spend even a second not overwhelming you with compliments?”

Izuku nods seriously. “Exactly. I’m just so shocked. You should know better than to neglect me by now,” Izuku winks, “Daddy.”

Kacchan makes a point of rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling broadly now, all teeth and crinkled eyes. “Alright, you’ve made your point, asshole. Eat your stupid cake already.”

/-/

Once they’ve eaten, and the redundant alarm Kacchan had set goes off, they return to the car. It’s time for Izuku to execute his plan.

Before Kacchan can put his belt on like the square he is, Izuku swings a leg over his lap and wraps himself around his boyfriend. Kacchan raises a questioning eyebrow before Izuku makes his demand: “Take me shopping.”

Kacchan smacks his head back against the headrest dramatically. “You have my card. I’ll have the driver drop you off wherever you want to go, okay?”

“I said take me shopping, not send me. You have to be there or there’s no use! Kacchan needs to come with me.”

Kacchan looks sad, then, and the stupid man has apparently learnt a thing or two from Izuku, because he’s got the bestest, heart-wrenchingest puppy-dog eyes without even trying. Resting his forehead against Izuku’s, Kacchan sighs softly against his lips. “You know I spend as much time as I can with you, baby. I can only ignore my work for so long, for you.”

Izuku aches, sudden and raw. “Oh, Kacchan… I know you’re busy, you work so hard! Kacchan really is amazing. But sometimes I want to be selfish and snatch up more of your time. You put too much pressure on yourself at work. You have so many employees so you don’t have to run yourself in the ground.”

“There are things my employees can’t do-”

“Like stopping you from working yourself to death? Right, that’s my job.” Izuku wiggles in Kacchan’s lap and captures his lips in a whisper-soft kiss. “So let me take care of you.” Izuku flutters his eyelashes and pulls his trump card. “Please, Daddy?” he asks, words sugar-sweet on his lips.

Cheeks glowing a suspicious strawberry red, Kacchan huffs and grabs Izuku by the waist, easily picking him up off his lap and depositing him on the seat next to him. He waits patiently for Kacchan to break, all the while butterflies dance in Izuku’s belly at his Daddy’s casual display of strength.

“The hell do you need so badly anyway?”

Truthfully, Izuku has no idea what he would wish to buy. Spoiled as he is, there are few things he’s wanted through life that he doesn’t now own, thanks to Kacchan. “I saw this gorgeous lingerie set and I just have to try it on before I buy it. And I need you there to tell me how good it looks,” Izuku states matter-of-factly.

Kacchan clears his throat and pinches Izuku’s cheek. “Fine. Let’s go look at this lingerie, then, baby.”

/-/

Izuku drags Kacchan out of the car by his hand and refuses to let go even after they’ve made it inside the shopping center.

“Come on, come on, I wanna see what this store has!” With Kacchan in tow, Izuku makes a beeline for his favourite lingerie store.

Izuku chatters away as he makes his way up and down the store, fluttering about pretty displays and shiny, luxurious lingerie sets hung up on the walls. He semi-consciously gives Kacchan a consistent stream of observations, rhetorical questions and mumbled postulations about what Kacchan might like best. He picks out half a dozen sets in just a few minutes, handing each one over to Kacchan for him to judge and/or hold like a handsome sentient display rack.

Soon enough, Kacchan flags down someone from the store to do the grunt work for him as he follows Izuku around the store like a loyal dog, face warring between fondness and annoyance.

Izuku is quite certain that the fondness far outweighs the annoyance, though. Izuku is, after all, impossible to hate.

After completing one circuit of the store, Kacchan interrupts Izuku before he can begin on a second. “What happened to the ‘one’ set you wanted, huh?” The man crosses his arms like a brute, biceps flexing handsomely as he pours disapproval into the question.

Izuku tuts at him. “There’s nothing wrong with browsing. Just look at how pretty this one is!” Izuku pulls out the dainty belt and harness set he was looking at, wiggling it around for Kacchan’s judgment.

“Mm,” Kacchan acknowledges, carefully collected as he judges the set. With his nod of approval, Izuku gleefully adds it to his soon-to-be-towering pile of things to try on, heedless of the fact that Kacchan immediately passes it off to the poor retail worker trailing after them.

Kacchan crosses his arms. “Don’t think I don’t realise what you’re doing, baby boy.”

Izuku ought to feel sheepish at being caught out so easily, but it’s to be expected when he’s trying to con Kacchan. Instead, he tilts his head and bats his big, round eyes, the perfect picture of innocence. “But Daddy, what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Kacchan crosses his arms, but Izuku’s got him there. Kacchan wants to see Izuku in this lingerie just as much as Izuku wants to try them on. And if all of this has the bonus of Izuku keeping Kacchan to himself for a little longer, then they don’t need to talk about that, really.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Kacchan says, and Izuku giggles, wrapping his arms around his Daddy’s neck.

“I can think of a few reasons,” he laughs. “Now come tell me how pretty I look in these!”

/-/

The driver has to help them get everything into the car. As soon as they’re in, Kacchan orders the driver to start the car and get them back to his work quickly.

It’s cute that Kacchan thinks they’d be going anywhere near his office if not for Izuku allowing it.

“Are you satisfied now, brat?” Kacchan asks, pulling on his seatbelt only after the car has started moving (ooh, rebellious).

Izuku hums. He takes a long few moments to rearrange the copious amount of bags around him, just because he can. He pretends to think very hard about it before nodding exaggeratedly. “Yes, I think I am. For today, at least.”

When Kacchan groans, Izuku shuts him up with a kiss, and they smile like kids in love against each other’s lips.

/-/

Deku seems to have tuckered himself out during their shopping trip, which is understandable considering the sheer amount of clothes he insisted he try on before making Katsuki buy everything for him. He spends the car ride back draped over Katsuki’s side, giving a docile little mumble every now and then when he sees a dog on the sidewalk or a pretty flower that apparently reminds him of Katsuki’s eyes.

(How can the fucker get even cuter than usual just because he tired himself out being a whiny brat all day? How is that fair at all to Katsuki’s heart? Not to mention his wallet...)

(It’s not like Katsuki can’t afford it, but damn, lingerie is surprisingly fucking expensive.)

Katsuki carefully shakes Deku awake when they arrive, because he has learnt the hard way that if he leaves Deku to doze or wakes him too quickly, there will be hell to pay. So he accepts Deku’s blindly groping hand into his own and leads him into the building, where Izuku says something vague about harassing his friend in reception and stumbles off, bleary-eyed.

Katsuki has some interns come down and transfer Deku’s things into his private car so he can attempt to get some work done before Deku makes it upstairs. Deku usually settles down after a few hours of monopolising Katsuki’s time and attention, but with the mood he’s in today, Katsuki doesn’t like his chances of getting anything else done.

He’s gotten as far as opening up an email from a partner company when the door clicks open and Deku sashays in like he owns the place.

And, okay. Katsuki owns the place, and Deku has him wrapped around his pinky finger, so he does own the place in every way but name. But only Katsuki is allowed to know that, god damn it.

“You look like a bumbling fawn like that,” Katsuki informs him, just to see Deku’s sleepy eyes flash with indignation, and watch his cheeks glow a pretty, flustered pink.

Deku’s response doesn’t disappoint, and his nose even scrunches up like a disgruntled bunny, but Katsuki’s gone and shot himself in the foot because now Deku is stomping up to him in a way that says he means business. Deku collapses heavily and claims the space of Katsuki’s lap, steadfast in the fact that it is his and his alone.

Deku slaps him petulantly on the chest. “Meanie,” he mumbles, and curls up on Katsuki’s lap, nestling his head beneath his chin and settling against him, a puzzle piece slotted perfectly in its place. “I’m tired,” Deku says, as if that isn’t obvious already.

Kastuki huffs, presses a feather-soft kiss to the crown of his head. “Just rest, idiot.”

“‘Mkay Daddy…”

Katsuki strokes his fingers through the softness of Izuku’s hair and cradles him as Deku’s body relaxes into Katsuki’s own. “Good boy,” he murmurs.

Pressed tenderly together, Deku continues babbling quietly to fill the peaceful sunset air. Katsuki nods along and holds his baby securely in his arms until he floats off into sleep.

Clack clack clack. With a watchful eye on Deku, lovely and sleep-soft against his chest, Katsuki quietly gets back to work.

[xiaonesis]

Lover’s Silence (Reader x Kuroo)

A/N: Took a break from writing commissions to bang this out for a friend who is going through a tough patch. They wanted fluff, but I haven’t had the time or mental capacity to read fics for at least half a year so I don’t know any.....

So what does a self-proclaimed writer like me do? I write one.

I hope this will bring a bit of comfort to them; even a little is fine. Things will get better in due time, they always do. Hang in there.

To whoever else that reads this and needed it too, I also hope this can comfort you; even if just a little.

Pairing: Reader x Kuroo Tetsurou

Tags: Fluff and Comfort, not beta read, I literally just smashed this out over a late dinner but I hope my thoughts and what I want to say translates

WC: 1.1k

Kuroo looks at the bedroom, through a little gap in the door from which he can see you huddled in layers of blankets, lying on the bed on your side, listlessly staring at your phone. You’ve been there for the past several hours. 

It’s rare that he sees you like this.

You’re loud, obnoxiously so, and he’s used to the sounds of your cackling filling the hallways of your home, snarky jabs thrown at him here and there like flying bullets, which he will defend against with his own shield of irony and humor. Somedays, it feels like war in this tiny apartment he shares with you.

But you’ve been quiet the past day or so, the war has turned cold. 

Kuroo never once thought the day would come where he wanted you to tear him a new one but here it is. 

He doesn’t know what’s wrong, you haven’t told him.

A teeny, leetle, part of him might be a bit miffed that you did not open up to him but…

He gets it.

He will never push you, never prod you for information. 

You will come to him on your own accord if you want to, and when -if- you do, he will listen. He will listen like he has never before, listen as if it will be the last time he will hear your voice. He might tell you to pipe it down on some nights but he honestly loves your voice.

Loves listening to it and whatever bullshit you’re babbling. You can talk about literal poop and he’ll think it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said.

But if you don’t want to tell him, don’t want to say anything...that’s okay too.

He will listen to the sound of your breathing instead, the occasional puffs that escape your lips when something on the screen amuses you, or the little sniffles you make when it is something that saddens you, perhaps a puppy getting kicked. Maybe the sniffles are also caused by whatever is troubling you.

He will listen to the shuffling of blankets when your legs move, the creaking of the bed when you shift your weight, the clinking of metal as you eat the meal he brought to your bedside. Listen to the padding of your feet as you make your way to the shower, to the laundry- even in your current state, you can never forgive any germs.

You and Sakusa would absolutely bond, he thinks.

Kuroo will listen to all of the wordless sounds you make, and think they are just as beautiful as the sound of your voice.

Because it lets him know, without a doubt, that you’re here.

That you’re trying, that you’re fighting.

And when you come back from your battles, he will be there.

To make sure that you never forget that, he gives you your space, but also refills the bottle on the bedside table for you without saying anything. He dries the laundry when it’s done, before you have a chance to finish the episode you’re currently watching. 

He prepares your favorite foods for brunch (yeah, no breakfast by the time the two of you wake up), second lunch, and dinner, even if eating like kings for every meal might be a strain. Because what’s the point of saving all that money if he can’t even use it to comfort his most important person when you need it most?

So there he is, bringing a plate of food to you. He was about to place it on the bedside table and leave you to your own privacy but you peek out from underneath the blankets and his hoodie, blinking tiredly.

Your hair is a mess, and he thinks you might have had another late night again. Usually, this would prompt Kuroo to tell you that you look like a wild animal- and you do. But he couldn’t help but smile instead, the sight of you finally looking up from your screen warming him.

“I brought you dinner,” he says.

You glance at the plate, a little shine flickering in your eyes at the sight of your favorite food for dinner tonight as well. You purse your lips, then quietly shift to the side.

Kuroo understood your signal without you needing to say anything. He takes a seat, sliding under the blankets next to you. 

Automatically, naturally, used to it as the two of you are, you settle into his arms, back to his chest, and he pulls the sheets over your bodies just the way you like it, making sure the drooping ends do not get in the way of your hundredth rerun of this particular video.

He watches it with you, gently rubbing your back all the while. It’s comforting, the rhythmic pattern seemingly to say ‘it’s okay.’

It is when his eyes are drooping and he is about to fall into slumber when he hears your voice for the first time in two days. Maybe more, he wasn’t counting.

“Thanks.”

He smiles even if you can’t see it and kisses the back of your head.

“Sorry for all the trouble,” you continue, mumbling.

Kuroo rolls his eyes. He tucks his chin over your shoulder and into your neck, using your head as a pillow. 

“What trouble?”

You didn’t say anything in response but it’s okay because he sees the tiny smile reflected on your screen.

Peaceful silence envelops the two of you once more, save for the sounds emanating from the video. He sees that your battery is about to run out and makes a mental note to grab your charger later. Dropping another kiss to your head, Kuroo untucks himself from you and the bed.

You let him go without qualm, looking over your shoulder when you hear the click of the door, signaling he has left you to your devices (literally) for the night.

His presence was welcomed, but so is this silent love he gives you. 

Sometimes, you think you’re the luckiest person in the world because of this very reason.

Touch and words of comfort are wonderful, but there is something significantly profound in the way Kuroo watches over you from a distance. Most days he will be all over you, poking and prodding at your sides for a reaction, so this isn’t the norm for him. And it only further endears him to you. 

Words are important tools of communication. 

But Kuroo doesn’t need words from you to understand. And even if he didn’t understand, he did not need them still.

And that knowledge is enough to warm your heart, healing it, even if just a little, from the other hurts; shielding you even when he’s not physically there. 

Because you know you’ve found the proverbial love that everyone is always searching for, in this unspoken sacred silence.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Saving Rosie

Part One of Two: “I’m Not A Spy.”

Rosie Betzer x Reader

Words: 5,768

Warnings: WWII (and everything that comes with that era), Nazis, spy shit, arguing, alludes to execution, sadness... I think that may be it.

Request: No.

Summary: You save the woman you have grown close to over the past few years you have been undercover as a Nazi general, and now you’re going to save her family.

A/N: Me, still broken after watching Jojo Rabbit almost a year and a half ago?? It’s more likely than you think... so, apparently I write Rosie Beltzer fics now lol

Also, just some lil notes. The reader in this is undercover as a male Nazi general, and they’re not actually German in this fic.

EDIT: I accidentally tagged this as a Natasha fic lmao. I fixed it now tho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

***

"It's a lovely night for it, huh?"

For what? You weren't 

certain. Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe, it was the clear sky. The deserted streets, perhaps... what loomed in the following days to come.

Or maybe, just maybe. It was the woman by your side.

The woman hummed, a small sweet smile caressing her face.

"One of the better ones we've had in years. Came her strong German accent. A stark difference to yours, considering you no longer had to mask it. Around her, anyway.

Your smile mirrored hers as it brightened.

"It sure is."

"I can't believe it's almost over. And after so long..." she said, while you grunted, sitting down beside her on the small roof over the open attic window. "This unjust war is finally coming to an end."

"Okay, you're starting to sound like my commander now."

Rosie chuckled at your words, moving to softly lean into your side, keeping her head up to continue looking at the bright white stars that littered the midnight blue sky.

"Why do you always insist on meeting up here?" you grumbled, no malice in your voice, "It's a pain in the ass to get up onto the roof, from the outside, y'know?"

"You're a spy, aren't you? Aren't you supposed to be good at this stuff?"

"Oh cheeky," you laughed, lightly slapping the side of her leg, with the back of your hand. Rosie's quiet giggles following your remark, "And I'm an undercover soldier. Those are two very different things."

"Still." She shrugged.

You sat in silence for a small while. Over the few years, you and Rosie had grown close. Meeting up on her rooftop, at the dead of night, where there was no chance of anyone seeing you together, this way, becoming an almost every day occurrence.

You knew you could trust her the moment you first met, almost three years ago. After you had stolen the identity of a Nazi officer, that looked starkly like you. Luckily, there was hardly any information about this person. So, there was less chance for your cover to be blown.

Soon, the resistance that Rosie had been deeply a part of was un-earthed to you, thanks to your informant and the letter she carried. It wasn't long after that you started working with them too. Helping them better than they could ever hope, thanks to the military resources and information you brought.

"What happened to your neck?" Rosie asked, pulling you out from where you were, deep in your memories.

A hand came up to rub at your slightly sore skin.

"My informant can be cruel..."

Rosie cocked a blonde eyebrow at you, wanting an explanation from you.

You sighed, getting ready to tell her.

***

Eyes burned into the woman from all sides as her heels kicked against the polished wooden, yet stained, floor. Her light brown hair shone under the glowing lights, confidence radiating from her just the same.

"Can I help you?" a German Soldier slid in front of her, she had to stop herself from sneering at the man. For both his being a Nazi and his sweaty stench. But instead, she managed a sultry smirk.

"I'm here to see your General," she replied, in a German accent.

"Don't bother," another Soldier, this one drunk and slightly swaying, called over, from where he was pressed into the wall a few feet behind her.

"I don't think your General would take too kindly to you stealing what they paid for."

"They're gonna have fun with you," he replied, blatantly looking her up and down. Like a wolf would, to a tiny bunny, ready to devour it whole. However, the wolf was not a wolf at all, the wolf was, in fact, the bunny, and the bunny was the actual wolf.

She would tear him to shreds, given the chance.

"The General is in the usual room," the original man said, "Fair warning, though. They're not in a good mood today."

The woman began strutting down the hallway, once again. Throwing, "Aren't they always?" over her shoulder once she passed him by.

When she opened the thick wooden door you resided behind, the sounds of your continued groan began pouring through the crack.

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you got this assignment," she uttered in her original London accent, with her back pressed against the now-closed door.

You finished your groan off and took a deep breath before you uttered your reply.

"Luck-of-the-draw, I guess," you spoke from the floor where you lay on your back, with a shrug, "That, or I look strikingly alike the guy who died. The Nazi prick."

She walked over to you, one foot rising to press her heel into your neck, your thyroid resting in the open space of the shoe.

A choking noise sprang from your mouth as you flailed your limbs around gently. You knew that if she were to press any harder, she would surely manage to choke you.

"You're not suited for this job."

The brunette pressed harder against your throat before she released you. Leaving you to turn on your side, coughing and spluttering.

"Well, no shit. I'm a soldier, not a spy."

"You can tell."

"What was that all about?" You motioned to your neck. Red marks already making their way upon the tender flesh.

"We need to make it seem like we are having sex. Remember? I am supposed to be your hooker after all."

"You're a bitch, is what you are."

She scowled at you as you rolled yourself onto your stomach, sighing when you finally got to your feet.

"Where's the update?"

You hummed, almost as if you were remembering what you were here to do. Removing the crystal tumbler from your lips the whisky sloshing around inside. Reaching behind you, you pulled the file from where it was tucked into your pants and under your shirt. Handing it over to her.

"Is this it?" She asked, weighing the file in her hand, "It's very light."

"Yeah, and so's the information swimming around. Unless you wanna hear about the fish Agatha caught last weekend," you snarked back, moving to point at the file with the same hand that held your glass, "There's some good stuff in there. It's not much. But it's good."

"I'll take your word for it."

She tucked the folder into the long overcoat she wore, then you saw her eyebrows furrow.

"Aren't you supposed to take care of that?" She nodded towards the uniform jacket you had thrown across the room not long after you had entered it.

"You sneered at the fore-talked about item.

"I hate it and everything it stands for." You turned back to face her. "As soon as all of this bullshit is over, I'm burning that fucking armband. And then the rest of the fucking uniform."

"Real calm there, aren't you?"

"Don't start shit with me, Hannah." You took a large swig of your drink, almost emptying the glass. "I know that you wish you had somehow gotten this mission. But trust me, you don't fucking want it. The shit I've seen and done. The stuff that I've had to authorise, just to keep my cover. The fucking horror storied these monsters have told proudly, or as if they're fucking jokes." You were panting now. "You don't want that."

You had her startled into silence. Hannah had never expected this to come from you.

"How's the resistance?"

You grunted. Downing the rest of the brown liquor before moving to pour yourself another glass three fingers tall.

"It's going." you gave a heavy nod. "Still trying to spread the word."

Hannah hummed, slowly making her way towards you. Fingers coming up to razzle her hair, and wipe her lipstick, so it smudged onto her cheek.

"How's the blonde?"

"What-?" you were cut off when she wiped the red lipstick on her fingers across your own lips, leaving a smudge like hers there. "Ugh," you groaned, moving away from her palm, only to utter small obscenities and sounds of pain when her lipstick freehand messed up your short, slicked-back hair.

"What blonde?" you finally managed to ask.

"The one from the resistance. What's her name?" She clicked her fingers together, in realisation, "Rosie."

"Oh! Yeah, she's fine, and so are the kids."

"You seem to be taking a shine to her, from what I hear from the resistance. You and Rosie seem to be something of a dynamic duo."

Suddenly your shirt was ripped open, from the collar to your ribs. Making your eyes widen in shock.

However, you were used to this by now, so they soon returned back to their regular size.

"Yeah, we're friends."

Hannah hummed, something akin to a knowing smirk on her face. As she untucked your shirt.

"I'd keep an eye on her, though."

She opened your pants.

"She's being watched."

Breathless at what she just said, you stood stock still, watching as she walked towards the wooden door.

"Oh." Hannah stopped, her hand upon the handle, pulling some pieces of paper from her pocket and threw them to the floor, "I'll leave you to deliver the bad news."

And with that, she left.

***

You forewent telling Rosie everything from the mention of her.

Thinking it the best if she heard it differently.

"That really sounds like a spy meeting to me," Rosie said with a smirk, knowing it would annoy you to no end.

You closed your eyes before you could roll them into the back of your head. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled, "I'm not a spy."

"So, you've said," she giggled.

"You're drunk," you mumbled to yourself.

"What was that?"

"How are the kids?" you asked, clearly watching as Rosie groaned lightly. Her head down-turned, almost sad looking.

"Jojo's still obsessed with Hitler and everything. And Elsa's doing her best. But I can tell how much this is affecting her. And in what world wouldn't it?"

"She's strong." You nodded. "She'll get through it. We all will."

"And what about Jojo?"

Rosie turned to face you, hair swaying as she did. You could see the glazed look in her eye's, telling yourself to be extra vigilant with the woman upon the roof. You had to make sure she didn't fall off in her drunken state.

"Is he going to be like this for the rest of his life?"

Tears were building in her eyes now.

"Supporting evil dictators, wanting to take over the world, and fill it with hate?"

"No. No, of course not," you whispered. Reaching over, you clasped her cheeks between your rough, war-hardened hands. Wiping away her silent tears. "He's just a boy. A boy who wants to be a part of something, even if he doesn't understand what that is. What monster's he's following. He will realise one day. Trust me."

"I trust you." She nodded. "It just. It's hard. It's so hard. Especially when he plays up, like he did at dinner today."

"He did?"

She hummed with a nod.

"We're low on food right now. I had to go without to feed Elsa. But Jojo, he didn't know, obviously, so he took that too. Then he started arguing about his father-"

You inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. But luckily for you, she didn't notice your reaction.

"-I yelled at him... we made up not long after, but I still feel awful about it. I'm a terrible mother."

"No, you're not-"

"I am-"

"No. You're not," you said firmly. Grabbing her forearm, gently moving it side to side, to get your point further across, "You're such a caring and amazing person. Your heart is so big and kind. And you're an even better mother. It's like all of that is doubled for those kids."

"Thank you," Rosie whispered, tears in her eyes once again, before she moved to wipe them away.

"Anyway, you're way better than my mother. She abandoned me at a farm. I was lucky a cow didn't shit on me."

She giggled at your little joke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"There's no need. I wouldn't change it."

Things were quiet for a few minutes when you suddenly remembered.

"Oh!" You reached into your pocket and pulled out three packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied together with string. "I guess it was just lucky that I brought these then."

"What are they?"

"Beef sandwiches, I thought you would like them."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver," she spoke in something close to a moan as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

You gave a small chuckle at the woman seated beside you, "I'd thought you'd say that. I'll have to start bringing food over to these meetings of ours because it's not like I can do it out in the open."

"People would think something was going on between us," Rosie hummed.

"You're right about that. Everyone is so bored around here. Gossip is like their life sauce."

"Would you be surprised if I told you that it was the same before the war?"

"Not at all," you laughed.

Rosie finished her sandwich, and you dreaded what was coming next.

"I need to tell you something," you almost whispered.

She bumped her shoulder against yours when you didn't continue.

"Well? What is it?"

"It... it's about your husband..."

You watched her carefully as you said that, all the while emotions, flew into her while she processed them.

She held back more tears, ones from the look on her face that she had shed more times than she could count. Face contoured into one of concealed pain. Looking away from your gentle, caring eyes while rubbing her hands together.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." You nodded, looking out before you, into the starry night sky.

That's when you felt a tiny jolt beside you. Looking over at the blonde, you watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered.

With a gasp and a wet sniff, Rosie wiped her tears away.

"What happened?"

"There was a raid, some members of a resistance was there, your husband included. None of them made it... they saved the people they intended to, however."

She nodded with a sad yet proud smile.

"How long ago was this?"

You swallowed. Hating the words you were about to say.

"A little over a year ago."

You winced when you heard her sobs, ones being held in so hard just so no one could overhear her cries.

And, sickeningly so, the worst thing of all was that you didn't know how to help her.

Placing a hand upon her back, rubbing small comforting circles into her shoulder. Feeling her lean into you, face now pushed into your neck.

"I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

You left not too long later, after already spending way too much time up on that roof.

Rosie wished you a "goodbye" with the promise that she would be fine. However, she didn't reply to you when you told her not to finish the rest of the wine. That she had been pounding for the majority of the day.

Before you arrived "home" and promptly collapsed onto the bed.

***

The afternoon sun was warm upon your face as you walked the streets of the German town. Watching as children ran around, women worked, and well, gossiped, and Nazi soldiers came and went.

Soon. You thought. This will all be over soon.

That's when you heard the murmured words from the women you had just walked past.

"Yes, the Gestapo. They're here right now."

"Who for?" the other woman asked, voice slightly higher at the aspect of such "juicy" gossip.

Sometimes it surprised you just how detached some of these people were from human lives. But then you took a step back and saw everything that was happening in the world. And you weren't surprised anymore. Just disappointed.

"The traitors wife. Beltzer."

And now you were scared.

"-They should be taking her to the square, right now."

It was like the world had slowed down as you turned to look at them, meeting their curious eyes.

The last thing you heard before taking off at a run towards the town square was a fading, "Like husband, like wife. I guess."

The people you passed by looked at you like you were insane. To see a, what they thought, General, sprinting down streets and panting like crazy, it set them on edge.

But you didn't give a damn about what anybody thought.

You just had to get to the square.

And quick.

***

By the time you got there, you had a light shine over your skin. Thanks to the sweat from both the running you had done and the worry that coursed through you.

"Remove your hands from her," came your faux German accent.

"She is a traitor to the Reich," one of the Gestapo's, seemingly the leader, replied assuredly.

"And what proof do you have of this?"

Rosie was terrified. You could see that as clear as day, no matter how she tried to keep calm. It was written all over her face.

So, you forcefully pushed their hands from the heavily breathing woman and pulling her to stand by your side and away from the group of men dressed in black suits.

"I'll have you know, we have very probable tips from some of the community-"

""Probable"?!" you shouted, causing the on edge woman beside you to jump slightly. To which you pulled her closer to you as a form of comfort. Your hand, coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Yes. Probable. We cannot have risks."

"Well, I say that it is bullshit."

"You have no jurisdiction or authority over our department."

"And I never said I did. I am saying that I vouch for this woman."

"But the tip-off's-" another man began.

"You choose to believe lonely and bored housewives over a General?!" You watched as their faces fell, and they tried to grab onto any straw they could to change your mind.

"There is still a chance-"

"There is no chance!"

"And can you be so sure?!"

"Do you really believe that I, a General, would be with her if you were right?"

"With her?" a third Gestapo asked curiously.

You knew what you had to do to get her back home, safe and away from the men trying to execute and make a spectacle of her. Just like the poor people hanging to your right.

"It means that I have been seeing her. Romantically, if you still do not fully understand, what I mean."

They didn't say anything for a few short moments, only stumbling and stuttering over their own voices.

"So, tell me. Who are you choosing to believe?"

"Uh. Y-You General."

"Good." You nodded once. "Now, I'm going to take her home. Goodbye, gentlemen," you spat. Turning on your heel, with Rosie under your arm, and walking away.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. Not drawing any attention to yourself or Rosie.

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied in the same way.

"I wouldn't have done anything else." Your hand slipped down to the blondes dip in her lower back, helping to guide her back home. "Where are the flyers? Did you have any on you?"

"Yes. I threw them down the drain before they could see."

"Good. You did good." A squeeze to her hip before your hand returned to her lower back, just to keep up the appearance of the lie. "They're not gonna find them."

***

Rosie had relaxed more by the time you were at the bottom of her street when you saw a distinctly expensive car parked outside of Rosie's house. A car that everyone knows belongs to that of Gestapo's.

"Is Jojo home?" you asked, just stood there starring at the sight, with Rosie by your side.

"Yes," she husked.

"Shit."

And that's when you both broke out in a run.

You, being faster than Rosie, arrived at the building first. Barging through the door, with her hot on your heels.

Pounding your way up the stairs, only to come face to face with a gang of men, identically dressed to the Gestapo's, you had just saved Rosie from. Along with Jojo and Elsa, in clothes that didn't look like they belonged to her. Not to mention the demoted soldier, holding an identification book.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"What are you doing in my house?!" you and Rosie said at the same time. Your yell angrier, compared to her more so worried one.

"We are searching the premises," the lead man, who wore round glasses, spoke. Face confused as to why Rosie was still alive. But as soon as he saw the anger chiselled upon your face. He could take a successful guess as to who had stopped the execution.

"Mama, they were just checking Inge's identification," Jojo said as his mother rushed towards him. Her hands, on his cheeks, as she checked him over.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Rosie pulled Jojo along to bring Elsa into her side, just as you had done for her mere minutes ago. "Are you both alright?"

She gained words and nods of confirmation from the two children.

"I think it's time that you all left."

"But-" one Gestapo said, looking to Rosie.

"But nothing," you continued, "I'm sure your associates will fill you in on their mistake. Now, if you are finished, I ask that you leave this house."

"We were just about to, anyway," the leader said, leading the way out for everyone. But not before the ID was handed back to the assumed Inge. With you trailing after, to slam the door behind them.

You turned, leaning your back against the wooden door, sighing deeply.

"Are they gone?" Rosie called down, leaning over the railing, to peer down at you.

The stairs creaked below you, the layer of carpet doing nothing to quiet them. You spoke your confirmation, as you reached her, "They're gone."

The kids looked like they had just been caught with their hand's in the cookie jar.

"So..." the caring woman started, "You two know about each other."

They nodded.

"For how long?"

"A couple of weeks, at most," Jojo said.

"How did you even find out about her?"

"I-I found the hatch-"

"He crawled in-"

"And I found her-"

"He was terrified."

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Okay, enough," Rosie raised her voice, gaining the bickering children's attention.

Taking a breath, she ran her hands through her soft blonde hair.

"And you never told anyone?"

"No." Jojo shook his head. "I didn't want you to get into trouble..." It was at that point, he realised you were silently stood behind his mother, watching as everything unfolded and who you were.

Rosie caught this and looked over her shoulder at you.

"Don't worry," she told both of the kids, crouching down before them. Elsa's face one of mild terror.

This is when it hit you that these kids were exactly that.

Kids.

Kid's that were too scared of their mothers, or motherly figure, scolding them, than the actual, apparent danger that lurked not too far away.

"They're not going to tell anybody. They know. And won't let anything happen. To any of us." she manoeuvred to face you. "Right?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. I will do my best to protect all of you."

"Speaking of." She slowly rose to her feet, walking towards you.

The hand that Rosie placed upon your arm was gentle, almost like she was worried she would hurt you. Fingers curling into the jacket of the uniform you loathed.

"I have to speak with the General. So, you two stay up here. Understood?"

They nodded.

"Good." She pulled you through the open door, but before she could close it fully, her head popped through the door, "Oh. And we're not done yet. We still have a lot to talk about."

Then the door clicked shut.

"You're really good at that."

"What?"

"Being a mother."

"I know. You've told me before."

***

Things had changed rather quickly when you arrived downstairs.

Sat upon the blue cotton cushions of the wooden framed couch. Watching as Rosie paced around in front of you, fingertips rubbing against her full lips, worry etched across her face.

Your eyebrows shot up, and your body straightened when she turned to face you. Arms now down by her sides.

"So, we're together, huh?"

"I'm sorry," you replied, German accent dropped, "But that was the only thing that would get them to back off and drop the suspicions against you."

"I know." She nodded, completely understanding. Before her minimal composure dropped, and the worry came back. "What do we do? Jojo obviously thinks you are a traitor now. What if he tells someone?"

"He won't." You stood abruptly, taking Rosie's shoulder's into your hands, squeezing them gently. "He didn't tell anyone about Elsa when he had so many chances to do so. Hell, he had the chance, not even five minutes ago. But he hasn't said a word, purely just to keep you safe... he doesn't understand that this could hurt him and Elsa too. He doesn't know what's happening."

"But this is different-"

"Yes, it is different. It's better he thinks I'm a traitor, helping his family, than him knowing I'm an undercover soldier."

"You mean a spy?"

"Don't you start with that shit." You pointed at her playfully.

Rosie's smile dropped when a thought popped into her mind.

"Do you think they will still come back?"

"It is possible," you said honestly, "Which is why we should leave as soon as we possibly can."

"And go where?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

"What do I tell the kids- What do I tell Jojo?" she clarified.

"The truth. You tell them that they could come back and that we all need to leave because we could all be in danger."

With her head in her hand's, the blonde scoffed tearily, "God. This fucking war."

"I know. I know."

You pulled her into your chest, letting her cry into you. Arms wound around your torso tightly.

"I hate it, For so many reasons."

"I know," you repeated again, "I feel the same."

"When will it just end? When will people be safe again?"

Deciding that it would be best to tell her the truth, you said, "I don't know. Soon I hope."

And there you sat, for a small while longer, allowing the blonde to cry into your chest.

***

You had left.

Gone to go gather some of your things, thinking it best to stay with Rosie and the kids while you were forced to stay in town.

All the while Rosie, spoke to the kids about leaving.

"I don't understand why we have to go!"

Was what you were greeted with as you entered the home.

"Because it is not safe for us here anymore," Rosie's voice came, calm but firm.

"But they won't come back."

"That's not entirely true," you spoke, entering the kitchen. Placing the leather bag you carried and the wicker basket upon the small table against the wall, you continued, "There's always a chance, no matter how small."

The young boy watched you silently for a minute. Not knowing what to say.

"Trust me, Jojo. I know how all of this works. I just want to keep you all safe, so does your mother. And this is the best way to do it.2

Jojo sighed.

"Where will we go?"

Rosie looked at you intently when her son asked this, wondering the same thing.

"We'll get out of town first. Then we'll focus on a safe place for us all to go."

"Jojo, would you. Would you go to your room, please?" Rosie asked, "I need to speak with the General, alone."

Just as the blonde boy was about to protest, he was cut off.

"Now. I also have to start preparing dinner."

He huffed and walked from the room, bounding up the stairs rather loudly.

You felt bad for the woman as you watched her grip the sides of the oven, bow her head, and give a great sigh.

"Where's Elsa?"

"She's in her hiding spot." Then she turned to face you. "Y/N, K know that Elsa isn't Inge."

"What?"

"She got Inge's birthday wrong, and he didn't say anything."

Your eye's wandered as you took in the information that was just given to you.

"Do you think he will say anything?"

"I don't know," you said with a shrug, "But I don't wanna take any chances. It's too risky."

"I agree." Rosie nodded once. "So, when do we leave."

"As soon as possible. Tonight if we can. Only pack the essentials. And not yet, we can't raise any suspicions."

Rosie's only reply and indication that she had heard you were a good few nods.

And then.

"What's in the basket?"

"Oh," you said chipperly, "Don't worry about cooking. I brought dinner."

***

Turns out "tonight" wasn't a viable option for skipping town, as with loud, almost deafening sirens of dread filled the sky came the air-raid strike.

"Wouldn't it give us a good cover, though?" Rosie had asked, preparing for bed.

You had resigned yourself to staying over, as a sort of bodyguard, while still in town. And the threat was still very much weighing in the winds.

You looked over your shoulder at her. Being spotted by her through the mirror of her vanity, where she sat. Removing her makeup and then applying some face cream.

"I'm not the only one by a window," you told her. Then moved to peer through the window, at the moving lights in the black, midnight sky. "I'm sure I heard Elsa and Jojo in the attic watching them."

"They are," she confirmed.

"See. We're not the only ones. Too many eyes. A good distraction," you admitted, "But almost impossible. And with two kids added to that? No chance."

A hum came from Rosie.

"So, what are our options?"

With a sigh, you began explaining, "People will be too jumpy tomorrow, so our best bet would be the day after."

The blonde, now ready for bed, came over to you. Moving to stand right in front of you, looking out the window herself.

"Wouldn't it be too risky, staying here that long?"

It seemed it was your turn to hum, shrugging your shoulders.

"I'd rather stay here a few more days than risk it out there. But there is a good side to these change of plans."

"And what's that?"

"Now, we can sneak stuff to the car. And won't risk being caught doing it all at night. That way, all we have to do is get in, then drive off."

"Good plan. Partner," Rosie spoke in a slight mocking about sultry tone. Which only made you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. You're welcome."

"Seriously," you halted at Rosie's serious tone, raising your head to peer at her, "Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me." Your lips ticked up in a small smile before you lightened the sober mood and atmosphere. "And you definitely won't be thanking me if I accidentally kick you in my sleep."

Rosie laughed at your words, watching as you said into bed beside her.

"Do not worry. If you kick me, I'll just kick you out of the bed."

"Now that's just rude."

Waking up the next morning was strange for you, to say the least.

With the bright sun shining through the thin drapes, across the cosy room, and onto the bed. Duvet lumpy above your forms.

And then there was Rosie.

The blonde pressed up against your side, head resting on your shoulder, arms curled around one of yours, still fast asleep.

Now that.

That was very unusual for you.

But then again. You were too sleepy to process anything at that moment. So instead, you just watched her breathe soothingly, looking so peaceful by your side, with your eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted in curiosity.

It was a wonder how someone could look so contest face asleep like Rosie was, with everything that is going on in the world.

The world wouldn't be that way for much longer, you thought, it was only a matter of time before everything was over.

And the same thing could be said for the blonde sleeping by your side.

The wooden door barged open, alerting you fully awake, as Jojo strutted in. Only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of you. In bed. With his mother.

You could see the slight anger in his eyes, purely out of protection for his beloved mother.

"Good morning, Jojo," Rosie said sleepily as she moved to sit up, looking at the boy with a sleepy smile.

You grunted as she pressed her palm into your abdomen to raise up into a seated position.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, nodding his head towards you.

Rosie looked over her shoulder at you, tired eyes evaluating you. Before she turned back to her son.

"There's something I forgot to tell you yesterday."

You watched the mother and child with slightly wide eyes, not uttering a word, just looking like you wanted to escape this situation.

"What did you forget?"

"The General here-" she patted your abdomen where her hand still resided. "-And I, are seeing each other."

It was a few good long moments as Jojo processed the words. You thought he was going to be angry. It would be natural. You would understand. He was a young boy, one who undoubtedly missed his father and would not be happy with his mother being with anyone else.

But you also had to understand that he idolised you, if only for your -albeit fake- position in the German military.

And yet, you were still surprised and confused by what he said next.

"A lion?"

Rosie smiled brightly, nodding her head, "A lion."

"A lion?"

That was the first thing you said that morning, and it was full of confusion.

But it fell on deaf ears.

Jojo nodded once at his mother before turning on his heel and walking from the room, without saying what he initially came in for.

"What?"

Rosie smiled at you.

"Come on, we should get moving."

The bed shook and bounced as she got up from the bed, preparing to get ready for the day.

"I'm so confused," you almost whimpered, only gaining a soft giggle in return.

***

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[kimnjss]

no right answer | knj

⤑  series: plot twist

⤑ pairing: rapper!namjoon x rich girl!reader

⤑ genre: angst... nd that’s pretty much it :/

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 7.7K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: daddy jung makes an appearance... joon still doesn’t know how to communicate. yns feelings are hurt once again. they internally ramble a lot :/ and hoseok has a girlfriend. 

⤑ chapter song: meet me in amsterdam - RINI 

⤑ A/N: heyy! nothing much to say, sooo! enjoy nd let me know what you think x 

MAY 23RD, 2020 | 18:10

The fact that you've shown up on Hyungwon's arm sets your father off way before you're entering the hall. You can tell by the pulsing of the vein above his brow, the grit in his teeth when you pass him, Hyungwon making a show of wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you inside before your father can get a word in.

Although, you're sure he'll find his opportunity at some point tonight.

Just as expected, gossip blog journalists, reports, the regular old press are all lining the front hall, waiting patiently for a word from the man who made this night possible. At least, that's the premise they're hiding under – it was more than obvious that they were silently hoping to witness something, anything that could be a headliner in the morning.

You do as you've been told, smile brightly at everyone that approaches, introduce Hyungwon as a close friend, chat up the new artists that your father's company plan to release in the upcoming months. Words flowing from your lips effortlessly, trained to dodge every prying question, every backhanded compliment. The practiced smile doesn't falter once.

Not even when the demanding flick of the fingers comes from your father across just a few feet away, behind his back of course, out of view from the woman reporter he's chatting with. Summoning you over silently, his first choice nowhere in sight. With a huff, you're politely ending the meaningless babble of the tag on your dress.

Hand pressed lightly to Hyungwon's chest, his arm doesn't drop from around you as the two of you make your way over to your father. Only making it halfway before he's shooing Hyungwon away, with the same discreetness he used to call you over. “I'll meet you inside,” You're mumbling with a roll of your eyes, easily able to guess that he's started his bullshit early.

Hesitant at first, but he's soon releasing you, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head that has the cameras around flashing. Great. The apologetic look on his face washes the scowl from your features. His lips shifting into a sheepish smile while he reaches his hand up to ruffle your perfectly styled hair. That has questions flying from the crowd, demanding to know if the two of you were an item.

“I'll see you inside,” He says with a curt nod of his head, turning to finish his journey into the hall. On his way, he's swept up by a man with a million questions and a mic. No time to worry about that now, instead you take the place beside your father. 

And he pulls this surprised expression as if he didn't expect you to just show up. “Oh, there she is! We've been talking about your new position. Would you like to chime in?” You wouldn't have been asked to 'chime in' if the appropriate response hadn't been hammered into your head on the way over here.

Practiced smile. “It's an honor to work so closely with such great artists. Their work is promising and truly inspiring. We have a lot of plans for them in the future that I'm sure will be nothing short of impressive...” You begin to drown yourself out, thoughtlessly speaking as your eyes wander around the room. Seemingly on their own accord until your sight is fixing on someone.

Okay, not just someone. Namjoon. He looks nice. Although, you can tell he's wearing the same suit that he had worn to Jungkook's release. Did he only have one nice suit? You'd have to make a note of that for... quite literally shaking the thought from your head, you're turning back into the conversation. Laughing at something you don't even find funny. All while stealing glances across the room, not being able to keep yourself from wondering if he was stealing glances too.

He was. Like really bad too. From the moment Joon had stepped into the building, his eyes were finding you. Guided by the loud chatter around you, looking in time to catch the gentle pat of your boyfriend's hand on your head. The way you seemed to melt at the simple touch, he could do that. He was sure of it.

And then he can't tear his gaze off you. While you pull that fake smile of yours, only half-listening to the words that are being said to you. Laughing flatly and leaning into your dad, keeping up with the perfect father/daughter image that he had no idea was an act until he was meeting you. Talking to you. Now it was obvious. Even from across the room, he could tell that you were faking.

That you'd much rather be anywhere else.

“Ah! There's my little prodigy,” Your father speaks loud enough for everyone to hear, just in case they missed the dramatic cheers that echoed the moment he was stepping out of his car. Hoseok was here. A pretty redhead latched to his side, a sight that your father is surprised to see. He hated surprises.

Nevertheless, he's embracing your brother into a tight hug. Which to the press looks like an adorable father and son moment, but you know better. You've been on the receiving end of that hug before and judging from the frown that flashes over Hoseok's features, he's in trouble. But later, of course, there are millions of eyes watching right now – so the interview goes on with loud laughs and large smiles.

And for once, you're not the only one that's faking it.

MAY 23RD, 2020 | 18:49

“Come sit, Yn. Dinner is about to be served,” He doesn't leave any room for argument with the tone that he uses and you find it funny that he thinks that you're not going to try. “No thanks, I'm going to sit with my date,” Hyungwon has found his place amongst the other artists of his status, chatting loosely with them as he waits for you.

A timed twitch of your father's brow, he'd usually rely on Hoseok's easy coaxing to get you to comply without making a scene. But that trick is out of commission. Sat close with his pretty girlfriend, flirting openly. Ooh, the look on your father's face when he was introducing her to reports as his girlfriend. Not an ounce of uncertainty in his voice. 'Her? She's my girlfriend. Ti-lee. Isn't she gorgeous?'.

Didn't even spare a glance in your dad's direction, heart-shaped eyes saved for his girl. Expertly ignoring the subtle glares he was being sent whenever there was a chance. Your brother might be your hero. Seriously.

He's not about to beg you to come sit at the family table with him and Hoseok, that could risk giving away there is a reason why you wouldn't want to sit there in the first place. So instead, he's pushing a tight-lipped smile onto his lips, nodding his head before turning around. Exactly.

Hyungwon stands as you approach, pulling your chair out like a true gentleman. Leaning over to press his lips to your cheek and drop his arm around your shoulders, easily tucking you into his side. “How'd it go? Who's that with your brother?”

“His girlfriend. Can you believe it? Hoseok brought someone that wasn't approved and cleared by our dad first,” The shock in your tone matches the look on his face, which quickly melts into a smile.

A soft chuckle falls from his lips, his head shaking from side to side. “This isn't gonna end well,” His shoulders shake with his laughter, hands reaching to lift his glass. You giggle beside him, knowing all too well how right he is. Whether it was now or later, this was going to explode into a big mess. You were just glad you were in the clear for once.

Dinner starts.

Hoseok is between bites of his Wagyu steak when he's being hit with the dry monotone voice of the man beside him. A tone that he's not at all used to when he's being addressed by his father. It's usually reserved for you. “Where'd you find this girl?” He doesn't even bother to whisper, Ti-lee no doubt hearing him.

“I met her,” He feels it would be a bad idea to say that he met her at a party. Much less a release party held at the company. He knew all too well how his father felt about you mixing work and pleasure, he wasn't going down that lane.

Thankfully, he's not so much interested in the where, but more so the why. Mind reeling with all the upsetting outcomes that can come from this. Some random girl slipping in could potentially ruin everything he carefully constructed for his son's life. He knew first hand how vicious women can be when money's involved. “What does she do?”

“She's a model,” Hoseok's sweating, fumbling for the right string of words that can help him paint Ti-lee in an admirable light. There was nothing wrong with her. She was a great girl, all of the things you'd want your girlfriend to be. But his father's expectations were high, there was no telling what would be a deal-breaker.

He scoffs, head bowed to bring attention back to his plate in front of him. “That's not a real job,” He laughs to himself, head shaking in disbelief. There was no way his son would be so stupid... to think he could be with a model? The field that aged quickly, chewed up and spit out money-grabbing woman chasing youth. Nope, not his son. “We'll talk about this later,”

Putting an end to the conversation before Hoseok can get another word in. He's back to his meal, acting as if he hadn't shaken up his son's entire world. 'We'll talk about this later,'. Never was a good sign. Always met with an ultimatum when it came to you. He tries to act cool, be mindful of the millions of eyes watching at all times. But it's hard to hide the twinge of annoyance souring his face.

It wasn't fair. He didn't even get the chance to introduce Ti-lee properly, give his dad a chance to get to know her. Then he'd understand how easy it is to fall for her, Hoseok stood no chance when it came to her. And he didn't even get to say that, to show him why he just had to bring her around. Present her as his girlfriend, because he was so proud. So proud and his dad didn't even care.

It was not fair.

MAY 23RD, 2020 | 20:17

As the night moves on, Joon finds himself searching for you through the crowd. His eyes find you all throughout dinner, half-listening to the chatter from Taehyung and Yoongi and watching you. Even when you move to dance, hand resting delicately over Hyungwon's bicep, so very clearly showcasing who you're here with tonight. But he can't tear his eyes away.

Left standing as more and more people spread around the hall, busying themselves with light conversation as the musicians play louder for the many people who have decided to move on to the dance floor. You're at the center of them all, smiling prettily up at your boyfriend. Laughing, a very real laugh that he didn't realize he missed until now.

God, he missed you so much. And it was worse because you were right there. Right in front of him, laughing and smiling and being yourself. But he felt like now for some reason, he couldn't be apart of that. That you didn't want him to be because he couldn't get it together. Because he couldn't say what was on his mind.

So, now he was stuck watching you. Admiring you from afar and wishing that it was him in the place of the man you brought tonight. Exclusively. All he wanted was to be yours exclusively. He knew that wouldn't happen so easily... or at all.

“You're actually staring, dude. What's with you?” Hoseok's voice is breaking through his thoughts, two glasses of brown liquor in hand. Hand outstretching in offering, Joon thanks him with a smile and a nod of his head. 

Embarrassingly, pulling his gaze away. He knew he had been doing it but had no idea that it was that obvious. Had you noticed too? Caught him staring while he was so lost in his thoughts of you. Not likely. You hadn't looked his way at all tonight. He was sure of it. “She doesn't look so annoying, tonight.” His shoulders lift in a shrug, that has Hoseok's eyebrows raising.

The number of times he's complained to your brother about how much you bothered him.

Who would've thought this would be the outcome. At first, all he wanted was for you to leave him alone. Bottle up your crush and give him some space so he can concentrate on his work. On what was important and now... now he was dying for a chance to go back. Before things got complicated and he found it hard to say what was on his mind.

It used to be so easy to just tell you to leave him alone, to take part in the back and forth banter that he never really realized was just foreplay. Now, things were so strained and he was the cause of it. Because he had gotten in his own way, confused you and now you were pulling back. As you should.

What was he supposed to do, though? You were with someone, seemingly happy. The way you dealt with relationships and... love, was much different from what he was used to. And he was in no place to ask you to change that for him, just as he wouldn't want you to ask him to change for you.

So then what was left? Leaving each other alone, keeping his feelings bottled up because telling you would only make matters worse. At least, that's what he had thought at first. Thought it would be easy to just pick up and move on without a word, but after that night with you, he should've known there was no turning back. Being close to you like that, of course, he'd want more.

He's barely registering Hoseok's question beside him, between the sips of liquor. “What is she then?” You were a lot of things. Except his. Never realized how devastating that would be until recently. Until you weren't a constant anymore, because he messed up.

And seeing you tonight, in that dress. Legs peaking out with each bold step of your pretty heels. He's felt those legs, wrapped firmly around his waist and beneath his hands. Soft. And warm. A lot like you. How could he not look? When you were right there being everything he wanted, how could he not look?

“She's... kinda sexy.” Eyes widening at his own words, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. “I don't know, it was just an observation,” He rushes out, a light tint taking over his cheeks.

Hoseok laughs, tilting his head to look up at the man beside him. It's funny, despite the height difference, Hoseok still maintains his intimidating aura. Could have anyone quivering with a single glance. Well, anyone would didn't know how sweet and gentle the guy really was. Still, he's got an image to upkeep. “Did you just call my sister sexy?”

Joon is amongst the select few that know the big and scary Jung Hoseok is not as big and scary as he likes to act. So he doesn't falter, much. “She is sexy. I mean, look at her.” He's gesturing to the dance floor, where you're being spun and dipped. “When did that happen? She's never...” Speaking mainly to himself, Joon's words trail off as he watches how good you look when you dance.

“Alright. I feel like I should tell you not to check out my sister right in front of me,” He had been joking at first, but the guy was basically drooling over you. Didn't know if he should provide a handkerchief or rip him a new one. 

Joon's letting out a soft laugh, lifting his glass to take a sip from it. Attention shifting back to his friend. “You're twins. It's like I'm checking you out.” 

This has Hoseok bursting into laughter, a look of disbelief taking over his features. “That does not make it any better!” Despite the warning, his eyes move to find you again. Only to find you're not where he had seen you last and your boyfriend was nowhere insight as you made your way over to where he stood.

A gasp is escaping from Joon's lips before he has a chance to mask it. “Oh God, shut up. She's walking over here,” His hand reaching to hit Hoseok's chest, signaling for him to straighten up as he does the same. “Quick. Pretend I said something funny,”

He's not granted the laughter that he expects, instead, a confused expression takes over Hoseok's features as his sister approaches. “Our father would like to speak with us upstairs,” You don't even spare a glance in Joon's direction.

“What for?” You shrug. Of course, you wouldn't know something like that. You never knew the reason behind random summoning, just grew accustomed to despising them. “We can go when Ti-Lee comes out of the bathroom,” He's really doubled down on this girlfriend thing, it seemed.

With a nod, you turn to walk away. The familiar sound of Joon's voice stopping you, “You look pretty, Yn.” You hate the way your heart instantly reacts to the compliment. The three words that you've been hearing all night because of course, you'd look pretty. But for some reason, it feels different coming from him.

But, you wouldn't allow yourself to be swooned by that. He's made it clear where he stands when it comes to you. “Thanks. My date thinks so too,” It's sad how you enjoy the annoyed expression that flashes over his features, quickly being masked by surprise.

“Oh. You brought a date?” As if he didn't know. As if he hadn't spent the majority of the night watching you. So obviously, too. Did he think you wouldn't pick up on it? Though, you'll play along. “Mhm. Hyungwon. He's over there,” You point him out with an outstretched arm, leaning against the bar with the task of getting you a drink. 

Most times, Namjoon was pretty good at keeping his thoughts from slipping. Screening them to make sure that he doesn't say anything compromising. Something that he finds harder to do with you involved. “Why'd you bring a date?” Why wouldn't you bring a date? Is on the tip of your tongue.

He's all but screamed that he wanted nothing deeper with you, what with his refusal to speak on things that are clearly bothering him. He was interested, but not as interested as someone would like. And too much of a coward to say so. What was he so afraid of? It's not like you were some pure inexperienced child, you've gone through one night stands before.

If that was all he wanted, he should've just said that. Instead of leaving you to come to the conclusion on your own. Putting together the pieces he so begrudgingly gave to you. Nevermind what Yoongi claims, what he's said to you in the past. That doesn't matter. What matters is how he acts on it and Namjoon hasn't acted at all.

And you certainly weren't going to be the only one out in the wind. “It's a ball? I need someone to dance with... who are you gonna dance with?” A subtle jab, as if you hadn't noticed that he showed up with nobody on his arm tonight.

“I don't really dance much,” His reply is sheepish and meek, you barely hear the words coming from his lips.

You're letting out a hummed sigh and a practiced smile, “That's too bad. Maybe, I'll let you twirl me a few times. It is a charity event after all,” With that you're walking away, promising that you'll follow your brother upstairs when he goes and not sparing another glance at Namjoon.

Hoseok manages to hold his laughter until you're out of earshot, bending forward as he clutches his side. Thick chuckles falling from his lips and filling the space. Joon stays stood beside him, a glare shadowing his features, knowing that he's laughing at him and not being able to be mad at it. The entire situation was laughable in the worst way.

“Oof,” He breaths out after calming, straightening, and letting out a deep breath. “You really pissed her off. What did you do?” He almost delves into all the issues in his head with your brother but holds back for the sake of not getting himself in trouble. Admitting that he actually slept with you to your brother... not a great idea.

Instead, he decides to go with someone he knows Hoseok already knows. “ think she's still pissed I called her superficial... and self-centered,” Not his brightest moment, he was upset, but that wasn't an excuse. It wasn't something he made up, the evidence was right there. But you weren't only that, he knew that.

And chose to ignore it.

“That'll do it.” Hoseok answers with a sure nod. “She hates when people tell her about herself. Especially if they're right,” Of course, he knew how his sister was. How you acted and treated the people around you. You were everything a superficial, self-centered person could be.

Only the people close to you, the people that you felt comfortable with knew that there was more to it. So keen on keeping everyone at an arm's length, you choose to allow the immediate assumption pass, to keep from getting too close. It was better that way. Not often did you meet someone you desired to get to know deeper, to know you.

It felt like that with Joon sometimes, a lot of the time. And you did try to get him to see that you weren't what everyone thought, but it didn't work as well as you had hoped. You were still the same to him.

He's letting out a huff, fingers pushing through his hair. Frustration creeping up the back of his neck. “I didn't think she'd take it to heart! It was just an observation, I didn't mean...” He didn't mean to hurt you, wouldn't imagine it. He wished he could just tell you everything.

How he felt about you, how badly he wanted to be with him – and wanted you to want to be with him. If only it would ruin everything. Although, everything was already ruined... right?

“Why do you feel bad about it now?” Hoseok is fully invested in this conversation now, picking up on the pieces he's missing in the story of you and Namjoon. “Is it because she looks pretty and she's with some guy?”

“No!” There was more to it than just jealousy. As much as he wanted to be in Hyungwon's place, there... was there? “I mean.. yeah?” No, there had to be more. He didn't just want you because he didn't have you. He wanted you because you were you and he didn't quite get it, but he felt it whenever he was with you. It had nothing to do with being jealous. “No! Because she's... she's, her, you know? And she's nice to me, right? So I shouldn't be mean to her?”

Much harder to put into words under your brother's expectant gaze. How was he supposed to explain his feelings when he didn't quite understand them himself. When he hasn't even told you about them properly.

Realizing, he's not going to be getting any more information out of the man, Hoseok is nodding. Eyes searching to find his girlfriend in the crowd, only now remembering that he was expected to meet with his father. “Look, if you think you should apologize, go for it. But don't fuck with her head,” A pointed finger follows his stern warning.

No room is left for Namjoon to respond, Hoseok offering a quick goodbye before he stalks off to wrap himself around the pretty redhead he first arrived with. Whispering something to her before leading her out of the hall and you're just a few steps behind them.

MAY 23RD, 2020 | 21:09

You're told to leave the moment your father's eyes set on the woman wrapped around your brother's waist. Deciding that he'd much rather discuss a different matter tonight than what he had originally planned when he called the both of you away. You protest, of course, not wanting to leave him to get in trouble. Even though, he's never done the same for you.

The threats and ultimatums that you knew were coming, he wouldn't be able to handle it. Would more than likely bend at your father's will because he knew nothing else. Ready to do whatever to keep the peace, even if it was against what he wanted.

Hoseok is the one that asks you to leave, though. Shooing you away with a reassuring smile and while hesitant, you still leave. Offering a soft smile over to Ti-lee who looks as nervous as ever. 

The first person you lay eyes on when you're reentering the room is no other than Kim Namjoon. Stood in the same spot as before, now engaged in conversation with both Jungkook and Jimin. His eyes lift, just for a moment, before he's spotting you. Offering up the first smile he's shown you in the past few days.

And you hate how quickly your body reacts to the twitch of the lip. You should be focusing on moving on, forgetting everything that happened between the two of you. It was nothing. He surely thought so, no matter how many lousy smiles he flashes in your direction. It didn't change anything. He didn't want to be with you.

Ugh, but you wanted him to be.

More than ready to stamp your foot and ball your fists until you were getting what you want. Yet, you had an inkling that no matter the size of your objection – it still wouldn't change anything. Wouldn't change his mind or his heart. It was a fluke, it had to be. Why else would he have pulled back the way he had.

Which is the reason you can't fathom why he'd be making his way over to you right now. Slipping through the crowd of strangers until he's standing right in front of you, with that same smile on his face. “Can I dance with you, now?” His voice just above a whisper and you really wished he'd stop confusing you.

And you wish, you'd stop letting him. “Sure,” 

He takes you and leads you into the crowd of dancing bodies, hand placed lightly on the middle of the back as the two of you move to the music. His hand is so big in your hand, the feel of it reminding you of your first night together. Your first date. Hardly two weeks ago, but it felt like much longer.

You don't speak for a while, allow yourself to imagine that it is like this. Simple. That you're with him and he wants to be with you, despite whatever's holding him back. That he talks to you, instead of leaving you in the dark. That you're happy. As pathetic as it may seem, you were always happy with him.

Never even had to do much, he just knew how to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was catching the subtle blush on his cheeks when you teased him or when he was letting himself go around you, being bold. You liked it most when he threw caution to the wind, your heart did too.

And you had thought you'd be seeing much more of that. But maybe you were wrong...

The sound of him clearing his throat, pulls you from your thoughts, training your full attention on him. He looks nervous. “Did... Did I hurt your feelings when I said... those things?” How fragile did he think you were? Expected to have you curled up crying over being told something that you've known your whole life?

Yeah, right. Your feelings weren't hurt, but that didn't mean it was something that you'd like to hear from someone you thought was starting to see you differently. Someone that you thought liked you. It was annoying.

“No. I love being insulted,” Words dry, yet dripping with sarcasm.

He sighs, “I wasn't trying to insult you,”

The humorless laugh that leaves your lips is unexpected even to you, but you do little to suppress it once it slips. “You were trying to compliment me?” Bewildered, of course. If that was his idea of a compliment... well, maybe you had him pegged wrong.

“No. I just... I noticed, so I said it,” Namjoon is quickly realizing that's not the best answer in trying to mend things. Even though you tried to act as if you didn't care, it was obvious to him that his words held some gravity to you. That it bothered you to hear that from him, he could see through your entire act.

Calling you out on it would just lead to more mess, though. “I'm not saying you're not that, we both know you are. I just shouldn't have judged you on it. You're a lot more,” He had misjudged you when you first met, assumed that there weren't that many layers to you. But he was so wrong.

You were complicated and sensitive and extremely loving. And he enjoyed discovering every new aspect of you the closer he got to you. All things that had him so taken with you. He wanted to learn more, he wanted to try and figure things out. Hated how quickly the flame went out. He wanted that back.

“Yeah?” It's hard to mask the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “What am I?” Honestly, you don't want to sound as hopeful as you feel, but you can't help it. To hear, finally, what he really thinks of you... and maybe what else has been going on in his mind. What has been blocking him from you?

But Joon is terrible on the spot and is quickly clamming up under your gaze. The list he had created mere moments ago fleeting from his memory, only one word behind. And it's not the right one. “Pretty. I mean...” Desperately trying to search for the right words, but you're already rolling your eyes.

“Well, look who's superficial now.” You scoff, but you don't sound mad. Playful even. The teasing tone that he's grown used to in these past few weeks. It has him thinking, maybe he might still have a chance. “I know I'm pretty. And I know I'm spoiled and self-centered. But, I also know I'm intelligent. Outgoing. Kindhearted.” You tick each characteristic on your fingers. “You didn't care about any of that. Didn't even care to mention it,”

“I know. I'm sorry.” The two of you needed to talk, he's only now realizing how badly. There were so many things that he needed to tell you and in turn, so many things that he wanted to hear from you. If you weren't going to be together, at least you could clear the air. At least both of you could do without the confusion weighing over your hearts.

And it had to be now, no more of this waiting around bullshit. He's already lost two weeks of potentially being with you. He was done screwing around. “Should we go somewhere to talk?” 

You don't think there's been a time you were invited to 'go somewhere to talk' and actually talked about anything. It annoys you how easily the words crush your spirit, proving how little control you had over your emotions when it came to him. And to make matters worse, you wanted to go with him.

Whether you were actually talking to correct things or just fooling around as you suspected was his intention. No matter what it was, you wanted to go along with him and that was scared as fuck. Still, you were far from becoming a bobblehead yes-woman at the mere mention of being alone with him.

Keeping your composure was at the top of the list. So you play into it, fingers crawling up his shoulder, to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. “You want to sleep with me tonight, huh?” His eyes widen, obviously surprised that you've caught on.

Namjoon is shocked. How you'd get that from wanting to talk to you. Honestly, what went on in that head of yours, he'd love to know. But, while talking to you was at the utmost of importance... there was no way he could deny that being with you like that again would be nice. The moment held residence in his mind since that night and seeing you every day, looking the way you do did not help.

But, was this a test? Was he not supposed to want to sleep with you because your relationship... if it could even be called that, wasn't in the state to be even further complicated by doing such things. Were you testing him?

“What's the right answer to this?”

He loves the way you play with his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp. “No right answer. It's just what you want,” You're voice is all hushed and sensual, staring up at him through the ridiculously long lashes you've glued on. Which he always finds pretty.

“Uhm. Yes?”

You don't even miss a beat. “Why?”

It had been a test. At least he thinks so, why else would you be asking him why he wanted to sleep with you. He's sure he fucked up, yet again. “No right answer?”

Shaking your head, you smile. And it's a real smile. “No right answer.” Maybe he was wrong? Maybe you just wanted to know?

Joon was hardly doing anything without thinking it through it thoroughly first. He'd overthink into oblivion if it was possible. And like he wanted to know why you liked him, a question that you had fumbled, thinking it was a joke – you wanted to know why he wanted to sleep with you. Didn't really care for the answer, it would change much.

You just wanted to know.

“I like the way you look in your dress,” He's confessing because it's the truth. “And your waist feels good in my hands... you smell so sweet, and...” And I miss you. He can't seem to get his lips to form the words, the ambiguity of our situation holding him back. He didn't want to be the only one out in the wind.

Curious, you prompt. “And?”

“And, I want you.” He figures that should suffice. Doesn't give way to anything deeper that might scare you off. You can want someone without longing for them, right? Although, he did, very much long for you.

That was a conversation to be had at another time, though, because you're grinning. Leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and he swears he feels his heart leap from his chest. And as quickly as you closed in on him, you're back away, with a mischievous look in your eye.

Fingers dipping into the cleavage of your dress and he's not ashamed to admit that amount of attention he pays to them until you're presenting a key from your breast, extending it out to him.

“My rooms on the top floor. I'll meet you up there,” First, you've got to say goodnight to Hyungwon. You try not to look so excited when you walk away, even though it's buzzing from your pores. It was weird. Feeling this hopeful by having a man up to your room, it certainly wast' the first time.

But, Namjoon wasn't any ordinary man. He was different in ways you could no describe. You liked him and there was something there. You knew it, you could feel it. And no matter how cool he tried to act. You're sure he could feel it too.

MAY 23RD, 2020 | 22:11

You find Hyungwon just as he's leading a pretty girl to his car. The slight stumble in his step giving way to how many drinks he's had tonight. He grins when he sees you, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek that earns you a scowl from the girl beside him. Wait till she found out you were his girlfriend.

In no mood to spoil their night, you're quick with your goodbye. Letting him know that you'd be fine to find your own way home, which he quickly meets with his suspicions of you going back inside to meet Namjoon. A lady never tells, so he's whooping with excitement when you confirm it.

He's kissing you before slipping into the back seat of the car, the girl following behind him. The scowl not once leaving her features as she passes you. Lifting your hand to wave them off, because you can't help yourself. And you have every intention to go find Namjoon in your room, but you're being met with a sad looking Hoseok the moment you turn.

“I have to break up with Ti-Lee,” He's saying before you have the chance to ask him what's wrong. You're rushing to him, an arm wrapping around his shoulders. He looks so torn, on the verge of tears. You feel tears well at the brim of your eyes from the sight. “Why?” Asking, even though you already know the answer.

A frustrated sigh leaves his lips as he wiggles from your grip, the sad look on his face replaced with this hard expression that does not suit him at all. “She doesn't suit me. I should be with someone... else,” His words are so robotic, not even hiding that he's literally repeating exactly what your father has told him.

Now, if it were you, you'd laugh it off with a great big 'fuck you', but Hoseok wasn't like you. So, it wasn't going to be that easy to get him to see, that no he shouldn't. “Uhm. Do you want to be with someone else?”

He had been so excited to introduce Ti-Lee, not only to your family but to anyone who was willing to listen. Anyone with eyes could see how smitten the boy was with her and you knew your brother, it wasn't easy to grasp and keep his attention.

And he knew that too. Never has he met someone like his girlfriend. He had no idea it would end up like this when they first met, either. Had been prepared to sum it up to nothing more than a casual hook up, but then he was left wanting and wondering. Wondering what she was doing, how she was doing, if she was thinking about him, how she'd feel to know that he was thinking about her.

It was sudden, the way he fell for her. In the middle of his busy life, where he swore he didn't have time for anything else. And then she was stepping in and it was like he couldn't really enjoy anything else. “No.”

“Then what the fuck are you talking about!?”

You see the annoyance wash over his features, shifting into anger. No doubt replaying the conversation he must've just had. But just as soon as it appears, it's gone. “Dad said it would be in my best interest if-”

With a firm shake of your head, you're cutting him off. “He doesn't care about your best interest, Hoseok.” It was about time he flat out heard it. That man didn't care about anyone but himself and he had everyone, even his own son fooled. But not you. “What could be wrong with Ti-Lee?”

“She doesn't even have a real job,” He's saying, but he doesn't mean it. The words don't even sound like his, because you know for a fact your brother doesn't care about things like that. “That wasn't a problem to you before. What's wrong with Ti-Lee?”

He's offering up another recycled reason on your father's list of unsuitables. “She could be with me for my money,” You actually laugh at that one. The both of you knew how to sniff out money-hungry people trying to nuzzle into your lives. There's no way he'd let Ti-Lee get this close if he thought that was the case.

But, you point out for his sake. “She makes her own money. What's wrong with Ti-Lee?”

You're more than ready to poke holes through any of his bullshit reasons on why he shouldn't be with this girl. Reasons that you know he doesn't even believe himself. A loud groan leaves his lips, hands pushing through his hair.

“Nothing's wrong with her! She's perfect but... but, I have to break up with her, Yn. You wouldn't understand,” You're actually the only person in the entire world that would understand. And also the only person in the entire world that can honestly tell him that it wouldn't be worth it.

Back when you tried to earn your father's affection or even a few words of praise. Anything. You tried so hard, but every last one of your efforts were met with nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a second glance. It didn't take you long to put together that nothing really impressed your father, so might as well enjoy yourself if he was going to scowl at everything.

Hoseok has yet to realize this, but he'd never really be happy until he stopped being so compliant. “No, that's not fair. I won't let you do it.” Putting your foot down literally, which may look childish... but you mean business. “You like her! Like actually like her. You don't like anyone, Hoseok. That's not fair.”

“Come on, do you really think dad would have m do anything he didn't think was best?” Was he brainwashed? What parent would so deliberately stand in the way of their kid's happiness and claim that it's in their best interest? That wasn't parenthood. Like at all.

It was a fucking dictatorship. “Hobi,” You've gotta reach to grasp his shoulders as you speak, eyes trained on his. “Dad doesn't give a shit about you.” Speaking slowly in hopes that the words will penetrate through his rose-colored glasses.

He's knocking your hands off with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. “What? Now you're being ridiculous.” Right, how could he not give a shit about him? That was his favorite after all. Of course, all of his shits were given and served directly to him. Dumbass.

“I'm serious! He only gives a fuck because you fit into his perfect plan. Successful rapper, more than ready to take over. The second something doesn't fit, he's cutting it out. Regardless of how it makes you feel. Why weren't you able to start your clothing line?” He had spent weeks meeting up with designers and artists, creating the basis of the brand he'd name after his very first album.

And right when things were starting to take off, it was being decided that he was spending too much time on things of no value. That he should be more focused on making music rather than trying to appeal to his fans with flashy things. The fact that he was having the most fun didn't matter. Making music. Money for the company.

That. That was more important.

“Because it wasn't a good idea.” And Hoseok had himself convinced that it was his idea to quit. Didn't even fight it when things started tumbling down, just went along with it like he always did.

You had bugged him for weeks about it but gave up after you realized you weren't getting anywhere. He was fucking brainwashed. “No, because it wasn't apart of the plan. So he made sure it didn't happen. He's got you under his thumb, Hobi. Wake up!”

He's getting mad and you can see it. But he has no idea where to direct it. You make sense and he hates that you do. Yet, he can't bring himself to believe that his dad would be setting him up for anything but success. He was his prodigy. It's always been that way, so why now would it be any different?

You were wrong. “No. You don't know what you're talking about. It might be that way for you, Yn. But you're a fuck up. What do you expect? You can't clump us together.” His words cut deeper than he intends. And you find yourself stepping back from him, blinking through the heaviness behind your eyes.

“I'm not a fuck up,” You don't even sound like yourself, all weak and wounded.

His words are fast. “Yes, you are. Every chance you get, you fuck up. And just because you've been keeping your shit lately doesn't change anything. Does it?” He was mad at you and all you were trying to do was help him. 

All you ever did was try and help him. Because he was too stupid to see things as they were. Convinced that everything was perfect and you both had such a great dad.. all you needed to do was clean up your act. Be better and he'll treat you as well as he treats me. When that wasn't the case at all.

It's almost laughable, how little he knew about the man he idolized. “That's funny. The only reason why I've been 'keeping my shit' is because of you! Your fucking dad threatened me with you. Told me if I were to make another mistake he'd tank your album. Oh, but he cares about you, right? Why would he leave that in the hands of a fuck up?” 

The rejection is instant, dismissing your words with a shake of his head. “You're lying.” He concludes. Not seeing any other outcome to this. What you were saying couldn't be true. There's no way his own dad would gamble on his work. No way.

“I don't lie and you know that. Let's go ask him,” Voice sounding a bit too chipper for the circumstance, but this was a long time coming.

Reaching for his hand, you're tugging him back into the hall, leading him straight to the table where your father sits. Completely forgetting about Namjoon waiting for you upstairs.

— daughter of the ceo of the biggest record label, it’s obvious she’d get whatever and whoever she wants. but what happens when she’s meeting the one person that refuses to play into her spoiled brat act?

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