#this was also supposed to just be a quick doodle but i went a tiny bit farther than that... i added some color wow

[oneluckydragon]

We'd both been so excited for it-- to change, to grow stronger, to pass another life-changing milestone on our adventure together. But after I evolved, it took weeks before Sora could even bring herself to look me in the eyes. It went unsaid between us, poisoning our hearts like a cold, bitter curse and haunting every intake of breath. Although, the worst of it all... was that even without words, we both knew why it hurt so much.

Like some sick joke, I had become the spitting image of him.

Ya'll know that feeling when you [Hero] try to evolve into a Leafeon to be closer in spirit to the best friend you lost [Grovyle] because you miss him so much it physically aches, but instead you end up looking like the guy you trusted/adored that betrayed/tried to kill you and your girlfriend? Cause damn it hurts.

Anyways ever since I replayed EOS and evolved at Luminous Spring I've had thoughts about what Sora's reaction would be to Echo's evolution into Umbreon. And lemme tell you that it's an emotional roller coaster. To say that Sora has complicated feelings about Dusknoir is an understatement, and Echo isn't so happy about it either since she had put her faith in him. They've got a lot of trauma to heal.

But to add to that, I like to write about my girls in my spare time when I'm not drawing cause it's fun, so maybe I'll post some little blurbs sometime if anyone is interested?? Hm. Yeah might do that eventually, we'll have to see.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Racing Heart

Pairing  ::  Clark Kent  x  short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings  ::  Smut, Size Kink

Word Count  ::  4,265

Summary  ::  You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N  ::  Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man. 

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

-

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face. 

-

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough. 

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?” 

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

-

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura. 

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile. 

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark. 

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

-

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest. 

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough. 

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest. 

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you. 

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit. 

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again. 

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release. 

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise. 

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him. 

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

[takuyakistall]

Don't get caught! | Riddle Rosehearts

Synopsis: While visiting Heartslabyul, you couldn't help but want to be a hedgehog after seeing the way Riddle is so fond of them and spoils them. But be careful for what you wish for! It might just come true.

Note: This was a request but the ask was too long so I just posted this on its own. I had fun writing this! It was a very cute idea and got carried away so this turned out longer than expected, I hope you enjoy it!

You weren’t sure if this was a good idea or not. You weren’t even sure if this plan would work but Trey and the other Heartslabyul first years insisted that it was going to work—or at least, they’ll try to make it a success. You had absentmindedly let out a random thought a few days about your hair, saying how curious you are about how you would look like in different hair colours and hairstyles. Trey’s unique magic immediately came into your mind, Doodle Suit, and you couldn’t help but comment on how convenient it would be if it could temporarily overwrite your appearance.

You felt bad for asking Trey a favour so suddenly but much to your surprise, he indulged you and said that it isn’t any problem. Of course, you knew nothing about the way his magic works and if it really isn’t a problem to him. Though you decided to trust his words and agreed to meet up with him in the Heartslabyul Dorm during the weekends. Grim, Ace and Deuce tagged along behind you as you entered the mirror to the dorm. Ace and Deuce wanted to be a little bit extra (or so you thought) and picked you up from your dorm.

The smell of freshly painted roses was in the air as your eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight. You relished in the sight of the rose hedges lined up and the half-painted roses hanging from them, a few drops of red paint dripping to the green grass. The empty cans of red paint here and there as you walked through the stone path to the main building. You caught a few glimpses of a few students scrambling to their feet as they picked up a brush and started painting the roses.

Behind them, you could barely make out a familiar shade of red and a heart-shaped ahoge. You quickly turned to Ace, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Wait, where are we headed?” You asked them as Grim climbed up your shoulder.

“To the lounge, or Trey’s room. Whatever works.” Ace answered half-heartedly as he pushed the door open and scanned the room full of students for the green-haired vice dorm leader.

“Nevermind, we’re going to his room.”

Saying the hallways of Heartslabyul was confusing is a big understatement. The twists and turns of the halls more or less made you dizzy just from looking at it. The fact that you don’t know the actual way to Trey’s room made it harder for you to navigate where you were headed to. Deuce grabbed the hem of your sleeve when you were about to make a turn, whispering to you about how his room was still up ahead. Grim had long gotten off your shoulder once he realized that he might get lost with you.

“Good grief… I don’t even have any idea about what colour I should go with first.” You sighed as you spotted a window that gave you a view of the rose maze. The countless green hedges adorned with white roses. Have they not painted this part of the maze yet? You paid it little mind as your eyes wandered to the small cage placed outside and the tiny creatures inside.

Hedgehogs?

Green, pink, and blue ones were all scattered and rolling around in the cage. You couldn’t get a good view but it seemed like someone was giving them food right now. You stopped in your tracks when you realized it was none other than the dorm leader who was doing it. He dusted his hands and stared at the small blobs of colour inside the cage. You couldn’t see it clearly but you saw him open his mouth as a small smile appeared on his face. You found it a bit cute—cute how caring he seems to get when it comes to them.

It must be nice to be a spoiled hedgehog under Riddle’s care huh…

You shook your head, the tips of your ears growing hotter as you told yourself off about having such weird thoughts. Your head snapped back to where Ace and Deuce originally were but only to find them out of sight.

You felt panic rise in your throat as you looked left and right, your eyes searching for the familiar figures. You scolded yourself, regretting getting distracted by that redhead you seem to be so enchanted by. You wandered around the hallway, the knot in your throat growing tighter as you prayed that you won’t get lost.

“Geez! Just how big is this place?” You leaned against the window’s ledge as you let out a small pant. You’ve been walking around the dorm for what felt like hours now but you found yourself in the same place as before—by the window where you watched Riddle tend to the hedgehogs as you sighed.

“Um, excuse me…” The sudden voice behind your back made you jump in place a little. You quickly turned around and was met with a male student with brown hair. Your tense muscles visibly relaxed.

Finally! There was someone you could ask. You opened your mouth slightly to ask but before a single word could be formed—he asked you an unexpected question. He caught sight of the scene you were staring at before his involvement.

“Oh! Were you watching the Dorm Head?” Dense as a rock. The student didn’t think twice before asking this question, his eyes not registering the way your eyes widened slightly and your stance stiffened. You kept silent.

“Hehe, it seems like he’s taking care of the hedgehogs personally.” He mentioned, his voice laced with the faintest bit of admiration when he stared at the scene beside you. You tried to shrug it off but the curiosity inside you couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“...Is it anything special? Riddle taking care of them personally, I mean.”

“Eh? Well… no, not really. It’s just that he really likes them, so he tends to spoil them whenever he’s on duty.”

“Oh, is that so?” You tried looking the other way, trying to keep the nonchalant tone. But the moment you looked away—you could feel a small smile creeping up your face.

Cute.

You shook your head before you got carried away by any other thoughts and turned to the student. You need to do what you came here for!

“Oh, by the way, do you know how to get to Trey’s room?”

“Eh?”

“What the hell took you so long!?” Ace was the first one to greet you with his fist meeting your head without any warning. You winced a bit, clutching your head and fought back with your words.

“It was your fault for walking too fast!”

“Hah? Didn’t we warn you to keep close to us?”

“You said nothing about that!”

“Oh.” Ace fell silent. The corner of his lips suddenly curling up, as if a realization struck him.

“Haha! Don’t mind, everyone makes mistakes right?” There was nothing stronger than the feeling of wanting to slap the grin off his face right now. Had it not been for Deuce trying to keep the peace between you, you weren’t sure if you could've held yourself back.

“Moving on,” Deuce placed a hand over your shoulder. “Trey-senpai’s room is just up ahead. Don’t lose sight of us again, alright?”

It was hard to navigate yourself around the dorm. If there was one crucial thing they hadn’t told you about the dorm, it was the fact that if you weren’t a Heartslabyul student or school faculty, you were bound to get lost amidst the twists and turns. But in their defense, they didn’t expect you to get distracted so easily. You nodded as you followed behind the duo once again.

After a minute or two, you found yourself face-to-face with Trey in front of his dorm room. That’s when you realized you haven’t thought about what colour you’d like after getting lost but your thoughts were cut off when Trey suddenly spoke up.

“Oh, you guys are here. You were a bit late, did you run into some trouble?” He asked as he urged you three (four if you’re counting Grim) into his room.

“(Y/N) got lost~!” Ace chirped in a singsong voice as he threw his arms back behind his head.

“Eh, really? Be more careful next time, you’re lucky you were found quickly—otherwise, who knows how long you’d be stuck there.” The closed-eyed smile on his face made his terrifying words seem normal. You wondered if there were previous cases that went way worse than what you went through. You let out a relieved sigh inside your head, thanking the student that found you.

“Then, let’s make this quick.” Trey guided you to a chair, dragging you gently by the wrist and made you sit there as Ace, Deuce, and Grim stood beside you. Their growing curiosity couldn’t be masked.

His instructions were clear enough. He said that you should try to paint an image inside your head. Envision what you would like to look like while closing your eyes and then he’ll activate his unique magic. He also mentioned that it would only last 24 hours or shorter if interfered with stronger magic and that he can revert the spell after a certain period if time just in case you wanted to remove it quicker.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to paint an image of yourself you’d like to see.

“Ready? I’ll start now.”

You thought of your favourite colour, envisioning yourself with that certain hair colour. Wondering if Riddle would like it if he saw it. Oh, maybe if you were a (F/C) coloured hedgehog, he might find you cute!

“Doodle Suit!”

A small puff of smoke appeared just right after Trey finished his incantation. You felt a bit groggy and weird, was it supposed to feel like this? You opened your eyes, your vision adjusting to the sudden light until you realized the situation you were in. Everything seemed a hundred times bigger than they usually were and everyone inside the room seemed to have grown bigger. Everyone except you.

You felt so small.

“Eh!? Trey-senpai, where did they go?” The panic in Ace’s voice was unlike him. But Deuce was even more panicked than him, he thought that maybe they messed up and you disappeared for good. Grim was looking frantically everywhere.

You wanted to shout out. Tell them that you were still here but oddly enough, instead of a voice, a very weird sound came out of your mouth. The room froze when they heard it. Trey was the first one to spot you, a nervous chuckle slipping from his mouth as he held your small body up.

“It seems like your friend… turned into a hedgehog.”

Eh?

Eh!?

You messed up. Countless thoughts swirled rapidly at dangerous speeds as you thought about what could’ve gone wrong. You swore you did his instructions properly, you thought of what you wanted to look like and—

At the last minute, you thought about hedgehogs. That’s what went wrong. You wanted to bury your face into your hands but your new incredibly short four legs couldn’t even reach your face. This was a new level of embarrassment, you just wished that this was all a bad dream. You lied down flat on Trey’s palm, hiding your face from everyone as you heard Ace barely being able to contain his laughter.

“Pfft—” He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to tell himself not to laugh but the situation made it hard for him to follow his instructions. Deuce, on the other hand, was crouching down while clutching his stomach—trying to keep his laughter as silent as possible. Grim had an indifferent expression before he approached you. He scaled your size compared to him and that’s when he lost it.

If you could speak, you would’ve told them to cut it out but much to your misfortune, you were left to make weird noises hedgehogs made. And if you were to make sounds like that, you were pretty much sure that they would laugh harder at you.

“Oh man, this is gold! I can’t believe you turned into a hedgehog.” Ace let out, that stupid grin on his face wider than ever.

“Though that does make me wonder how you managed to think about hedgehogs.” Deuce crossed his arms and pondered, finally calming down. Before he could dive deeper into his thoughts, Trey interjected.

“That isn’t important right now. We better think of what to do with your friend.”

“Trey-senpai, can’t you just overwrite it with your unique magic?” Deuce asked him.

“Unfortunately, it’s going to take a while before I can use my magic on them again. We need to put them somewhere safe for a while, can one of you keep them with you or do you know a place we can leave them?”

“Well, how about…”

“Hup! Off you go!” You hopped off Ace’s hand into the small cage he pushed you into. You felt yourself tense up when you were surrounded by your fellow small creatures, wondering if it was alright for you to sneak in like this. Ace assured Deuce that no one would notice an extra hedgehog inside the cage and decided that it was alright for you to stay there.

You had your doubts and troubles about this course of action but what can you do except comply? Your fate was temporarily in their hands—you were completely helpless. You just stayed behind as you watched Ace, Deuce, and Grim fade into the distance as they walked further and further away.

You looked around, trying to find something you can entertain yourself with but only to be met with immeasurable disappointment when you found out there was absolutely nothing you could do except eat, drink, or sleep. What’s worse is that you don’t know how long you were going to be here. You lied down on your stomach as you stared into space, a sudden wave of tiredness came over you as you felt your eyelids close.

Perhaps a short nap wouldn’t hurt.

You woke up to the heavy weight that rested over your body, you felt like you were being squeezed as a surge of panic took over you. You looked up to see that a green hedgehog was sleeping over you, it looked so comfortable that you felt bad for suddenly moving from your place. You couldn’t stay like this—you wanted to get out! You wished that Ace and Deuce just brought you with them even if it meant that they would probably get told off by Riddle for bringing out a hedgehog outside croquet matches.

“Hm? How strange… did I count correctly?” The sudden voice made you jump in your place, eyes darting everywhere to find out where it came from.

Wine red hair and slate grey eyes. There was no mistaking it—the voice belonged to none other than Riddle Rosehearts, the Dorm Leader of Heartslabyul. Confused, you wondered why he was still here. Didn’t his duty end a while ago? There was no reason for him to check up on the hedgehogs again!

“There’s an extra one?” His eyes shifted to you and you felt your blood run cold. How in the world did he know it was you out of everyone in the cage? You needed to think of something, quick. Who knows what he might do to you? Throw you out? Certainly, he wouldn’t do that… right?

“Don’t be scared. I won’t harm you, I promise.” Riddle’s gentle voice as he reassured you made you feel safe. You stared at his outstretched arm as a small smile appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but willingly hop into his palm. He brought you closer until you were on eye level with him. His grey eyes staring at you so intensely, you almost let out a squeak.

“Now then, we just have to find out who put you here.” He placed you on his shoulder and you felt the sudden panic sink in. You were in for a lot of trouble! You hadn’t expected Riddle to notice the extra hedgehog and you didn’t even expect him to come over in the first place. You cursed Ace and Deuce inside your head for leaving you there and expecting everything to sail smoothly.

If Riddle found out what happened, you were screwed. The best course of action you chose was to do your best to act like a normal hedgehog. That should be easy enough, right? Wrong! You didn’t know anything about how they acted and that fact alone made you declare this operation a failure.

Riddle walked away from the gardens and into the dorm building, your grip on his clothes tight because you were afraid of falling. Riddle felt the sudden shift on his shoulder and barely felt your claws ghosting over his clothes. He thought it was a bit strange, were you afraid of heights? But he paid it little to no mind as he continued walking and pushed open the door.

The students sitting in the common room suddenly stiffened up—they were first years and it was only natural that they were afraid of the strict Riddle Rosehearts. They stood up and greeted Riddle almost immediately, like soldiers.

"D-Dorm Leader!"

“Calm down, I’m not here to reprimand you or anything.” Riddle was irked at the way they visibly relaxed after saying that but he didn’t bother bringing it up. He scooted closer to them as he showed them the hedgehog on his shoulder.

“Do you know where this came from?”

Of course, the students could barely understand his question. They didn’t know the hedgehog was an extra head inside the cage and assumed that it was a normal hedgehog, so they answered:

“That’s a hedgehog, Riddle-senpai. It came from the cage they’re being kept in.”

“Of course I know that, I meant for this one specifically! It wasn’t here before.”

“M-Maybe it came from the forest and got lost?”

“It’s likely but how would it get inside the cage? That means a human probably put it in there.”

“Well… we don’t know.”

Riddle let out a sigh, trying to keep it together. It was going to be hard for him to find the culprit so he thought, just for a second, that maybe he should just let it stay inside the dorm. It wasn’t as if the world would end if he did, after all. But something deep inside his guts told him that he shouldn’t let go of this so easily. He dismissed the students and went to his room as he picked you up from his shoulder and into his palms.

“Where in the world did you come from…?” He brought you closer to his face and you felt like your heart was about to stop. His eyes widened as he made a sudden discovery. Magic? He felt the faintest bit of magic coming from you and that was enough to tell him that he should get to the bottom of this. But first—he needed an afternoon snack inside his room. After all, a queen should never make do without tea and snacks.

There was nothing more relaxing than having his favourite blend of tea in the afternoon accompanied by little snacks and biscuits that were served in little platters and teacups adorned with rose designs. It was to be expected as he was stuck in a dorm that was founded by the Queen of Hearts, it wasn't as if Riddle minded though—in fact, he grew fond of it. Daintily, he picked up his fork and took a small piece of his strawberry tart before putting it inside his mouth. Relishing in the burst of flavours that bloomed inside his mouth before turning his gaze to the small creature crawling on the table.

If you were already nervous back then, you didn't know how much more nervous you are now. You felt bad for feeling like you're deceiving him but at the same time, it wasn't as if you had a choice at all! Pushed into this seemingly hopeless situation, you wondered what would happen if somehow you transformed back into your original body right now. You shook your head and made yourself stray away from those thoughts—they never tend to end well once you think about them.

You tried distracting yourself by looking around the table and a certain snack caught your eye. You slowly made your way to it, your little feet pitter-pattering against the wooden material. Strawberry shortcake. Surely you were a tiny bit hungry after everything that occurred and not once did you get the chance to sit down and eat since you refused to eat the same food the other hedgehogs in the cage ate. You couldn’t help but look longingly at the small platter.

Riddle stopped halfway when he was about to take another bite out of his tart as he caught sight of you. Now, he wasn’t well-versed in the language of hedgehogs but it didn’t take an idiot to realize that you were hungry. He was a sucker for the rules of the Queen of Hearts but he wasn’t heartless. There was no harm in feeding you a little bit of that cake, right?

“Hm,” he contemplated for a split second, “just one small piece, okay?”

He took a small piece with his fork and nudged it towards you, expecting you to eat it. It took you a few seconds to understand what’s going on. Riddle, of all people, was feeding you. You didn’t know if you should be happy or not since you were in your hedgehog form but once you thought about it—didn’t you say earlier that it must be nice being a hedgehog spoiled by Riddle? Did the Great Seven up above hear you and decided to grant your wish?

Nonetheless, you took this as an opportunity. Who knows when you’ll get this close to Riddle ever again. You tasted the cake, eyes lighting up as you felt the sweetness of the frosting spread inside your mouth. You quickly took another bite until you finished everything with a content look. Riddle propped his elbow against the table and rested his chin on the center of his palm, looking at you with gentle eyes.

"...Somehow you remind me of a certain person." Riddle suddenly spoke up, his tone wary as he squinted at your figure. Your actions suddenly became more languid as you realized that perhaps the root of his suspicion was because of your erratic movements.

Surely he doesn't know it's me, right…!?

"(Y/N)," you froze up. "You remind me of them for some reason."

You went through the possible list of reasons how he came to that conclusion inside your head as you felt your heartbeat beat faster. For some reason, this whole scenario felt like it came straight out of a horror film. Out of all the names he could’ve said, he chose to say yours. The panic subsided as you suddenly grew curious about what exactly reminded him of you.

There was the slightest, smallest, unlikely chance that it was because he liked you but that was too far-fetched, right? Your imagination was going wild and unknowingly, you let out a small squeak. Riddle chuckled at the sudden sound, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. He stopped to think for a moment, he was alone, right? There was no one else in the room but the hedgehog and him, right? He took a deep breath.

“Speaking of them, something has been on my mind right lately… and it’s bothering me to no end.” He started, a downcast expression was on his face and you couldn’t help but worry. Did you perhaps do something to upset him? The thought itself made you panic inside. You couldn’t help but scoot away from him a little.

“I think I like them.”

What.

WHAT!?

You wondered if turning into a hedgehog made your hearing worsen or Riddle just made a mistake. There was no way what you heard was right, right? But, even then, Riddle had a slightest tint of pink spreading on his face as he looked down in slight embarrassment. It was hard to believe that he didn’t mean it or that he made a mistake in what he said. You felt your heart explode at the sudden realization and discovery.

“But the problem is that I think they’re avoiding me. I’m a bit afraid that they don’t like me,” Riddle sighed, “not a lot of people like me after all.”

“That’s not true!” is what you wanted to say had it not been for the fact that you can’t. But as they always say—actions speak louder than words. You scooted closer to his hand on the table and placed one of your front paws over his hand, hoping that he would take it as a form of reassurance. His eyes widened slightly at the sudden gesture, surprised that maybe the hedgehog understood his feelings and tried comforting him.

“Eh, you’re full of surprises aren’t you? Did you actually understand what I said?”

Without thinking it through, you nodded.

“Ah-! You really do… that’s strange. But anyway, thank you for your reassurance. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to confess b-but that’s not important right now, I need to find out where you came from.” Riddle urged you to go to the palm of his hand and you complied with no complaints. He lifted you until you were at eye-level with him.

“Let’s continue looking, shall we?” Before he let you go, he placed a kiss on your head as a sign of endearment. You swore you were about to let out another squeak until a cloud of smoke suddenly appeared from nowhere and you felt your body get bigger as you closed your eyes shut.

You wrapped your arms around Riddle’s neck so as not to fall and you felt his arms go under your shoulders and knees as he let out a surprised noise—realizing he was carrying you when the smoke thinned out. His eyes widened in surprise and his face was as red as his face when he looked at the person he was carrying. There was no way. No absolute way this was happening to him.

You stared at him nervously, face red as you violently wondered why the spell suddenly went undone. Trey never mentioned anything about a kiss being able to undo it so why…!? Countless questions took over your mind but there was only one thing you could focus on right now.

What do I do now?

“Ahaha… Hi Riddle…” Nervously, you started.

“Y-Y-You…”

“It’s me, (Y/N)...!” You had the feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

“M-My confession…”

“Oh yeah, about that I—”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!”

Extra:

"E-Eh!? That came from Riddle-senpai's room right now. Do you think he's okay?" A random student asked the person beside them, crossing their arms as a pensive expression took over their face.

"Hmm, do you think we should check? Or tell Trey-senpai?" The other suggested. But as soon as Trey's name was uttered, he emerged from the hall with a satisfied grin on his face—as if he accomplished something great.

"Don't worry about Riddle, he's just having a little bit of fun with someone right now." He chuckled, not doing well to ease the students' worries.

"Trey-senpai...? Oh, he's gone. What do you think he meant by that?"

[thatsthetriick]

Y/n letting Rohan Kishibe sleep in their home

Summary: After Rohan’s house got burnt down he needed to stay with someone temporary since his home isn’t safe yet for him to live in, he decided to choose you to stay with since out of everyone in morioh he trusted you the most. gn! reader! Also I don’t know if I should consider this a headcanon or a scenario, eitherway its a fanfic thing xD

Header: Jjba: Diamond is Unbreakable

Rohan staying at Y/n’s place after his house got burnt down

✫ “Rohan?” you would question it’s like 10 PM at night time and you were already falling asleep when he knocked at your door.

✫ “Forgive me Y/n but I suppose you don’t mind if I stay over?” he’ll explain why he needed to stay over your place and you welcome him to your home, he looked around and you were nervous if the place was alright enough for him.

✫ He eventually reassures you that it’s fine and you lead him to your room, you don’t really have a spare but you did tell him you have a sofa and you can just sleep there since you never really used your bed ever since you got that sofa and he hesitated but since he saw that you were genuine about not using your bed at all he’ll accept it.

✫ You give him your empty desk for him to work since you know he is devoted to his drawings and drawing generally and he was also grateful for that, he just didn’t show it enough and you were alright with it.

✫ You’ll probably go down and get some tea and biscuits for the both of you and he’ll look aroudn your room and see your artworks, you were also an artist but you didn’t really want it to be your career it was just a hobby you do when you’re bored.

✫ He’ll look at the scattered papers and sketch book at a tiny coffee table near the entrance of your room, it seems like you like drawing on the floor that’s why your desk is empty as well.

✫ He eventualyl goes and sits back down and began thinking on how Josuke was winning the gamble till you come in with tea and biscuits.

✫ You’re an awkward host honestly, he didn’t talk to much and you didn’t talk that much either but you two stayed at the same room.

✫ It’s probably raining at the time he came over your house or it did eventually rain so you heard his pencil noises in contact of the paper he was drawing in and the rain at the same time

✫ The lights are closed except for the bright lamp that was on the desk where he was drawing, while you eventually fell asleep.

✫ He’ll see you with no blanket and he’ll go look back at his art, then he’ll look at you again and then back to his art till his final look at you he sighed and stood up and grab a piece of blanket and cover you with the blanket as you sleep comfortably

✫ He’ll continue his work again and would look time to time at you sleeping peacefully wondering your thoughts of him.

✫ After finishing several drawings he streched and made grunting noises as he did so and looks at you one last time and decided to make a quick doodle sketch of you sleeping peacefully.

✫ That’s because he found it cute you had raw emotions as you sleep.

✫ He eventually falls asleep on the desk and you coincidentally woke up to see him sleeping on the desk on top of his drawings.

✫  You carefully pack his things away and put the blanket he put on you to him and grab an extra one and went back to sleep.

In my opinion Rohan is a cute tsundere xdd ! Check out my masterlist~

[sunlight-moonrise]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much. 

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog​ and @clean-bands-dirty-stories​ for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt​ for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins​.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness. 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name. 

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major,  I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit. 

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top. 

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.  

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.  

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag. 

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him. 

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears. 

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door. 

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed. 

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face. 

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us. 

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony. 

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead. 

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?” 

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus. 

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door. 

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work. 

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly. 

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do? 

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped. 

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D? 

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel. 

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist. 

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions. 

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.  

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.  

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me. 

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man. 

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.” 

Fine, have it your way, Sir. 

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion. 

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat. 

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point. 

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?” 

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy. 

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner. 

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added. 

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

[teukyo]

One Warm Spring  — Hamada Asahi

pairing: hamada asahi x reader (gender neutral)

genre: fluff, very cheesy lol

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this had no business being so long i apologize D: i tend to overwrite whoops.. oh this is also my first fic so i hope you enjoy ! i’m still a bit rusty lol

Spring; after long nights of endless slumber, the Sun creeps up to the earth, its rays planting warm yet gentle kisses. The orb’s cheeks fill up in heat, flowers of endearment blooming, butterflies catching in the atmosphere’s stomach.

The Earth smiling back, showing a bright welcoming smile, and with open arms, tells the sun “good morning”. 

The quiet exchange of sweet nothings transferred to the buoyant citizens, as everyone would jump in joy about the newly welcomed season.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

Yet, you often found it a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now.

Empty confessions mimicked to be heartfelt at the spur of the moment, fleeing away just as quick as the cherry blossoms came and went. You just never understood it.

Snap!

“Y/N~~ the cherry blossoms are coming soon,” your friend, Jihoon sang into your ear, “And you’re out dozing off into dreamland, are you perhaps thinking about participating in the blossoming of love this year?”

You lightly shoved him away, giving him a glare. Jihoon was always jumping around during this time of the season because he never failed to have a crowd lining up to confess him; his ego flying as high as the newly born butterflies.

“Haha, very funny.” You deadpanned, leaving him behind to go to the cafeteria. 

“Hey, you get the drinks and i’ll get the food!” Jihoon shouted, you simply responding with an ‘okay’ symbol with your hand.

Because this was a routine everyday, you had your exact footsteps to the vending machine engraved in your head.

‘11:43—by now everyone should have already gotten their drinks’

‘1, 2, 3, 4.. don’t trip over the crack.. 5, 6, 7—’ beep!

That beep.. wasn’t part of your procedure.

You looked up, your eyes landing on an unfamiliar figure in front of your destination.

Focusing your vision on him, he was made out to be a raven haired boy, his posture slightly hunched over focusing on the number combination assigned to each drink.

His dainty fingers lightly pressing the right combo, pressing each digit carefully like his joints were made of glass

Shoving the crumpled up $5 bill into the slot, his eyebrows furrowing when the machine rejected it

5-5-6-2— banana milk?

You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring at him the entire time until he started walking away, a banana milk in his hand, accidentally brushing past you.

“Ah, sorry” he simply muttered under his breath before continuing on his path. His voice, a deep contrast to the season; hearing his hushed voice chilling you like a midwinter night. His entire presence stood out, almost like a wilted flower amongst the blossoming ones. Yet here you are, warm as ever, feeling the sun pressing warm gentle kisses on the place his fingertips brushed yours.

—

“Y/N? banana milk? you seem to be switching it up today” Jihoon said when you set your drinks down on the table.

“Ah.. i just — maybe i needed a change for the season” you simply responded because, you too, didn’t know why you had a banana milk in front of you instead of your usual chocolate milk.

Throwing your half empty banana milk carton to the trash after lunch, you heard a voice peer behind you.

“Oh! you drink banana milk too! it’s my favorite!” a student you knew the name by Jaehyuk vocalized. You snuck a peek back at the banana milk slowly spilling out of the tiny straw, smiling back at Jaehyuk looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Ah— this is actually my first time trying it! And it’s.. good!” you returned, attention on Jaehyuk until you see a much smaller figure peer behind him, a chocolate milk in hand.

“Of course it’s good! don’t buy too much of it though— don’t need it going out of stock on me! cmon Asahi”

Asahi. Asahi is his name.

You took one last quick glance at him, watching him throw the empty chocolate milk carton in the bin.

“Yeah.. The banana milk was too sweet for me anyway.”

—

Squatting down to touch the freshly grown flowers outside the school yard, you had recalled the times of your youth as a child running so eagerly to the same flowers in your hand right now.

Gazing at the pretty pink petals in awe as you wiping the morning dew slightly so it can slide off the petals, dripping to the ground.

Running back into your home, crying for a bandaid because you accidentally poked your hand with one of the thorns on accident.

Such simple yet vivid times you remember that made you cherish life a little more.

“Y/N? what are you doing here— our last class is gonna start soon” you heard your classmate Hyunsuk call. you spotting an ever so familiar figure behind him.

Small yet vivid moments.. how does this remind you of—

“Y/N what are you doing cmon!”

—

After school, you sneakily slid into the art classroom after realizing you left your phone in there. Checking the clock, you had 15 minutes before art club would commence, assuming you had 5 minutes to find your phone before members of the club would start arriving.

You observed the colorful classroom with the array of paintings laying on the drying rack, the paint brushes laying on the counter to dry, the sink covered in copious amounts of colors with its original silver color peeking through. The room gave off the feel of an elementary school art classroom. You guess the term “art is timeless” applies to the setting art is made in too.

“Ah there it is!” you whispered to yourself, snatching it off of the teacher’s desk. The sound of the door sliding open shocked you, ducking down under the table out of instinct.

‘Crap—how do i get out of here’ you thought before hearing a tiny tap on the desk.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

“Uhm.. are you okay?” you looked up, seeing him.

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

“Oh sorry! I just- I forgot my phone during class so I just came in here to grab it..” you trailed off, quickly getting out of your ducked position and brushing the dust off of you.

You just never understood it.

“I should get going since art club is starting soon” you mustered. Before you could open the door you heard him speak.

“Are you looking to join the art club by any chance?” he said. You looked back at him, unable to scramble words together.

‘Just say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes say-‘

—

You handed out the application form to the leader of the art club, Yoshinori was it?

“Thank you thank you! You can join us for today to see the gist of what goes on” he said while giving you a smile that can easily flutter the hearts of others.

You looked at the room around you seeing Asahi and Jaehyuk, and a freshman that went by Haruto.

To be honest, why did you apply? Your experiences in art were little to none and your current piece you were working on in class was a “dog”— at least that’s what you called it.

“There should be one more person arriving and then we can start” Yoshinori said whilst you and him took a seat.

You stared at Asahi across from you who was absent mindedly looking down at the table, fiddling with his fingers.

‘Cute’ you thought before getting interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“oh! Y/N what brings you here?” you looked behind you to see Jihoon at the entrance, giving Yoshinori a polite smile.

“I think i should be asking what are YOU doing here,” you retorted, knowing very well that both you and him had the same level of art skill, “and I just joined because i’ve been interested in art.”

“Sure—“ Jihoon scoffed, “Asahi told me about this today so i decided to join—“

‘Asahi. How does he know Jihoon?’

“And you’re not even listening to me!” he exclaimed, ruffling your hair roughly, you lightly punching him in the gut in return.

After the commotion died down, everyone went in session, drawing on a piece of paper whatever went into mind. It definitely meditated your mind but it wasn’t appealing— visually.

The room was filled with small chatter, Jihoon’s voice overbearing everyone else’s.

“Your doodles are very cute” you heard him softly speak. You looked up at his paper, your eyes widening at the sheer talent that bestowed upon your eyes.

“You’re a funny jokester” you simply replied, looking at your own paper with a tight lipped smile. You heard him stifle a laugh, warmth flooding throughout your veins.

“It’s amusing to look at— i like the dog” he said, pointing at one of the drawings.

“It’s supposed to be a zebra >:(“ you looked up at him, trying to contain his laughter before calming himself down and continuing to draw on his paper.

“Well it’s fine because art club isn’t necessarily based on skill. i mean, if we have Jaehyuk in here then that says something” he responded pointing at Jaehyuk’s paper. You couldn’t quite comprehend what he was drawing— a person playing baseball??

“It’s a frog by the way”

“HUH?!”

—

You hadn’t realized how late art club ended, but when you walked out of school, you saw the once blue sky turned into an orange hue indicating the late time.

“We hope to see you again Y/N” Yoshinori said. You nodded and hummed in response before taking your leave with Jihoon.

You took one last glimpse of Asahi, sticking out amongst the orange sky. The sun was setting yet— looking at him gave you the exact warmth you would feel on a midsummer day. You watched his mouth slowly bloom into a smile when made eye contact. You think in your mind that spring has never felt so warm.

—

You looked up at the trees in the process of blooming, white buds formulating on the branches.

“The trees are gonna be really pretty in about two weeks or so” you heard a voice from behind you. Him. You clenched the chocolate milk in your hand before turning towards him.

“Yeah— oh sorry i’m blocking the vending machine” you murmured, sliding away.

“Oh no no,, it’s fine,” he said before taking your spot and getting the same drink in your hand, “Are you by any chance— planning to confess to anybody?”

Oh, right. You looked up at the blossoming trees once again. The time of the season you once never understood. The time of the season you once could say you despised. Yet here you are, having the rush of spring flowing down your veins. Is this the adrenaline that everyone feels? The unknown feeling gave you goosebumps throughout your body as he asked you that question.

“I don’t quite know yet,” you simply responded, looking back at him taking the drink out of the machine, “What about you?”

A sheepish smile wiped on his face, his dimple showing ever so slightly. He shrugged before looking at you.

“Only my heart knows the answer to that question.”

—

Over the so little time you’ve known Asahi, you’ve picked up on his mannerisms and his actions.

For one, he was more on the reserved side, and even when he talked his voice would always be on the softer side. You unknowingly started to associate him with winter because he gave off the cold feeling of a winter night. It was also your favorite season.

Most people knew him because he was friends with Jaehyuk, one who was very popular amongst the school. You had heard a couple times in the hallway about how handsome Asahi was. The feeling you felt when hearing that was unknown to you.

He enjoyed drawing a lot; him and Yoshinori were the best out of the club (though you’d be a bit biased if asked whose art you liked more), and he was always focused on his work, always scrunching in a little corner tending to his painting. But yet he always complimented your drawings no matter how bad they were, never failing to give you a warm feeling right after.

You could say you had developed an endearment towards asahi.

You stepped out your home, looking at the once bare trees flutter into pink hues, you thought the cherry blossoms were beautiful.

Today you decided not to walk out with Jihoon because well— confession season is always different with that boy. You had no intentions to get caught up in his relations.

You took timid and slow steps towards school. Taking your time looking at the petals and happy groups walking and aweing at the blossoms. Your mind was also off somewhere— of course it was, it always was.

Arriving at school, you saw Jihoon getting flooded by countless individuals, a letter in most of their hands. You could say the same to Jaehyuk on the other side who was also getting bomboarded. You took your routined steps to your locker, opening it as per usual except— it wasn’t usual.

You watched the letter flutter out, swaying to the floor imitating a loose flower petal. Picking it up with a shaked up expression, you carefully opened it up.

You saw the scribbled up lines at the top of the letter, indicating that the said person was trying to make a poem.

‘ah— who am i kidding? i’m not one with words. i never was. yet here i am trying to pour my feelings out on this letter. but i cant seem to combine the right words to express it. maybe because my feelings could not be described in the first place. maybe my feelings are best not worded out on this crumpled up piece of notebook paper. because if i’m being honest— this is my 27th time writing this and yet i still cant get it down. just.. meet me at class 104B? 4:15 pm after school today? please? -♡

Your grip on the paper tightened, the heart fluttering confession bringing a small smile to your face. You looked back at your locker seeing chocolate milk in sitting atop. You grasped it in your hand, taking it out before closing the locker and heading to class, your hands gripping tightly onto the objects. Unknown to you a figure watching your every move with focused eyes.

As time went by in school awfully slowly, your mind went off to one person only. You had foolishly deluded yourself into thinking that the letter and milk was from him. well— he did see you buy chocolate milk that one time. And well,, the handwriting did have a print of him.

‘Enough thoughts. just wait until school ends and your mind can finally-‘ ring!

You looked up at the clock in shock, realizing that it was, in fact, 4:00pm.

You purposefully gathered up your belongings slowly, trying to pass as much time as possible. Putting your care into every single step taken, from the 1st floor to the second.

Taking a deep breath, you slid open the empty classroom door. It was very convenient that it was just across the art classroom as the club did have a meeting today.

You traveled across the room to look out the window, seeing someone announce their feelings to another under the cherry blossoms. Just last spring you would stick your tongue out in disgust yet here you are somewhat in the same position, your heart aching as each second ticks by.

You watched them hug each other, their feelings being reciprocated, a petal getting caught in ones hair. You looked at the trees and how it really set the mood, almost getting lost in the alluring sight until you heard someone clear their breath.

You turned around deliberately, looking down at your shoes before looking up.

Yet, you often found it as a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now. well— maybe not.

It’s him. The person right in front of your eyes is him.

You felt like the sun had just rose, your heart beating out of your chest almost like it was about to burst and run away. You felt the butterflies prance around in your stomach, feeling like you could cough one up right now. Does he feel the same right now?

“Ah,,, hello” he mustered shyly. You clenched the letter in your hand.

“Did you perhaps—“ though it was quite obvious, the slight nod from him gave you your answer.

You observed him, his hair slightly covering his eyes. Lightly kicking at his feet, you had figured he couldn’t compromise the right words.

“I have something for you” he spoke out after what seemed like a few minutes. He reached his hand out, silently telling you to take the initiative to grab it. You placed your hand in his, feeling like your hand was molded perfectly just to cusp his. His grip so gentle you could barely feel him grasp your hand.

Leading you to the art classroom across, your eyes spotting on the covered canvas on an easel. Using his other hand, he took off the cloth, your eyes widening in awe.

Your mouth laid agape as you looked at the drawing of a portrait of you with cherry blossoms in the background. Your heart stammering in your chest.

“Is this what you’ve been working on the entire time in art club?” you asked, eyes still on the painting. He hummed and nodded his head.

“Do you like it? Or is it a bit too—“

“No no! I like it a lot— Actually I love it. I love it so much” you cut him off, looking at him with excitement evident in your eyes. Words couldn’t describe the feeling flowing through you. Is this real?

“Well, I like you a lot too. I was trying to find a way to tell you, so I used my strong suit which is art” he proceeded to tell you, taking your other hand in his. He smiled tenderly at you, his signature dimple showing once more.

“Asahi— I like you too” you beamed, staring straight into his eyes. His smile widened more, his teeth showing. You took this as the initiative to hug him, arms wrapping around his neck, his wrapping around your waist.

You felt the sun shine on you, the warmth of spring immersing through you, your heart feeling more than alive as ever. The cherry blossoms you once thought as a mistake becoming the blessing in disguise for you. You think in the time of the moment that Spring has never felt so warm for you.

[thatslikely]

Frosting On Your Nose - R.W.

Frosting On Your Nose- Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: marriage (to Ron), mentions of having a kid, food.

Word Count: 1.2k 

A/N: this has been an idea of mine forver, here it is. writing for ron is actually kinda fun! i’ve been feeling really bad about my writing lately, so I’m glad at least to churn something out. also I renamed Ron’s son because Hugo is not it

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

if you want to be added, send me an ask or dm!

“I can’t believe our Benny’s already turning one year old! Feels like he was born just yesterday, doesn’t it, love?” Ron asked you from across the messy, crumb-coated kitchen, his chiseled hands steadily whisking a muckle of creamy, vanilla frosting in a bowl. 

“Time really does fly when you’re having fun, I suppose,” you replied while carefully selecting a fistful of small food dye vials of various shades of the rainbow. The blank, white frosting will soon brilliantly decorate the rich chocolate cake cooling on the windowsill, basking in the sun’s lazy, late-afternoon rays.

Silence soon rose into the bright, cozy room like the soothing morning tide of the sea, calm and comfortable. Ron continued to rhythmically stir the batch of uncolored frosting while you had moved on to preparing various crystalline piping bags, selectively choosing each fine metal tip.

Inexorably, Ron soon removed the metal whisk from the bowl, long, red tongue out and ready to kitten-lick some of the deliciously sweet frosting off the whisk’s wired loops. “Ronnie, you better not be eating any of that frosting! It’s for Benny’s cake, remember,” you smoothly reminded the sweet-toothed redhead opposite you, not even needing to gaze at him to know what he had planned.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Ron denied innocently, placing the whisk back into the bowl inconspicuously. You ambled over to the tall ginger for a quick progress check, pleased to see that the frosting was now mixed to perfection, its texture silky smooth and ready for piping. You swiped your finger on the rim of the bowl, accumulating a dollop of the fluffy cream, before nonchalantly sticking it into your mouth with a pop. “Hey! You can have frosting, but I can’t, huh? That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, Ronnie-kins. But I’ll let you have all the leftovers after the cake is done, deal?”

“Fine,” - he grumbled - “deal. Now what colours are we gonna frost this mouth-watering cake?” 

Countless rough sketches and outlines of adorable cakes filled the smudged papers of your notebook, the same one you doodled in since your Hogwarts days. You gingerly handed Ron the dog-eared bundle of bound papers, pointing at your favorite sketches and concepts, most of which included bright colours and childish smiley faces galore. The final design of the soon-to-be Benny’s first birthday cake was circular and slathered in white frosting, dotted with yellow and orange suns wearing wide-mouthed grins, which popped against frosted sky-blue ribbons. Little spherical sprinkles added miniature bursts of colour to the central letters of the cake which read, “Happy First Birthday Benny!” in flawless, fluid cursive writing.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a knack for drawing, sweetheart. Benny’s cake’ll look amazing, as long as you’re the one doing all those tiny details.” 

“You’re not that bad at sketching yourself. We’ll pipe it together, but I’ll be sure to do the lettering. Don’t think I didn’t see your awful handwriting back on all your old Divination homework.”

“It was only that bad because I hated the class! It always smelled like old-lady perfume and Trelawney was a nutter!” 

“She was better than Snape, at least.”

Ron gave you a concurring nod, his unkempt mop of ginger hair fluffing up and down with the movement. You suppressed a giggle at his charming, goofy grin you’d come to love before squeezing droplets of brilliantly-coloured food dye into the small basins of peaked, milky-white frosting. 

Ron gently clamped his large, vermillion-freckled hand over yours’, guiding your wrist in circular stirring motions to tint the heaps of icing. Ron’s chin rested on the crown of your head, his warm breath blowing strands of your hair to obscure your gorgeous, light-catching eyes. You paid no attention to the falling tresses of hair, instead you absorbed the familiar sensation of being held in Ron’s delicate arms; the knits and stitches of his homemade maroon sweater caressed your skin. 

Once the pigmented frosting was tightly wrapped in the metal-tipped piping bags, you daubed a thin crumb-coat onto the layered cake. When the coat had settled, cementing the loose specks of brown to the sponge, you smoothed on another layer of frosting, this time making it a silky, uncreased layer.

Soon enough, Ron was concentratedly piping an (uneven) border of blue around the base of the cake. Even though his strokes of frosting were messy, you admired his effort. His effort that was made quite prominent by the tip of his tongue poking out from his soft lips in focus, his minimally-blinking blue eyes glued to the slowly revolving cake.

“Honey, you did a splendid job. I’m so proud of you.” You pulled in a triumphant Ron for a tight, loving hug, twirling your fingers through his messy ginger hair. You were quick to notice little ivory specks of frosting was strewn through his fluffy locks. “How’d you manage to get frosting in your hair, silly?”

“It’s just part of the process of being a great baker, I guess.”

You both let out airy chuckles, your faces inching closer and closer. He finally pulled you by the hem of your apron into a sloppy, languid kiss, each succumbing to the familiar sensations of each other’s lips. The sensation you felt all those years ago after he confessed his love for you on a chilly night at Hogwarts, the sensation you felt dressed in a stunning sea of white on the day of your wedding, the sensation of his lips after looking at your son for the first time.

In quite a few minutes, after lingering kisses and tear-jerking memories came and went, you were back in the present, the clocks still ticking forward, finishing up the piping. You trimmed the sponge with varicoloured stripes and ribbons, meticulously spacing them out to perfection. 

After the last pinch of beads of sprinkles fell atop the cake like bittersweet summer rain, the cake was finally complete. It looked adorable, exactly like the baked goods that would be proudly displayed in the window of a bakery. Ron gave you a goofy high five (which was commonplace) in celebration; after your hands smacked together, he wrapped his fingers around your palm, your hand dwarfed by his’.

“You did a wonderful job, love. Everyone at his party’ll be dying to try a slice!” he praised, pulling you to his chest for a hug. 

You pulled back to glance up at his handsome face with doe eyes, his features illuminated by the golden, waning sunlight. Before you could give him a sweet reply and subsequent peck on his lips, he stated with a laugh, “Y/N, you have frosting on your nose.”

You retracted your hand from his sweater-clad chest, dipping your pointer finger into the leftover stash of glistening frosting before briskly smudging a streak of white across Ron’s sun-freckled nose, teasing, “now you do, too.”

“Oh, you’re in for it now!” Ron exclaimed mischievously, coating his hands into the bowl of sugary fluff, desperately attempting to slather your nose in white further. As the sunlight gradually faded away, and the moon elusively bathed your quaint house in pale beams, the evening was pin-drop silent and peaceful, except for the light, scampering footsteps and fearful giggling of you and your doting husband.

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode nineteen: Kyoya's sense of self!

Tw: assault, self harm, self hate

“Thanks for waiting for me, Kyoya.” Tamaki looked so tired, toying with his own hair nervously. He kept glancing down the hallway, clearly upset at having been yelled at. Kyoya couldn’t blame him, he hated being yelled at as well. Unfortunately Kyoya couldn’t comfort him as he wasn’t supposed to be aware, so he gave a soft half-smile and stepped forward.

“How did it go? Who was it?”

At that, Tamaki promptly burst into tears, clinging to Kyoya tightly, “she kissed me! She kissed me and then Haruhi yelled at me and- and…” he just started to wail at that point, clinging to Kyoya even tighter. Kyoya hated emotions and he had absolutely no idea how to deal with this, especially when the other hosts came out to see what all the noise was about.

“It’s alright, maybe she’s not really angry at you?” Kyoya remembered that when he was tiny and people still cared about him, how his older siblings would just pick him up whenever he was upset, not much else, just lift him up. Sadly, Kyoya wasn’t strong enough to pick Tamaki up, he was struggling to even hold him up as Tamaki cried.

The hosts helped Tamaki into the room, the twins asked what happened but Kyoya ignored them, cradling Tamaki to the best of his ability. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Tamaki…” to anyone hearing, he was whispering condolences to his friend, but for Kyoya, the statement was so much more. Kyoya felt incredibly guilty, that's why plan b had been a last resort, Kyoya hadn’t wanted to hurt Tamaki this much. He’d made Tamaki cry and he felt absolutely horrid and filthy about it.

After a while, Haruhi returned to the club room, looking furious. She sat down, clearly seething. The hosts swarmed her, asking what had happened, why was Tamaki crying? Haruhi told them that Sieka had kissed Tamaki, and that she had told Haruhi that he’d willingly gone to meet her. Tamaki couldn’t deny this, but honestly he wasn’t even trying, he was too busy crying. The hosts were clearly torn on who’s side to take, as Haruhi had clearly been wronged but Tamaki had clearly also been wronged, and he was the one crying about it.

“The letter wasn’t signed, he only went because he wanted to know who it was and why they’d write that kind of letter when the entire school is fully aware that he’s with you.” Kyoya glared daggers at her, knowing that it was a risky move, but he genuinely didn't care at this point, how dare she yell at Tamaki, "you're being selfish to think you were the only one hurt by that happening, look at him. Take a good look at that man and tell me you're angry at him, go ahead, we all know you don't love him so you have no right to scream at him for being assaulted!"

He'd stood up at that point, towering over Haruhi, who looked shocked and even guilty. The other hosts were shocked, but there were murmurs of agreement, then Honey spoke up, "Kyo-chan has a point… it really wasn't Tama-chan's fault."

Haruhi sighed, and took a step backwards, hand over her face, "god… I know, I know, I'm sor-"

"If you knew, then why would you scream at him?" Kyoya crossed his arms, moving his head slightly so the light stopped hiding his eyes and the other hosts could see the tears in his own eyes, "I'm getting to the end of my tether with you, Haruhi, if you hurt my friend again I swear-"

"Kyo-chan, calm down."

Kyoya tensed up, glancing back at him, then to Tamaki, the tears freeing themselves and spilling down his cheeks. He huffed and stormed out of the room, not wanting the others to see him cry. Once again his own guilt consumed him, he wondered if he was even allowed to feel guilty, wasn't he too evil for that at this point? He just went to sit in the library, cursing himself for leaving his laptop in the clubroom. He took out his notebook and a pen, entering a quick entry.

12:30 -I snapped at Haruhi, she’s angry at Tamaki, tamaki hasn’t done anything wrong. Sieka kissed him, it wasn’t like he wanted it. Although I suppose she’s supposed to get angry.

Kyoya wasn’t a fan of sketching with pen, but he didn’t have any pencils on hand. So he really had no choice, he didn’t even know what he was drawing, all he knew was that there were no construction lines in said drawing. It seemed to be a figure, surrounded by others, all eyes on the centre, a devil, an evil entity with no care for the pain behind him. Was this how Kyoya saw himself? Or was this just a thoughtless doodle? Even Kyoya didn't know.

Back in class, Tamaki quietly informed Kyoya that Haruhi wouldn't be joining them for the sleepover, or any of the after-session meetings for the week. Kyoya was fine with this, but expressed guilt for having snapped at her the way he did, glancing away from Tamaki as he did so. Tamaki seemed upset by this, putting a gentle hand on Kyoya's shoulder, "Kyoya… it's ok, I understand you're angry at her, you have every right to be. In fact, I'm happy that you're looking out for me, I don't know what I'd do without you."

He couldn't get those words out of his mind, what would Tamaki do without him… oh that was wonderful, to think Tamaki needed him, to think Tamaki appreciated him… it made Kyoya's heart swell. He simply adored the idea of Tamaki needing him, of course Tamaki needed him; who else was going to protect him from Haruhi? At first, Kyoya had thought he was the villain, he was willing to be the villain and just go full throttle into it… but as things progressed, he began to think that the villain was actually Haruhi. She didn't love Tamaki, she yelled at him, she was willing to brag about not loving him… she was so cruel, poor Tamaki didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

It was ok though, Kyoya would protect him. Kyoya wasn't willing to let his darling best friend get hurt, crush or no crush. The fact that Tamaki recognised and approved of Kyoya's defence of him, it made Kyoya so very very happy. He carried his newfound pride really well, standing up a little straighter and carrying himself better. The difference was visible but no one asked about it, probably because they were too scared. It had been a while since Kyoya seemed so together.

The rest of the day went by wonderfully, with nothing going wrong. Kyoya was quite happy, although the other hosts seemed a little hung up about the day's events. Whilst hosting, Haruhi kept glancing towards Tamaki, but Tamaki didn't even glance back at her, and that was the best feeling for Kyoya, he was finally getting his way. Haruhi was finally getting what she deserved, she should never have hurt Tamaki like that. It was her own fault.

By the end of the day, Tamaki was still being loud and excitable, but there was an underlying level of pain there. Kyoya did his best to keep Tamaki's mind away from Haruhi, even going so far as to suggest that Tamaki come over to his place for a little while. Obviously Tamaki was excited at the idea, and they were very quickly sitting in the limo, with Tamaki babbling on about all the fun things they could do once they got there. Kyoya didn't say much, just stared at him from behind his glasses, enjoying the sound of Tamaki's voice.

He couldn't help but to wonder how it was for Sieka, how did it feel to kiss Tamaki? Kyoya knew Tamaki wore lipgloss, he couldn't remember what flavour Tamaki had said it was though, so he wasn't sure how it would taste but he knew it would be good. Tamaki hadn't wanted to kiss Sieka, so he likely didn't cooperate with her, but Kyoya couldn't help but imagine how amazing a kiss that was precipitated would be, the way Tamaki moved would be felt through every breath, life and love flourishing on his tongue as the world melted away… just the idea was enough to drive Kyoya mad.

That evening was wonderful, they listened to music and did homework together. Kyoya found it easier to bring himself to do things when Tamaki was there, he wasn't sure if it was the aura of energy or the pressure to look good in front of his crush. The reason didn't really matter, but the main point was that Kyoya was enjoying spending some time with Tamaki. After around two hours, or maybe an hour and a half, Tamaki spoke up with something that caught Kyoya off guard.

"Have you been hurting yourself lately?"

Oh, Kyoya hadn't been expecting that. He suddenly felt unsure, had he? He struggled to recall, the entirety of last week had been a blur for him really, so he wasn't sure what was what. “Well my bodyguards took my razors so…” that was before getting grounded wasn’t it? For some reason Kyoya knew he remembered sitting on the bathroom floor at some point that week and- “the scissors,” his words took the both of them off-guard, Tamaki glanced up from where he had been gazing at the cup of tea in his hands.

“What?”

“I took the twins' fabric shears... “ Kyoya paused for a moment, realising that his victory of memory was not going to be as much of a victory in Tamaki’s eyes, and that he’d just confessed to more self harm. “I…” the weight of what he’d just told the blonde dawned on him and he remembered how he’d promised to never let Tamaki see him like that again, “I’m sorry…”

He hadn’t been expecting to be sweeped up in a big hug and given small kisses on the top of his head, Tamaki had shouted something in french and continued to murmur french words to him softly as Kyoya just sat there in his arms. It was wonderful and though Kyoya was shaking he still felt tingles on his skin every time it brushed against Tamaki’s own. Only when the air was still and Kyoya had stopped crying- he had been crying? Only when there was silence did Tamaki speak words that Kyoya understood, pressing their foreheads together, “never apologize for that, ok? It wasn’t me you hurt, I’m just upset because I care about you and don’t want to see you hurt. The person you’re hurting is yourself, but I think that person doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. You're hurting my best friend, Kyoya, can you promise me you’ll stop hurting my best friend? I know you’re in pain, I know that’s why you caused more, and I’m trying to help you, okay? But I can’t help if you don’t let me, please tell me if there's something I can do to make you feel better, is there?”

Kyoya didn’t want to move, making the barest little nod possible, but Tamaki understood and smiled. He didn’t want to speak as he spoke, hearing his voice and how pained and weak he sounded, it was awful… “can you stay with me tonight..? I don't want to be alone…"

Surprisingly, Tamaki agreed, and he even set up a blanket and pillow fort for them to sit in. Kyoya could be distracted from his all consuming guilt for a moment or two when Tamaki pulled him in close and wrapped a blanket around the both of them, he was so warm… it was hard to think in a situation like that. With every slow breath and chuckle that made Tamaki's chest shift just a little, with every little blue or gold sparkle in his violet eyes that seemed like the stars in the sky, with every little hum that left his lips and floated in the air giving off warmth, Kyoya fell just a little more in love.

Love was a funny thing; Kyoya had always thought it was stupid, just a chemical reaction, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was actually a very romantic person. There was nothing Kyoya wanted more than to simply be help by someone who saw him, someone who understood who he was and who he wanted to be. That was what made this so much worse, the fact that Kyoya was now a horrible person made him scared for Tamaki to see him for what he was. He would never be seen, he could never be loved… not like this.

The thing that brought Kyoya hope, however, was the fact that Tamaki had always been one to look through a person, to see the person they wanted to be. He'd always encouraged Kyoya to be the person Kyoya had always dreamed to be, but now that dream was unclear; constantly shifting and changing, Kyoya didn’t know who he wanted to be anymore, it was so strained and fuzzy for him. The idea of the true self was slipping from his grasp as he made each step towards what he wanted, narrowly avoiding his doom at the hands of his own psyche. It was beginning to grow too much for even him to handle, but he didn’t trust himself to even try to do anything about it, what if he hurt people more?

A song, a lullaby in a tongue too foreign for Kyoya to understand, but familiar enough for him to name it. Tamaki ran his fingers through the villain’s hair, grounding Kyoya as he let the words wrap like a blanket. He was singing softly, Kyoya couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard tamaki sing- had he ever? The sound was wonderful, something to make him relax. Kyoya was a beast in that moment, an animal, he didn't trust himself to speak nor move, only laying, shivering in the blonde’s arms. Kyoya thought back to how he’d hurt everything, the people he’d cared for. He silently prayed for forgiveness, not to any god- Kyoya wasn’t a man of faith, but he had faith in his friends, he hoped when the truth came undone, they’d see through his actions to see who he was inside.

He made a promise, to them and to himself; there would be no pain caused nor received all week, they all deserved a reprieve. Kyoya knew he had a large amount of control over the pain his friends were experiencing, but as he caught a glimpse of the sadness in Tamaki’s eyes, he prayed Haruhi would allow them all to rest.

[anonymousflubber]

How Not to Keep an Eye on a Lion Cub

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

-Leona was off sleeping in one of his usual spots while Ruggie was left with a tiny visitor that he was in charge of keeping an eye on. -

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

"So. You're a prince huh?"

Ruggie questioned as a tiny red-orange haired lion cub was doodling on some of his History homework. It looked like he was drawing a giraffe but Ruggie couldn't remember the last time he saw a pink giraffe in the savanna.

Cheka smiled and nodded as a response to the Hyenas question. 

"Yep! Papa says I'm gonna be the king one day and rule over Alllllllll of the kingdom!!" 

When saying this the cub made sure to sit up and stretch his arms as far as he could to somehow show a physical representation of his future kingdom's size. 

Ruggie chuckled. He's surprised that the kid wasn't as annoying as Leona made him out to be. Of course he talks a lot but somehow Ruggie feels compelled to listen.  Maybe it's his instincts to listen to royalty. Even if that was it Cheka was surprisingly good at speaking and telling stories though most of them were about Leona...man does this kid not hang out with anyone else?. 

" I'm guessing you've been taking some sort of classes to be prepared for this right?" 

" Mhm. They aren't fun so i like to hide in the garden and play with the fishes in the pond till the guards , papa , or Mr. Zazul finds me." 

Ruggies ear twitched at the unfamiliar name.

"Mr. Zazul?" 

"He's like papa's helper. I don't really know what he does but i know he loves doing it. It's really fun when we play tag!" Cheka stands so he can demonstrate what playing tag is like moving side to side and tagging the older Hyena. "Whenever I tag him he sounds like he squacks its hilarious! I get in trouble if i get caught though, Mr. Zazul doesn't really enjoy playing…..i really wish i had someone to play with when Uncle Leona isn't around."

 The cub plopped back down on the floor, his face growing sad. 

This is bad usually when kids get sad they cry right? Ruggie doesn't know if royal kids are different then the kids in the slums. The most he knows is that Leona rarely shows any emotions other than being angry or annoyed and Cheka is the Complete opposite! 

The hyena thinks for a bit then remembers what always cheered up the kids he took care of in the neighborhood. He stood and picked the tiny lion up. 

"No need to be sad bud you got me right now!" Ruggie lifts and turns Cheka in different ways when in the air as if he was an airplane causing the lion cub to burst into laughter, his tail swishing around in excitement. 

"So what do you wanna play? Tag? Chess? Hide and go find the sleeping leona? Pin the tail on the big bad wolf?" The last game suggestion caught Jack's attention who was working on homework nearby but he quickly ignored what was said and got back to his work.  

Cheka stopped laughing and began to think about what game he'd like to play. After a few seconds his smile grew when he decided on what he wanted to do. 

"Hide and go seek!" 

Ruggies ear twitched and he sighed.

"You sure you don't want to play Hide and go find the sleeping leona? 

"Im sure" 

"You 1000% sure" 

The cub crossed his arms and gave Ruggie an angry look which kinda resembled that of leona….scary how these 2 are related…

"Fine i give in we will play hide and go seek" 

Chekas normal smile reappeared and he squirmed out of Ruggies grasp plopping onto the floor. 

"I hide you seek!!" The cub stared at Ruggie waiting for him to cover his eyes. 

Ruggie didn't see any problem with this choice...and he also didn't know if the prince could count to 10..so he covered his eyes and began the countdown. 

What he didnt think of was how sneaky the cub was after his eyes were covered. Cheka snuck out of the dorm as quick as he could and went on an adventure to do who knows what. 

"3...2…

..1.. ! Ready or not here I come!!!" 

The hyen uncovered his eyes feeling confident in his finding skills as he strolled around the savannaclaw common room looking under pillows or behind couches. 

The cub seemed to be a pretty good hider…"I wonder if Leona taught him some tips" Ruggie began to think. 

A minute went by...then 2...then 7..Ruggie still hasn't found the little lion even after searching the whole dorm..3 times! 

Oh no. 

He lost the prince!! 

Ruggie sat on a couch trying to think of where he could have possibly gone. What if he never finds him? Will he get arrested?? Is this treason????? No. No that doesn't make sense. All he needs to do is stay calm and ask around. 

So he does just that! 

Ruggie goes to the cafeteria first knowing that by now the cub could be hungry….what if he starved to death how long can a prince go with no food?? Leona eats a hefty amount but Cheka is so small what if he's shriveled up into a raisin due to dehydration. 

This was supposed to be a simple , easy game that requires little effort in taking care of a child. Not a game of where could this very important prince be and is he hurt cause leona will kill me if the child gets as much as a splinter. 

~ 1 hour later ~

"Where could he be…" 

Ruggie ran through almost every part of the school he could get into and found 0 traces of the future king. He was starting to give up and decided to head back to the dorm and ask for extra help even if it meant using some of his lunch money to persuade some students. 

As he entered the dorm he saw something he didn't expect. Something that made his smile take up his whole face. 

Cheka! He was there asleep on a couch no angry leona nearby he was safe!!! 

The hyena jogged to the tiny cub and looked over him making sure he wasn't hurt or dead. Thankfully there was no scar in sight. 

Now Ruggie could relax, maybe take a small nap until Leona finds his way back. He decides to do just that closing his eyes and laying back his usual smirk on his face and his ears twitching every now and then. Once he got nice and comfy. Arms propped behind his head he opened his eyes to look up at the ceiling and think about how great he did. 

One problem..

When he opened his eyes he didn't see the usual plain tan ceiling. What stood before him was the 2nd prince himself...Leona Kingscholar with his usual angry scowl. 

"H-Hey Leona-san" 

"Hyena." 

[ghoulishhusband]

I just realized I can actually talk here. Like this is my account fuck u

Fucking uhhhhhh, hi ig lemme ramble abt my God ocs yea?

Ignore this part if you don't wanna hear (likely) unedited rambles lol it doesn't matter

CW: neglect/abuse, assholery/narcissism, manipulation, tread lightly!

read the under cut owo

Also don't steal my art I'll fucking?? Fight you????

So

I have three main gods that I wanna talk abt especially bc they've been on my mind lately.. Less get it, side notes are in (parentheses) and are bolded cause I have perception issues whoo I don't want it to jumble together is my point lol

First up is my asshole,

Giodine

they/them (preferred)

god/godself (i like pronouns that fit my characters, so I'm giving a bunch away for one night only at--)

ID : Giodine is colored with gold-ish yellow skin and ginger hair. Their eyes are a muted purple and they have tiny eyebrows. Their lips are a muted brown and are full looking, their nose is sharp and points down. They have wings for ears and is wearing a blazer with a long-sleeved, collared shirt underneath it. The background is beige with a yellow square and a dark purple square partially encompassing it. It is signed GH (for ghoulish husband), Spork, 21.

(lemme know if that helps at all! I'm sure I can do better so lemme know!)

If they look weird here it's bc I accidentally made their face too long but believe it or not this is in fact just a doodle Ik I'm so fuckin talented babes.

Anyways, they're basically the first God to ever exist on my version of earth (though even that is fickle rn, world-building is hard unless I hyper-focus on it, and haha Guess What I Haven't Been Thinking About) and they're very egotistical and selfish. As I'll probably yap about later is how they're manipulative as well, especially to another God I'll mention, and very neglectful to the other... other one.

Their partner(professionally), or fiend as they call him, is sam who for the first few eons was, unsurprisingly, absolutely terrible to him. A few tender moments are few and far in between in what could only be described as a completely rancid relationship. I'll describe giodine's side and in sam's lil ramble, I'll describe his :]

I have to explain this because it's a big part of the lore and how they can't work together, even when one of them is very much near The Void (technical death for gods) BUT basically, with Sam, giodine created purgatory. The issue here is that they basically seduced sam into doing it. Well, even if they hadn't, sam was in lesbians(happy pride month lmao) with giodine and would've done it anyway. But the ISSUE is that with the creation of purgatory came complications. See, my gods have to take time to develop into their power, and considering giodine was first and sam was around 666th.. you see the issue. Sam wasn't into his complete power yet and thus lost a giant part of it that went into purg.

See, giodine saw no problem with this (until much later, they do get a VERY SLOW BURN redemption arc cause this ain't even the worst of it), they got what they were aching for out of them and thusly had no need for..sam. They laid him in the spot where she was made (fwi it isn't inherently sexual, it can be, but literally, they just merged together-- taking bits and pieces of each other (which sam did not have enough of) and earth and light yadda, yadda I'll post the story I wrote for that later if I'm up to it) and left him there in the grass.

Again, they saw no problem with that, the deed was done, they didn't care anymore. A common issue in their qualms, sam and Giodine. They did find an issue in Sam finding an issue in the lack of aftercare, which resorted to any message going to or coming from sam going straight to his assistant and going back through them for a couple of thousand years. They found that infuriating-- how could he not face them over something so small! and for years?! it was ridiculous. After forcing a face-to-face meeting, a heated proclaim of hurt from sam, and a bitter agreement to meet up every now and again, they got what they wanted from him. Again. It was a business after all, there was no point in making it harder than it needed to be. 

Giodine doesn't necessarily like boundaries and tends to overstep sam's frequently. They also don't like his reaction to his boundaries being long jumped over, which thusly ends up in disgruntled messages being sent back and forth between them and his assistant for a month or three. It slowly gets through to them, but they tend to say some stupid shit and if they want sam to stay, they have to try and avoid mentioning how "overly sensitive" he is to something that happened eons ago.

(quick mention, there isn't like. time. here. so in all honesty, giodine probably counted earth days instead of Heaven 'days' to get that) Soon into their arrangements to meet, they seem to get on at least tolerable terms, obviously, a few meetings where neither of them feels like going apeshit and taking proper shapeless (or in sams case, he's got a newfound form for ANGER OO just for giodine 🤗) forms isn't going to fix a grudge that has yet to be apologized for by the way. But it's a start to a very long process down the road. Tolerance.

Giodine as an entity is very fickle and rude and demanding. They tend to have a short temper that no one else is allowed to have or comment on-- They were the first therefore they were the most important!

This is very obviously an issue. But it's mostly directed to purgatory. Almost all of their seething rage is pointed towards the poor entity, she's barely been alive yet and they already seem to hate her for things she doesn't know how to do. Honestly, I don't think Purg will ever fully forgive them for the unnecessary abuse of her character, but just as Sam and Giodine get on better terms, they had barely just begun fixing the hole in their relationship. As of now, Sam/Giodine don't have any minor plot points with purgatory other than the major one so I don't have a lot to say about their relationship right now. Maybe one day.

I'd go into details, seriously, but I just wanna ramble about their relationships with each other and their impact on each other's existence. Hope you don't mind a few secrets 😉

But, now, it's time for a new God, one I think most people take a liking to...

Sam (Samuel)

He/him

ID: Sam is surrounded by clouds in the light blue, fading to a darker blue sky and the yellow sun. His horns are a darker beige, which is being highlighted by the sun shining down on him, he also has pointed ears. His skin is red which is very prominent in the sun. His eyes are completely yellow, his hair, beard and mustache are also black. He has an orange scar crawling up to his Adams apple. His wings are a darker grey which is also being highlighted by the sun. His nails are painted black and his hand is holding up the black fabric barely covering his shoulders. Around the painting is a gold and red shaded frame with swirls complimenting each side and a crystal at the bottom of it. It is lightly signed GH, for ghoulish husband.

Sam, Sam, Samuel.

If you don't realize right away, Sam is basically Satan, he's the ruler of hell

Like how giodine was the first to appear on earth, as mentioned before sam was 666th for funnie reasons. Sam was made from bugs, dried blood, and sunlight which sounds pretty gross, but he's far from it. He's a silly, yet neat, guy. He wears Hawaiian shirts and khakis (not around giodine lmao) for cryin' out loud! how bad of a person can he be? Apparently to giodine (for a while obviously) he was the most retched entity to exist. This very much hurt him considering the amount of fake care they showed him before. With a mixture of confusing feelings (which wasn't supposed to be a thing but Univerce went "lmao you'll be fine" and left... short explanation, Univerce is the Universe and is the entity who simply builds these planets and gods that'll appear there and leave them to their own devices, xyr not extremely important in this story. Nor would they care.) and feeling used, he decided that no he wasn't going to take that.

If there is one thing Sam knows how to do is to self preserve himself, even if that means getting passive-aggressive notes sent to him every once in a while. While this period, Sam was surprisingly the least productive (unfortunately giodine knew this and eventually mentioned it in one of their meetings which made him hide away cause like hell giodine was going to be critical of /him/) but he managed. It wasn't terrible, but unfortunately, Sam being able to talk it out with someone who does practically the same work as he does and gets newer, more helpful ideas was better in the long run.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the first to initiate the healing of his and giodine's relationship but it wasn't reciprocated. Who would've figured, aye? Giodine kept pushing it back onto him and ignoring any progress that could've been made before. Which was frustrating.

The painting above was 'painted' by giodine, which is sorta where their relationship gets somewhat on an understanding of each other. Giodine gets to take a deep long look into who Sam is and tries to express it but it never fit him, it makes them realize that they never really-- truly got to know him. And all it does for Sam is make him even more confused about his place in giodine’s mind. He figured it's another fluke to get him to do something, so he ends up distancing himself when they start actually reciprocating his friendship advancements.

Suddenly, like a flash, Sam was forced to stay with giodine which is where the majority. I'll explain.

Sam...isn't actually the ruler of hell. Anymore, anyways depending on the timeline. His and purgatory's relationship has always been complicated, she always avoided him, and when they talked she always seemed scared of him. So in the end, they've never been close. Distant. Sam always wanted to talk to her, he made her, but if she didn't want to talk to him he wouldn't force it. But imagine his surprise as Purg singlehandedly took over hell in a hazed frenzy.

And not only that, had a personal vendetta against him!

Well, that would be the only explanation to Sam considering how he ended up broken and barely 'alive' at the hands of her. Horns broken and in tatters, pain and almost obliterated it felt like a hate crime. He didn't know what to do when he made it to the office, Purgatory was creating chaos outside his door and barely being able to breathe he felt like it was the end. So he called giodine. 

Purgatory

She/her

ID: Purgatory is surrounded by flowers that are dark grey and white. The light fades down into a dark green. The light shines down on top of her straight, white hair that has yellow flowers tucked into it.  Her skin is a dark brown and has a orange-ish yellow scar on her shoulder trailing up to her neck. Her skin is also highlighted by the sun. In one of her eyes, her sclera is black with an orangey, glowing iris. As for the other eye it it has a white sclera and the same, glowing orange iris. She has wings for ears, one dark grey and one white along with beige horns. She has a white fabric covering her chest. The frame is gold with white accents, but also has vines and moss crawling up the side. 

(may have goofed a bit and forgot to color the sclera of her other eye white but ignore that pls)

Purgatory was made by Sam and Giodine, but to her it felt like a mistake. Why make someone that you’re going to be terrible to, she believed. Giodine seemed to hate her and eventually made her section almost obsolete because she simply wasn’t able to keep up with the backlog that she wasn’t taught to deal with. Not only that, she didn’t have any help with any of it, it was almost like she was expected to just do it on her own. Until Death came along to help, but that’s not what we’re going to be talking about right now. 

And also, Purgatory is Purgatory yadda, yadda, I wont insult your intelligence.

Giodine’s thought process (other than wanting to be Real Close to Sam and once that thought filtered out, promptly ignored it) was that all the extras that don’t fit in either category of their thought of good and evil they’d go to her. (doesn’t matter cause in Sam's system it filters through ‘levels of assholery’ and depending on how bad you are you either just vibe in the upper city under rule of capitalism and possibly many under paying jobs or being actually tortured for his amusement if you’re just evil. Morally grey. Anyway, it could work p well in heaven if giodine wasn’t such a damn stickler.) But in the end, every day, less and less people ended up in purgatory, leaving her with barely any people and more verbal abuse from giodine who ‘HAS to take them or they would be more dead than they already are’. You see the pain she has to go through, right? 

~Idea section, this is probably not canon anyways so dont take it serious~ 

My thought is that another oc (BA, you may have heard of him idk) takes over simply because Purg took multiple hims from alternative timelines (which isn’t allowed but what’re they gonna do, undead a dead clown? multiple times from multiple timelines???)) because she adored him and they figured ‘well we gotta redo purgatory may as well do it like this’ and make him a demi-dead-god. i think thats a cool idea right? anyhoo

~Idea section over uwu~

Purgatory overall is a fairly timid character, she doesn’t like conflict, is easily overwhelmed, and generally keeps to herself. She doesn’t see the point in being in any drama if she’s just going to be yelled at and scolded even if it’s not about her. The only way i could describe her taking over hell is this: 

She was tired. She was angry and after feeling like nothing was in control or in her hands, she snapped. Why doesn’t she get anything or get to be ‘all powerful’ but they do? She knew if she took on Giodine she’d likely get thrown to the void, but sam? He felt fair game. Considering her fear of both of these gods, she planned and got her courage up to take him over. She had considered negotiations but in the end, she ended up going into a haze and ruining everything in sight. She was more powerful than she thought and once she started, she didn't stop until Death restrained her and Sam was already in pieces at God’s doorstep. 

The aftermath was fuzzy for her and for everyone really. Godine was planning a take back hell while actually worrying for sam, sam was planning for a retirement, and she was being consoled while trying to get in contact with sam to apologize. Giodine wouldn’t dare let her talk to him, until she just showed up in their office. She didn’t have a problem with Sam, honest, she just was going to take shit over, but it got out of control. 

Spoiler, Sam took her apology and they actually became.. somewhat closer after reaching an understanding. 

I wanna say that giodine took them being okay and sam retiring as good as sam did about purg running hell, but they didn’t. Giodine and purgatory actually barely got along in the first place, and only begun ‘working’ on their bitterness toward each other because they both had sam to encourage it. I can’t say for certain if they’ll get better, as theyre both undying and have time, but I’ll just say for now its uncertain. 

Also, Death is Purgatory’s girlfriend after all of that lmao.

And.. yeah, i hope this makes sense and that you like my drawings and ramblings about my lil story in my head, i guess this is my way to develop it without just keeping it to myself cause god forbid i keep things to myself hshsh. If you made it to the end, thank you for taking the time to read and attempting to process everything, and even if you didnt read and just looked to look at my art thank you to!!

I may post some art over on @ghoulishhusbandart cause.. it was my art account before i completely forgot about it but i might reboot it! But if you wan art NEOWWW follow me on insta (ik cringe lmaoo) by the same name as this account @ghoulishhusband​ or just click that insta link! also ignore the fact that giodine is the only one without a portrait, maybe I’ll replace it the next time i draw but im graduating on monday and my dad’s coming TOMORROW?? so i won’t have too much time to do it... but i hope you like my art anyways :]

ok!! ty!! ily!!

[pj-nothingmorethanwhirlwind]

3. OF RUBBING, SHOUTING AND LEAVING

Julia POV

When we arrived in Seattle, it was already past midnight. The sky was clouded and the city lights created an odd kind of halo above it. There was a cool, gentle breeze and a fine rain was pouring down, catching glimpses of street lanterns. The city seemed calm, sleepy but not asleep, a weird mixture of idleness and silent, well-hidden persistence.

"You OK, kiddo?" Jack asked, sounding almost sorry to leave me behind. To tell the truth, I myself was unsure whether I wanted to stay in this city, where every thought of too loud or too quick motion seemed to just vanish under the deep, heavy calmness. Did I want to stay there, be a roommate of some person I've never met, probably someone square and boring as the whole city, with a shirt collar peeking from under an old, grey, knitted sweater? Was this my idea of a great adventure in America, getting to know the beautiful mountains and beaches and fields? It was not, but I was there anyway. Maybe a greater force, a destiny or fate had pushed me there. You always find what you're looking for in the most unexpected places, my mother used to say. Well, maybe this was my unexpected place, even though I didn't really know what I was looking for-Thus a privilege of youth, I thought, amused. What would anyone here in Seattle think of me if I said that out loud? My English unfortunately consisted of many unuseful phrases I had stolen from Shakespeare or Byron.

Jack was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I hesitated, then nodded. "I'll be OK, I guess."

"Good. I'm gonna call my friend, the one who's looking for a roommate."

"Wait, isn't it, like, 1 in the morning?"

"Oh don't worry, they're only getting started by now." Jack shot me a mischievous grin and wandered to the nearby pay phone. First, there was no answer. Then Jack decided to dial another number. After a while, I decided to follow, curious.

"What do you mean, you don't know where he is? - OK, yeah, whatever. - So you good with that? - Great. - Yeah, see you around. - Oh, she's sweet, don't worry. - Bye, Xana."

Jack turned to me and I blushed a little, suddenly embarrassed I had eavesdropped on the conversation, even when it was about me.

"That was Xana, she lives there too. So, my friend without a roommate, his name's Chris. Nice guy, he's in a band. He's roommate with this couple, Andy and Xana, Andy's also in a band. Uh, Chris is away right now, god knows where, but I'm gonna take you to Andy and he's gonna take you there, to the apartment."

"Can't you take me there?"

"I could, but there's no one in there. I don't wanna leave you at their front door, waiting for god knows how long till they return."

"What about this Xana girl?"

"She's not there, she's at Demri's."

"Who's Demri?"

"This girl, the last time I checked she was dating Layne."

"Who's Layne?"

"Uh, man, that's getting way too complicated," Jack laughed. "He's also in a band. Come, you'll soon wrap your head around it, I promise."

I followed to the car, then stopped.

"Is there, like, someone who's not in a band?"

Jack laughed again, than Dave's head popped out from the car.

"I'm not, I got kicked out a while ago."

We got in the car and Jack drove us through the empty streets. There were a few buses we missed, most of them empty. I felt a sudden pang of nostalgia, I was gonna miss these guys, even though I met them just a few days ago.

"That's our part of the town," Jack exclaimed. There was little difference at first glance, but soon I realized what he meant. The buildings had a few graffiti on it, there were flyers and posters on the walls and street lanterns.

Jack pulled up in front of an old building, its facade peeling down, a heavy door doodled with random names and symbols. He left the engine running, got out, then opened my door and lead me to the trunk. We dug out my backpack and a little rugged handbag I always carried around and headed to the door.

"Make sure to come say goodbye before you leave with these cool dudes waiting inside!" Dave shouted from the car and I had to laugh.

Soon, the door buzzed and we entered. The building smelled like a latex paint, spilled beer, and paper, and I kind of liked it. There weren't many places that gave straight away a creative vibe, and this place certainly did. We heard a faint strumming and humming and Jack lead the way down the stairs, just where the sounds were coming from.

He tapped the door and opened, there was a dimly lit room behind, with a once red carpet on the floor, papers and instruments everywhere. In the back, there was a drum set, the walls were decorated with Post-Its, on the ground or laid agains the walls there were all sorts of guitars- I saw a cherry burst Les Paul (literally the only brand I could recognize), some acoustic ones, some electric. In the middle there was a mic stand and in front of it, an old couch and two men.

The first one sat on the ground, turned to the couch, cross-legged, strumming through guitar strings. He was lean, had long, dark hair and wore a baggy shirt with bright green shorts underneath. I wasn't sure I could trust a guy with such questionable fashion choices. The other one was more muscular, wearing an off-shoulder tank top, with a bandana wrapped around his head and messy, brownish hair. The both of them stopped playing when they noticed us and exchanged quick looks. No one said anything for a while.

"Uh, this is Julia," Jack said then. Well, that was weird. Suddenly, everything got into motion.

"Fuck, man, I didn't recognize you for a sec there! Thought you were some weirdo who got lost. We haven't seen you in a long while, dude!" The one with the bandana got up from the couch and laughed shortly, big grin plastered on his face. He hugged Jack, then turned to his friend. This one was spinning around his axis, trying to free himself from a cable plucked in his guitar.

"Uh, yeah, be with you in a minute, just trying-" He stopped abruptly when the bandana-man simply unplucked the cable and smiled.

"Oh, thanks." He also hugged Jack with one arm, saying: "Long time no see, man."

Jack smiled, shook his head and motioned to me. "Wish I could stay longer, but we haven't eaten yet and I'm just stopping here. Delivering this one to mister Chris Cornell himself, but the man is hard to pin down."

"Sure," both of them nodded, seeming unsure what it has to do with them. Then both of them turned their faces to me.

"Uh, I'm Jeff," the one with the bandana introduced himself.

"Julia," I smiled, and shook his hand.

"You shake hands," he laughed and pulled me into a quick, hesitant hug. We both smiled, more warmly this time.

"Yeah, I'm Stone," interrupted the other one with a smirk. "No hugs from me, sorry."

I nodded.

"Is Andy around?" Jack asked.

"No, man, he left just ten minutes ago. Went to some bar or whatever."

"I don't suppose you know where?"

Again, both of them nodded at the same time.

"OK, good, then we will go grab something to eat and we'll stop by later?" Jack asked.

"Alright, man, let's get this straight, I know what you want. We can take her to Cornell's, but I don't know if there's gonna be someone in there," Jeff sighed.

"Andy's gonna be there of course."

"Uh, I don't think so, dude. Andy's...." He seemed to be looking for the right words, then simply decided to let go. "Things are difficult with him lately."

"Huh?"

"Man, it's hard to talk to you 'bout it, I mean, after Slovak. But Andy's got issues and, uh, it's not just fun and games as it used to."

I noticed a slight change in Jack's expression, a flash of pain and.. regret? guilt? Sooner than I could figure it out, it was gone.

"Sure, then..."

Jeff turner to me, fidgeted a little, then slowly said: "I can take you to my place, if it's OK with you. And tomorrow I'll drive you to Cornell's."

"Thanks," I nodded.

"We'll be back in half an hour? Hour?" Jack asked.

"Hour would be better," Stone said. He seemed like a quiet one, but maybe he was.. irritated with me? Angry he had to take care of some girl Jack brought along? You're overthinking this again, you're overanalyzing, girl, a radar went off in my head. I sighed. Stone waved awkwardly and turned back to his guitar.

I left my stuff at the door and followed Jack back to his car, seeing Dave waving from behind the window.

"Hey, I'm not leaving yet," I laughed as soon as I opened the door.

"No?" he asked, a little confused.

"Andy's not here," Jack explained, sounding tired. "We'll go grab some terrible fast food and come back in an hour or so."

We ended up in Dick's Drive-In. The place was almost empty, there was a teenage couple in one of the booths and one old man across the diner. The place was small, with tired service and a little bit too cold food. In a while, we were all sitting squashed in the only booth that seemed to be able to pass the hygiene control, the guys eating burgers and fries. I had to settle for fries in a tiny paper box which Dave gladly decorated with "FRIES- Saving herbivores since 1920 AD" title.

"You know, technically I'm not a herbivore. I eat eggs and cheese and stuff, I just don't eat meat."

"Yeah I know.. Well I didn't know until you told me, but it makes sense I guess." We all laughed and Dave continued. "Now I get why I didn't get to a college."

"You didn't get through admission exams?"

"They do that?"

I studied his face for a while, trying to decide whether he was joking or not. "You didn't go through admissions, and still expected to get to the college?" I asked slowly.

"Nah man, I never really tried to get in there, I dropped out of high school. I was just trying to pretend I'm not a fucking tramp." Dave laughed. We all laughed too, but in my mind, I thought In every joke there's a little bit of truth. I'd bet somewhere deep down, it was really bugging him. I reached to his hand and gently squeezed it, trying my best to seem reassuringly.

"You know, one tramp is worth at least ten neat handed square copies of J. Evans Pritchard, PhD., OK?" I smiled.

"You know the movie? Damn, girl..." he smiled too, more sincerely this time. "I'm really starting to envy these guys who're gonna get you now."

I made a small "aww" and squeezed his hand again, mindlessly playing with a wooden ring he was wearing on his littlefinger.

"You'll come see me again some time, won't you?" I asked silently. I liked the rest of the group, I really did, but I didn't really consider them friends. But with Dave, we just.. clicked. Jack Irons was sweet, he helped me a lot, and the rest of them were fine too, but Dave was just something extra.

"Of course. Now stop this thing you are doing, it's growing increasingly uncomfortable."

I stopped and looked in his face, confused. He just shook hid head and laughed, catching me in a little embrace.

"Dude, that's like some shit from a movie right there!" one of the guys exclaimed loudly and we both turned to him. His face was hidden behind a big black camera with the rest of the group tucked behind him, watching the screen, Jack Irons looking at us like a pround director. Apparently, they had filmed something of the last moments while we were too caught in our bubble. And they found it terribly amusing.

"Dave, if I were you I wouldn't leave her behind buddy," Jack smiled and wandered away, seeming a little bit off.

We smiled at each other. Our hour had almost passed and I soon had to tell goodbye to the guys and go meet two strange men who didn't seem very keen on babysitting me for the remainder of the night.

"You think I should bring them something to eat? And some coffee?" I asked.

Dave smiled and nodded, getting up to keep me company while I order the food.

I ordered burgers with fries for both Stone and Jeff, hoping they won't have any moral objections. Then I decided on one simple black coffee and one latte, and a coffee with milk for myself. Dave helped me carry the food to the car while I carried the cup holder.

"They are really lucky to get you," he noted while I was getting in the car. "I'll come see you as soon as I can."

I hugged him and we drove the entire way back in silence. When we parked at the same spot we did an hour ago, I felt hot tears in my eyes. I quickly blinked to get rid of them.

Dave hugged me tighter, making sure I didn't drop the tray with coffees with one hand.

"I hate saying goodbyes," I said, my voice suddenly weak and raspy.

"Yeah, me too. Never was good at it." He seemed sad too, or maybe just my imagination was kicking in. "I'll come see you, OK? I mean it. Be sure to stay safe and sound until then."

That was when I lost my fight agains tears.

"What kind of fucking weird name is Stone, huh?" I sobbed and we both laughed, trying to make it through the goodbye without too much damage on our reputation.

"I'm gonna walk you down there," Dave offered and I nodded. The rest of the group quickly hugged me and promised to see me again someday. Jack Irons kissed me on both cheeks and embraced me tightly. Then, he whispered: " Irons is my real name, by the way. I know you've been wondering about that all along."

We laughed, then the door buzzed and Dave escorted me to the basement.

With his hand on the handle, he hesitated. I turned my face to his, ready to ask what's wrong, when I heard what stopped him: there were hudhed voices coming from the inside, sounding as if the people speaking were rather raising them than lowering. I figured they had to shout-whisper because they were too afraid someone might hear.

I looked to Dave with a question in the eyes, wordlessly asking if we should eavesdrop. He understood what I had in mind an shrugged uncertainly, then moved closer to the door. I followed, placing the tray with drinks and bag with food on the floor.

"What the hell do you think about yourself Stone, huh?" I recognized Jeff's voice. He sounded as if he had had this conversation a couple of times before. "That's not just 'bout yourself. Not about me either. Get over it man."

"The fuck? Every time you tell me this, you do exactly what I told you not to do, and then you come to me a week later crying over how everything got fucked!"

"Sure, Stone, whatever. I'm sick of this. You know what- I wouldn't even care anymore, 'cause I should have already gotten used to it, but now it's simply not only about me and you. She needs a place to stay and I want her around. I don't need your sail of approval."

There's was a pause and I considered opening the door, then Jeff started talking again. His voice seemed more calm and tired this time, but he was talking with a slight urgency.

"Everytime there's this, everytime you and I disagree because you think you're so smart and so clever and so fucking better than everytime around you - no, let me just finish- everytime I say 'okay, whatever, let's figure this out, let's find some middle way' and everytime-everytime we do it your way because you're psyching over what could go wrong if we don't listen to you, and because you simply cannot take being not listened to. But now you don't even know that girl and you say she's no good straight away, and you say you think 'bout Andy and Chris and the band, but all you're really saying is that you're an asshole who decided he doesn't like her and that's why you're not even giving her a chance."

I slowly got the drinks and opened the door. Jeff was standing with his back turned to Stone, visibly irritated. Stone seemed upset. His eyes immediately darted to me and his lips curled in a displeased grimace.

Jeff turned to me as well, his expression guilty.

"Hey- uh, I'm.. I'm sorry."

I just shook my head and offered a weak smile. "That's okay."

Stone grabbed his guitar and a big with some things and left before I - we - could say anything, offering only a simple "See you later, I guess."

Jeff mumbled "Bye, Stone" and immediately hugged me as if he had known me for several years, almost flipping over the tray with drinks and spilling them all over ourselves.

"Jeez, I'm sorry," he said with a sort of embarrassed, apologetic smile. "I'm sometimes thinking about getting my master's in clumsiness."

"Oh, you should see me."

"Nonsense," Dave interrupted. " You guys are gonna love her. I mean, Stone's going to like you too when he spends some time with you," he added, turning to me.

"You wanna sit?" Jeff offered, motioning with one hand to the old couch. We got seated and he started talking, seeming guilty and irritated at the same time.

"I'm sorry for before, I really am. Stone's a good guy, but we have some problems between the two of us, and it's hard to figure it out. I don't know what you heard, but it wasn't actually about you.. it was a bit more personal."

"You don't have to explain. It's okay," I smiled, absolutely honest this time.

Jeff fidgeted a little with his fingers, something I had already noticed before. It seemed as if he had played some tiny imaginary guitar and I wondered if he was really unconsciously rehearsing some chords for bass which he obviously played.

"I, uh, I brought something to eat, and some coffee." I said.

"What, really?" Jeff almost yelled as if I had told him I brought Christmas presents. "You've already reached the number 1 in my most favorite person of the day list."

Dave took out the content of the paper bag and nudged me, urging me to shift a little closer to him to make some room, and placed two burgers with fries between us on the couch.

Jeff immediately grabbed one, then I handed him the latte I got for him.

"A latte?" he asked as soon as it opened it, not displeased.

"You seemed like a latte-y sort of guy," I explain simply.

"Oh, totally. Hey, was this second burger for Stone, or..? Can I eat it then as well?" He asked with a slight smile, his mouth full.

We all chuckled. While Jeff was eating, there was not much conversation. Dave hugged me with one arm and placed his chin on my shoulder, rubbing the back of my hand with his finger. I watched Jeff eat and wondered about what I had gotten myself into, recklessly agreeing to be a roommate of someone I had never met, with one of his friends obviously already hating me.

"Are you guys, like, together?" Jeff asked in between bites, interrupting my flow of thoughts.

Me and Dave both shook our heads at the same time, bumping them together painfully. Jeff burst out laughing, and we both soon joined in.

"Are you hurt?" Dave asked still laughing, rubbing his head where mine hit him. I shook my head again, more carefully this time. "Careful with that," he noted.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, turning to him, his hand still gently rested on mine. "There, let me."

I took his hand away from his head, than placed a kiss in there and smiled. Dave looked me in the face, then kissed me on the cheek, grabbed my shoulders and turned my body back to Jeff. He watched us with an amused smile, chewing his food.

" I thought you guys said you aren't a couple."

"We aren't." Dave said and placed his head again on my shoulder, one of his hands dropping down on my hip. I didn't mind, it wasn't uncomfortable, but there was nothing sexual or flirtatious in it either, which was absolutely okay with me.

Jeff finished eating and started collecting his gear, various cables and plugs and whatnot.

Dave leaned in a little bit closer, my face still not turned to his. "You know, when I told you to stop in the Dick's.. Fuck that sounds ridiculous," he chuckled. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you, it wasn't really uncomfortable, it was just.. well, your hand rubbing my thigh was.. uh.. you know what I mean don't you?"

"What?"

"It was uh.. I mean it was nice, but it kind of.. distracting..?"

I finally understood and nodded. "God I'm sorry, that feels embarrassing."

"No it's OK, just.. You know. Bad timing and all," he winked at me, then silently laughed at himself and got up, making me stand up with him since I was partly sitting on him.

I wasn't really sure what to think, but then I simply shrugged in my mind, knowing it won't soon matter anyway. He was leaving, I was staying, and that meant I didn't have to start analyzing any feelings I might or might not have.

Soon after we left, Jeff carrying his bass and all his gear (well, maybe all of it, I had no idea) and my handbag, Dave carrying the black coffee which was originally meant for Stone, making disgusted faces each time he took a sip. I carried just my backpack and one cold coffee.

Jack and the guys were all arranged around the car, some of them sitting on the hood or standing around, Jakc sitting in the driver's seat with his door open. I immediately recognized Stone standing next to him, laughing and fidgeting awkwardly. Both Jeff and Dave seemed to be quite surprised to find him there too, but Jeff simply went over to him, patted his shoulder and handed him some of the leftover fries.

"Hey, Dave, buddy, I was just about to show Stone the cute video of you two lovebirds we filmed today!" one of the guys, the one with the camera, said. It didn't seem like anyone except me and Dave noticed, but then Jeff turned to him and asked: "What video?"

I quickly hushed him with and soon all the guys got in the car, realizing they had already wasted more than enough time in Seattle, certainly more than planned.

"Wait, can I get a copy of that tape? The video thing?" Jeff yelled after them when the car started to back from the parking lot.

"Sure, but can I get your address first?" Dave yelled back from the car.

Jeff started jogging along the road next to the car, dictating his address before the car drove off.

Then it was just the three of us, Stone sipping his coffee I got him, Jeff smiling wildly with his hair in his face despite the bandana. He has quite a handsome face, I thought, watching him adjust his off-shoulder top, and a nice smile too.

[letsperaltiago]

i don’t wanna miss you like the other girls do

#12: I can't stop thinking about you, #22: Sometimes I just can't control myself when around you and #28: I have never felt this way about anyone

or 

Jealous! Amy and brand new relationship-Peraltiago

Also: Do I need to make a statement saying that Amy obviously isn't the kind of person to think she owns anyone, but means it well and in an endearing way? There you go.

Enjoy!

Read here or on AO3 

It had all gone down in a spur of the moment-kind of moment that no one, even less Amy, had seen coming and honestly would’ve preferred to be without. It wasn’t really her place to say or do what she did, nor even as much as react upon it, alas… she did; she was in so deep with Jake Peralta and so she did it anyways.

Said moment had gone down during a weekend spent in Hartford, Connecticut, where the squad had attended a two day-seminar hosted by their brothers and sisters in the HPD.

Since the drive to Hartford was one of two hours, plus the seminar took place Saturday through Sunday, the squad had huddled together in two cars and were spending the entire weekend, Friday through Sunday, north of their respective homes in Brooklyn.

Immediately from the moment they arrived at the the hotel slash conference venue where the seminar was to be held everything seemed to set the scene for a pretty smooth, perhaps even fun, weekend where the squad would get to be entertained by other things that the wondering of why they weren’t at home on a weekend.

No one on the squad had any kind of expectations for the unknown city, except Holt who mentioned The Mark Twain House and Museum as a highly ranked point on his to be done-list, which meant their collective surprise upon exploring the city after checking into their rooms Friday afternoon was indeed positive enough for them to not hate the fact they were spending their weekend away from home doing work-related activities.

The very second the clock obnoxiously signalled 7 AM the following day, because not being home wasn’t an excuse, Amy Santiago was up and out of bed leaving Jake to regret, just for a tiny second, that he shared a room with his brand new paramour. It’d only been two weeks since coming to terms about “screw light and breezy”, and so far everything was smooth sailing although that morning was clearly an example of the two still figuring out this new dynamic of theirs.

“Ugh, can you stop being a decent person and get back in bed,” Jake groaned in pain when Amy without hesitance pulled aside the curtain to let in the bleak east coast-sun. If they’d been away on vacation in Mexico, even just as far as California, then maybe Jake would’ve accepted this. But there sure as hell was nothing less motivating than a sad barely there-sun hiding behind puffy clouds but still shining brightly enough to rip him out of his comfortable sleep. Especially when all there was to “look forward to”, quote Amy, was seminars; learning and powerpoint presentations that would haunt him in his next sleep.

“Stop whining and get up! The seminar starts at 8!” Amy hurried carelessly at him used to his many complaints of this childish nature. She didn’t let it take up too much of her time and had already moved on to grab clean clothes from her duffle bag to put on after her routine shower.

From where he had indeed not moved an inch Jake could hear the shower being turned on, door to the bathroom still open, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was exhausted from staying up just a bit too late watching stupid videos on his phone then he would’ve attempted to sneak into the steaming water with Amy because he could do that now… Insane.

On the other side of the shower curtain Amy had expected the same. There was very good reason why she’d added the little detail of leaving the door open and hoped would lure him out of bed. To her disappointment she quickly noticed her so-called sneaky plan was in vain leaving but one last attempt up her sleeve.  

“Jake, the breakfast buffet closes at 7.30!” she called out momentarily turning off the shower to allow her to pick up on potential sounds which could indicate her victory.

Indeed the last attempt was the right one: seconds later she heard the sound of quick footsteps and the ruffling of what she guessed was clothing items before a messy-haired, baggy-eyed Jake stumbled into the bathroom stark naked and on the edge of out of breath. The way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach, Amy though to herself amused.

“Mind if I join in real quick?” he smiled sheepishly trying his best to hide exhaustion.

All complaints and opposing to her morning ritual went down the drain with shower water the moment Amy turned it back on and smiled through biting down on her bottom lip.

Santiago: 1 - Peralta: 0

—

Perhaps Amy had twisted the truth just a tiny bit to get him out of bed so early. Jake figured this out when they 20 minutes later walked downstairs and saw a sign announcing that the first part of the seminar wasn’t scheduled for 8, like Amy had said, but rather 9 and buffet as well only closed an hour later than Amy’s information had told him. Lucky for her he was so infatuated that he let her off the hook with a playful jab to her sides and a comment about how she probably didn’t even want to date him but was simply a double-agent sent to improve his habits and lifestyle. This in return earned him a very familiar by now laugh, roll of this eyes and smile-combo: a combo he’d never get tired of and already felt like getting an eternal subscription to.

The seminar was okay, he guessed; either that or watching Amy furiously yet impressively neatly take notes with the speed of light beside him was enough to make it feel so. He was convinced of the latter when she afterwards with the brightest smile on her face showed him all the knowledge she’d managed to boil down to a few neatly organised pages in her notebook. It felt dangerous so early on in whatever they would turn out to be, yet also so very natural that in his world nothing was greater than the sight of Amy Santiago smiling at him. A sight he’d quickly grown addicted to already years back although without coming to terms with it until some months prior.

“Are you sticking around for the Q & A?” Amy interrupted his wandering thoughts whilst getting a new page in her notebook ready as a few people started leaving their seats and the conference room.

“Nah,” Jake shook his head honestly knowing that it would be lying to both himself and her if he tried to act like he genuinely cared about sticking around for an additional 30 minutes of re-explaining what he’d already spent 2 hours zoning in and out of. “I think I’ll head to the lounge. I’m feeling snacky.”

“Of course,” Amy smiled shaking her head in an evident manner. “See you at lunch then?”

“Yup,” he got out of his seat before adding a “see you at lunch, nerd,” accompanied by one last teasing smile before joining Rosa on her walk towards the exit. The comment combined with his soft brown eyes and warm smile was enough to have Amy feeling like a puddle of mush in her seat. To know that said brown eyes and warm smile were… hers? It felt weird to say or even just think it since they hadn’t officially declared themselves boyfriend/girlfriend but definitely were something; something not light and breezy; perhaps solid was the appropriate antithesis to use?

No matter what - light, breezy, solid or whatever they could be defined as - when her eyes trained after Jake walking off for just tiny bit longer than intended, Amy definitely noticed how a group of four women, colleagues, she assumed, sitting on the other side of the middle isle between her and them where Jake was walking chatted and giggled as their eyes switched back and forth between each other and Amy’s favorite partner. In spite of the fact that she was en excellent lipreader Amy, to her curiosity’s dismay, couldn’t exactly tell what these women were saying or giggling about however two things were certain: one was that they were in one way or another very interested in Jake, even after he’d left the room, and two was that Amy didn’t like it. An uneasy tightness formed in her stomach telling her so and she for the following 30 minutes of a Q & A she had looked forward to couldn’t focus enough to take any actual notes. All she was left with post Q & A were mindless doodles on an otherwise blank page which was both a waste of paper and but even worse of no good use for her knowledge.

The second the seminar was officially completely over which was everyone’s cue to leave for lunch, Amy did her best, notebook and pencil case held tightly to her chest, in an attempt to get as close to the giggly group of women from before as the room’s population walked out of the room in one big stream. Completely forgetting that she was supposed to meet up with the Jake and the others for lunch she automatically followed the four women to the hotel bar where they settled down - and so of course so did Amy simply opting for a few seats further down in conjunction with ordering herself a soda as to not attract herself any suspicion or attention.

“Oh my gosh, Sydney, you have to figure out who that guy from the seminar was!”

This definitely caught Amy’s attention, both to her pleasing and bitterness: pleasing because she’d been right about her gut-feeling and bitterness because that guy was her guy. Not whoever this Sydney was.

“Yeah, he was pretty cute right?” Who Amy guessed was Sydney, a tall, beautiful blonde clad in a nice pantsuit, Amy had to admit, answered just as enthusiastically.

“Totally! And since he’s here, probably, also a cop,” the same friend who had started the conversation chimed in and Amy wished to God she’d just shut up rather than stuff her friend’s head with bad ideas like hitting on Amy’s own guy.

“I smell work place-romance, ladies,” a third friend giggled riling the other’s up along with her. To them it was all a joke, fun, some kind of competition of cat and mouse but Amy, at her respective end of the bar, was feeling herself starting to boil, more than she’d like to admit, at the thought of someone else taking away from her what she’d just struggled for so long to obtain. It was her cute cop-guy from the seminar; her work-place romance; her… whatever! And also what kind of dumb name was Sydney even? Jake and Sydney? So dumb.  

“I mean we are here for another entire day so I’ll have to make sure to run into him at some point. Tonight…” the tone of Sydney’s voice took on a sultry undertone that had Amy shuffling uncomfortably in her seat. “… wouldn’t be a bad time to run into him.” The smug smile on the blonde’s face had Amy feeling like punching it right off of her.

As if on cue, like timing couldn’t have been any worse, friend number four made her presence be known and squealed with excitement while pointing which of course immediately earned herself the three other’s full attention. “Girls! There he comes! Right there!”

Within seconds all four girls heads snapped to the side with wide hungry eyes reminding Amy of what a flock of vultures looked like prior to ripping apart an animal cadaver in a documentary she’d watched a few days ago.

Vulture-like or not, Amy’s head was included in this collective redirecting of focus and followed the direction in which the friend had pointed to.

And there he was indeed: Jake Peralta, clad in his navy blue long-sleeved NYPD-shirt and freshly cut hair with the tiniest hint at a beginning forehead curl, was walking into the lounge that very moment seemingly looking around for someone and also completely unaware of the people watching him as his entrance seems to unfold in slow-motion. Amy almost couldn’t blame the girls for drooling because the cocky detective looked really good walking into the room completely oblivious to the attention he’d brought upon himself.

“Damn… He looks even cuter than what I remembered. I have to give it a try, don’t I?” Sydney questioned, obviously rhetorically already knowing what she wanted as she almost drooled like an agitated Doberman.  

“I mean if you won’t, Sydney, then I will!” the friend who’d noticed Jake enter the room playfully challenged, and even though it was all fun and games to them, Amy felt like her seat was on fire making it almost impossible to stay passive and seated for much longer.

“Oh, hell no. Stay away from him. This one’s mine, Jasmin!”

There was no telling if the line had already been crossed multiple inappropriate remarks ago and she’d managed by the grace of God to stay seated or if this last comment was the one to exceed what Amy considered her very flexible limits. Either way, no matter what, the first one option or the other, this time Amy failed to bite her tongue. She threw a comment out into the open without thoroughly considering its consequences out in the open fora first thus letting the group, especially Sydney, know what was weighing on her mind.

“You've got a lot of nerve to call a complete stranger ‘yours’,” the borderline growl of a tone in which the words came out in had Amy feeling like another person: not one she specially liked. This person, or perhaps even primitive beast was a better way of describing this persona, rooted deep down in her apparently found it very necessary to protect what she already within two weeks had come to mark as her territory. Never before had she felt so green-eyed, so absolutely reckless. This being said her instincts were more vigilant than ever before and it virtually felt out of her hands.

In the meantime, while Amy was looking at her decision in retrospect yet not at all since she wasn’t doing anything to prevent any further complications, the women had turned in their seats to collectively shoot quizzical, annoyed looks resembling daggers with their eyes at Amy.

“Excuse me?” The blue-eyed blonde challenged Amy to take her statement back which roughly said only goaded her raven-haired opponent further down the warpath.

“I said: You've got a lot of nerve to call a complete stranger ‘yours’.”

Feeling herself so ice-cold, so sure about something partially dumb and actually really petty would normally have Amy back down right away but something deep inside of her, like a raging fire, had her stand her ground. Apparently that’s what Jake Peralta could bring out in certain people, both Amy and Sydney included, because the blonde was not backing down just, rather instead coolly took another shot at Amy in the hopes to have her back off.

“Why shouldn't I? It’s not like he’s everyone, right? I’m for sure not letting any of these girls run off with him,” she pointed to the her friends behind her, the switch from threatening Amy to mindlessly joking and giggling with her little girl-squad having Amy metaphorically slack-jawed. Luckily not physically: there was no way she was showing this bimbo any sign of weakness.

“Okay, well…” Amy had had it for good and all consideration of rationality was out the window. Crowded police seminar or not there was no way in hell this light haired pest with her greedy crystal blue eyes and three flippant followers were getting the last word.“…let me explain to you why how you shouldn't assume and make people your property. Especially when you don’t even know them.”

Yes, she was being a hypocrite saying this but she was actually Jake’s special someone and not just some stranger: she did have a say in this.

For a brief second Sydney seemed shocked and like she actually considered Amy’s bold statement, but it didn’t last and before long blondie was back in the game apparently not satisfied with the way things could be left off. They way things should be left off, if you asked Amy.

“Oh, so you’re his “girlfriend” or what?,” the tone of Sydney’s voice clearly implied she didn’t believe anything Amy said.

All the, not doubt per se since she knew she wanted to be with Jake and he with her, but perhaps the insecurities about what stage they were currently at melted and slipped away as water off a duck’s back. It didn’t matter what exactly they were when one thing, the most important fact, was sure: they liked each other and they were going… steady. They were each other’s, politically correct to say or not.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am,” Amy’s voice and eyes drilled into Sydney’s with a kind of confidence she’d never felt before, perhaps something Jake had brought into her life along with himself.

In return it earned her a mocking scoff.

“Easy for you to say. He might as well be a random guy you’ve spotted in the crowd,” one of Sydney’s friends stepped in to help her friend in what Amy knew was a lost cause on their part.

“He could be a stranger,” Amy paused very briefly biting her lip as to refocus, hopefully managing to not say anything that could potentially make the pointless, stupid conversation even worse. This but also she still did want to make very clear that the random, cute cop walking into the lounge (who even knew where exactly he was at this point?) was hers.

“But he’s not: he’s my boyfriend.”

It was as Amy allowed herself a small halt to provide her lungs with fresh air, just in case Sydney felt like dragging out the discussion, when cute cop-guy very suddenly made his exact position  known. He was walking straight up to the bar and them displaying smiley lips and eyes plastered on Amy. All the women’s eyes - Amy, Sydney and friends - immediately forgot about their opponent to focus on newly reappeared target who obviously had no clue about the fact that he was walking into the belly of the beast when he made it to his destination next to Amy.

“Hey, Ames.”

He nonchalantly stretched out his right arm to place a hand on the bar behind her crating a point of support for him to lean his weight onto.

“You catching up with some old friends?”

Oh, sweet naive Jake, Amy thought but also lowkey melted as he very credulously sent Sydney and her friend’s a warm, welcoming smile wanting to make a good impression on who he believed were part of Amy’s social circle.

“Eh,” Amy smiled culpably knowing telling Jake the truth about the situation would be the epitome of an embarrassment so early on in this new relationship of theirs. “I was just making small-talk, I guess. You know… meeting new people - yay.”

She couldn’t have sounded any less awkward and enthusiastic, even if she tried. Jake, on his part, was either really openminded or had figured out there was a good reason as to why she acted like she did and didn’t want to dig deeper into it, settling for an understanding nod.

“Well, anyhow… I don’t mean to interrupt anything but you never showed up for lunch and so I just popped in to try and find you.”

Even head turned to look at Jake who was slightly behind her meaning she could only see Sydney out of the corner of her eye, Amy could tell her smug, confident look from before was faltering with every exchange of words between Jake and Amy though they were far from flirty or telling about their relationship in any way. And, yes, she could’ve left it at that, as undramatic at it had all managed to turn out but Amy, well aware of how petty it was, she knew, couldn’t help but want to conclusively knock in the nail of victory.  

“Aw,” Amy spun a quarter of a round on her barstool to face Jake behind her before affectionally placing a hand on his chest - both for the sake of the show but also because, wow, she could actually do that as she pleased now. Something she was still getting used to.

“That’s very sweet of you, babe,” the word in focus was always said in an affectionate tone but this specific context definitely had it over-enhanced and laced with extra sweetness to make her message very clear.

Then breaking her own no making out at work-rule, the only rule to have survived “screw light and breezy”, she couldn’t help herself and gave into the enraged possessiveness inside of her. She leaned in to place a soft, just a bit longer than a peck, kiss to Jake who automatically lightly bent his neck to eliminate the remaining space between their current height difference. The kiss was good, they always were with him, but it definitely had to send a signal that hopefully Sydney would pick up on: do not touch.

Amy, not wanting to break her own rule too much and give in to straight up inappropriate PDA, then pulled back to throw the women-squad a smirk over her shoulder as her hand never left the safety of Jake’s blue shirt.

“Anyways… I think we’re done here? Right, girls?”

To her immense pleasure Amy was met by a mixture of bitterness and surprise which had to mean she’d proven her point. Finally. Jake Peralta, officially boyfriend or not, was not to be considered anyone but hers - apart from being very much his own person as well.

In the meantime, slightly shocked but also far from displeased by Amy’s very out of blue-kiss, Jake stood passive by waiting for his partner’s upcoming directions. He didn’t have to wait for long because whoever these other women were, Amy was done with them and hopped off of her stool promptly grabbing his hand to walk away with. It took him a few feet of walking in silence before Jake could fully assemble and give meaning to everything that had just happened. He turned to question a still smug, also a bit guilty-looking, Amy.

“Okay, so are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

They kept walking out of the lounge and down one of the many halls of the hotel.

“Nothing.”

Jake was perhaps naive at times as he saw a lot of good in everything, which Amy loved, but he knew a guilty lip bite when he saw it and it was currently on full display on the raven haired beauty.  

“Hey,” he pulled her aside into one of the many small wall pockets leading to individual hotel rooms as he wished to seclude them in hopes of it easing her into telling him the truth. “What’s up with you?” he smiled knowingly taking some intensity out of the moment. It’s not like he was angry or anything, curious being a better word for it.

“Nothing,” she smiled sheepishly trying to hurry out of the secluded area but quickly realising she’d failed once she felt his hand wrap around her upper arm to gently pull her back in. Her back gently fell back against the wall before him forcing her to face him.  

He lightly tilted his head to the side much like a puppy would when feeling peculiar which was hard to resist when his eyes, soft and brown, had so much resemblance with a sweet puppy’s as well. She could tell he was teasing her, aware of the fact that he knew something she didn’t and it drew her insane in both the worst and best way - Jake Peralta summed up for you.

“Now I don’t believe that… girlfriend.”

In contrast to the playfulness controlling her body seconds ago Amy Santiago suddenly felt much more put on the spot, it clearly showing by the way her blood all at once seemed to fire up her cheeks. He’d overheard her talking to Sydney and the others; he’d heard her declare herself as his girlfriend when they hadn’t even agreed on calling each other that yet. The nervousness tricked her into making a loud swallow; yet another tell.

“Oh… y-you heard that?” She stuttered.

Jake nodded firmly almost encapsulating her against the wall when he took a step forwards, but made sure to leave just enough space for her to not feel straight up trapped against her will. A small smug smile on display. Why was he enjoying this? Didn’t he see that he was torturing her?

“I’m sorry - I really didn’t mean to. I know we’ve just barely begun seeing each other as more than friends, it’s just these girls were saying things about you and sometimes I just can't control myself when around you and then it just kind of-“

He cut off her rambling by pressing his lips to hers, much needed, gently pressing her up against the wall although. Only because they were hidden from the majority of the hotel’s population, Amy allowed and excused this - or so she told herself. The feeling of his welcoming lips made her forget the mess for a few seconds, just giving into how good of a kisser Jake Peralta was, and even for a few seconds after their lips parted again she was speechless and dumbfounded by how she’d gotten herself a guy this great.

“Stop apologising,” he chuckled quickly using his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth which inevitably made him look that much hotter.

“I know we didn’t exactly “agree on it” and that it’s still all very new, like you said, but, Ames…” his eyes mellowed after looking just a tad too cocky and alluring before, during and right after the kiss. This was definitely a different shade of Jake looking into her eyes and talking: a very soft one. “… I don’t need a certain trial period or approval from anyone to know that I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend.”

Upon hearing these words coming from the one and only Jake Peralta with recipient being herself, Amy Santiago she felt her heart shoot through the roof, take a trip around the moon and fly straight back into her chest where it had her feeling like crying, smiling, screaming and laughing all at once: a very maniac-like but also wonderful feeling. The most wonderful as far as she could recall.

“And I’m not going to force you to tell me exactly what happened, but just based on the way your fists were basically clenched when I walked up to you, am I wrong to assume that they were, let’s say, treading on your territory…”

If she’d been blushing before then now her face was definitely on fire and looking down at her feet apparently didn’t help cover it at all. The silence was enough of an answer, one which he chuckled in reaction to.

“It’s okay, Ames. At least I came around before you could Jimmy Brogan them.”

At this sympathetic joke reminding her of a time that seemed to be so long ago she had to look back up. She couldn’t hold back a chuckle and it warmed her heart to share it with him just like when he shared his with her. All the previous insecurities: had she gone too far? Let her tongue run away with her? Given too much of herself too fast to something as brand new as her relationship with Jake? It had all been answered by a few simple words, caring eyes and a kiss that told her everything she needed to know.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m this crazy-jealous, possessive type. I’m normally not like this, I promise. I guess I have never felt this way about anyone before and maybe that’s why I’m acting up. Amy I crazy?” a tingling feeling of vulnerability made an encore.

“No, you’re not because I’m right here freaking out, in the best kind of way, because of what you just said. This is the first time I feel like this too, like I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s scary and great all at once.” Jake was quick to wash away said vulnerability she was feeling and replaced it with a prickling affection and hope.

“So… no more feeling insecure about us?” he offered some kind of peace-offering, partly to her but mostly to their shared insecurities, trying to not come off as too gluttonous as he slid his hands onto her waist wanting to soak in a new feeling of belonging. A feeling he’d found in her.

“Deal,” Amy accepted the offering with a sheepish smile as her insides flipped upside down witch excitement. All she wanted was to be with this guy, fully and greatly, and this confrontation and mutual agreement would allow her to not give a damn about future external factors.  

“Noice. Smart,” escaped him in optimistic relief but before she could roll her eyes at it he leaned in to softly kiss her again. Being held by him, hands gently tracing the front pockets of her pants while his lips took her to another world, was something she could never deny him or herself - screw the rules. Lips collided over and over again, one tug bringing on the next until they lost sense of anything and were full on making out like a pair of horny high schoolers in-between classes. This is what they brought out in each other: happiness, fire, want and so many more things they’d both spent the last two weeks wondering how they’d lived without before.

Unfortunately their movie-like moment had to be cut somewhat short as people coming back from lunch started flooding the hall passing by their little intimate pocket in the wall. Amy liked Jake but she also liked staying professional and this Jake respected. They jumped back, creating an exaggerated amount of space between them before sending passing strangers innocent smiles as if they hadn’t just spent the last few minutes declaring feelings and making out at an interstate police seminar.

“So, Detective Santiago…” his voice took on a brand new tone of gravity - a tone she also recognised as acting. “Shall we head over for lunch?”

“I’m sorry to come bearing such bad news, Detective Peralta, but people are flooding the hall as per consequence of the fact that lunch is over,” Amy played along taking on a serious tone and posture.

“Aw, man… Seriously?” he whined childishly, his recent serious persona from seconds before immediately  forgotten.

“Sorry… boyfriend,” she smiled sheepishly in an attempt to cheer him up which she had to praise herself, as it obviously worked seeing his face instantly lit up.

“Whatever… It was worth losing lunch over, girlfriend.”

[fangirltothefullest]

O absolutely adore you're art, and I've been wanting to learn how to draw for a long time now. And I know the best advice is to "practice practice practice" but I don't really know what to practice, if that makes sense. I don't know where to start. I know you're supposed to start with a skeleton sketch but I don't know how to do that? If this makes sense? So I guess I'm just wondering how you figured all of it out

Thank you for asking! Here’s how my process went! 

When I was little I spent a good long time copying Yugioh cards! It actually helped me figure out shading really well because I had to transfer the colours I was seeing into black and white scale (which was excellent practice at understanding tone). It was also really good proportion practice! 

The thing about learning to draw is that you should learn the basic tools first and then work freely. 

What I mean by that is basically, you gotta start with the absolute basics and work from there! 

Learn the physical tools. Seriously, it’s boring but take your drawing tool/s and mess around with them. Become familiar with how they feel, what you like about it, what doesn’t work and what does? Do you like how thick a #2 pencil can be, gliding over printer paper? what about watercolour paper? It smears a whole lot if you brush your hand against it. You can use that for shading, but it can also smear your work if you aren’t careful. Some pends bleed if they haven’t dried yet. How are you holding your drawing utensil? Too tight and your hand is going to hurt. Do you make quick wrist movements when you write? You have to train yourself out of that if you draw. And what about paints? Do you like paints? What about markers? Digital is very freeing as you can erase and add colours and effects that pencils can’t! But each drawing program is very different! What tool feels good to you? I had a friend who drew only in MSPaint with a mouse! 

Learn how lines work and practice different ones! Again, it sounds boring, but familiarizing yourself with how you’re actually making lines and dots and curves will help you understand yourself and where you are at.

Practice shapes. This one is SO important because it sounds so simple “Oh everyone knows a circle!” Three dimensional objects are SO hard to draw though! And it’s how you use shapes in relation to each other that make a drawing work. A slice of toast can be made from a circle, or a square if you know how to play with it. 

Learn how proportions work. This sounds SO boring but it’s vital to anything you draw. A bone structure is proportionate to a person. People with broader shoulders look different than a person with tiny bones. Animals like seals with all that fat are proportionately more round and soft than things like cheetahs where muscle tone really affects the appearance. Understanding proportion is key and you can practice this by drawing real life things or do what I did and draw from cards or anything you can see that makes you have to take the mass and proportions of an object in relation to another object into account. Knowing how to do this helps later with shading and understanding the position of objects in the space around them.

Learn how hidden shapes affect the things on top of them! This one is key to understanding how the human bone structure works and why “starting with the skeleton” can be so hard! If you don’t understand how the bones under a body affect the mass over the bones, your proportions will kind of get all wonky. A good way to practice this is to look at folds of cloth and trying to draw the shape hidden under the fabric. 

Practice EVERY DAY. You don;t have to do these exercises every day, but you can just doodle and play with your drawings every single day. Everyone says this but it’s no joke. Doing a little bit of drawing every single day will train your muscle memory on how to use the tools to get them to do what you want and will help refine your skills. 

Also I recommend if you are a passenger to draw in the car or on a train or plane! I drew in the car all the time, little things every single day. I drew from memory, I printed pictures of the characters I liked and tried to draw them, and then over time I started slowly working on different parts. 

Now onto the “SKELETON”. Generally when they say “skeleton” of a drawing they mean this: 

Where you have an idea of what you want- generally a pose, and you have enough basic knowledge on the major joints of the body (shoulders, hips, knees etc.) to understand how the limbs work in tandem with the other parts of the body enough to “make a frame”. The circles tell you where the joints are so if you want to change like a hand gesture you have a general idea of the proportions and you could alter it if needed. 

[starkerisendgame]

this is my cheesy cliché-romantic prompt, please write it if you like this kind of stories, lol: Peter has had a crush on Tony since forever. He has confessed his love to Tony three times, and Peter has been rejected each time. The first one was when he was 10, the second one at 15, and the last one at 20. After so long, Peter decides to give up. He starts dating other people, trying to find love, then one day Tony reappears again into his life.

I’m so sorry this took so long! But I really hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoy it. This is in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I initially planned it. No smut in part one, but 90% of what Anon asked for happens in this chapter.

Prompts are always open

[P. 2 | P. 3]

Peter meets the love of his life aged ten, lounging in the grass of a local park and devouring the Chemistry book that Aunt May got him for Christmas. A pair of glossy combat boots stop right besides his pink lemonade, a figure casting a dark shadow over his book.

Peter looked up slowly, scowling at the interruption. How was he supposed to study hard and become a world famous scientist if people kept interrupting him? The boots give way to skinny black jeans that clung to legs longer than Peter could ever hope for his to grow. The legs faded into a black t-shirt sporting a cat playing the drums, and then to the prettiest face Peter had ever seen.

“Page fifty-eight is wrong, y’know,” the boy commented casually, hands tucked into his jean pockets. Peter’s scowl deepened, and he stared for a moment longer before furiously flicking through the pages. Page 58 turned out to be on metals and their chemical properties. Peter scanned it, before looking up again.

“It’s a professional science book. It can’t be wrong. And even if it was, how would you know?” he asked, reaching for his lemonade and sipping. The boy actually laughed, soft and amused before crouching down, elbows braced on his thighs. One long finger tapped a single paragraph on the page.

“The book claims Tungsten to be the strongest natural metal, and Chromium to be the hardest. Both of those are wrong. The world’s strongest and hardest metal is one in the same: Vibranium.”

Peter frowned a little, reading the paragraph quickly as the boy spoke. Vibranium? That sounded made up. And he’d never heard of it before.

“You’re just making that up,” he pouted, pushing away the boy’s hand.  He chuckled again, low and soft and it made Peter’s tummy feel funny. All flippy, like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Am not,” the boy shot back, teasing and mocking. Peter pouted harder, drawing his book closer. “Vibranium was discovered in the 1800′s, and is pretty much a secret outside of a select few Government organisations and my family; who have a big clump of it sitting in a secure storage facility out in Antarctica,” the boy remarked. It was Peter’s turn to laugh, now.

“You’re a big, fat liar,” he dismissed, then frowned. “Wait. I’m not supposed to be talking to strangers. Go away before Aunt May confiscates my Game Boy again,” he huffed, looking back down at his book. He missed the soft smile the boy gave in response, and missed the scent of aftershave as the boy got up and walked away.

One week later, Peter was back at the park, sprawled out on the grass with several packs of snacks and his chemistry book. He’d brought a notebook this time, jotting down notes and little doodles to help him remember things. There was a science expo next month, and he was determined to be super smart and science to impress the important scientists there.

Something thunked into the grass before him and rolled, all the way through the grass until it bumped into the edge of his chemistry book. Peter eyed it warily. It was a metal ball, about the size of a ping-pong ball. Bright silver and it looked really shiny, like it had been polished. Peter looked up further, and saw the boy from last week strolling towards him.

He walked all the way up and sat down opposite Peter, long legs crossing in the grass. Peter watched him the entire time, hand still paused mid-sentence. The boy was wearing dark grey jeans today, and a white shirt with an AC/DC logo across the chest. His head tipped, and he watched Peter with a soft, curious expression.

“Half a pound of Vibranium. Super-forged and polished into a perfect sphere, just for you,” the boy remarked, pulling a lollipop out of one pocket and peeling off the wrapped. Peter looked down and after a moment he put down his pen, reaching for it. It felt light, for its weight, and the metal was cold, perfectly smooth to the touch.

“This is probably just steel or something,” he pointed out, and the boy shrugged, sucking the lolly with a wet sound.

“You can do whatever you want to that, and it won’t break, scratch or dent. The only thing that can damage Vibranium is more Vibranium,” the boy tossed back, taking the sphere from Peter’s hand and tossing it up and down like a regular ball. “You could take a chainsaw to this thing and all you’d get is sparks.”

He tossed the ball back to Peter and they spent the next two hours going through his chemistry book together. The boy turned out to be called Tony, and he was super smart. He was turning twenty next month. Peter worried a bit about talking to someone that much older, but Tony was sweet and smart and helped him to take notes.

Tony’s phone went off a little while later, and he checked it before pulling a face and looking across at Peter. 

“Well, I gotta go. But try to scratch that thing. Let me know if you succeed,” he grinned, ruffling Peter’s hair and standing. He was already walking away by the time Peter realised he had no way of letting Tony know either way and he watched helplessly as Tony slipped into a sleek, black car on the sidewalk.

That night Peter attacked the ball with several kitchen knives. He threw it down the stairs. He tried to chew it. He tried everything he could within the house to damage it, but nothing worked. 

Eventually he gave up, sitting on his bed and staring in wonder at the still perfectly smooth ball before he snuck an egg cup from the kitchen and put it in pride of place on the middle of his shelf.

He went back to the park on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday of the following week, but Tony didn’t show up.

He was already there the following Tuesday however, sprawled on his back on the grass with his eyes closed and his face tilted up towards the sun. Peter approached slowly, two bottles of cola tucked under his arm, chemistry book tucked under the other. He was almost above Tony when the boy smiled, slow and sweet.

“Sorry I haven’t been around much, Pete,” he murmured. His voice was thick, raspy. It was then that Peter noticed the dark purple bruises under his eyes, and the large, blotchy red patch on one side of his jaw. Peter shuffled nervously in the grass, dropping his head.

“Um… If you’re sick, we don’t gotta study today,” he mumbled in response, shrinking when Tony cracked open one eye to study him. After a moment though, he was smiling again, pushing himself up onto his elbows to pat the grass besides him.

“I’m okay. We can still learn about atoms,” Tony comforted softly, and that’s what they did. For over an hour, until Tony looked up, face falling as a tall, kind of fat man in a suit approached then. He looked like he should be dressed for a funeral.

“Mr. Stark, its time we should be going,” the man greeted quietly. Peter’s pen slipped across the page when he twisted in shock, staring accusingly across at Tony with wide eyes. His best friend wasn’t just Tony, but Tony Stark. Son of Howard Stark, one of the world’s leading inventors and scientists.

Tony glanced across at him with a small, half amused and half sad smile, pushing to his feet. 

“I’ll be back on Thursday, kiddo,” Tony hummed, dusting off his pants and following after the man, who gave Peter a polite nod in goodbye. As they walked, the man held out a tie and a jacket towards Tony, and it occurred to Peter for the first time that Tony had been wearing a smart shirt for once.

The next morning, as Peter sat at the table eating his cereal, the news turned to Tony Stark, dressed in a suit with a pair of deep red sunshades on. What remained of the Stark family announced that Howard and Maria Stark were dead - Victims of a terrible car crash due to bad weather. They had been buried late yesterday afternoon, a quiet and private affair.

Peter’s heart sank. Tony had must’ve gone straight to the funeral with that man. He fretted about it all day, nervously chewing at his pen and bouncing his leg the entire time. He wanted to go to the park, wanted desperately to see Tony, but Tony had said Thursday. 

The day couldn’t come quick enough, and Peter barely breathed as he stuffed his dinner into his mouth, ignoring May’s alarmed looks and almost headbutting her with how quickly he gave her a goodbye kiss on the cheek, jacket half-on as he fled through the door.

Tony was waiting for him again, sat cross-legged in their spot. He was wearing the same shades he had been on the news the other morning and wore a large, soft black hoodie. He looked up when Peter came scurrying across the grass, mouth quirking into a friendly smile. 

Peter skid through the greenery, sliding onto his knees and crashing into Tony with almost enough force to knock him over as he wrapped his arms tight around him.

Tony stiffened under his touch, arms hanging hesitantly in the air, but Peter squeezed him a little tighter, tucking his head down and after a moment Tony relaxed, arms coming loosely around Peter’s waist.

They met up every week after that, always in the same spot near the holly bush. They got through Peter’s book pretty quickly and Tony brought more, an endless supply of books on anything Peter could think of. 

He also brought Peter stuff, sometimes. A tiny, tiny 1ml science beaker from the lab at Stark Tower. A weird type of berry from Africa, where Tony went for the weekend while Peter was home with the flu.

Two weeks before his eleventh birthday, Peter looked up from his book on stars, squinting across at Tony, who was doodling a dog wearing sunglasses on his notebook. 

“I love you.” he announced after a moment, confident. He’d asked Aunt May what it meant to love someone, and if it was okay to tell them. She’s told it was when even the thought of someone made you happy. When you wanted them to be in your life for a long time and when you felt comfortable around them.

Tony paused, and then laughed, sharp and short. “No, kid. You love pancakes and your Aunt and sleeping in on a Saturday. You don’t love me.”

Peter frowned and went to argue but then Tony was quizzing him on what gasses stars were made up of, and it was dropped.

Peter lay awake that night, tossing and turning as he thought about it. He was pretty sure he loved Tony. He always looked forwards to seeing him. Tony made him happy and made him smile all the time. He knew Tony’s favourite colour and how he liked his toast and he always felt like he could tell Tony anything. That was love… Right?

Aged fifteen, Peter buried his face in Gwen’s shoulder and whined, shoulders slumping. His phone lay screen-up on the table, depicting an image of Tony stepping out of a fancy restaurant, arm wrapped tight around a pretty blonde girl. It was his second girlfriend of the year, a nice but kind of snooty girl named Alita.

“You’re jailbait anyway, Pete. Find someone your own age,” Gwen advised, voice cool but not unsympathetic as she turned the page to her book. She was right; Peter had known Tony was too old for him the moment he realised that Tony’s smile made his tummy flip in a funny way. The moment Aunt may blew up when she found out just who Peter was always running off to study in the park with.

(Tony had promptly arranged for them both to have dinner at the Tower, and had immediately wooed Aunt May. She had come around to them being study buddies by the end of the night; how could she not? Tony was sweet, charming, quirky. It hadn’t taken Peter a year to fall in love with him, after all.)

“She’s just… I mean she’s obviously… She isn’t…” Peter couldn’t think of anything to say. Alita was actually pretty nice, if you got past her picky, high standards for living. She had been super friendly when Tony had brought her along on one of their study meets, and had been pretty interested in their current topic - physics.

“Not you,” Gwen finished for him, pushing his head up so she could give him one of her Mom looks. Peter scowled and looked away, stabbing his breaded chicken with a little more force than required. Alita and Tony had been dating for three months now, and each morning the heavy, cold feeling in Peter’s stomach grew. He thought back to being ten, to telling Tony he loved him in the middle of the park, to the way Tony laughed, like it was a big, bad joke.

They didn’t go to the park often, these days. Tony was now the big boss at his parents’ company and spent most of his days learning how to run it and making lots of big changes. They still saw each other each week, but school and a big company didn’t leave a lot of time for laying around in the grass.

“Have de-ageing or ageing machines been invented yet?” he questioned aloud, and shrieked when Gwen slapped him with her book. That was a no, then.

Tony was waiting for him at the school gates, leaning against the bonnet of a fancy car that Peter had forgotten the brand name of. He had rich, glossy blue shades on today and was wearing a loose, matching blue silk shirt. Several other kids were hanging around, phones out and obviously trying to engage.

Peter felt rather powerful striding across the grass and towards Tony. Tony straightened when he approached, uncrossing his legs and opening the car door with a flourish for Peter. 

“Your humble ride home, Little Prince,” Tony greeted, voice thick and soft as he mock bowed. Peter snorted, sliding onto the rich, buttery leather and tossing his beg into the footwell.

“You’re so embarrassing,” he grinned, but he didn’t mean it. Not at all. His heart actually felt like it was going to burst. A few months ago for his fifteenth birthday Tony had given him an official internship at Stark Tower, as his personal assistant.

It basically meant Peter could come around whenever Tony was there, and usually ended in them making up crazy things and ordering takeout.

It also meant Tony picking him up from school like this. Peter had lost count of how many times he’d daydreamed of just running over to Tony, jumping into his arms and kissing him. Tony was starting to grow a little facial hair now, a light dusting of stubble that made Peter feel all funny whenever he thought about it.

“So, how was school, Petercakes? That kid still being an ass? What is it…Flake?” Peter snickered, slouching back into the seat and pressing the button for his window as Tony started the car, peeling carelessly out of the parking lot.

“Flash,” he corrected, with a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s okay. I mean, he believes me about the internship now you’ve started picking me up, but. I don’t think anything would shut him up completely.” When Peter glanced across Tony tipped his head, that challenge accepted smirk on his face, and Peter pointed at him.

“Tony, no.”

“Tony, yes,” he shot back gleefully, before reaching across to nudge Peter gently. “Relax, I’ll probably just arrange a field trip to SI or something. Sing your praises in front of everyone. Hey - bet I could get photos of you framed on my walls by the end of the night.”

Peter groaned, sinking lower into his seat.

Today’s Important Science encompassed going to the movies to see the new Fast and Furious film, before eating their weight in ice cream to determine if chocolate chip mint was better than toffee crunch delight. Tony got them two small cones to go, and they parked up at the beach front, watching the lights twinkle off the dark water.

“How was your date with Alita yesterday?” Peter asked in the comfortable silence that fell, cringing immediately afterwards. Great. A perfect, private evening together and he was bringing up his girlfriend. Besides him, Tony cringed in tandem.

“We, uh… Actually broke up. That’s why we went out to dinner. As a break up… Thing,” Tony mumbled in response, turning away and looking out of the window as he crunched the last of his cone. Peter almost dropped his in surprise, blinking across at Tony. But… They had looked so cosy leaving the restaurant.

“She was just… We weren’t right for each other, I guess. Y’know how it is,” Tony shrugged after a brief pause, pulling a wet-wipe from the glove compartment and cleaning off his fingers. Fidgeting, mostly. Peter could relate. He suddenly felt itchy within his skin, too warm. Tony was single again. He bit at his lip, trying to think of what to say.

“Oh. Well… I still love you,” he breathed out, stiffening when he realised what he’d said. Across from him Tony chuckled, reaching out to fluff up his hair and casting a fond look over the rim of his glasses.

“I’m glad me being a lonely old man doesn’t change the way you think of me,” Tony responded, voice light and teasing. Peter shifted his gaze away, out to the illuminated waters. 

He didn’t know if Tony thinking he was joking was worse than Tony realising Peter had meant it. He stuffed the last of his cone into his mouth to avoid saying anything else, and another few moments passed before Tony begun to drive him home.

Peter leaned across the centre console when Tony pulled up, dragging the older man in for their customary hug. Tony was broader than he used to be, shoulders filling out, biceps bigger and rounder. His tummy was different, too. Thick muscle and lean abs in place of where he used to be slim like Peter was now.

His hair was soft, fluffy. A little longer than Tony usually kept it, and his aftershave was musky and heavenly when Peter nuzzled into the crook of his neck, squeezing tightly. 

“I meant it,” he breathed against the warm skin there, closing his eyes tight. “I do love you. I know I do. And you can laugh like you did last time, but that doesn’t change it.”

Tony briefly stiffened against him, before he relaxed, petting gently at Peter’s hair. “You don’t know love, Peter. You’re fifteen. You’ve still got years left to learn and grow and experience things. To learn love and how it feels. To find someone. Now go on, before May shouts at us again.”

Tony let him go, pushing his shades higher to his eyes again, and Peter’s heart broke as he scooped up his bag, fleeing for the safety of his bedroom. He cried that night, tucked up against his pillow, duvet pulled up to his cheeks. 

He knew what love meant. He had since he was ten, looking into Tony’s honey-coloured eyes and wishing he could look at them forever.

He knew he loved Tony. Knew belatedly that he always would. But this was the second confession of his love, and the second rejection of his feelings.

He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, eyes red and cheeks ruddy. He stayed in bed for most of the day, avoiding his phone and citing illness when Aunt May lingered in the doorway, brows pulled in concern.

Tony picked him up on the Sunday. Neither of them raised what had happened, and neither of them acted differently to before. Peter supposed it was as much as he could hope for.

His twentieth birthday rolled around sooner than he could have expected, frantically finishing his entry exams for MIT and dealing with moving out of Aunt May’s apartment.

His faux internship in his teenage years had developed into an actual job at Tony’s marketing and research department. Tony was thirty these days, a heart-stopper and a bonafide billionaire thanks to his savvy, smart business choices.

Where Peter had remained a baby-faced, slim figure, Tony was tall and broad. He worked out daily and it showed in the expanse of his shoulders, the ripple of his biceps when he wore tank tops in the experimental labs. SI was branching into medical aid these days. Tony had grown his facial hair into artful stubble, thick and accentuating the sharp line of his jaw.

He was jaw-droppingly attractive, and Peter’s harboured love had only grown as he watched Tony go from a lost and uncertain young man into a grown, confident man. 

Other people had seen the change too, and Peter had lost count of Tony’s partners at this point. One-night stands and brief stints at relationships. Time together cut short or cut completely because Tony was whisking away his latest slice to some Malibu getaway.

Peter tried not to be bitter, even when Tony begun a two year relationship with Peter’s manager, Ms. Pepper Potts. He tried to be supportive. Tried to be understanding whenever Tony cancelled their plans. Tried not to let his sadness show at the dark hickeys he often found littering Tony’s throat. His love never waned, not even slightly.

He rejected any advances from anyone else, knowing that he would be unable to stop himself thinking about Tony. Imagining it was Tony taking him to the movies or Tony kissing down his chest. Gwen watched disapprovingly each time he batted away an attempt at flirting, but remained the supportive (if blunt) friend.

He was laying on his bed, frowning at his latest set of study papers when the door flung open and Tony strode in, pausing only briefly to toe off his dress shoes and to flick the door shut behind him. Peter jumped at the sounds, craning across to try and see who was invading. He really didn’t have the energy to fend off a robber at this point in time.

“I’m hosting a party at the Tower, for your birthday,” Tony had announced, kicking Peter aside and taking his warm spot on the large queen that Peter had invested in. They still tried to make time for each other these days, but this was the first time Peter had seen Tony outside of work in over a week.

“Are you?” he asked lazily, frowning down at the now disorganised mess of paper. Tony dipped his glasses down and cast Peter with one of those flat do you dare doubt me looks that Peter had learned early to not to second-guess.

And that was how Peter ended up on the balcony of the Tower’s penthouse, gazing out at the stars and desperately trying to distract himself from the fact that Tony seemed to be flirting with everyone in the room except for him.

It had been an alright party, all things considered. Tony had invited Gwen and a few of their mutual friends from Stark Industries, and apparently several other people he knew but Peter didn’t. They were all nice people, chatty and knowledgeable and all ready to drink until they passed out.

Tony had brought lavish gifts in a pile almost as tall as Peter and the majority of the guests had all brought a gift or two along as well. Peter now had more ties, watches and bottles of alcohol than he had space for but he was delighted at each one, taking a shot each time he opened a present as instructed

Tony had bought him a dorky lab coat, (”in honour of how we met, Petercakes.”) and two soft sweaters. A gorgeous, deep red tie that Peter was sure matched one Tony owned himself. Three bottles of expensive, fruity alcohol and several small baggies of various chocolate covered fruits. A pair of classy, dark shades and a massive bath set filled with fruity scrubs and fizzy bath-bombs.

Peter had no idea ho he was gonna get all of it back to the Tower, and he vaguely mused on just leaving it all here for the night and picking it back up in the morning. He let his head loll against the cooling breeze, grip slackening on his flute of champagne. He’d lost count of how much he’d had to drink.

“What’cha Bruce Wayne-ing for out here, Peter?” came Tony’s slightly slurred, drunk-high voice from behind him, and Peter couldn’t help stiffening a little, gaze lifting from his arms to the city line before them. His stomach twisted with the thought of Tony mingling in the crowd, chatting up girls and flirting with boys.

“I’m not Batmanning,” he pouted, forcing himself to look when Tony came up half-besides him and half-behind him. Tony smelt like expensive whiskey and musky aftershave. His hair was mussed from the sleek style it had been in earlier, and three smudged lipstick prints dotted the line of his jaw.

Peter turned his gaze away.

“Out here alone, gazing moodily at the dark night, while a party in your honour is in full blast behind you,” Tony hummed, leaning against Peter’s shoulder heavily as he joined him in staring out at the twinkling lights of New York.

It took a moment for Peter to hone in on the scent of smoke, and he turned his head in alarm, only to find Tony grinning across at him, holding out a tiny cupcake with a single candle.

“I’ve already done the cake,” Peter mumbled, watching the small flame flickering in the breeze. Tony had custom-ordered a massive cake, with icing and sprinkles and little white chocolate cookies and all other sorts of decoration. It had taken Peter eight breaths to blow out all the candles. Tony met his gaze, eyes dark and pupils blown.

“I know. But… This is special. Just for us,” Tony murmured, still watching him. Peter’s heart immediately begun to race, pounding against his ribs as he met Tony’s stare.

“Make a wish then,” Tony coaxed, a lopsided grin quirking his mouth as he shifted his weight against the balcony. Peter kept his eyes as he listened, putting all of his faith and effort into thinking his wish before he leaned down, blowing the flame out with a short, sharp puff.

“What’da wish for?” Tony asked not even a second later, plucking the candle and tossing it aside to the floor as he offered Peter the cupcake. Peter hesitated, taking it and staring into the icing while he gathered his courage. Should he say it? Didn’t that ruin the magic?

He shifted uneasily, looking back out across the city as he sucked in a breath. “I wish you believed me when I say I love you,” he spat out in a rush, clutching the cupcake so tightly that it crumbled under his grip, icing folding across his knuckles. Tony stiffened besides him, pulling away a step and turning to face Peter, but he continued before Tony could say anything.

“I’m old enough to know love. I have been since I said it the second time. And… And I wish you loved me back. I really do. I know you don’t and I’m not gonna force it but I just… I mean it, Tony. And you know I do. I love you. I always have, and I think I will for a long time. Maybe always. But I just… That’s what I wished for. That you stopped treating it like a joke.”

Part of the cupcake fell away in a sad, dramatic slide and Peter forced himself to drag his gaze up, away from the view and across to Tony. Tony, who looked…Devastated. The expression on his face was enough of an answer for Peter, if the look in his eyes had failed to get the message across.

“Peter…I’m sorry, I…”

Peter let the rest of the cupcake fall, dropping his gaze to his trembling hands as he shook his head, unwilling to hear it. Unwilling to hear another rejection. He spun on his heel, almost stumbling as he fled for the door, pushing through and into the bright, loud warmth of the room. 

He stuck the wall, desperately skirting anyone who noticed him with an apologetic smile as he fumbled for his jacket, forgoing the elevator for the stairs.

He made it down four floors before he sank against the railing, gasping for air. His vision blurred with tears and he dragged himself to the elevator, hitting the button miserably as he stared down at his icing smeared hands, willing the crushing sensation to give him enough time to get home. 

His phone buzzed three times in his pocket, but he ignored it, stepping into the elevator and huddling into the corner as it carried him down to the foyer.

The night security looked surprised to see him, but obligingly ordered a car to be brought around, waiting with him and helping him into the back when it arrived. He wiped at his eyes, faking not feeling too good when the driver (Harry? Henry?) asked if he was alright.

When they arrived outside his house, the driver got out and helped him up, patting his shoulder comfortingly. He caught Peter’s eye, expression almost…Knowing. 

“Whatever he said or did, kid… Don’t hold it against him too much. Tony hasn’t been right in himself since his parents. He’ll make it up to you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him.”

Peter almost threw up on the spot, mumbling in response and darting for his door. The driver waited until he was inside, safe, before he left. Peter sank back against the door, finally giving into the burning sensation in his throat and howling as the tears begun to pour. Three times, he thought miserably.

He doesn’t love you. Never did. Never will.

A distant memory re-called itself to the front of his mind and through the haze of depression Peter fumbled for his phone, slick fingers sliding on the screen as he took several attempts to log into the Stark employee server. The announcement was still there, and his heart thumped with an icy determination as he scanned it.

Stark Industries was opening a new PR division in Malibu. 121 positions available.

He flipped to his email, thumbing in Pepper Pott’s ID. Despite her and Tony’s break-up she had remained a valued member of the company, double-acting as Tony’s PA and a member of HR.

His heart sank lower and his blood run colder with each word, until he felt numb as he hit send. He let his head fall back against the door, phone sliding to the carpet and he squeezed his eyes shut.

It was for the best.

[honeydots]

"61. “Were you drawing me?”" for the ask meme? 👀

“Were you drawing me?” 

akira sleeps in and yusuke takes advantage of that. because of COURSE if im given the opportunity to write shukita im going to take it of course i am 

-

(ao3 link)

-

Slugs were okay. 

Akira didn’t have much of an opinion on them, to be honest. Nothing negative. They were a little goopy, sure. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes you’re goopy and squishy and occasionally poisonous, it happens to everybody. Akira was sure he’d had a Saturday just like that. They were just little creatures. Slugging along. 

…That said, he didn’t like them much when they were on his face. He especially wouldn’t like them if they were the poisonous kind. He didn’t think these ones were, but still. That would be completely unpleasant. And then he’d be goopy until he died. Just terrible all around. 

But not these bad boys. Akira was sure they were just your everyday slug. Lucky for him! But they were still on his face. He didn’t really want that. Slug along anywhere else, please. He was trying to relax. This wasn’t the time. 

In his limited periods of consciousness, Akira often thought about how weird it was that he never realized when he was dreaming. Once he was in the dream, he was there. No second thoughts about it. The slugs were on his face now, and that’s where they belonged. But pointedly, again, they were not poisonous. Nice to know his subconscious wasn’t going for a gastropod themed execution. 

He woke up blissfully slug-free. Thank god. What a morning surprise that would’ve been. He also woke up alone, which wasn’t too unusual. Yusuke tended to be an early riser. Up and about, doing his creative stuff. He had picked up sculpting, recently. So far, he’d made a lovely bust of Isaac Newton (and if not him, it was a not-as-lovely bust of Haru), and a pistachio (this one really was a pistachio). Akira was happy he was expanding his repertoire, since he seemed to be enjoying himself. He was keeping busy, and he had a career after all. 

But the bed was meant for two. 

He shifted a bit, peeked his eyes open and, oh. He was surprised to see Yusuke sitting not far across from him. He was staring deeply into his sketchbook, very focused and very quiet. 

You know, he could always draw in bed. It’d be warmer that way. “Good morning.” Akira lazily stretched out his back. “Sketching?” 

Akira probably shocked him, because Yusuke jumped. He usually felt just a little bit bad when he did that, but today there was something mischievous dancing around in his brain. A tiny goblin who had wanted so desperately to cuddle, probably.

You and me both, Goblin-kun.

Yusuke looked up to him, and he seemed a little stoic. “You’ve awakened. Good afternoon. Please do not move.” 

Technical technical. Akira treated afternoons like mornings, anyway. He relaxed his body back down, trying to look as natural as possible. “Were you drawing me?” It wouldn’t surprise him. It’d hardly be the first time. Yusuke liked to make him blush by calling him things like his Muse, or his Starry Night, or his Lobster Fra Diavolo.

“Ah… I suppose,” said Yusuke. He swiveled a turn in his chair, and swept up a dab of paint with a brush. “Now, close your eyes again.” 

Akira did. So he was painting him. Again with Yusuke’s technicalities, his this’s and that’s. It was endearing. There was something very sweet about his specifics, since Akira knew he was included in them. 

He wondered if he could go back to sleep. If Yusuke wanted him to keep his eyes closed, the chances went up. He could already feel himself falling into it. Anyone who knew Akira was well aware that he wasn’t one to pass up opportunities to sleep in. Well, sleep in more than he already had. Yusuke knew better than to let him stay in bed, Akira couldn’t be blamed. And it was for art after all. 

But the afternoon did have plans for Akira. Goddamn. For example, something cold and wet being splattered onto his forehead. It was… weirdly familiar?

He jumped, but in like, a groggy half-awake confused boy way. “Ghh?” His eyes flickered open. Yusuke was there? He hadn’t heard him come over. “What are you…doing.” 

Yusuke remained focused as ever, eyes glued to, uh. Uh? “Akira, please. I do not want it in your eyes.” The wet spot moved and spread across his brow. 

The dots were sleepy and the lines were wiggling, but all connecting nonetheless. “Are you painting,” Akira said, flinching at the sloppy feeling, “on my face?” 

Yusuke lifted his paintbrush and looked very thoughtfully at the smear he’d created. “Do not speak much. I would hate for what has dried to crack.” He turned away, probably to get more paint. 

Akira squinted at him. It was already drying? As in drying drying? “How long have you been… at this.” 

Yusuke sighed, and shook his head. “Please, my love, if you must talk,” he said, turning back, “Try to be minimal. I will be finished soon.” 

He returned to Akira’s side, this time with a pool of paint on the back of his hand, probably for quick access. Akira stared silently at him. He wasn’t mad at all, more completely amused. Unique way to spend a morning. He’d woken up before with drawings on his face, but that was usually Futaba scribbling squiggles and mustaches with her sharpies. Oh, but he’d always get back at her for that. He’d refuse to wash it off and make her be seen with him, Mr. Sharpie Face Man, in the all forbidden public. She was one of those second-hand embarrassment people. 

Wow, the paint felt weird. He was all too aware of it sitting on his face. It was thick. And the actual spreading of it had been really strange. There were out of body experiences, and then there were all too aware of what is happening right now on your body experiences. Akira was the former. He was pretty surprised it hadn’t woken him up, actually. 

Wait. 

The slugs. 

The non-poisonous slugs. 

That made sense. 

Yusuke continued painting. Little swirls and pointed dots. Akira tried to guess what he was doing. The paint he had was blue, so maybe a bird? A fish? He was sure Yusuke would do something more outlandish, though. Maybe a bird with glasses. He wondered if Yusuke would let him name it. 

Inevitably, they made eye contact. Akira had been staring pretty relentlessly, and boy he was good at that. Yusuke held it for a moment, before something visibly clicked. There it was. Akira had been thinking about if he’d remember to answer. He didn’t, always. Yusuke had quite the way with concentration. He’d just about have to shake him out to come to dinner some nights. 

Yusuke had run out of paint on his hand, and he turned back to get more. A short silence hung. “A few hours,” he said. 

So, a while. His projects usually took a bit, so he was glad to hear this hadn’t been some all nighter. That could’ve been nice too, though, because then Yusuke would certainly take a nap. And of course then Akira would get to take a nap. Which would be great. But he’d have to wash all this paint off first. He hoped it would come off easy. 

It wasn’t like Yusuke had never painted on his body before. But that was usually, you know, doodling with a pen on his arm. Or some grand experiment on his back. Face painting wasn’t technically something to be considered out of the ordinary, but unconscious face painting was. Yusuke’s inspiration strikes were always charming. 

Akira watched as Yusuke readied his brush again. He felt him very gently move some hair out of his face. This wasn’t really a view Akira usually got. Hello there. Thank goodness he was nearsighted. 

But, all good things must come to an end. Yusuke looked down at him. “It really is imperative you shut your eyes, now. This would sting.” 

He probably spoke from experience. He already knew Yusuke had drunk paint water before. It was an accident, he said, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t also accidentally get paint in his eyes. Akira also doubted that the paint water incident was entirely accidental. He had evidence. But, despite all that, he heeded his advice. Yusuke was kind enough to wait until he did so. Akira wondered how long it would take for Yusuke to just start painting, anyway. 

He felt the brush fit into his eye socket and curve around down, above his cheek bone. Very confident but delicate strokes across his eyelid, and then repeated on the other side. He decided this was much better than slugs. Though still just as goopy.  

The brush lifted, and did not come back down. “There,” Yusuke began, “Now, please remain very still. I will return in just a moment.”  

Akira obliged, keeping his eyes shut tight but careful not to scrunch. He heard footsteps, and a door opening. Yusuke was probably getting their camera. They’d bought a very nice once for situations like this. Non-portable art, or anything that would wash away. Akira supposed he wouldn’t mind being on display for an art show. Ehh, that was, as long as it didn’t last too long. He didn’t really get fidgety, but he did get bored. 

He heard Yusuke come back, accompanied by some clicking and clunking. He probably also brought in a light, since he tended to be very particular about his art pictures. Akira appreciated that his face-canvas was being given such fancy treatment. He hoped he was doing the art justice. 

There was shuffling. The sound of curtains opening. The buzz of a lamp. And eventually, many, many clicks. Yusuke always took bunches of pictures, with light adjustments and in different positions. He’d learned how to use a camera very well, at this point. Akira was glad to see it, because initially Yusuke had been a little helpless with one.

He took pictures all the time now. It was much more convenient, since instead of pulling over and waiting thirty minutes for Yusuke to be satisfied with a sketch, they’d pull over and spend just ten minutes taking pictures. They still had to leave an hour early for events, but they were late less often. They were also a little poorer, because memory cards didn’t come cheap. Yusuke’s new cocaine, he guessed. 

The clicking went off and on. Akira sat through it, beginning to drift back to sleep again. When Yusuke had said ‘afternoon’ that could’ve meant 12:01, right? Which meant it would be perfectly reasonable to sleep for a few more hours. Just a little catnap. He’d bet anything Morgana was still sleeping. And how was that fair? 

He was thoroughly lost in cat-jealousy thoughts, and did not notice the clicking stop. So, the sound of Yusuke’s voice scared him right out of his drowsiness. “You can move about now. I’ve finished.” Gah. 

So, no naps for him. Yet. But Akira guessed he was getting a little bit cramped anyway. He stretched out again, properly this time, and opened his eyes. He watched as Yusuke turned off the extra light, and carefully put the camera down. 

Yusuke looked to Akira and smiled very sweetly. Akira smiled back, entirely sure he probably looked very silly. His whole face was (presumably?) blue, after all. He was still thinking of a bird name. 

Yusuke sat down at the foot of their bed. He fiddled a bit with his fingers, and scratched at the drying paint on his hands. A learned habit.“I do hope you slept well.” 

“Mm,” Akira replied, pushing himself up. “I think you gave me weird dreams.” He felt around a little for his glasses. If paint got on them, oh well. He’d curse the glasses god today. He wanted to see. 

Yusuke reached out and picked up Akira’s pair. “Did I?” He handed them to him. 

This tended to be a typical morning procedure. “Thanks.” He was pretty sure Yusuke’s hands were covered in paint. Maybe it was inevitable his glasses would get messy. “You did.”  

“I apologize. You seemed to be sleeping quite soundly.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Vision at last. 

Yusuke seemed relieved. Akira was sure if he told him about his slug encounter, he would take a good fifteen minutes connecting it to art and philosophy. Which would be fine, but Akira’s face was kind of itchy and scratchy. He could tell him later. He picked at it a bit. 

It wasn’t like Yusuke wouldn’t notice, obviously, but it probably gave him the wrong idea. “The paint is thoroughly non-toxic. There is nothing to worry about.” He rubbed hard on his hand. 

Akira wasn’t worried. There were things to worry about with Yusuke, but he wouldn’t consider this one of them. Yusuke was particular, it was a completely defining trait of his. No, Akira would not trust him with their grocery money. He would also not trust him left alone in a candy store. But he was considerate, and precise, and attentive. Especially to his art. And especially, Akira would bashfully admit, to him. 

He could still tease him a little though. “It’s not at all?” 

Yusuke straightened himself up. Which was a little bit funny to watch with his typically impeccable posture. It was more like he shuffled his shoulders around and puffed out his chest. “Absolutely. I would never let you near such toxins, not even dream of such a thing.” It was hard to not constantly give Yusuke fond looks. 

He failed. He was a fond look giving machine. “So a kiss would be fine?” He grinned a very bluish grin. Give him a smooch, art boy. It would probably be better than paint water. Actually, he really really hoped it would be better than paint water.

“Ah.” Yusuke said, giving a sigh. “An innocent request turned devilish, I see.” Yusuke was also a fond look giving machine. They could make it a competition. The most sugary and sweet one in the world. The kind that would give Morgana hairballs, the poor cat. 

Akira didn’t say anything. He looked at Yusuke, guilty but not regretful, and waited. It was only a little devilish, he thought. He could do much worse. He could do better, too. But there was no fun in that. 

Yusuke stood up, and walked right up next to Akira, standing just where he was before. Akira gave him an innocent look; he was good at those, and it made Yusuke smile. Which was only more reason to get even better at them. Lying at interrogations was just an added bonus.

Yusuke was an all or nothing kind of guy. Akira knew this. So he wasn’t surprised when Yusuke cupped his face and leaned down, to give him a kiss, first on the cheek, then on the lips. Soft and sweet. Lovey and dovey. 

Akira was very unhappy to see that when they pulled away, a grand total of none of the paint had gotten onto Yusuke. A foiled plan. He wiped at his lips anyway. How rude, you mean to say he didn’t want second-hand (second… face?) paint on his mouth? Like some kind of moderately health conscious member of society? You drank paint water, Yusuke. You’ve eaten grass before, Yusuke! The thought made him chuckle.

“What is it?” Yusuke asked, sitting himself down on the bed. 

He probably wouldn’t appreciate the thought. “Nothing.” Akira fiddled with a piece of hair. “Did you get the picture you wanted?” 

The question made Yusuke beam. “Indeed. I took several. Adjustments do need to be made, however.” 

“That’s good.” He was glad Yusuke had become accustomed to editing digital photos. He was very against it at first, pretty much because he didn’t really understand what the editing was. Not like, photoshopping things in. Just things like saturation and lighting. This was another little hobby he’d picked up. He had never accidentally recreated Isaac Newton in Adobe, though. 

“I will most certainly show you the completed product.” 

“I’ll look forward to it,” Akira said. His nose itched. Not really in a sneezy way, but it was annoying him. He wanted to sniff, but he also didn’t exactly want to snort up Yusuke’s project. Yucky. “I think I want to wash this off, now.” 

“Ah, of course.” Yusuke moved to let Akira off the bed. He hovered there quietly as Akira got up, and followed him to the bathroom. 

Okay? “What’s up?” 

Yusuke pressed his lips together. “Oh. I simply wanted to help you. As a penance, perhaps.” 

Akira scoffed. “Strong word.” He didn’t mind Yusuke helping. He’d probably need it, or he’d give up halfway and finish by midnight. What wasn’t inherently tender about getting paint rubbed off your face. Ugh, and the peeling. It wasn’t a super great smell, either. He was gonna have such a look going on for this. Cute. 

They walked in. Akira turned on the light and readied himself for a face scrubbing. He wondered if there had been any that got in his hair. That would suck getting out. He looked in the mirror, his mind set on checking, and thoroughly surprised himself at his reflection. 

So the bird guess? He was kind of sort of close. 

He’d made his whole face very lightly blue. There were feathers painted around his eyes that very gracefully formed into wings bending out and upwards towards his forehead. Little patterns of flowers and leaves framed his face and fell in swooping designs. It was all done in different shades of blue, you had to really look at it to see all the detail. Except on his cheeks. In a thick gold sat long tears, layered on top of each other. They traveled all the way down to his chin. 

It was pretty. 

He wanted to touch it.

He pressed his fingers into his cheeks, and squished upwards. It was sticky, and it didn’t give way much. But the farther he went, the more it moved. It got on his hands. He was all smudgy now. This was incredible. 

He was also being watched. “I’m not sure that’s the most effective way.” Yusuke commented.

“I feel like,” Akira kept on squishing, “the slime in those stim videos.” 

He laughed lightly at that. “I suppose we do all experience art in our own ways.” 

Akira watched Yusuke absentmindedly through the mirrors reflection, while still giving his face a very blue massage. He grabbed a rag, and turned on warm water. He also took out a bottle from one of their cupboards. Yusuke had all sorts of painting things stored away, so it wasn’t all that surprising. Akira had found about eight bottles of acetone in Yusuke’s dorm room years ago. He remembered gaining a certain understanding of Yusuke’s budgeting problems.

He placed his materials down. “Will you be satisfied soon?” He asked, now watching him closely. 

Akira paused mid-squish. He looked at Yusuke from the corner of his eye. “You want to give it a try?” Why not. 

Yusuke blinked at him. And then visibly considered it.

“I’ve no reason to object, I suppose.” 

Double the squish. This probably could’ve gone fifty-fifty. Akira dragged his fingers off his face, careful not to touch anything. They didn’t need a blue bathroom too. He held his own hands, and let Yusuke reach over to him. 

Yusuke, who gave this a little more forethought than Akira had, removed his glasses first. Yeah, smart move. He couldn’t exactly wear them while they washed his face, anyway. He followed Yusuke’s hands as best he could when he put the glasses down, and followed them back up as he rested his palms on Akira’s face. 

He pressed inwards and held him there for a second, and then moved his palms farther up just past his cheekbones. It made Akira quietly giggle, just quick little exhales. It felt way weirder when someone else was doing it. Not that it hadn’t felt a bit weird when he’d done it himself. 

Yusuke was smiling too. Akira was very adamantly keeping his eyes open, which sometimes proved to be a challenge. He was gonna sit there and stare him down like this was the height of romance. 

Yusuke placed his thumbs on the crook of Akira jawline, and swiped with his fingers outwards on his cheeks. He stayed there. Akira leaned into it. “Having fun?” 

Yusuke tapped his fingers. “As much as you will let me.” 

Akira nestled himself farther into Yusuke’s hands. It scrunched his face up more. He felt so squashed. Now this was amore. He was the king of romance. 

It made Yusuke laugh, just a little. “You know, we are wasting water.” 

In reply, Akira (very masterfully) kept as blank as an expression as possible while giving him fish lips. 

That got a real laugh out of Yusuke, and he took his hands away. It was always nice to get laughs out of him. He didn’t used to often. That was, other than his occasional hearty chuckle when he was feeling an odd kind of inspired. Akira liked those ones, too.

Yusuke scrubbed his hands as well as he could in the water, and then wet down the rag. “Let us get to work, then.”

He was very gentle, wiping off big pieces and rinsing the rag whenever it got cold. Alright, this may have been better than Akira had anticipated. Yusuke was considerate and routined. Working through section after section, and making sure no water dribbled down onto his clothes. It was almost nice, even with the inevitable scrubbing that came with it. Yusuke picked up the mystery bottle. Akira gave it a look.

Yusuke had always been good at reading him. “It is coconut oil.” He unscrewed the cap. “Oils do well to get paint off of skin.” 

He made a little noise of understanding, and Yusuke went back to his work. It was less rough this time. He felt super greasy, though. He was pretty sure coconut oil was good for your face? Maybe this would turn out to be a miniature spa session. He wondered if Yusuke was any good at nail art. 

“Close your eyes, now,” said Yusuke. Akira was also pretty sure coconut oil was not good for the eyes. Just a wild guess. He did as he was asked, and Yusuke went to work, very careful on his eyelids. Very very careful around his eyes.

That reminded him. “I have a question.” 

Yusuke hardly hesitated. “Anything.” 

“Why was I crying?”

Yusuke stopped, just for a moment. “Ah,” A silence sat. “It was only that, in your rest… you simply seemed horribly melancholic.”

He sounded so sad. 

And Akira about choked. 

Yusuke retreated immediately. “Have I gotten some in your mouth? I am terribly sorry.” Understandable question, he’d made him start coughing like a maniac. 

He cleared his throat. He was fine, he was chill. “No, don’t worry. That’s not it.” He wiped around his eyes. Oil was kind of gross, actually. 

“Oh.” 

He should probably elaborate. Yusuke looked confused. “It’s just funny you say I looked sad.” He leaned down onto the counter. “I was dreaming about slugs.” Or, the everlasting woes of slugs, apparently. 

Yusuke paused. Processing, a little bit. “Slugs… you say?” 

Slugs… he said. “Yep.”

“Were they… causing you any discomfort?”

Akira shook his head. “They were just hanging out.”

Yusuke was obviously considering this. It made him smile too, of course, but he was certainly lost in thought. 

He’d come to his conclusion. “Perhaps they meant something more profound. The ways of the subconscious are ever mysterious.” He wet down the rag again, and poured more coconut oil. 

Did they need that much? “Maybe.” 

Apparently, they did. Less is more, but more is also more. He started up again, lightly scrubbing. “You know, due to ancient influences, a slug is considered to be more of a spiritual being than an earthly being. In symbolism, that is.”

“Is it now?” He’d known this would happen. Of course it would, it was Yusuke. He always kept little random pieces of knowledge about symbolic references in art and literature. 

Which, you know, was fine. He was happy to hear it. He was covered in paint and coconut oil, sure, but they were working on it. Sometimes, this was what your days were like. Lazy, and a little slimy. He hoped that his skin would glow like goddamn Polaris after this.

They’d fly down a list of topics, starting at one point and ending at another. Yusuke would lose himself in talking, and Akira would always love to listen. 

So, the morning ended the way it began. Feeling goopy.

And slugs. 

[otome-writer51]

A Ninja’s Kin

Hey guys!!!!!! It has been a long time since I’ve posted a story. I’ve been lacking motivation, but I am back with a piece dedicated to the lovely @raisukemerch. I had this amazing woman as my person in the writers/artist exchange in @voltage-vixen Kings of Paradise server. Thank you so much Kristen for organizing this whole entire event. It was so much fun to write something for someone, and getting to understand their favorite character(s). Also for just being the amazing, crazy, kind person you are!!!!!!!!! I might have went a little crazy Bunny, but it was all worth it!!!!! Writing this piece for you helped me develop a closer bond as friends with you, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. You also got me addicted to SLBP; which I was hesitant to play because I wasn’t a fan of SAC. I will thank you forever for getting me hooked on this game!!!!!! I got to writing and I just couldn’t stop; it’s a bit longer than you were probably expecting, but YOU DESERVE ALL OF IT YOU AMAZING HUMAN!!!!! You are the best merch dealer on the planet, and you have the most amazing chicken!!!!!!!!!!! I know you have already read it in a PDF on the server, but it needs to go here so everyone can see how badass you and your family are, and how cute you and Saizo are of course!!!!!!!! I hope you enjoy it even more here on Tumblr!!!!!! I LOVE YOU BUNNY SO MUCH!!!!!!!! YOU ARE TRULY SAIZO’S LITTLE LADY!!!!!!!

Now onto the many many many thanks I have to give. I want to say thank you to @leoamber66 and @voltage-vixen for helping me get this spot on. I just started playing this game, and didn’t know everything I needed to do Saizo justice. You both helped me with that, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! Also thank you so much Kristen for helping me with Saizo at the ending. You are the only person that has read the original version of the ending, and I am so glad you read it, and gave me feedback. I originally was only going to fix it, but after talking with you I realized it needed a complete overhaul!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lastly I want to give SUPER GINORMOUS THANKS TO @the-voltage-diaries(Zela) and @awesomeallseeingeye(Kay)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! First off, Zela made this beautiful edit to go with this novel, and it is absolutely amazing!!!!!!!! Thank you so much for the POV banner, it adds a certain magic that it didn’t have before. These two outstanding ladies were with me the most while I was writing this piece. They both edited the whole entire thing to make it perfection!!!!!!!! When one of them went to sleep it was time for the other to wake up; and they helped me so much, even though they did not have to!!!!!!!! This piece would not be the way it is now without the two of you guys!!!!! THANK YOU ZELA AND KAY SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE BOTH OF YOU!!!!!!!!!! I COULD NOT HAVE DONE THIS WITHOUT YOU!!!!!!!! Also all the laughs we shared typing back and forth on the document will stay with me forever, I will never forget them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go give all these wonderful folks some love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now without further ado I present to you Bunny’s amazing family!!!! (It is in five parts to avoid having over 10,000 words on one post).

“Ha! Haru, you need to square up your shoulders to your target more if you ever want to beat me,” my oldest boy, Takeshi, chided his younger brother on his form. He had him in a compromising position to say the least, until Haru gracefully moved out of his clutches.

“I will beat you, with my shoulders squared or not,” my much younger boy growled at his older brother, knocking heads and giving him a death glare. You would think Haru was going to win this round, with how much anger he spat those words at Takeshi.

‘They get more competitive everyday,’ I giggled to myself, thinking. They were fiercely competitive, just like their father, but perhaps not as competitive as…

“Hi-ya!” Tackling both boys to the ground was my beautiful daughter Sakura. My oldest boy may be an exact copy of his father, but Sakura definitely inherited his sneaky side.

She flung herself down from a tree ending any kind of dispute between the two brothers that was sure to continue if she hadn’t.

“You both need to work on your spatial awareness if you ever want to dream of beating me.” Rising elegantly to her feet, she scolded them with so much sass I couldn’t help but be proud of her. She turned around with a quick whip of her long flowing hair, leaving both of her brothers on the ground, in a heap of grumbling mess.

“I see you have yet to outgrow your love for trees, honey,” I spoke sweetly to my girl.

She looked up at me with those big round eyes and said, “If daddy still likes trees at his age I never have to out grow trees, mommy,” punctuating ‘mommy’ in a way that was unnecessary.

I knew she would never lose her passion for trees, not when Saizo took her up one everyday to read her tales.

She walked over to the veranda in hopes of snuggling my beloved Yogurt until his eyes popped out of his head. “YOGURT!!!” She reached down to pick up the chicken and squeezed him with all her might.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!!” Yogurt exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

I put a hand to my face and let out a laugh. That poor chicken, his eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

With a sigh I was about to tell her to ease up on the love fest when a snarky voice called out, “Well if she ever wanted to truly defeat me she would have outgrown her idiotic delusions that she can turn her back on the enemy.”

Barreling ahead at full speed with his wooden sword above his head, Takeshi closed in on his little sister. Sakura dropped Yogurt in shock, and he hurriedly ran away, cowering under a nearby log.

Sakura tried to defend herself but she was a second too late. Takeshi already had her in his vice grip, his sword resting across her throat. “See? We both knew you could never best me.”

Pursing her pretty pink lips, Sakura desperately tried to escape his hold.

It was a test between siblings. A passion burned in their eyes, much like the way their father’s gleamed when he went into battle.

‘They are for sure his children alright.’

Everything was just the way it should be, except for one little rascal, who was missing from this picture.

“Hey don’t you dare talk to my big sister like that!” Deciding his presence couldn’t be excluded from this party anymore, Haru sped over like a torpedo ready to show his big brother what happens when you mess with his big sister.

This was only meant to be a light training session. Of course it wouldn’t turn out that way though, these were mine and Saizo’s children after all, and it was escalating quickly.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!” Brandishing his own training sword above his head just like his brother did only moments before, Haru lunged at Takeshi. In one swift movement, pushing his sister aside, Takeshi side-stepped Haru’s advances and flipped him over, back onto the ground to join his sister. “Uggggghh,” spread eagle on the ground, Haru moaned in pain. Sakura rubbed her butt, trying to ease the dull ache from her fall.

Proudly sheathing his training sword in his belt, Takeshi walked over to where Yogurt was to sooth the frightened chicken. Getting down on his knees, he held his hand out to him, “Come on, Yogurt, it’s safe to come out. That bad girl can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You see, this is why I like Haru more than you,” Sakura grimaced, gesturing to Haru, who finally was able to sit up after the ordeal he just went through. Now they were both glaring at Takeshi, who had finally managed to get Yogurt to come out of his hiding spot.

‘I think I should intervene before this gets out of control, but they are so adorable I can’t,’ Is all I could think as I watched my three young children bicker back and forth.

“You two are just jealous you are not as awesome as me,” Takeshi puffed out his eleven year old chest proudly, smirking at his younger siblings.

“Okay, okay,” I said, deciding to intervene now, “that is enough, you three. Come, let us go prepare dinner, your father should be finished with his meeting soon,” I ordered, speaking authoritatively to my rambunctious lot.

“Of course, mommy. Can we prepare him dango? Daddy loooooves dango!!!” Sakura pleaded cutely, looking up at me with her puppy-dog eyes, pulling on my robes.

“Is there any other option?” I asked with a knowing smile, taking my daughter’s hand in mine. “Come, you boys, let’s go,” I said, looking at my other two kids, only to realize my words fell on deaf ears, for my boys had their own plans in mind.

Takeshi was still standing triumphantly, petting Yogurt, while Haru was fuming at his obnoxious older brother. “Aren’t older brothers supposed to be people younger brothers look up to? If so, you are the worst older brother ever.” Stomping his little foot, Haru balled his hands up into tiny fists at his sides, giving his brother the look of a predator.

“Oh, stop being a wimp, Haru. You lost fair and square. You just need to face it; I’ve got five years on you and will always be ahead of you,” Takeshi taunted with a smirk, challenging his little brother.

“Takeshi, Haru do not speak to each other that way!” I scolded my children, an undertone of anger in my voice.

But of course, they did not hear me. Instead, Haru leaned down and picked up his weapon again, looking ready to kill. “YOU GET READY! I AM GOING TO SHOW YOU HOW ON THE SAME LEVEL WE ACTUALLY ARE!” Haru shouted, dashing forward at an incredibly fast speed… only to be met with a strong hand holding him in place.

“Are you joking right now? Is that seriously the best you’ve got?” Holding Haru with one hand to his forehand, and Yogurt in the other, it seemed like a walk in the park for my eldest son. Putting Yogurt down, Takeshi ripped Haru’s wooden blade out of his hand.

“Urrrgh. I am so going to get you!” Haru yelled at Takeshi, swinging his arms wildly to try and strike a hit on him, but to no avail.

“You boys!” I said, raising my voice at the ridiculousness of my sons, “STOP IT NOW.” ‘Did things always get like this when Saizo was training them?’ Sighing to myself, I let go of my daughter’s hand and marched right over to them.

“You poor thing. Watch and learn how the real men do it,” said Takeshi, and in the blink of an eye, he let go of Haru and swiped the sword right through his legs, knocking him on his back for the third time that day. “I. TOLD. YOU. Maybe one day you might achieve this level of awesomeness,” laughed Takeshi, holding his brother's sword high in the air, striking a pose. It was in his gloating that he did not realize he left himself so utterly exposed.

Grabbing the sword on his brother's belt, Haru used this golden moment to nail Takeshi. Blindly swinging his weapon upwards, he missed his brother's arm, instead hitting his sword and knocking it over the fence. He stood tall, eyeing his brother and even though he didn’t land a direct hit, anything was better than nothing.

“Haru, you idiot,” muttered the elder, “now the sword is all the way over there.” Grabbing his little brother by the collar, he got dangerously close to his face. Haru was, at this point, sweating, but he wouldn’t dare let Takeshi have the joy of knowing how he made him nervous. Ready to give him a piece of his mind, the elder raised his fist.

“Takeshi. Haru.” I called out, standing right in front of them. They froze at the chilly tone my voice had taken. My boys finally both seemed to notice my presence. Their heads turned in unison to witness the anger apparent on my face. I was seething. ‘Oh, how dare they ignore me.’

They both let go of each other and stood as still as statues, facing me. “Ye-yes, m-m-mother?” they whispered nervously. I could tell they were frightened, for it was one thing for Saizo to get mad, but when they made me mad, they knew just how bad they had really messed up.

With them fidgeting nervously in front of me, I finally had their full attention, so I spoke, “What is the matter with you two? I told you that was enough for today. When I told you to come, you did not come; in fact you ignored me and continued your mindless bickering. I have never seen the two of you act so hostile towards each other. You both wish to become great ninjas, but you will never with the way you are acting. I am very, very deeply disappointed with the both of you. Your father would be very disappointed with you two as well,” I said, shaking my head, “Do you hear me?”

Hanging their heads in shame, they kicked the rocks at their feet, twiddling their thumbs.

They did not answer me, and so I questioned again, louder, “Do you hear me?” The air outside dropped 30 degrees at my icey tone.

“Ye-yes m-mo-mother,” they nervously looked up at me, answering, afraid for their little lives. Any of the bravery they showed before was long gone now.

“You two are to go to bed with no supper after you finish cleaning all this mess up from your so-called ‘training’. I want it to be spotless out here. I want the dirt and grass so clean you can eat off of them.” I barked at them, too angry with them to tolerate any of their bitching, which they so happened to deliver.

Takeshi was the first to speak, “But mom that’s not fair! It is going to take hours to clean all of this up. Not just our training, but everyone else’s too! I hardly th-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, young man.”

He snapped his mouth shut, shrinking back to the same cowering little boy he was moments before.

“Hahaha!” I heard Sakura snickering in the background.

I snapped my head around to her, “Sakura, I kindly advise you to keep your mouth shut as well, unless you wish to aid your brothers in cleaning, with no dinner.” Her big beautiful eyes went as wide as saucers. She quickly shut her mouth, her eyes suddenly seeming to find the floor of the veranda very charming.

Letting out a frustrated groan, I turned back to my boys. “Haru, go get that sword you knocked over the fence, now. Take the long way around as well. It will give you time to think about what you have done,” I spat at my baby, who had tears forming in the corners of his eyes. At this point, I just wanted to hug him and wipe those tears away, but now was not the time.

“Hahaha,” now Takeshi was the one snickering.

Glaring, I doubled down on his punishment, “You better have half of this courtyard spotless by the time he gets back, boy.”

“But-! Mom, I can’t poss-” He groaned to me, but I cut him off with a tone that demanded no response, and a glare that had the potential to pierce one’s soul.

“TAKESHI.” He bit back his words letting a small, ‘Yes, mother,’ before he dashed off to start cleaning. I turned to Haru, “What are you waiting for? Go get that sword before the sun goes down.” With that, he scampered off, not because he wanted to make it back before sunset, but because he didn’t wish for me to see his tears.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5