#they were just sketches last night but decided to polish a little

[shrimpchipsss]

villain monologue 2.0

#they were just sketches last night but decided to polish a little #middling everyman shapeshifter sqh #wanna punch him in the face but hes too slippery the hit probably won't land #want him to have kinda distinctive hands #rat bastard #rats can be extremely cute too! #shang qinghua #airplane shooting towards the sky #sqh #scum villain #svsss

[boyfriendsmalec]

Bad Buddy Post Episode 11, Canon Divergence

It’d been three years since they left Bangkok with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They’d never looked back since.

If they’d left their tiny little beach oasis where would they be, Pran wondered. He couldn't imagine not wanting to be anywhere but here. At their tiny seaside cottage overlooking the beach, his husband cleaning up the remains of a wine-and-cheese afternoon with some of the neighbors, the sound of the crashing waves in the distance.

“Babe, can you help me get the leftover cheddar and brie in the fridge?”

Pran snapped out of his haze, humming as he cleaned.

Little pieces of their new life together were scattered everywhere. Pran’s new guitar, polished, propped on its stand. Pran’s interior design drawings tacked to the wall in their study nook. Pat’s snorkeling gear tucked on the back porch, his engineering sketches spread over his desk. The salty ocean breeze came into the room, rustling the little knick-knack seashell wind chimes Pat insisted they buy last time they went to the bigger city about an hour away. Pran had said it looked tacky but he’d indulged him nonetheless. There was little he could say no to Pat on.

He glanced down at his slim silver ring. It wasn’t expensive, but it didn’t have to be. It meant more to Pran than any other item he owned. It meant the world, that thin little piece of metal. Because of the message behind it. Because it meant Pat was his, and he was Pat’s. For all of time.

After Pran put the cheese in the fridge and finished wiping down the countertops, he stared at the curve of Pat’s back and without thinking, he pressed in close behind him, wrapping his arms around Pat's waist, nose dug in between Pat’s shoulder blades.

“Hey, you,” Pat craned his neck enough to press a light kiss against Pran’s hair before turning back to finishing the dishes. “Want to go out for dinner tonight? They just opened a new noodle place and I–”

Pran let out a sound of protest, resting his chin on Pat’s shoulder. “No. Want to stay in.”

“Oh yeah?” Pat’s wet hands fell to Pran’s hands, gripping lightly at his wrists. “You have something in mind?”

Pran pulled back and Pat turned around, his gaze simmering with a low heat. “You’re insatiable Pran Niran.”

Niran. It meant eternal in Thai. They’d chosen it when they got married almost three years ago. It was shortly before their wedding that they decided to change their last names. Their parents would never be able to find them. They were adults, with completely new identities. They were wiped clean of their last names, no longer tied down by their parents’ names. They were free. They were born anew.

Pran had selected the name himself. He wanted something that represented how he felt about Pat. Their love, it was everlasting, and he wanted a name that reflected that.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Pran grinned, before gently pushing at Pat’s chest. “I’m too tired for that tonight.”

“Did I wear you out too much last night?” Pat asked, with a proud smile.

Pran snorted. He was a little worn out from the other night, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Pat. “You’re one to talk. Last week you couldn’t even get out of bed.”

Pat pouted. “Hey! You said you wouldn’t use that against me. It’s not my fault I strained a muscle.” Pat pinched at Pran’s cheek, who batted his hand away. “After all you’re the one who kept insisting on–”

“Enough Pat, I have something important to talk to you about.”

Pat quickly grew more serious, eyebrows drawing together. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I,” Pran started, considering his words. “I actually got a music agent that agreed to sign with me.”

“What?” Pat’s eyes brightened. “Pran, that’s fantastic!” Pat grabbed Pran around the middle, heaving him up before spinning him round and round in circles as Pran laughed and tried to shove him away.

“Pat! Put me down!” Pran protested, though his laughter gave away that he wasn’t truly angry.

Thankfully Pat complied, setting Pran down. “Baby, why aren’t you acting more excited?”

“I am,” Pran said. “It’s just, with a music agent it's possible that if I end up eventually recording more music that my name will be out there. My photo. Our parents might… it might make it easier to find us.”

Pat’s expression hardened and he clasped Pran’s hands in his. “Don’t worry about them, Pran. This is your dream. We always knew there was a possibility they might find us someday. And if they do, they can’t separate us again. We’re adults now. We graduated, we’re married now. Pran, they can’t touch us.”

“I know,” Pran said, squeezing Pat’s hands. “Sometimes I feel bad. I know I shouldn’t after everything they put us through, but I do.”

“It’s because you’re a naturally kind person,” Pat said, pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles of Pran’s left hand, right above his wedding ring. “For me, I couldn’t care less about my parents. I do miss Pa though.”

There was a wistful look in Pat’s eye and it made Pran’s chest tighten.

“Maybe she and Ink could come visit us sometime,” Pran said. “Or we could visit them.”

Pa was the only one back home that Pat still spoke too. Every couple months he would give her a call. Update her, reassure her they were both fine.

One time Pran called Wai. It was after he and Pat got married. At that point, he knew there was no going back. He wanted to let Wai know he wouldn't be coming back. That he and Pat were staying. For good.

It had been summer break, so they had plenty of time drafting the paper work to transfer universities. With their grades, they’d gotten full-ride scholarships to the local university half an hour drive away.

They saved up enough money working as servers to rent their little beach cottage for cheap from an older lady who took kindly to them. She had spied them together on the beach and said they made her remember her and her old girlfriend. Lovers who had forsaken their families to be together.

After moving into their cottage, they worked on finishing their degrees. Upon graduating Pat started working as a green-energy engineer in town and around the same time Pran began working remotely for an interior design company in the nearby city, drafting design plans.

They always had enough money to put food down on the table, enough that they were saving up to someday get a larger place. Somewhere with at least three bedrooms. They had firmly decided someday they wanted to have kids, though far enough in the future that they didn’t have to think about it too seriously yet.

And Pa, she could visit. She and Ink would have a place to stay whenever they came to visit their nieces and nephews.

“I would like to see Pa and Ink too,” Pat said, a small smile low on his face.

“Soon,” Pran promised.

“Enough about that. We should celebrate that you got an agent!” Pat wrapped his arms around Pran’s waist, squeezing him tight.

“I told you I want a night in,” Pran groaned, though he didn’t fight Pat this time, relaxing in his arms.

“Come for a swim with me, at least?” Pat offered, pressing a kiss to the crest of Pran’s shoulder and Pran melted.

“Okay,” Pran breathed out.

It didn’t take long for them to get changed into their swim gear. It was a warm summer night, but the water was still a bit cold. So Pran kept close to Pat for warmth. Yes, that’s definitely the only reason he kept close to him.

Pat always smelled so good like this. The sea salt on his skin. After he’d come back from a swim or from snorkeling, Pran would just like to lay down and smell him. He tried to do it without Pat realizing it. The last thing he needed was Pat to start relentlessly teasing him for something Pran had always poked fun at Pat for. But Pran couldn’t help it. Pat did smell good. He always did.

“You thinking about me, baby?” Pat teased after they came back to shore, as they laid down in the sand.

“Thinking about how you probably left the fan on inside again,” Pran said, with a glance toward their back porch.

Pat huffed, pretending to be indignant and Pran simply rolled his eyes fondly as he looked at the sun dipping below the horizon.

The sea, the breeze, you, and me.

It truly was all Pran needed.

In another reality maybe they parted and went back to Bangkok. But even in those imagined universes Pran knew they’d always end up together. No matter what.

But in this universe, Pran was happy with his choices. He wouldn’t go back on them for a second.

Of course he did wonder about his mother. How she was doing. But then in the next moment he would remind himself of the years of trauma she put him through. The hiding, the lying, the fear.

Maybe one day he’d see her again. Maybe one day she would accept him and Pat. But even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter anymore. Because he’d chose Pat. And he’d chose him time after time, in every universe.

If soulmates were real, then Pat was his. Pran knew this to the very marrow of his bones. He knew it the day Pat handed him that watch, and again on the rooftop of their first kiss, and again at their wedding on this very beach three years ago.

Pran looked over at Pat and smiled, and it reminded him of all those years ago when they laid on the pavement in front of that broken bus stop. But this time he could do what he wanted to do. He could lean over and kiss him.

So that’s exactly what he did.

#bad buddy #bad buddy fanfic #patpran #patpran fanfic #take this fluff with you guys to help us tide over until episode 12 on friday #p'aof couldn't give them the gay beachside cottage core dream life #so I will take one for the team and do it myself #if you like this and feel comfortable feel free to leave a comment they mean the world to me <3

[lil-pine-mha-drabbles]

can i request tokoyami or tetsutetsu with a

s/o that has adhd? :)

Tokoyami x Reader with ADHD.

There are so many different types of adhd and I didn’t want to disrespect anyone with how I wrote it so I placed in my own adhd. This is ligit how I act every day and I apologize if it’s not what you were looking for.

Also I saw you said s/o instead of boyfriend or girlfriend so I tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible. I usually only write for female readers so I will try my best with this.

I really hope you like it! Here are some people that inspire me! @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 1140 words to read below the line!!

————————————

Weeks ago you were sitting on the couch in the common room with Tokoyami when you got this sudden urge, his feathers looked so soft. You slowly reached out and touched your boyfriend’s face as he flinched and froze up. You petted his black feathers as he coo’ed for the first time. He cuddled into you, his head in your lap as you pet around his cheeks and under his chin. You continued the head pats for a while, heard some chirps you’ve never heard from him, and you smiled brightly at his cute sounds. After that first day it became an unspoken rule that after a long day, Tokoyami would lay in your lap and you would both relieve stress through it.

When you were with your classmates you were loud and fast talking, speaking your mind quickly to get to the point before anyone shushes you. Although most times you were shushed by everyone, except for Tokoyami and Kaminari, that’s why they were your closest friends.

You stared out the window of Aizawa’s class and watched some birds fly outside, reminding you of your boyfriend. You looked around a bit at the room of bored teens and an equally bored teacher and decided that you should listen.

After three minutes of listening you started doodling little eyes and flowers into your notes, little faces came to life on the page as you sketched their tiny little noses, and you imagined the little car you drew to drive off the page and down the side of the desk and then wondered if it would crawl up the desk next to you or go under the seat.

Your eyes followed the path you thought best for the small car until it “rolled” up the ceiling and “fell” on your desk. You then decided you wanted to speed run the whole path again and your eyes darted around the room to match what path you made earlier, restarting whenever you got it too wrong.

You were pulled out of your “car racing” when your boyfriend patted your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You turned to him, he sighed when he looked at your notes covered in drawings.

“Schools done for the day, it’s time to go to the dorms.” He gently grabbed your bag and you got up excitedly.

“Can we make ramen!?” You asked him excitedly, and you could’ve sworn his beak shifted in a small smile.

“Okay.”

You talked about the most random things as you passed the school buildings on the way to your rooms. Sometimes Tokoyami had to pull back the conversation to bring you to a conversation he was still interested in by a few phrases,

“Can we go back to that one thing, I’m still thinking on the topic”

“Oh, wait, we were talking about the other thing. Can we go back to that I’m still confused.”

He always made sure you knew he was still interested and if you wished to skip over a subject, all you had to do was say the word and he wouldn’t bring it up again.

You became a little quieter when you reached his room and opened the door for your birdbrain.

You looked at his black nails and watched how the color was chipped in some places.

“We need to paint them again,” you said as you shut the door.

“Paint, what?”

“Oh, your nails. They’re getting all chippy again.” You crawled into his lap when he jumped unceremoniously onto the bed. He carded one hand through your hair and you held the other, plucking off little pieces of each nail until the whole hand was clear of the black polish.

When you dropped his hand another came in its place and you started on that one. Since his hand would be at an odd angle if he played with your hair this time, he picked up his poetry book and read some aloud. He told you which ones he wrote before he read them and at the end of each one you dropped his hand and clapped lightly to the wonderful words.

When you finished re-painting each nail, he wrapped up the poem he was reading and gently put the book back on the side table. The room was rather bright, and considering brightness keeps dark shadow in line, you didn’t bat an eye the first time you came in his room. White walls some pastel stuff and of course, a lot of black.

You sat up excitedly and patted your lap, he turned suddenly and flopped down onto your thighs. “Where’s dark shadow? I’ve barely seen them today.”

“They usually calm down when you’re around so I’m not sure where they are.” That was his last full sentence before he melted into a chirping mess. He coo’ed and shrilled gently and it made your heart soar.

While one hand pet your boyfriend you took a picture of him to send to Kaminari who would most likely laugh. You hugged Tokoyami when he said it was time for bed and kissed his beak which in return, nuzzled your face gently.

You slept soundly that night. Something watching you protectively from the shadows.

When you woke in the morning, a package was on your desk, brown paper packaging tied with white string, in the bow of the string was a dried rose. You knew it was from your lovely boyfriend before you had to open it, he always gave you dried roses to keep or do as you please with it. You smiled and untied the ribbon, the box opened suddenly to reveal pictures on every wall of the box. One of you and him at the beach, he looked very bashful in his swim-trunks and sunburned shoulders, one of you both cuddled on the couch with the fireplace, that was taken at his parents house it must’ve been taken by his mom because his dad was in the background and you and Tokoyami were dead asleep. There were countless others that made your face break into a smile, Tokoyami was a hopeless romantic.

“Do you like it?” You jumped a bit when Dark Shadow’s voice spooked you.

“Yes I do. Where were you yesterday?” You asked incredulously.

“I was making this for Tokoyami. It took forever by the way.” You smiled at your boyfriend’s quirk.

“Were you watching me last night? I felt weird.” They nodded quickly.

“We want to keep you safe.”

“That’s fine, just tell me next time you’re going to do something like that.”

A knock on your door had you turning your head, and you watched as Dark Shadow slunk under it.

“Hi!” You hugged your boyfriend when the door opened.

“Hello, love. Did you like the gift we made?” You pulled Tokoyami onto your bed and hugged him excitedly.

“Yes! Thank you.”

#anime #mha drabbles #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha tokoyami #tokoyami x you #tokoyami x reader #reader has adhd #mha kaminari #I got up at six for a run. be proud of me #I exercised #I’m drinking water!!! #hopefully this will continue

[basicallyahedgehog]

As Trees Grow, So Does My Love

Just a bit of fluff that I wrote for the Dumbledore’s Armada Rare Pair Roulette Flash Fest. Prompts: Neville/Hannah, “Neville and Hannah having a picnic under a fruit tree.”

After the war, Neville seeks to bring peace and colour back into the wizarding world. What he didn't expect, however, was that as he tended his plants he would find his own patch of peace with an old schoolmate.

Read on AO3

--------

The war was over, and he knew he should be grateful that he was still alive, that so many of his loved ones were still alive. He knew that, yet all he could see was death and decay. Everywhere he went in the wizarding world felt dead, plants ripped up and walls left crumbling by a devastating mixture of battle and abandonment. 

Hogwarts was the worst of course, and naturally most efforts went there. Fixing up Hogsmede was a natural flow-on effect from the efforts at Hogwarts, and he soon felt an irrational jealousy towards those students who would be returning in the Fall. They would return to new stone, and well-polished desks and freshly-planted gardens full of plants that had been picked for their medicinal and relaxing qualities. Honeydukes was preparing to reopen, as was the Three Broomsticks, and soon all would be normal again in this tiny pocket oasis hidden within the Scottish mountains. For the rest of the wizarding world, however, was still grey with dust and ashes, infused with a chill that even the brightest rays of the summer sun were unable to chase away.

Standing at the top of Diagon Alley, taking in the boarded-up windows and bowed heads of weary shoppers, he decided to do something about it.

-----

Neville marched purposefully down Diagon Alley, pockets laden with shrunken supplies for his latest project. It had taken some persuading, but being a war hero with a personal connection to the Minister had paid dividends, and he had been given his own patch of Diagon to do whatever he wanted with. 

The corner below Gringotts had been grey and cold, home to nothing more than a stone fountain and a vast slab of concrete. It was large enough to house at least two storefronts, and Neville had known that it would only have been a matter of time before the Alley’s last vestige of open space was built on by entrepreneurs wanting to take advantage of the low post-war property prices. He had also heard rumblings of a Chosen One statue to replace the weatherbeaten fountain, and whilst the idea was amusing, he knew that he had to put a stop to it if he wanted to avoid a lifetime of Harry’s whinging on pub night.

Which is why he was walking towards a no-longer concreted patch of dirt, armed with a shovel, some edging and his sketch pad, ready to make a plan for the best park the wizarding world had ever seen. He wanted to create a little patch of happiness in a world that had been so filled with fear and sorrow. After the war, everyone needed some extra fresh air and bright flowers in their lives, or at least that was his theory.

Neville didn’t know how long he had been sitting in the middle of his dirt patch, drawing plans for hedges and sitting areas and play spaces, but he did notice when the heat of the sun was suddenly blocked. He didn’t have time to wonder who it could be before they lowered themselves to the ground, picnic basket in hand.

“Sandwich, Neville?” Hannah pulled a plate piled high with sandwiches out of her basket, as if that was a normal thing to do on a dirt block at the bottom of Diagon Alley. “I recall you enjoying corned beef and cheese, but I have others if I’m wrong.”

Neville looked at her, bemused, before taking a sandwich off the pile. “Thanks, Hannah. That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s nothing. I noticed during the Hogwarts rebuilding that you get lost in your projects and forget to eat. You’re doing such an amazing thing for the Alley, the least I can do is make sure you eat regularly.”

He couldn’t explain the warm feeling currently building in his chest, or the heat in his face, but Neville knew that he had never felt like this about food before. 

He wanted to feel it again.

“Neville, can I make a request for your park?”

Neville looked up, a smile forming on his face without conscious thought as he saw Hannah approaching with her basket. 

“That depends on the contents of that basket,” he called back, smirking when her expression shifted to mock offence. 

“Ah, I see. I had thought you’d been enjoying my company this week, but it is just the food!” 

“The food is just a bonus. The company is my favourite part.” Why was he blushing? Would she notice him blushing?

Neville conjured a picnic blanket, placing it under a half-grown oak tree he had planted in the corner. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

Oh, she would definitely notice the blush.

“Well, Tom has given me permission to update the menu at the Leaky, and I thought it would be nice to have more fresh ingredients available. Do you think you would have room for a vegetable patch? Maybe some herbs too?” 

Neville couldn’t help but smile at the way Hannah’s eyes had lit up as she spoke, as though this vegetable patch was the most exciting thing that could ever happen. 

“I think that is the best idea I have ever heard. We could have a veggie patch over there, accessed on all sides. Then herbs along that back wall, and would you like some fruit trees in that corner?”

“Oh, Neville, that would be wonderful!”

He looked down at his lap, marvelling at the small, burn-marked hand that had just grabbed his. If it kept her hand in his, he would give her all the fruit and vegetables that she could ever dream of.

------

The bell over the door of the Leaky clanged loudly as he stepped inside, allowing the warmth from the fireplace to ease the chill in his fingertips. As he unwrapped his scarf his eyes raked the room, looking for one person in particular. His first term at Hogwarts had been busier than he expected, and Merlin he had missed her.

He wasn’t even sure if she was his to miss.

“If you’re looking for the young lass, she’s down in the Square.” The old man placed his hand on Neville’s shoulder, subtly turning him in the direction of the Alley. “I heard her say something about checking on the fruit trees on account of the snow.”

Hastily rewrapping his scarf around his neck, Neville threw a breathless “thank you!” over his shoulder, darting out the back door and down through the Alley. No one should be out in this weather, fruit trees or no fruit trees.

“Hannah!” He could barely make her out through the flurries, and didn’t know if she would hear him over the wind. “Hannah, why are you out here?”

“Oh, Neville! You had mentioned that the trees might need protective charms before the snow, and then it started snowing and I couldn’t bear the thought of them out here in the cold all alone, and you’ve been so busy I didn’t expect you to make it back this weekend and-”

Her lips were biting cold and chapped from the wind, but she tasted sweet and her hands around his waist anchored him in a way that nothing ever had before. 

“Come inside, you’ll catch your death of a cold out here.” He was already tugging her towards the Leaky, her small hand tucked protectively in the crook of his elbow. “Thank you, Hannah. You might have just saved those trees.”

The look in her eyes told him that she hadn’t just done it for the trees. 

-------

Neville,

The trees came through the storm ok. Do I need to renew those charms, or will they last until the end of winter?

Hannah,

P.S. I really enjoyed seeing you last night. 

Neville,

The fruit trees have their first leaves back! I feel like a proud Mama. Is this how you feel about all of your plants?

Good luck with your first solo class tomorrow. You’re going to be amazing.

Yours,

Hannah

P.S. Hogsmeade on Saturday?

Neville,

Please find enclosed our first apple blossom. Only two years — I am convinced that you are using some kind of magic to help them grow.

You should see the Square, Nev. It’s even prettier this year than last year. I wish you were here to enjoy it more, it is truly a wonderful thing that you did for our community.

Your Hannah

-------

Neville placed the box on the living room floor, wiping his palms on his jeans. 

“That’s the last one, Han. How does it feel to be the official Landlady of the Leaky Cauldron?”

“It doesn’t feel real.” She bit her lip, fiddling with the hem of her shirt with her fingers. He folded them into his own, turning her face to look her in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re going to be amazing. You’ve been practically running this place for years.” 

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so.”

He kissed her softly, trying to convey how proud he was through the simple gesture. 

Later, as he was unpacking her books into the bookshelf, he heard a small gasp. 

“Nev, look! You can see our trees from here!”

He bought the ring that afternoon.

--------

Han,

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Meet me under our trees at 3pm.

Your Nev

----

Neville paced back and forth under the apple tree. What had he been thinking? They had barely discussed this, what if she said no? What if- 

His spiralling thoughts were interrupted by the brightest smile and softest eyes that he had ever seen. She spread the picnic rug out under the tree, pulling all of his favourite food out of her basket. He hadn’t even mentioned his idea of a picnic, but somehow she already knew.

Suddenly, the box didn’t feel like it would combust in his pocket, and all of his doubts fell away.

That seemed like a good place to start.

“Han, when I am with you I feel like anything is possible. You believe in me even when I can’t believe in myself, but more than that, you have shown me how to believe in myself even when you aren’t there. You have the biggest heart of any person that I have ever met, and I pinch myself each morning to think that you have entrusted me with it. Five years ago, I just wanted to give the Alley some colour and peace, and instead I found love.”

He took a deep breath, grounding himself in her eyes, before sinking to one knee.

“Han, will you marry me?”

The words had barely left his mouth before Hannah flung herself into his arms, sobbing and pressing kisses all over his face.

“Yes,” she whispered, cradling his face in her hands. “Of course, Nev, yes.” 

#harry potter fanfiction #neville x hannah #neville longbottom #hannah abbott #fluff #falling in love

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

        “could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

#ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #reader insert #readerinsert #creepypasta fanfic #masky #masky x hoodie #masky x reader #hoodie #hoodie x reader #timothy wright #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #A cure for insomnia

[lobakmerahs]

One: Painting and Its Secrets

Summary: This series is about Levi’s slow burn relationship with the reader who is not only a squad leader but a spy who works under Scouts Regiment.

Warning: mentions of death

A/n: I hope you, whoever you are that will read my series will enjoy it as much as I do when I wrote it. Thanks and have a pleasant reading! :)

~ 🎨

3 weeks before...

A blond platinum wig in a pixie cut, button down shirt in beige, a dark brown suspenders, a pair of pants in olive green with a jacket in the same colour. Last but not least a black fedora on top of the head. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, making sure that you looked completely different from the real you at the same time not wanting the disguise you were wearing would catch unnecessary attention. After you were fully satisfied with your look, you took your steps outside your little home.

It was supposedly your off day and you were strolling at the Stohess District and went to buy a newspaper before taking your seat at an empty bench while facing the river. After a few moments had passed, you glanced at your watch and stood up to head to your destination. 

Hans Art Gallery. You were on time when you stood in front of the art shop as the business was just begun and you were the first one to enter. 

“Good morning and welcome to Hans Art Gallery. Is there anything that I can help you, Mrs?,” the gentleman asked. 

“A bouquet of tulips for the man with the black shoes.” You answered to the gentleman who was not wearing a pair of black shoes but upon hearing your sentence and clearly understood your code, he went to the back of the gallery before returned to you and handed the canvas piece that was neatly wrapped with an oil paper. 

You calmly walked to your home and naturally looked around you to make sure no one was tailing before you entered your house and produced a soft click sound as you locked the wooden door behind you. You didn’t go straight to your room, instead you climbed to the attic and yet again locked the door. Slowly you unwrapped the frame and brought out your forceps as well as your scalpels, no need to ask how did you get those. The canvas held a drawing of an evening sky which was rich with every shades of orange colour capturing the beauty of the sunset, it seemed like it could bring calmness to whoever that laid their eyes on it, but what people didn’t know, didn’t have to know as well as didn’t have the right to know was what lied beneath the drawing. Yes, the drawing was undeniably beautiful, it was made by none other than one of your assets in the Wall Sina that disguised as an art dealer among the nobles. The said asset had planted a few layers of documents under his drawing which was the main reason you were about to form a surgery on the work of art. Meticulously, you ran your scalpel on the border of the drawing, next you brushed your thumb along the already cut borders to make the edges curled upwards then you used your forceps to peal the drawing away, revealing layers of papers which were believed to be the documents that were hidden beneath it. 

“Hmmh.. hmmm~ yare yare, found ya’.” You whispered to yourself and smiled in relief, taking out the pieces of papers and gave it a read. 

The documents contained the Military Police reports of Nicholas Lovof’s crimes that included bribery, kidnapping, murders and any other atrocities that were enough to put someone under justified punishments. Not only that, the documents also included a detailed descriptions as well as names of the people that were in charge to kill Erwin Smith, a good colleague of yours, thanks to Nicholos’s manipulations. The said people were; a young red-haired girl styled in pigtails, another young man with a light-brown hair and persumably the oldest one of the pack,a sharp dull blue eyes man with a black hair styled in an uppercut. 

Then, you made a copy of the documents and kept them in a scroll so you could send them to Erwin, where the original copy of them were properly sealed in an envelope for you to send them to none other than Dhalis Zachary.

~🎨

You took a deep breath, inhaling the morning’s crisp while staring at the blue sky. It was always your favorite thing to do, starring at the sky, focusing on the colours that it held. From the wide ranges of blues, to the variety tones of the white from the clouds and sometimes the contrast colours of orange or pink that appears during dusk or dawn. 

After you had enough of your morning pill from the sky, you stepped out of your chamber and was greeted by your best friend, Hange with a raised of both your eyebrows. Both of you did not need much words to greet each other most of the times. You were best friends since your Training Corps years. Morning wasn’t the time for you guys to start acting real with each other. So, both of you walked by each other to the mess hall to get your breakfast then attended the assembly Scout Regiment’s concourse. 

During the morning assembly, you lined up beside Erwin as you were also a Section Commander and had your comrades under your unit to stand in a line behind you. As you were standing, you could see there were 3 people standing beside Commander Keith Sadis, and were introduced to the whole Scout Regiment as the new Scouts. One of them was a girl with red-brown hair tied into two pigtails, named Isabel Magnolia, the other was a man with dark blond hair named Furlan Church and the last one named Levi, a shorter man with black hair styled in an uppercut. All three of them were assigned into Flagon's unit much to his dismay. You glanced at Erwin by your side and he gave you a knowing look. While others found those new Scouts’ names foreign, both of you were exceptional and for a good reason. 

They were surprisingly good during their training, for some people who never had a formal training using the ODM gear, they performed fantastically well but they still needed some polishing for their Titans killing skills, except for Levi. You were always up to offer help to them but they often misunderstood since you usually looked cold and always a bit brutal during your trainings which were a famous fact among the Scout Regiment. Farlan and Isabel often thought that you hated them since they received resentments from severel other Scout cadets and thinking that you were also in the same boat as the other Scouts. Levi was always with his bored expression, you could barely read his expressions let alone his thoughts, unlike the other two. There was a time where Isabel blurted about why you insisted to help training them when you seemed to dislike them.

“It doesn’t matter if I like you guys or not, people train to kill the Titans and to survive. You guys seemed to rush things and hiding something, as if you wanted you to get done with killing Titans then move on to do something else that isn’t Titans related and I’m here trying to help you not to get killed by Titans”, you answered. There was a short silence followed after your answer. You could tell their breaths hitched for a moment but you remained stolid nevertheless.

“Well, we have to move on to do something else as in to focus on the formation right?”, Furlan replied with a hint of nervous. 

“Yeah, let’s hope so.” You answered. 

~🎨

In life, there were a lot of moments where the air would be tense and the night before expedition was one of them. The night was calm and quiet but you couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in your heart. Tonight was just another night inside the wall but to some in the Scout Regiment, it would be their last. Tomorrow’s expedition would surely cost some of your comrades’ lives and might even yours, for the sake of humanity. 

You took a deep breath. But it still didn’t help to calm your nerves. You had been pacing in your room since dinner. You couldn’t stay still, palms were sweaty and heart was beating unsually fast tonight. Something bad was going to happen tomorrow. You could feel it in your guts. You recognized these telltale because whenever you felt like this, you’ll end up receiving death news be it your favorite neighbour from your hometown, your beloved pets or even the Scouts that you had helped in training. Deciding that sitting in your room wouldn’t help lessen the nerves, you grabbed your pencils and sketch papers then headed outside to gaze at the starry night sky to do some sketches in hope of easing your mind. 

As you arrived at you usual spot at tower of the Scout Regiment barracks, you slumped down and took a glance at the sky. The moon hadn’t shown itself yet, and there were thick clouds hanging everywhere. Then, you stared at your paper and pencil. Blank. No idea. No inspiration. Stuck. You sighed, and continued to stare at the night sky hoping to relax your mind for awhile. Then, you heard the sound of clicking boots which meant that there were people not far from you. It was Furlan and Isabel whom just arrived, they walked to a figure that you assumed to be Levi. You remained quiet and peeped them from your location. You could heard Isabel and Furlan trying to convince Levi about them joining tomorrow’s expedition. As you were eavesdropping not that you planned to in the first place, suddenly your hand started to sketch the paper, starting with the clouds and adding the diamonds in the sky, slowly without you realizing it, you were sketching the trio starring at the starry night sky under the moonlight that shone magnificiently. 

When you were done with the sketching, you returned to your room as quietly as possible and continued to add colours to your drawing before you got sleepy and finally free from your anxious feeling earlier. Before you headed to your bed, you jotted down the date behind your work which now known as painting, no longer just a sketch.

_

During the expedition, you and your squad were put around the right flank of the long range formation. There were few Titans appeared throughout the journey, none that your squad could handle. You were beyond grateful that all of your squad were still well and alive at the moment. Then, you received a signal to tighten the formation since the sky started to show sign that it would rain soon and a heavy one at that. You commanded your squad to pull on the hood of their capes and stayed as close as possible with you and each other so that no one would go unnoticed and it would be easier to assist if anything happen.

Despite the heavy downpour, your squad kept moving forward and you efficiently assisted your squad in killing any Titan that came in the way, it was always your promise to make sure everyone under you would return to the wall safe and alive. Then, suddenly you heard a weird noise coming from in front of you, not the usual strange noise that a Titan would make.A load, short but multiple groan as if a Titan was in pain. So, you rushed to the direction of the sound assuming that there might a cadet or a squad that needed your assistance. 

You arrived at the same time as Erwin’s and some other squad leaders, surrounded by an Abnormal Titan’s and plenty of your other comrades’ corpses. Then, you noticed Levi standing next to the Titan’s dead body with blood all over him and Isabel’s head in front of him with half of Furlan’s body not far from him as well. Levi seemed to be the only one survived from his squad. His head hanging slightly low, with his hair covering his eyes but the tears streaming down his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. So, this explained the sweaty palm and racing heart you had another night- to see two cadets that you helped with training days ago, only now left with just just head and half of a body. You felt your shoulder fell and knees slightly shaking. You felt like your breath had been taken away.

As the rain started to stop slowly as the sunshine gently peeking from the clouds, you watched how Levi was about to kill Erwin which was stopped by Mike then Erwin explained about the Nicholos Lovof's situation causing Levi to stop his actions and stood silently, digesting the fact that he was caught up in Erwin’s plans. 

You did feel bad for Levi, Erwin wasn’t the only who knew about him and his friends’ true intention of joining the Scout Regiment. You knew about it too. It was your assignment to obtain the information about Nicholos Lofov’s crimes and sent it to Erwin as well as finding out the person who was assigned to supposedly kill Erwin. It was just a simple guess as to why those three didn’t refuse so much on joining he Scout Regiment when Erwin offered them to.

You were assigned with that task since you were not only a Section Commander but also a spy under the Scout Regiment as well as the cadets under your wings and some were also assets scattered across the town in disguise as an art dealer in Wall Sina, a commoner who opened a bakery shop or could be anyone in the town that simply invisible to the world but not to you. You needed to sniff around to obtain crucial informations that could contribute to the Scout Regiment strategies, formation and as well as humanity. 

~🎨

The barracks became quieter after the expedition ended which was normal due to the lost of lives. You were at your room that night, just checking your report before you could submit them to Erwin the next morning and decided to write some notes in your book. You opened your drawer and saw the painting that you made before the expedition took place. Levi, Isabel and Furlan staring at the sky. Two of the were smiling in admiration to the sky while Levi just being Levi, stoic as ever except his eyes where they were packed with ......hope. 

You suddenly felt drenched and decided to go for a glass of water at the kitchen before you headed to sleep. You inserted the sketching into your notebook and brought them with you to the kitchen, it just came across your mind to let Levi had it since you remembered how shattered he looked when he was kneeling in front of Isabel's head. The kitchen was empty when you arrived so you went to grab a cup and filled it with water.

As you took a sip of water from your glass, you saw Levi entering the same room as yours. Both of you were startled for a second yet no words left your mouths before he proceeded to make himself a tea and you with your drink. The room was filled with silence but not an uncomfortable one, at least for you. That was when it slipped your mind that you wanted to give the drawing to Levi. Only if he would accept your drawing. You thought he might wanted it since that drawing was an evidence of a sweet memory that his two friends left him during their short time in the Scout Regiment. Probably something for him to look at when he felt lonely. He was stirring his teaspoon with his back facing you when you called his name. Probably the first time having you calling his name. Probably the first time you would ever interact with him ever since he joined the regiment.

“.....um..Levi,” you called. That’s when your heart skipped a beat. And you felt a bit....just a bit nervous to see him reacting to you. Then, he turned around and faced you, intense dull blue eyes focusing on your eyes, expecting you to continue. You gulped. Man, was his gaze always this tense? You never noticed that before for sure.

“I was at the tower the night before the exhibition, with my sketching utensils because I needed to calm my nerves. Then suddenly you guys came and I made something. I didn’t plan doing it, I just went with the ideas flowing in my head,” you stopped and brought out your painting to his attention. He stayed focus listening to you and eyes never left your face before he took the drawing and examined it. You couldn’t say he was amused but his gaze did soften a little. 

“I’m sorry I draw the three of you without your permission.I know I should have asked your consent. And um, you could keep that...... If you want though,” you continued. You felt quite nervous not because you were scared of him, shy probably but not scared. You were nervous because one, you wished your drawing didn’t remind him of his late friends in a bad way and caused him more sadness, two, you didn’t want him to get mad at you for drawing him without his permission and three, um...what if your drawing looked like a toddler’s work? That would suck.

“It’s nice,” Levi finally spoke. His deep monotone voice comforted your ears. You breathed out a relief. 

“I want to keep it,” Levi said, hand still holding your drawing, eyes travelling back to yours with a softer gaze and as if asking for your permission. 

You nodded, “sure, make it yours, I do hope it’ll help you feel better, if that's even possible”, you replied with a soft chuckle as you slowly stood and got ready to head back to your room.

You saw Levi took a glance at the drawing then looked at you again before he replied you with, “thanks, I’ll treasure it.”

You flashed a small smile before yawning and took off to your room to get your sleep. Feeling light and at ease, knowing your drawing could help lift up someone’s mood.

Little did you know that, back in his chamber, Levi stared at your painting. He indulged himself into the painting that you made, every drop of colour as well as every line and traces left on the paper by you, realized how he missed watching his lost friends’ smiles and thanks to you, he could see his friends’ smiles once again eventhough it was just on a piece of a paper. Not to mention, he finally got to interact with you. You striked a mysterious aura when you first appeared before his eyes which intrigued him to get to know you, yet he never had a chance or a reason to talk to you but you were always there somewhere in the back of his mind. He was utterly grateful with the drawing you made, at least he could carve the smiles of his friends into his mind, their smiles might no longer exist in this world but it would always be in his heart and mind. 

                                              Next chapter

#levi ackermann #levi ackermann x reader #levi x reader #levi ackermann imagines #levi ackermann fic #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot imagines #levi aot #aot fanfic #levi ackermann fanfic #attack on titan #attack on titan fic #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #Furlan Church #Isabel Magnolia #hange zöe #Erwin Smith #erwin smith

[patternprodigy]

Good Grief

The doctor said the tiny hole in Kane’s newborn heart would heal on its own. He then advised us to go home and enjoy being a family.  

16 months and 16 days later, Kane died.

His short life was a story of slow suffocation and sleepless nights for a little warrior who never stopped smiling. Every operation, every needle, every test, Kane kept smiling. They cut his tiny chest open over and over and again, and he simply would not stop smiling.  

Tied to machines with tubes and wires, he kept on filling the room with his glow anyway. It was as if he knew it would be a short ride, so no use in complaining.

When Kane died, my past and future dissolved. Like a nuclear bomb exploding in my soul.  

I went to therapy; it helped a bit. The anti-depressants just numbed me out. Prayer and meditation, yoga and exercise, working 7 days a week, letting time pass... nothing seemed to work.  

Enough with the pity party. Grief is a journey that must ultimately be traversed alone. I realized if I were to stay vertical, I would need to recreate meaning where there was none. 

How to begin again?

I decided to dedicate the rest of my life to making something beautiful to honor him. Something to reflect his purity. Something to make people smile like he made everyone who met him smile. 

I began reading books on sacred geometry and studying the mathematical principles found in nature, because the beauty of nature is the only thing that can compare. Chaos and patterns. Pi and square roots. The golden ratio and repeating fractals.  

I learned how to work with a compass. Basic stuff: circles and squares and triangles and polygons. 

The simple process of drawing shapes with a compass quickly became trance-inducing and therapeutic. A long-faced middle-aged man with a sketch pad and a pencil at the local coffee shop, sadness chased by a child-like wonder of discovery. Time transcended with a pencil and paper.

Eventually I graduated to making three dimensional shapes like tetrahedrons and octahedrons and dodecahedrons. I then taught myself to do the same on a computer. Soon I was able to recreate any polyhedron from memory. Regular and isogonal, noble and uniform, dual and stellated.  

Spontaneously, i.e., accidentally, I invented a mathematical method of making three-dimensional surface patterns. Finally, something I could hang my hat on.

To bring my patterns to life I bought a 3D printer and learned how to make molds. I began experimenting with different materials and spent the first 6 months of the pandemic making shiny copper tiles. I was even commissioned to create a wall of 108 tiles for a yoga studio.

But cold cast copper is not a cooperative or forgiving material to work with, and that wall took me 3 months to complete. Knowing in short order I did not want to spend the rest of my life standing in front of a loud buffing machine, I began looking for another avenue.

Late one night while polishing one of the last tiles in that wall, the thought occurred to make sculpted chocolate bars instead. Yes, I was hungry. Yes, it was a ludicrous thought. Yes, these patterns are beautiful. And yes, chocolate is sweet.  

Beautiful and sweet, just like Kane. 

I can’t bring him back, but I can remember him in everything I do. I imagine he’s somewhere smiling at the silliness of it all. I imagine him saying: “Dad, you’re ridiculous. Oh, and I love your chocolate patterns!”

And I pray he knows it’s all for him.

#archimedeschocolates chocolatepatterns patternprodigy

[fandomsilhouette]

to be seen

There are so many hopes that exist in one heart, so many expectations that pull them apart, so many people they’re desperate to be, so many voices they’ll never flee. They’re shrouded in secrets they can’t quite explain, but if there’s a person where they can abstain, avoid the disdain, inane, insane, and find a way to be human again, then they’ll take it with both hands outstretched, and hold on before they find themselves wrecked. 

Happy @felinettenovember, y’all! This was supposed to be an easy prompt, some dumb lighthearted joke at Felix’s expense, but I can never be that simple, and when I asked @musicfren to help me brainstorm, we had the terrible wonderful idea to write companion pieces. So! You can read what Felix is thinking here, and fall in love with his very wonderful writing as you do. 

Showcase night is finally here. Marinette’s fingers dig into the fabric she was pinning around her mannequins before she remembers that there’s no time to iron out any wrinkles. Luckily, the final pieces were sewed and on the models already, no pinning required, but Marinette had opted to show off stages of the design progress by pinning half-completed scraps of fabric on mannequins: a choice she would be sorely regretting if she weren’t so excited.

She’s prepared, of course, she’s been scarcely able to think about anything else for the last month.

Marinette’s parents will see her project for the first time tonight, despite how relentlessly they’ve attempted to wheedle clues out of her for as long as they’ve known about it-- which is about as long as the concept has existed. But she’s been insistent not to spill a single secret about it, wanting it to be unapologetically, undeniably her own, all the way through, every missed stitch and tangled thread and crumpled up note tossed at the trash can late at night showing in the final outfits.

She finishes the final touches on her poster board, checks that her models are ready in place, shuffles her flashcards into order one more time. Everyone else around her seems relaxed, chattering excitedly, flitting from station to station in an eager buzz; Marinette is overwhelmed by the motion and the optimism of it. Her gaze flicks from person to person, moving away faster than it can catch on anything until--

Felix looks pale, nearly translucent halfway under the stage lights, still half in shadow as he steps up onto the platform to perform. He meets her gaze and it holds, but it’s vacant and glazed, almost as if he’s not seeing her at all, even looking right at her. And knowing that someone is just as anxious, maybe more, than she is makes Marinette feel… alright. There is so much of herself in this presentation, more than anyone will ever know. It matters. It’s going to be okay.

Marinette only hopes her presentation won’t sound like pouring ketchup from a bottle: timid at first, then gushing out faster than she can control it, too much to be palatable or interesting, spilling over her plate and dripping onto her shoes with her tears.

Then the parents flood into the room, and chaos ensues.

The presentations go better than she expected: a lot of people flock to her stall, lured by the motion and the flash of fabric in a room full of the fantastic; Marinette suspects it’s the traditional familiarity of the Parisian civilian wrapped up in the novel familiarity of the heroes of Paris that draws their attention. Her parents ooh and ahh, gush over all the right parts and ask her enough questions that she doesn’t worry that her point won’t be made.

“I wanted to remember that the heroes of our city are people too: that for all that they pretend to be larger than life, magical beyond belief-- miraculous, one might say,” she tosses out a wink to laughter that delights her, even if some of it comes with a deadpan look, “they are not pretentious. They are people, and they are people who deserve respect, compassion, empathy… privacy and support, where we can manage it.”

The small crowd around her table is silent for a moment that stretches too long, and anxiety drips and dribbles into the spaces their silence leaves behind. Their gazes settle heavy on her shoulders and her blush heats up her cheeks like a blood-red mask she’s too comfortable wearing. Has she finally managed to be seen, under all of the pretense? Will they manage to care?

Then Tom sweeps her up in a hug, tossing her into the air, and it takes her and Sabine’s combined strength to bring her back down, to remind him she still has the rest of the evening to keep presenting. Marinette talks, and glows, and shares and explains and laments all of the things Ladybug wishes she could say and doesn’t, and doesn’t stop for a second.

She doesn’t stop, except to listen to Felix. The auditorium has had music drifting in the background all night, between Nino DJing and Kitty Section, and a handful of other students on various instruments, but it’s Felix’s melody she cuts herself off mid-sentence for.

It’s the presentation she’s been waiting all night, and when his fingers lift from the strings, the last note still echoing around the room, she feels gutted.

The rest of her presentations go on without a hitch, but she’s a little quieter now, gestures a little less broadly. Something of the spark is missing, and she’s just glad her parents have moved on to celebrate the other students’ presentations instead of sticking around long enough to notice. Finally, finally the day is over, and Marinette knew she’d be looking forward to this moment, exhausted and exhilarated, but she didn’t think she would meet it like this.

She wraps up her presentation one last time, and the crowd thins, drifting off to help their children clear up their stations or pick off the last remaining crumbs from the snack bar. Marinette’s own parents are nowhere to be seen, so she turns and starts unpinning the mannequins herself.

“How quaint of you.”

Felix’s voice is chilled as he leans his hip against her already-wobbly table. Marinette worries for a moment about it spilling over and then decides she doesn’t care.

“Thank you,” she accepts, knowing full well it isn’t a compliment. “I liked yours a lot, Felix.”

“No, you didn’t.” She doesn’t have to turn to hear the sneer in his voice. “You have no appreciation for true art. You think this,” he gestures wildly at her half un-pinned mannequins, the models drifting away, “is art? This is derivative. This is… this is nothing more than a false pretense of an understanding you don’t have in a failed effort to curry favor with someone who is never going to notice you.”

“I liked the way your composition sounded in the rehearsal room,” Marinette cuts in quietly, tiredly, so hurt she can’t resist, too hurt to resist.

“What.”

“I’ve spent most of class time sitting outside the rehearsal room you always choose-- you’re very predictable, Felix-- and sketching there. That’s what my designs are based on: that mournful, hopeful, determined, resigned haunting tune that you practiced day by painstaking day. That’s how I imagine the heroes feel. I can understand how you’d know that. I do too.” Marinette thinks about the way his presentation today was so polished, the way it reverberated around the room, every note rich and mellow-- but it felt so hollow.

Hearing it today has torn out the very heart of what she had built her designs around.

“I wish you had played it like that today.”

Felix moves forward, drags a finger down fabric that seems a little softer, a little more somber. He looks at her, a sidelong glance that goes too long, and doesn’t respond until he looks away.

“I wish you would’ve worn these yourself.”

#Notte Writes #Notte Collabs #Fanfiction #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #ML #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous: Adventures Of Ladybug And Chat Noir #Felix #PV Felix #Felix Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Felix/Marinette #Felinette #Logistical Nightmare Showcase #Insults As A Front For Hurt #Kindness As A Front For Pain #Fluff #Felinette Month 2020 Day 16 #Felinette Month 2020

[3pirouette]

Fic: Roughing It

Title: Roughing It By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 1601 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: This was no place for the love of his life.

Satisfies the “moonlight” square on my Steggy Bingo, also for a tumblr prompt “I wish you would write a fic where Peggy and Steve are both Cap in modern times (or 40s)” Set Post Civil War

A/N: Totally 100% inspired by Outlander quote from season 1

~*~ Inspired by the following Outlander quote:

Murtagh: I’ll saddle the horses; you take hold of Claire. We’ll be away from here this very night.   Jamie: And how would we live? Horrocks was my best chance, now I may be an outlaw for good. Murtagh: We’ll live off the land. Or has castle life made ye soft? Jamie: Would ye have me sleeping under a tree, come winter, with my wife?

~*~

This was no place for the love of his life.

It was dirty, and rat infested, but they were down to their last few dollars and until they managed to figure out how, exactly they were going to make money and stay off the US radar, it was all they had.

That, and each other.

He watched her from the flimsy folding chair across the room, eyes glued tight to how she carefully brushed out her hair, how she rolled and set it with strips of fabric from a face cloth she’d cut up. The artist in him wished he had a book to sketch in or a phone to take a picture. The moonlight flooded around her, bathing her in a silver glow as her fingers separated out the long, wet strands of hair and deftly rolled them up and tied them tight.

He could draw her for hours the way the moonlight settled on her, making her look like a goddess made of platinum, strong and soft, beautiful and tender… It was a familiar look, but he never tired of it. Even in just his oversized shirt, she was beautiful to look at.

They kept the lights off in the small studio apartment as soon as the sun went down, and it reminded him more than he wanted to say of those days back in London when they’d hear the sirens and turn off all the lights and just wait for the moment something exploded around them.

He felt like he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to explode figuratively or literally, and it kept his heart pounding in his chest.

They had a little, thanks to T’Challa and Shuri and a quick, undetectable wire. Peggy had been squirreling away money in a little hidden account she called her ‘rainy day fund’ and had always just smiled and winked and said “Once a spy, always a spy,” when he asked why she’d been putting the money away.

Steve was thankful for those few thousands they were able to get and split up between the group of them. It wasn’t like they’d actually thought about anything besides doing the right thing in the heat of it. They certainly hadn’t thought about bringing silly things with them like ID and bank cards or thought about how to survive while on the run. It was enough to get started, and enough to get by- especially if they were careful.

They’d split the money and gone their separate ways, planning to meet up in a few months. He’d been nervous, separating, but knew that out of all of them, he and Peggy would be the easiest to spot and the hardest to hide. They were giving Sam, Natasha, and Wanda a shot at relative anonymity. He and Peggy would get by… they always had.

He hadn’t minded sleeping rough during the war, but this wasn’t exactly the same. On the run, hiding in abandoned buildings and sneaking into empty hotel rooms was necessary but harsh. Holding her close at night while her teeth chattered made him want to scream. But she always smiled up at him in the morning, ready for wherever the day might take them.

The little apartment they’d finally landed in wasn’t much, barely more than enough room for the old mattress on its rusted springs and a half kitchenette with a stove that didn’t always work and a sink in the bathroom that dripped endlessly. It might have been less than ideal, but the landlord took cash and didn’t ask any questions.

“I can feel you watching me,” she murmured, rolling up her last curl and tying the ends of the piece of rag tightly. She smiled up at him. “You’re thinking so hard you’re going to give me a headache.”

He gave her a half smile and shifted back in his chair, not at all embarrassed that he’d been caught.

Peggy stood, moving in and out of the shafts of moonlight like a mythical creature until she straddled him, sitting back on his knees. Steve settled his hands at her hips, fingering the threadbare cotton of the undershirt, thinking that she looked like a dangerous Medusa with the rags in her hair to set her curls. He looked her over, his fingers moving with his gaze, thinking of the softness under them, thinking of the power under them, and how he’d been lucky enough to see both.

Peggy tired of the toying after a minute and took both his hands in hers, sighing. “You’re swimming in the melancholy again, my darling.” She kissed his knuckles and held his hands tight. She waited a breath as he looked at her, but finally could take the quiet no more. “Talk to me, Steve.”

He almost laughed at her earnestness. He shook his hand and wrapped his arms around her, wanting to fold into her as he held on tight, wanting to fall within her and forget all of this was happening. He buried his face in her neck, breathing the scent of her sun kissed skin in as she wrapped her arms around him, fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp.

Her nails weren’t red anymore. They couldn’t afford the time, money, or the visibility, to go looking for something as frivolous as nail polish.

At least, that’s what she told him when he mentioned it one night.

He owed her something, at least, if he couldn’t give her cozy beds and proper curlers and bright nail polish. Words. He held her tighter for a moment before lifting his head. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

His words were soft and gentle, but the meaning was sharp and harsh. He knew neither of them had wanted this, had wanted any of it from the moments when he held her close, tucked under his shield tight as the Valkyrie dove from the sky, splashing down in the cold water beneath them.

She waited, face open and unjudging, for him to continue.

He shook his head and kissed her forehead, still trying to turn the jumble of feelings into sentences. “You deserve—”

Peggy pressed her finger to his lips, stilling them. “Now don’t you go on with all of that ‘what if’ and ‘should be’ nonsense again.” She shifted, taking his face in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. “Neither of us could have imagined that this is where we’d end up. But we’ve both always stood up for what we’ve believed in, no matter how difficult, and that has brought us here.” Peggy leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently.

Steve closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her lips on his head, before taking her hands in his, lifting them from his cheeks, and kissing each in turn. “This place, Peg…”

She smiled softly. “Would it have been all that different after the war? A little apartment in Brooklyn on a soldier’s pay while we try to decide what’s next? Pipes that rattle and rickety furniture and you and me against the world?” She kissed his lips this time, soft and sure.

“A house,” he whispered as he chased her lips for another kiss. “With a yard and a porch and a—”

Peggy kissed him quiet before leaning back, serious. “We’ll never know.” She shook her head and ran her fingers through the scruff on his cheeks that was slowly turning into a full beard. “We will never know what might have been. But what I do know…” Tears gathered in her eyes as she looked at him, pushing his growing hair from his forehead. “What I do know is that I’d rather be anywhere, anywhere, with you and a clear conscience, than in some warm fuzzy bed and having sold my soul for something I don’t believe in.”

He squeezed her hands tight, looking away for a moment before finding her eyes again. “And if we never get out of this little shit hole?”

She chuckled at him. “Then it will be our little shit hole.” She stood, pulling him up with her and tugging him towards the bed, pushing him down on it before crawling in next to him. “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow,” Peggy whispered, sliding up against him as he arranged the rough blanket over them. “And I know that that eats at you.”

Steve tugged her tight against him, the moonlight falling on her skin again, making her look like a beauty out of a silent movie. “It would be nice to plan, just for once.”

Peggy settled against his chest, kissing the bare flesh there. “I plan on being with you,” Peggy breathed softly, “today, tomorrow, and however long the two of us have left in this world.” She hummed melodiously, eyes fluttering shut. “Dripping bathroom faucet and all.”

Steve shifted one of her knotted curls over from where it was digging into his shoulder as she relaxed into sleep. He watched her breathing slow, her lips part as she fell deeper away from consciousness, and felt a warmth rise up in him at the thought of holding her, just like this, for the rest of his days.

Tomorrow he’d try to fix that faucet. Then maybe he’d head down to the docks, see if there were any jobs that would trade a day’s wages for a little muscle and heavy lifting. Maybe, if they were going to be here a while, he’d try to make their little shit hole a little less shitty.

For now, Peggy and the moonlight would have to be enough.  

#Steggy Bingo Bash #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic

[svnflowervol666]

Hey!! Could you write an imagine where the reader is an artist and wakes up early, Harry is sleeping next to her and for a few minutes she's there watching him and then decides to draw him while he sleeps and when she's finishing Harry wakes up? Thank you so much ♥️

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of smut

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Like always, if you’re interested, let me know what you’d like for me to write next. Take care and tpwk.

Y/N wasn’t very sure how she’d managed to wake up before Harry considering how hard they partied last night. Her head pounded in her ears and she felt an overwhelming sense of dehydration in her throat. The events of the evening were somewhat blurry after Harry handed her a shot of something wretched and led her immediately to the dancefloor to work up a sweat. She knew judging from the fact that she was stark naked in the bed she shared with Harry and the fact that she could see her dress from the night before shimmering in the sunlight off in the corner of the room haphazardly that they’d at least made love to each other when they got home. Aside from that, her mind was drawing a blank.

Seeing as the blinding light from the harsh, early morning sun made it impossible to go back to sleep, she carefully removed the limp, ringed hand that was draped around her waist and wriggled her way over to her nightstand to grab her phone. Fuck, she thought to herself. Her battery was dead and she couldn’t be arsed to lean all of the way down to the ground to reach for her charger. After lying there for a moment and contemplating how to proceed with the morning, in which she decided she certainly would not be getting out of bed to start the day just yet, she reached a bit further past her phone for the sketchbook and pencil that Harry had gotten her for her birthday last year.

It was almost completely full of her drawings and doodles, something she prided herself in. Often times, she’d lose her sketchbook or spill her coffee on it before she could finish drawing in all of the pages. Maybe it was the fact that Harry had gotten this one for her which meant it was special, or maybe it was just luck, but she’d managed to hold on to this one almost down to the very last page. 

In an attempt to soothe her hangover without getting out of bed, she began drawing away. She started by finishing up the flower she had started the other day after saw the most beautiful bunch of daisies while on her daily walk with Harry. Sure, they were technically an invasive weed that took over greenery like wildfire, but Y/N always thought they were beautiful. 

When she’d perfected that one enough to her liking, she flipped the page and started another drawing. This one was also unfinished, and it was a landscape portrait of the bungalow she shared with Harry while on their vacation to Bora Bora last year. She’d been on many vacations and stayed in many nice houses since that trip, but this bungalow she’d never forget. It was where Harry took her to tell her that he loved her, though she hadn’t known that at the time. They had been having the time of their lives, drinking sugary, alcoholic beverages all throughout the day and lounging lazily by the ocean. Harry finally told her while they watched the sunset on their third night there. It slipped out faster and not as smoothly as Harry had imagined the moment in his head, but the overwhelming, swooning sensation he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Y/N made it impossible for the words to not spew from his lips. She’d never forgotten that trip because it was where she fell significantly more in love with Harry than she already had been.

There wasn’t much that needed to be done on the portrait of the bungalow, just some shading on the roof and a bit more detail on the waves that surrounded the structure. She finished that one fairly quickly then moved on to her next blank page. This one, she fucked up. What she had tried to draw one of her old pets from memory, but for some reason, it wasn’t looking right. She quickly scrapped the piece of paper and moved on to the next page, which was coincidentally the final page in her sketchbook.

She pondered for a moment on what idea in her head would earn the final spot in her book of drawings. She could try to draw her pet again? No, she shook her head softly to herself. Hers and Harry’s favorite table at the coffee shop that was down the block from their London apartment? No, she’d need to get a better look at the place before she attempted something like that. She looked around the now bright and sunny space of their bedroom, trying to find something that would shoot a spark in her brain and cause her to think of the perfect thing to draw. As she turned her head towards the sleeping, seemingly unconscious body that burrowed itself into the gigantic, down comforter beside her, it struck her.

Y/N propped herself up on her side so she could get a better look at the scene in front of her. Harry was sleeping the morning away, though she couldn’t say she blamed him since she didn’t even remember coming home last night (or was it technically this morning?). His face was completely covered by the huge down comforter that he’d hogged from her, but she didn’t mind. All that was visible of Harry was the top of his head, adorned with messy, chocolate-colored waves, and the outstretched palm of his left hand. That was it. His hand.

Her hangover had more or less subsided by now without the need of a greasy diner breakfast or a handful of headache medicine, so she was able to work diligently on her newest and final sketch. She traced over every crease and dip of his long, slender fingers, making sure no detail went unnoticed. Every ring, including the large, gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings on his ring and pinky fingers got their own moment in the spotlight. His bright yellow nail polish, the color that she’d picked out for him last week, was slightly chipped at the corners, but it only added to the uniqueness of the piece. Each knuckle she shaded with the closest attention. Unlike her old pet or the table at the cafe, she was almost certain she could draw this from memory, but a little reinforcement never hurt. Plus, she felt like she could stare at Harry’s hands for days on end without growing tired of them.

Harry’s hands were miracle workers for her. They’d held her through both her darkest and brightest days. They’d made her feel safe in times when she’d never felt so alone, and during big moments when she couldn’t be sad even if she tried. Harry’s hands cooked her breakfast on Sunday mornings, carried her to bed when she’d fallen asleep watching Netflix in the living room, massaged her tired feet after a long day of work, brushed her hair out of her eyes before kissing her goodnight each night, made her see stars as he pleasured her over and over again with his skillful fingers. So many times people overlook what hands do in a relationship, but not Y/N. 

It was right when she was shading the corner of Harry’s cross tattoo that was barely visible from beyond the comforter she felt the bed sheets rustle and the sweet creature beside her come to. The peaceful silence of Y/N doodling away was broken when Harry moved his hand, the one she had been drawing, towards his face to rub harshly at his emerald green eyes.

“Wha’ ‘re you doin awake? ‘ts so early,” she heard his groggy, morning voice pierce the walls of the room.

“It’s almost noon, Harry,” she responded softly, letting the sketchbook fall gently into her lap.

“Oh, shit,” the lanky brunette chuckled, “Wha’ did we do last night?”

“I was actually hoping you could tell me.”

“‘ve got no idea, princess,” Harry groaned before reaching over to pat her thigh, feeling the hard material of her sketchbook instead.

“You drawin’? Lemme see.”

He plucked the open notepad from her lap to examine what she’d been drawing while he was asleep. She didn’t feel embarrassed or like she needed to snatch the book away from him before he could see that she’d been drawing his hands whilst he slept. That was another thing Y/N loved about Harry, how she never felt shy or that she needed to hide her art from him. He always praised her work whenever he crossed paths with it, so she was always willing to share her latest masterpiece.

“M’ hand? You drew my hand while I was asleep?” Harry was still delirious from a combination of his hazy, half-asleep half-awake state.

“I love your hands,” she stated firmly but softly, “plus, it was the last page in my sketchbook so I wanted it to be of something important.”

“Hmm,” Harry pondered as he cased over the drawing once more, “I like this one, but I think I much rather prefer the one you drew of my co-”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Y/N interrupted his sentence and yanked the sketchbook from his grasp before placing it back on its home on the nightstand.

She took her rightful half of the comforter back from Harry and nestled herself back into bed, making sure to cozy right up into Harry’s warm, bare chest so they could have a proper, conscious cuddle before dreadfully starting their day. The two of them were adults now and while they were still granted the privilege of being able to party, they couldn’t stay in bed and waste the day away after a long night of drinking like they used to.

Harry traced soft circles on Y/N’s back with the same hand that she was drawing just minutes ago, almost lulling her back to sleep. He watched as her breathing evened out and her eyes began to droop despite her awareness that they had a late lunch planned with Anne and Gemma in a few hours. 

“Baby,” Harry beckoned her back to consciousness.

Her eyes blinked open quickly, unaware of how she’d almost went right back to sleep in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve got to meet up wi’ mum and Gem soon. ‘Need to get up.”

“Ten more minutes.”

This made Harry chuckle, seeing how she was acting like a grumpy teenager who refused to wake up for school in the morning. God, how he loved her.

“How about I show you just how important my hands are to you and then we hop in the shower, yeah? Sound like a plan?”

She opened one eye just slightly enough to see that Harry was giving her his iconic smirk that caused one of his dimples to shine through. Leave it to Harry to squeeze in a shag before lunch with his own mum.

She supposed she really couldn’t say no to that.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styes imagine #harry styles smut #asks

[unlimitedfateimagines]

With You | Romani Archaman

Ask: Surprised by the lack of Dr. Roman requests - le gasp - So how bout some fluff for the overworked doctor

Sent by: Anon

A/N: waaaaah another rewrite from one of my very very first posts published back in 2017 ;;v;; recently, one of my friends has gotten in fgo and she has a huge huge crush on romani (@eorzean-savage) which i find really cute so i decided to polish up with very old fic (and made it very lengthy in comparison to the original)!! i hope it is to your liking, anon, if you’re still around to see this!!

Romani Archaman sighed, carding his gloved fingers through his strawberry blonde hair. His face was a frustrated one, eyes hurting from the obnoxiously bright light of his computer screen. Notebooks that threatened to fall piled up on both sides of him were filled with notes and events from each Singularity that Chaldea has managed to restore. How many times has he tried to paraphrase and rephrase this sentence for it to make sense and finally satisfy him? He had lost count by the third time already.

With a small lamp emitting an olden yellow light that allowed him to see his messily scribbled notes and arrows from the events of the E Pluribus Unum Singularity, the margins of his pages decorated with cute little doodles of Humanity’s and Chaldea’s last Master, the rest of his room was dark and silent. The occasional grumble from his lips, the typing on his keyboard, the rummaging through his papers as well as the quieted and hushed rants he let out to himself were the only times the peaceful yet almost eerie silence of his room was broken.

“Goodness, I should probably give more of this workload to Da Vinci next time, I’m really about to pull another all-nighter and have (Name) worry about me again,” he mumbled frustratedly. “Not even med school was this bad.”

He very much disliked the fact that he had to make his beloved significant other worry so much when they too had pressing matters to worry about as well as magus training to maintain their fragile circuits to survive through Singularities. He knew the next morning when he would head to the control room after having a very early breakfast, you would have your hands on your hips, scolding him because he has decided to sleep extremely late again, given the dark circles under his eyes and his unruly hair.

“I’m definitely not paid enough for all of this,” he laughed as he flipped through his notes before suddenly stopping at a page with a sketch of you drawn by Leonardo Da Vinci that one time she snagged his notebook to get him out of his working bubble and loosen up a bit when Christmas came along.

With a fond gaze, he took his time admiring your beauty that Da Vinci has perfectly captured. She had drawn you with a gentle smile, perfectly highlighting your cheekbones and jawline and your neck. Romani was never going to say it, but he greatly appreciated this little and sudden gift by his co-worker on Christmas.

A click and the sound of a door sliding open snapped him out of his little trance and he let out a squeal of surprise and closed his notebook shut before looking towards the door to see who was the intruder.

“Roman? You’re still awake?” you asked drowsily.

“Don’t ask me why I’m still awake! Why are you awake? You need to sleep!” he protested softly, standing up from his chair and walking towards the door, noticing you were holding two cups in your hand and he could make out the smell of coffee drifting further into the room.

“You’re telling me to sleep when it’s the dead of the night and you’re still working on your report,” you sighed, looking at his laptop that was clearly open on a document filled up with lines and handing him a cup of coffee. “I thought you might be up typing right now so I made you coffee.”

He sighed out your name in an almost exasperated tone before thanking you and taking his cup of coffee before inviting you to sit on his bed while he went back to his desk and spun around his office chair so that he was facing you.

“The thought is greatly appreciated but why are you up? Did you have a nightmare again?” he gently asked, scooting over and sliding his chair over to you, placing one of his hands reassuringly on your knee.

You laughed. He was always a worrier, not that you minded though. He was the one who treated all of your scars and cuts and gave you biweekly checkups to make sure you’re still in shape and healthy. “I’m fine tonight, Romani. I was just thirsty and needed to use the restroom.”

Romani sighed in relief before taking a sip from his coffee. “Well, if that’s—” “But…” you started shyly, cutting him off. “Is it alright… if I stay in your room tonight? I can’t help but feel like you’re oftentimes lonely during these late hours. And… I would like to watch you work.”

A tint of pink appeared on his face and he was so thankful that the room was very dim, the only light being the lamp and laptop on his desk across the room now. 

“S-Sure! Make yourself comfortable!” he flusteredly stuttered before going back to his desk and he swore he had you giggle and whispered a little “cute” and the bed sheets shuffling as you sat on the bed, back leaning against the white wall.

It felt awkward for the first dozen of minutes as he slowly got used to your presence behind him before he eased down and started working more comfortably. Switching between his notes to his laptop, sometimes taking a sip of his coffee, he enjoyed your calming presence by his side.

To his surprise, time flew by much quicker than he had expected and in a flash, he was almost finished typing up his report.

“Alright, I think I’ll stop here for now,” he sighed as he stood up and stretched, letting out a yawn as he looked over at you to see if you were awake.

Not very surprisingly, you were laying on his bed, your chest heaving slow with your eyes shut. Romani smiled and chuckled to himself as he walked over and shifted around the sheets, keeping in mind to try and not to wake you up, and covered you up so you wouldn’t be cold. He then removed his coat and draped it over you before sitting down on the floor, his chin in his arms as he rested them on the edge of the bed, staring at you fondly. His fingers gently played with your hair and brushed it aside, taking some time to admire your sleeping face.

He propped himself up and pressed his lips against your forehead before sitting back down on the floor. “Goodnight, (Name).”

#romani archaman #doctor roman #doctor romani archaman #fate grand order #fgo #fate go #f/go #fate series #one-shot #fate imagines #leonardo da vinci (mentioned) #fate grand order arc 1 #fate grand order zettai majuu sensen babylonia #fate grand order absolute demonic front babylonia #i love him so much waaaaaaa i miss writing for romani sobs #ty azure for enabling me and reminding me how much i miss him very much sobs #tiane's writing #waaaa anon i hope you liked this too if you're reading!! i had vivid flashbacks while rewritign this lmaoo #late night studying chem physics and math amirite haha and essays sobs #tysm for requesting this and this was lovely to rewrite!! i hope you all enjoy this while we all miss the doctor very much sobs #also i think the header crop is slightly bigger than average but yeet yeet lets go lol #fate writings

[sunnyie-eve]

2 | One of a kind

Series: Terror (Simon Kalivoda x OFC Fraser!)

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: language, mention of drug use

"No creeping around and no sneaking in. Also to call you."

Previous

Later in the day mom made me go to the grocery store with her because she didn't trust me at home if she wasn't there. "Ugh, I don't understand how you are friends with that druggie." She eyes Simon from afar. "Because he's a nice funny guy. You would know if you talked to him when he checks us out before we leave." I tell her and I get a disgusting look from her. "You need to be friends with non-druggies." She continues to talk shit about him then Kate and Denna. "I'll be right back." I walked away since I saw Kate talking with Simon. "You got off the lease?" Simon jokes. "Haha, funny." I fake a smile. "We'll she keeps making you follow so close to her." He makes a point.

"Have you been watching me since we got here?" I ask him. "Yeah, so I could pop in to give this back to you." He shows me my necklace I never take off. "I didn't even notice. Thank you." I take it and put it back on. "How the hell did it even come off? I ask myself. "Who knows it was a wild night. When I got home after walking you I felt it in my pocket." He explains to me. "Huh? What am I missing? There are a lot of holes in this story." Kate looks between us. "I got high with Simon last night at the park. We took two different pills and fell asleep there." I keep it short. "You what? Miss goodie goodie when it comes to drugs, took drugs?" She whispers shouts. "What did you give her for her first time?" Kate turns to Simon.

"Being completely honest with you, I don't remember. I just knew it was the ones that take away all your worries and make you feel like you're flying. Nothing too serious and it was only two pills." He tells her and she keeps hitting him. "You're so fucking stupid!" He just takes the slaps. "Duh." He agrees with her. "What all do you remember?" Kate turns back to me. "We played around at the park. On the swings, playset, and monkey bars. On the monkey bars, we took a different pill and that's all I remember before waking up." I let her know. "Same thing. I guess we just passed out after running around." Simon tells her.

"Oh, by the way, my dad grounded me for coming home this morning so." I let both of them know. "So I can still sneak over but just can't sneak you out again?" Simon says, making me look at him. "No, you're the reason I'm grounded, dude. No more sneaking over. And start to call instead of creeping around outside my window." I hit him as my mom comes with the basket ready to check out. Simon goes around to scan and check us out. "Find everything okay?" He asks her. "Fine." She keeps it short not wanting to have a conversation with him. When he was done he tells her to have a nice day and again she ignores him. "See you guys Monday." I smile at Kate and Simon.

"I don't want you being friends with them." She tells me as we drive home. "You can't tell me who I can't be friends with." I laugh, earning a backhand slap from her. "I'm your mother so yes I can." I just nod my head staying quiet till we get home. When we got home I went straight to my room putting on music to zone out. "What happened?" Sam comes into my room. "Nothing." I started to sketch a picture. "Tell me." She slaps my bed. "She told me to stop being friends with Simon and Kate. I told her she can't tell who I can't be friends with. It earns me a backhand so." I let her know. "Why did you do that? Just do what she says." I stop so I can look up at her. "Okay then, so you agree to stop seeing Denna then." I smile at her. "That's not what I meant." She sighs.

"You told me to do what she says so shouldn't you too then?" I ask her. "I do what mom tells me to do most of the time unlike you. You choose to be the stereotype of someone from Shadyside. Gets in trouble, doesn't follow the rules, etc." She says pissing me off. "Get out of my room and don't come back in here." I point at my door and she leaves. "Bitch." I throw my stuff across the room. I end up spending hours laying on my back staring at the ceiling wishing I had a different family at times. Mostly a new mom and sister. "Time for dinner." My dad opens the door. "I'm not hungry." I let him know. "Fine." He shut my door. I get up picking up what I threw hours ago to start sketching again.

As I was drawing there was a tap at my window. I get up opening it, "What did I tell you?" I ask Simon. "No creeping around and no sneaking in. Also to call you." He smiles at me. "So why are you still doing this?" I laugh letting him in. "I was wondering if you can do my nails again." He walks over to my black nail polish. "I guess I can. Come sit down after locking my door." I tell him and he does. "Thank you." He puts his hand out to me and I take off the old polish. "I don't have much of a choice now do I?" I laugh. "Even if you did, you still would. Wanna know why?" He smiles. "Why?" I ask, looking at his nails. "You love me." I can't help but smile so I look up at him. "Then maybe I should stop because I don't." I close the nail polish bottle.

"But you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have let me in." I shake my head at him. "You are so annoying, Simon." I started to paint his nails. "Just don't mess them up." I reminded him. As I was working on his second hand he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Sorry, I messed this finger up." He shows me his index finger. "I hate you. I'll fix it after this hand." I huff. Once I was finished with painting his nails, he made me blow and fan them so they could dry. "My mom backhanded me across the face leaving the store. She told me to stop being friends with you and Kate. I told her she can't tell who I can't be friends with, which earned me the backhand." I say as I can his nails. "Bitch." I agree. "Then my sister said I should listen to her. We got in a fight about how she does what mom tells her to do most of the time unlike me. I choose to be the stereotype of someone from Shadyside. Gets in trouble, doesn't follow the rules, etc."

"You aren't the typical Shadysider. Yeah, you break some small tiny rules, but you only ever get in trouble at home, not at school. And etc... what? You don't do drugs, except last night, which was a one-time thing." He makes a point. "I know." I sigh. "Lizzy, I can't think of anyone else in Shadyside that is as good as you when it comes to being the best they can be. You don't do anything that could fuck up your future. I have faith in you getting out of here on your own." I wrap my arms around his neck giving him a hug. "That's really nice to hear." I squeeze him. "And I really mean it. Hopefully, you will remember me when you make it." He says as I stop hugging him. "How could I forget you." I kiss his cheek, "You're a one-of-a-kind, Simon Kalivoda." I mess up his hair.

///

Simon just smiles at Elizabeth, falling for her smile even more. "I know I am but thank you." He kisses her forehead. "Elizabeth." Her mother knocks on the door making Simon rush into the closet while she gets up, unlocking her door. "Yes ma'am?" She opens the door and her mother looks into the room. "Time for bed young lady." Elizabeth just nods her head. "Yes, ma'am" She shut the door walking over to her bed grabbing the clothes she sleeps in. "Time to go home Si." She tells him and he comes out. "Don't wanna leave yet." He whines laying in her bed. "How much longer?" She asks, walking into her bathroom to change. "I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess you can stay a little longer." She walks back laying down next to him. He sits up moving to lay his head on her stomach so she could play with his hair and she does.

"How did we even become friends again?" Simon asks, closing his eyes. "You tripped me a month into the new school year when we were 12 because you said I was too cute to talk to you. You thought the only way I would talk to you is if I had to yell at you." Elizabeth laughs thinking back. "Well, you did end up yelling at me." He looks up at her. "Because you made me scrape my knees on the concrete." She tugs on his hair playfully as he starts to draw on her thigh with her pen. "And now you have a scar to remind you all the time of how we met and became best friends." He tells her. They both end up falling asleep for about twenty minutes before both waking up. "I should get going now." He gets off the bed. "Yeah, I hate sharing my bed." Liz laughs sitting up. "See you Monday. Goodnight." He opens the window. "Night night." She closes the window behind him as he walks off.

Elizabeth's body takes over, straddling Simon, leaning down to kiss him while his hands grab her hips. He rolls them over so he is on top kissing her then down her neck and collar bone. He moves his hand under her shirt, sliding his hand up and down her side. He pressed his lips against hers again, and trailed his hand down her thigh, rubbing it. Elizabeth jolts up out from her bed not believing what she just dreamed. It felt so real it scared her. She wanted to go back to sleep but she was nervous if her brain wanted to continue what she just dreamed. But then again part of her actually wanted to continue that dream. She falls back to lay down staring into the darkness of her room till she falls asleep again.

Monday comes quick and as Elizabeth was getting things ready to leave she spots Simon's watch at the foot of the bed on the floor. She picks it up, putting it in her bag before heading to school. "How was being grounded?" Kate asks, walking up to Liz at her locker. "Alright, my mom slapped me because I said I won't stop being friends with you and Simon." Liz lets her know. "Bitch." Kate leans against the other lockers. "Hey by chance-," Liz cuts Simon off, "You left this in my room? Yes." She pulls out his watch. "I was going to stop by Sunday but decided to give you a day off from me." He puts it on his wrist. "Thank you so much." She laughs. "Didn't she tell you to not sneak over?" Kate asks him. "Yeah, but do I ever listen? Plus I wanted my nails done." He shows them to her. Elizabeth can't help but be uncomfortable with the dream she had about Simon.

"Kate, can I talk to you in the girls' room?" She asks her. "Sure." She agrees, making Liz grab her hand, pulling her to the bathroom. "What up?" Kate leans against the wall. "I had a dream about Simon Saturday night," Liz whispers to her. "What kind of dream?" Kate gets excited on the inside. "We made out in my dream, but the thing is it felt super real." She hides her face. Kate's jaw drops, not believing it. If the dream felt super real to her then that means it probably happened after they took that second pill. "So you like Simon?" She asks her. "I guess... Maybe... I don't know... Yes, okay yes." Elizabeth whines. "What's the problem?" Kate asks. "I don't know if he likes me and I don't wanna mess up our relationship. Just don't tell him please, Kate." She begs her. "I promise. You're best friend will keep your secret safe." Kate smiles.

Next

#fear street trilogy #fear street 1666 #fear street 1994 #fear street deena #fear street kate #fear street sam #fear street josh #fear street simon #fear street #simon fear street #simon kalivoda #deena fear street #kate fear street #kate schmidt #sam fear street #josh fear street #fear street ff #fear street fanfic

[ravenwolfie97]

2020 Art Summary

Yep, it’s 2021 already. 2020 is finally over. It felt like it lasted forever, and it felt like the end would never come, but here we are. Crazy how the time flew by.

I felt like I didn’t get much art done this year because of Current World Event, but I made a lot more than I thought I did. Even some of my new favorite pieces came out of this year, so I think that’s worth celebrating and looking back upon!

I was insanely productive during the first month of 2020, and looking back I was surprised at all the stuff I did, but then I remembered that that winter season was actually one of the best times of my life! I started being more socially involved, and I think my newfound drive at the time translated into all the art I pumped out this month. This is just a small fraction of what I made in January, but I only have so much space. Quite a few complex pieces in both style exploration and polishing my own style.

Apparently February was a rather intimate month. Things began to slow down in terms of my own art here, with me spending more time in social settings and school work ramping up, I didn’t have as much time to coop up in my room to draw. I did wanna do something for a friend’s Valentine’s Day OC art challenge, so I drew my lovey-dovey couple from Dance of 1000 Words havin’ a dance. Nothing actually came of that challenge, but it was fun to do regardless.

One of the things I was most proud of in the winter season was making more friends, and one of the closest friends I made was completely coincidental. I met a person named Kiri on the bus one night I decided to volunteer somewhere by myself, and we ended up chatting and getting along. They quickly told me their tumblr username, and I shot them a message immediately after they left. A couple days later, we met up for brunch, and we started becoming really close friends and creative partners!

Not much else happened in March cuz that’s when Current World Event started becoming an issue, but Kiri and I still kept in close touch and we randomly started developing a concept for a Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Galar Edition. These are a handful of characters we thought up, with Skipper the Scorbunny and Dross the Dreepy as the main characters, Morgrem as the main antagonist, and some shopkeepers such as those of the Greedent Bank and the Indeedee General Store. This was also my first time drawing all of these Galar Pokemon (except Scorbunny, but I also made Skipper a bit more unique than a regular Scorbunny).

Lots of events happened this month. First of all, Steven Universe Future ended, one of my favorite and most influential shows was no longer continuing. I had to do something as tribute, both as a send-off to one of the greatest cartoons in the world and as a cathartic release for my feelings towards it.

A while later, I got the opportunity to start playing an MMO in beta called Fer.al, by the same people who made Animal Jam, which coincidentally I had also beta tested for back in the day. I ended up getting really attached to my first character, a Senri I named Sasha, and though I’ve made more characters than them since, they’re still my absolute favorite. Though I haven’t touched the game in a few months, I was really engrossed for a long time and enjoyed playing through the beta and early access phases.

At the end of the month, some friends of mine invited to a roleplay group with some mutuals, and we all played characters in a crime syndicate. Just a bunch of ragtag thieves and criminals who ended up together in order to protect an artifact called the Crown of Thieves, which was essentially a flag to be taken by other groups to prove that they are the best thieves in the land. My character was based heavily on my sona (if it wasn’t obvious) and was also influenced by Cloud Strife, since the FFVII Remake had just come out and I was super into watching the cutscenes at the time. My character’s (code)name is Valkyrie, and they are a mercenary, going between multiple different employers to carry out whatever duties they need to do. They have a more complicated backstory, but presently they were recently hired by recommendation of their friend Shark (played by @shmoots-universe​ who is also My friend now ily maya) who works with a group called the Court Cards who are currently in possession of the Crown of Thieves. Valk never really had a place to call home, but staying with this group of people had to be the closest they could get to that feeling. They still sleep with a knife under their pillow because of trust issue but that’s okay.

Okay, so technically these examples started in April, but I continued making content with them in May, and the month was just pretty void of art in general, so here I am addressing them.

There were two main things I worked on this month: a Steven Universe AU of my own and the whole #sixfanarts thing that kicked off around then. Let’s start with the fanart bits. I did two and a half of them (six in April and nine in May), and it was so much fun to be able to draw stuff I don’t normally do! My personal favorites are shown here: Blake Belladonna from RWBY, Roll from Megaman, Yuki Konno from Sword Art Online, and Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. The other thing I’d been planning for a while was a Steven Universe AU, probably to cope with the show being over but also because I was inspired by a lot of those SU AU artists I started following at the time. I won’t share the details here because it’s gonna have its own blog at some point, but the example I’ve shown here is of a comic I made loosely in order to introduce a divergence in the plot of the story as well as introduce a character unique to my AU. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to draw the characters and get a feel for the style.

As the year progressed, my amount of art I made per month began to dwindle, this time mostly because school was kicking my ass especially hard with finals. However, I took what time I had to get some backburner pieces finished, like the Tigerlily picture which I sketched out a couple months back, and the Gunvolt picture which I started working on SIX YEARS AGO. I don’t quite know why I got the urge to work on it again after so long, but it was nice to finally realize. The other drawing for DOTS was done in the dead of night but I was really happy with how it came out.

Despite only having two summer classes left of school, this month was really rough because they demanded a lot of my time and attention. I did not have the gumption to do anything digital, so I stuck to my sketchbook to get out what I felt like getting out.

My friends and I did a stream of the game Helltaker, and I really enjoyed the concept, so in following my friends I made my own Helltaker demon OC named Raksha the Ravenous Demon (it’s a pun but also got mythical insp). I also got super into Hazbin Hotel at this point, mostly because the Addict music video dropped and I couldn’t get enough of it, so I doodled Angel Dust cuz I felt like it. The other drawing I did was actually a free commission I gave a friend of mine as a prize for a trivia game show I ran back in June. He along with a couple other friends got some free drawings from me for getting the top three scores, and this one in particular was fun because of how interesting it was. He wanted me to draw a video game reviewer called the Irate Gamer from a specific moment, and I decided to go ham and just make it as dramatic as possible.

University classes finally wrapped up and right after that I was in the process of moving out of my apartment and getting adjusted to living with my parents again. I did a couple of agg.io drawing sessions with my friends from the Court Cards group as well as a new Dungeons and Dragons homebrew group I had joined. I drew some more of Valkyrie and came up with a design for my DND character Qakuqtuq (or Kai for short). He is monkey grandpa and I love him.

My main focus was on finishing a polished piece for my friend Cake, whose birthday was in the upcoming month. I wanted it to be as amazing as possible, so I put a lot of time into getting more detailed and making them look good. In addition to that, I did a few TOME doodles just for fun. The creature on the bottom was for this month’s art challenge on my Discord server where we made original TOMERPG monsters, and I created Hundylow, a Crystal-element monster based on the Grindylow from English folklore.

This month was a lot more productive than the past few had been. I tried to do a 31-day art challenge called Creatober but failed to get past the third prompt because I was still swamped with other work. I’m still happy with what little I did, including the piece with my characters Kyle and Guarudan from DSWD.

I don’t remember how, but I also suddenly rediscovered an old Flipnote Hatena series called Tales of LostClan, a Warriors fan series that I would say was the most obscure thing I’ve ever been super invested in. It was what got me into the actual Warriors books, and I liked it so much I redrew the animations into a comic... twice. Didn’t get nearly as far the second time but clearly my love for this little fanfiction had not waned after nearly a decade. I felt like drawing a book cover/movie poster for the series, just to get it out there and see how much I’ve improved over all that time.

Also I felt like making a vampiresona just before Halloween because I never dress up for Halloween in art (or real life anymore, for that matter), and I wanted to do something like that for once. It was short-lived but I really liked the design!

The focus of this month was definitely on Pokemon stuff. As per usual I contributed to the current Gotta Draw ‘Em All collab, and I was tasked to draw Regieleki. It was really fun to figure out how to make it stand out and look like it was made of electricity.

I also committed a lot of my spare time to my Fakemon Gym Leaders, as I had been working on bringing them to life in the past year or so now. As of this post, I’ve finished rendering their full body poses and gym badges, but I’m still working on completing all eight VS portraits, the first half of which are shown here.

I... didn’t draw anything this month, actually. What I’m showing here was worked on in the last few days but has actually been in progress for a couple of months, and I just finished it earlier today, in 2021. But I needed to show something off, and it’s also about time I mentioned it.

Back in October, I kept seeing people rave about this game called Genshin Impact, and I was interested but not so much as to start playing it... until my friends started playing and I was like “fuck it, let’s download it”. Since that day, I have been super immersed and in love with this game, to the point I came up with my own canon based on my gameplay experiences. This also included the creation of an original player character: Astra, the non-binary Traveller. And now, I’ve finally drawn them and brought them to life.

It has been one hell of a year. I had some of the highest highs and lowest lows in 2020, lots of changes, and I have now officially moved onto the next chapter of my life now that my time at university is finally over. I’m very excited for what 2021 has to offer, and I’m going to go forward with great ambition.

#my art stuff #art summary #this is always a joy to do every year and i'm glad to keep up the tradition for the sixth year in a row #this year was super good for this as well just to look back on what i was actually able to accomplish #long post #tome #hazbin hotel

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Surprising Too Late Part I

Part 1

Nick

           “Matt, hand me that shelf.” My brother and I were practically dripping in sweat as we helped our dad put in a partition wall in the garage that had once been our home gym. It still was, technically, but we’d moved some of the pieces around to make room for a new purpose.

           Y/N’s birthday was in a week, and we had a surprise for her. When we’d met almost nineteen years ago—God, had it been that long—she’d been an art student. There were so many times when she’d beg the two of us to sit for sketches. I remembered the first time she showed me one of her paintings. It was a breathtakingly beautiful self-portrait. She’d given it to me as a present on our first anniversary. But in the years that followed that gift, our wife spent less and less time chasing her joy of art. It was as if the moment that Mattie was born, Y/N set aside everything except for our newborn daughter and us.

           “Is that going to be big enough?” he replied, holding out a piece of varnished and polished wood.

           Our dad poked his head around the corner. He was working outside, making sure that the window AC unit was sealed. “What are you putting on it?”

           I pointed to a spread of jars filled with a variety of paintbrushes and tubes of acrylic paint along with a bento box Kenny had given her where she kept her chalk. Dad looked between the objects and the shelf in Matt’s hands before he nodded.

           “Yeah, just tack an extra screw at the back of the bracket top and bottom.”

           I grinned and dug into my pocket for two more screws. “This is going so much better than the swing set.”

           Dad practically cackled. “You two helped me build your ring when you were teenagers. How you couldn’t follow some simple instructions is beyond me.”

           “To be fair,” Matt said as he passed over the electric screwdriver and the level. “We were stubborn.”

           “You were showing off,” Dad called back.

           “True,” I snorted. “Matt, hold this down.”

Matt

           It was hard to keep a straight face in the days leading up to Y/N’s birthday. We spent those final days in a panic. We ended up having to be in Jacksonville an extra day for a taping, and we ended up making panicked calls to our dad to get some final hardware stuff handled. From Friday to Saturday night, I don’t think either my brother or I slept more than a few hours. We took turns keeping our wife occupied while the other slipped away to the other house with the kids or to the garage to hang shelves or photos or art.

           I spent Saturday night—the night before her birthday—going through boxes of drawings the kids had done over the years. Nick had gone out that morning and picked up a dozen picture frames. I picked out two drawings from each of the kids and tucked them carefully into a frame to hang on the wall or sit out on the tables in the space we’d made for her.

           Nick had crept into her charcoal pencils and sketched the outline of the Tokyo Dome. It had taken a while, but the story of that first time he’d kissed her came out in the early days of our life together. It was a moment I didn’t begrudge them and I memory I hoped they kept with them forever.

           I’d spent hours trying to figure out what my addition would be. After a while, I decided to do my best to replicate that moment when our lives together really began. I went through my iCloud and pulled up the photos from our honeymoon. There was half a dozen of that day on the coast where Nick and Y/N had exchanged their rings. It took three tries, but I finally produced something that looked like the lighthouse on the edge of Oahu.

           It was the early hours of the morning of Y/N’s birthday when I finally slipped back into the house, bleary eyed and exhausted. Nick stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and chugging a bottle of water.

           “Everything’s ready,” I said around a yawn. I thought about making a cup of coffee. “Is she still asleep?”

           “Everybody is. RJ was having nightmares, so I slept most of the night in his room.” My brother smiled a little. “Go get in bed. I’ll be there as soon as I check on little man.”

           I reached out and hugged him. “Thanks, Nick. For everything you’ve done all these years.”

           Nick locked his arms around me and squeezed me hard. “Thank you for letting me be here. For taking me back.”

           I squeezed my eyes shut. I wasn’t going to cry. “You and Y/N are the most important people in my life. And this life is the one for us, no matter what anyone says.”

           I padded down the hallway to the master bedroom. Y/N was curled beneath the blankets in the center of the king-sized bed. For a moment, I stood there watching her sleeping. I remembered the first time I saw her, the first time I kissed her. My wife was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t believe that I’d been lucky enough to have the last almost twenty years with her.

           She snuggled close to me when I slipped into bed beside her. She pressed her lips against my cheek and tucked herself under my arm. Her head pillowed on my chest. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes.

           Sometime later, Nick crawled into bed on her other side. He curled up behind her, his arm tucked around her waist. Together—just like we faced everything else in life—we went to sleep.

***

           I woke up to a faint knocking. Sleep fell away slowly. I was warm and comfortable snuggled between Matt and Nick. They were both sound asleep, made evident by Nick’s slightly open mouth and Matt’s soft snores.

           The knock came again. I sighed and sat up, crawling down to the end of the bed to avoid waking either of them. Rubbing my eyes to wake up, I opened the bedroom door to find my sixteen-year-old daughter.

           “Happy birthday, Mom,” she said with a grin. “We made breakfast for you and Dad and Papa.”

           I smiled, tears in my eyes. “I think Dad and Papa are out of it for a while. But we’ll save them a plate.”

           She led the way to the kitchen where thirteen-year-old Nicole was piling eggs on the plates of her brothers. Ten-year-old Lee was carefully pouring orange juice into a line of cups. He turned and gave me a smile that looked exactly like Matt’s.

           “Morning, Mama! Happy birthday!” he said as he carried one cup at a time to the table. He handed six-year-old Ty his favorite cup, earning a wide grin from his youngest brother.

           The kids pulled me toward the table and tucked me into my normal place between Mattie and Nicole. The boys lined up on the other side of the table. Seats at the head and foot were empty, waiting for Matt and Nick to join us.

           Mattie looked around the table and frowned. She stood up and practically stalked down the hallway back to the master bedroom. I hid my laughter behind my hand as I heard her pounding on the door, yelling for her Dad and Papa to get up right now you’re ruining Mom’s birthday breakfast!

           Ty grinned, his smile pushing into his cheeks, and giggled. “Mattie’s yelling at them!”

           RJ looked over at his baby brother and nodded. “Serves them right. It’s Mama’s birthday.”

           My heart swelled at the sweetness from my sons. Lee looked after his sister and scrambled from his seat to run to join Mattie. He stood next to her, pounding his fist on the door in time with hers.

           “We’re coming, we’re coming,” Nick growled playfully as he swung open the door. I saw him grin at our eldest daughter before he leaned over, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder. “Do you think we’d miss your mother’s birthday breakfast?”

           Matt appeared right behind him, swinging Lee up onto his back. “We were up late getting Mama’s present ready.”

           “Present?” I asked, arching my brows. I followed their movement as they carried our eldest son and daughter back into the kitchen. They deposited them in their seats, slipped around to press a tandem kiss on my cheeks, and smiled as they sank into their seats.

           “Who made this?” Matt asked, looking down at the plate in front of him.

           “Nikki,” Ty said proudly. She was his favorite, and he loved everything that she did.

           Matt’s brow lifted as he beamed at her. She blushed and looked away. “It looks amazing, Bug,” he said before taking a bite. “You cook like your mother.”

           Nicole glanced up at me, pride on her face. I kissed the top of her head. “You can help me make Thanksgiving dinner this year,” I whispered.

***

           After breakfast, Matt and Nick tied an Elite bandana around my eyes. Then they took me by the hands and led me through the house. I could hear the children following along, whispering and giggling at each other. I looked around, trying to get an idea of what was happening, particularly when we left the house for the late September sunshine.

           Nick talked quietly as he guided me over the uneven bumps and dips. I followed a map of our property in my head as I tried to figure out where they were taking me.

           “Okay,” Matt said from my left. “Mattie, you got the camera?”

           “Yep,” I heard her reply.

           The bandana fell away, and I squinted in the bright light. We stood outside the garage that the boys had converted into a home gym when they bought their homes next to each other. I stared at the door, not sure what was happening.

           Nick stepped in front of me, his hand on the doorknob, and grinned. “You’ve given up so much for us, Y/N. Your passions and your hobbies. It’s time you got those back.”

           The kids filed in behind Nick, Mattie walking backward to keep her cell phone trained on me. Matt pushed me forward with his palm on the base of my spine. The moment I stepped over the threshold, I started to cry. The space was no longer a gym. Somehow, the boys had created a whole new room. It was painted a soft heather grey and stocked with every art supply I owned. My bento box with my chalks. Mason jars of brushes and acrylic. An easel and canvases of every size. Parchment paper. Everything I could ever want or need to draw, sketch, or paint.

           The walls were hung with frames of every size and shape. Some held pictures the kids had drawn over the years, signed at the bottom with their names and ages. Two of them were clearly by Matt and Nick. A rough black and white sketch of the curving roof of the Tokyo Dome. Another carefully drawn outline of a lighthouse along a coast.

           A palette had been turned into a photo frame—I suspected Brandon’s wife had something to do with it. It was splashed with bright colors, and circular holes had been cut into the wood. A picture of each of my children had been placed inside. A larger oval had a picture of the three of us at the wedding, the two of them standing in their suits on either side of me. A photo we were desperately grateful for after the fact.

           I turned around in circles, one after the other, trying to take in everything. My heart pounded in my chest and the tears poured down my cheeks. Mattie followed my every move with the camera, her hands shaking as she cried, too. Nicole sniffled.

           “Do you like it?” Matt asked softly.

           Nick leaned his chin on his brother’s shoulder. The two of them watched me apprehensively, almost terrified.

           “I love it. So much,” I whispered, trying to take a breath. “You… you did this… It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”

           A moment later, I was wrapped up in their arms. “We love you,” Nick whispered in my ear as Matt cradled my head in his hand. “Happy birthday, Sunshine.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @lilred91​ @imagineall-the-fandoms​ @maelleoute​ @librathepheonix13​ @justamess44​

#the too late tales #too late tales #surprising too late part 1 #matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #nick jackson #nick jackson fanfiction #young bucks #young bucks fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #matt x reader #nick x reader #matt x reader x nick #polyamory #polyamorous relationships

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 2)

Summary: Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/64292134#workskin

A few weeks ago I was having kind of a writer’s block and my mom a friend of mine (cof cof @dawniebb cof cof) recommended me to create a playlist for my fic... and I did. @nodrianbcyes already listened to it and said it ruled so I’m gonna share it with you guys, pls don’t make fun of my music taste (? You can listen to it clicking here. 

Mmmm, what else, what else??? Hope you like it! Reblogs, funny tags, likes and dead threats are always welcome!

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @ohmyskies @blueraspberry-official (tell me if you want in or out, don’t worry)

The stupidest plan 

You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time,

but that's ok, I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine.

I'm driving here I sit, cursing my government,

for not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement.

Hugh

He had spent the whole night sketching the battle between Wonder Man and Ace Anarchy. It had been very tedious to be working without proper lighting. For a moment he believed that when morning came, his drawing would not look as good as he thought. However, the morning had come.

And it was perfect.

Although now that he was polishing the last details while waiting for classes to begin, he came across a question that kept him from concentrating.

Simon quietly walked into the classroom, as if he was afraid of bothering someone with his mere presence (although they literally were only ones there). He sat in the first seat in the row to his right. Simon hated sitting upfront because he said it only brought more attention to himself than he wanted to. However, Hugh couldn't sit anywhere else. His glasses weren't the best.

Also, it was strangely depressing to sit on the last row and see that of the forty tables in the room, only fifteen were filled. Twenty if it was a busy day. From the front, it was easier to ignore that more than half of the kids in his class had dropped out of school. 

But Hugh had enough of ignoring things.

“What color are Ace Anarchy’s eyes?” he asked Simon.

“Good morning to you too,” he replied sarcastically.

“Good morning.” He took gray in one hand and blue in the other. “What color are Ace Anarchy's eyes?”

Simon looked carefully at the colors. “I don't know, gray? I feel like they are gray. I can't imagine him having blue eyes.”

Hugh agreed.

“What are you drawing?” Simon asked.

“Propaganda,” he replied with a mischievous smile.

“It looks good.”

“I’m a propaganda expert, indeed.” He grabbed his classroom chair and pushed it to the right next to Simon's. He would return it to its place when the professor entered. “Have you thought about what I told you about yesterday?”

He looked away. “No.”

He shook his head. Simon was lying. “I was being very serious, you know.”

“And I was too. Stop thinking bullshit,” and he smacked him on the back of the neck. “Or do I have to beat those ideas out of you, Wonder Man?”

Hugh hit him back, but in the arm. “Come on. I don’t believe it is bullshit.”

And I don't think you believe that either.

“All right, but you believe many things. You believed in Santa Claus until very recently.” Simon started playing with a ball of crumpled paper that had been lying on the floor for a week. “When you told me ‘Simon, but it has all the logic in the world that Santa exists, he is a prodigy, like us ’ and I was like—"

“A part of me died that tragic day,” he said in a dramatic voice, one hand on his chest. “My childhood…”

“You were eleven years old. It was to save you from bullying. I was protecting you.” The door opened again and they both turned at the same time to see who it was. It was just a group of girls. Good. “It's not like it helped that much though.”

He shrugged.

Neither Simon nor he had been spared from bullying during those years. All the schools in the district were mostly filled with non-prodigies because most of the prodigies were in gangs or hiding in their homes. The few who were still in school did their best not to cause problems and to go unnoticed. They were part of that last group since middle school.

However, the entire school found out about their powers when Simon got so nervous at a presentation that he disappeared in front of his entire class. Hugh tried to intervene but stood up so fast that he tripped over his backpack and hit his nose on the floor. He did not bleed or receive a single scratch. People were quick to connect the dots.

Obviously if one was a prodigy, the other one was too. 

Alter all, freaks stuck together. 

They thought high school was going to be different, but no. On the first day, an older boy caught Simon turning invisible intermittently in the bathroom while having a panic attack. A few hours later, a girl tried to stab Hugh with a pencil and all it did was break it as soon as it made contact with his skin.

“The next time you have a panic attack,” he told Simon on their way home, “tell me.”

“And the next time someone tries to stab you with a pencil, you stab them back.”

When you were a prodigy, it didn't matter if one believed in Santa or not. The mere fact of existing was enough to cause problems.

“At eleven you're still a kid,” Simon kicked him under the bench as he laughed. “Did you ever believe in Santa?”

“No. At my house the one who gave the presents was Baby Jesus,” he replied. “But I didn't believe in him either. How could a baby deliver all those gifts? His hands are too tiny”

Simon gave a light laugh, but Hugh couldn't even smile.

He toyed with the color blue. “Simon, did you ever believe in something?”

Simon bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at the ceiling. He took his sweet time thinking before replying, “I have believed in things.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Like what things?”

“Well... I believed the stories my mom told me before bed,” he replied. “I also believed they were never going to stop producing The Scarlet Enchantress and the Phantom Feline comics—” He gestured for him to come closer— “or that I was going to be a prodigy,” he whispered.

Hugh smiled at him. “The best curse ever.”

“What did you believe in?”

He laid his head on his desk. “I have a whole list.”

Simon covered his head with his hood and pretended to be ready to fall asleep. “The short version of that list, then.”

Hugh imitated him. “I used to believe that adults never grew up. Like, they were born as adults,” Simon laughed and rolled his eyes. “I thought little people were running the television inside of it. I thought my aunt was the most beautiful woman in the world—”

“She is,” Simon replied.

“Simon, stop it. She is my aunt. You have many other girls to choose from.”

“They are not as pretty as your aunt.”

“Simon!”

Simon laughed and the girls shushed him. His friend turned red in the ears as they returned to their conversation like nothing. Hugh wanted to point out how rude they had been.

However, when Simon discreetly smiled at him again, he decided to continue with his list. Those girls were not worthy of his attention. “I also believed in Santa Claus, until someone ruined my hopes and dreams.” Another kick. Simon kicked people too much. “But I also believe in that someone, you know.”

Simon's smile almost disappeared. “Well... that someone doesn't believe in himself.”

I knew it.

He understood his friend. He really did. He knew there were times when Simon would get more nervous than normal in banal situations. Or that he had some days when he didn't want to get out of bed at all. 

Those were the worst.

But despite that, not a single day passed that Simon didn't get up and go to school with him. Even when Hugh had to stop at his house and practically beg him to do it. 

Simon had never left him alone. And Hugh wasn't going to do it now.

He gifted him the widest of his smiles. “Well that someone doesn't have to worry about it. I can believe in him for both of us.”

Simon stared into his eyes for several seconds. He felt like he knew that face as well as he knew his. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am sure,” he replied.

Simon kicked him again.

Hugh felt sparks exploding inside his stomach.

Suddenly, a body slammed into the lockers, and screams filled the school hallway. The trio of girls ran out to see who was involved. Hugh leaned out of the small window in the door. He had always believed he was above that kind of thing, and he was. But it was also the most interesting thing that was going to happen all day.

Simon followed him.

They were a couple of boys from their grade, the same ones who constantly teased them. One with curly blond hair was holding his friend by the collar of his shirt and was yelling an infinity of curse words. The other three in his group, instead of separating them as good friends would do, they had joined the chorus of “Fight! Fight!"

Who knows why they were fighting. They were always fighting someone, but never with each other. They usually grabbed someone smaller than themselves for that, like the prodigy boy that was a grade below them. (They would never physically fight Hugh or Simon, making jokes at their expense was enough for them.) 

Cowards.

Maybe they were just brutally bored.

But there had to be other ways to shake off the boredom.

“I'm going to tell a teacher,” Hugh said.

At that moment, one of the girls ran out of the scene in the direction of the teachers' office. Well, at least now he wouldn't be the one to look like a snitch in front of his entire grade.

“That someone is slightly concerned,” Simon whispered.

“Why?” The blond slammed his friend again, but this time, against the door. “For them?”

“No,” he replied, a little disturbed by the tremendous blow that boy had received. “I am— that someone is... Well, what if the plan you have in your head is stupid?”

At that moment, Hugh realized that he had no plans. That was weird. He always had a plan for everything.

Beating Ace Anarchy should be no exception.

“I suppose we can come up with something. The two of us,” he added.

The fight was broken up by a short-haired teacher. They hurriedly returned their school chairs to their places and the rest of their class entered. Five, six, nine...

Eleven. Only eleven kids had attended that day. And that counting the ones who were fighting a few moments ago. 

“Don't think that someone is just going to blindly follow you,” Simon whispered. “He will tell you when you have a stupid plan.”

“I would be very grateful for that,” he also replied in a whisper. “Although I always have amazing plans, to begin with.”

Simon tried to kick him, but at that moment, the teacher from the first class entered. Hugh chuckled, and in response, Simon discreetly raised his middle finger in his direction.

He knew at that moment that it would not be a stupid plan.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #fic #ao3 #OG renegades #hugh everhart #simon westwood #georgia rawles #tamaya rae #kasumi hasegawa #evander wade #rise of the renegades #two bros trying to be straight #humon #i guess #lol

[quickspinner]

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 2 Daydreams

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

Marinette started coming to the music lessons every so often, dropping Louis off and picking him up. Luka gathered from Louis that it was unusual that she hadn’t come before, that normally Adrien and Marinette took turns getting Louis around to his activities. At least they didn’t just send him with the driver like Gabriel used to do. Luka wondered if Marinette hadn’t come before because she disagreed with Adrien about making Louis continue his lessons, but it was really none of his business, so he didn’t ask.

His reaction to her was just as strong as it was the first time, though he at least managed to retain control of his senses for the most part. It helped that their conversations were short and entirely professional, and after years of teaching, Luka could issue a verbal student progress report in his sleep. 

Luka did his best not to think about her outside of those interactions, and he was doing pretty well...for a while.

***

Luka sighed as he read Juleka’s message, and looked around for something to kill time. If he remembered where he was correctly, there was an outdoor flea market a couple streets over where he’d found some good vintage vinyls now and then. Might as well check it out, since Juleka was going to be late. 

Luka straightened the leather vest he wore over his t-shirt absently, glad he had opted against his jacket under this bright sun, checked to make sure he still had his wallet in his pocket, and set off. The market was a street or two farther down than he was thinking, but still only a few minutes walk. 

How he spotted her in a crowd like that, he’d never know, but there was Marinette, leaning over a table, turning over some brightly colored pieces of fabric—placemats maybe, he couldn’t really tell. She was dressed far more casually than he’d ever seen her, though she still looked nicely put together in jeans and a light sweater with a wide collar. Her dark hair was piled up in a messy bun so that there was one long unobstructed line from her neck to the curve of her shoulder—

Luka looked away quickly, feeling like a stupid teenager with a crush, butterflies in his stomach and all. It was stupid, he was stupid, he was a grown man and she was a client and he could say hi without being a total idiot about it. 

But then again, no, it would be weird, he decided. It would be one thing if she saw him, then obviously he would wave, but to go up and get her attention, no, they weren’t that closely acquainted. He aimed for a table piled with musical paraphernalia a few down from where she was and tried to stay casual and not look back at her again. 

Luka was thumbing through some old records looking for something interesting when suddenly there was a yelp and something crashed into him from the side. Luka lurched, just managing to keep his feet, but whoever had knocked into him was headed for a close encounter with the pavement. Luka reacted without thinking, managing to get one arm under the person—woman—and grab onto a wrist with the other hand. Off balance as he was, he couldn’t stop her fall entirely, but he managed to lower her to the pavement in a somewhat controlled way. His eyes widened when he realized who he had just rescued. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a slow grin, as Marinette blinked up at him. “You okay?”

“M. Couffaine!” she gasped. “I mean—Luka—I mean, yes, I’m okay, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened—”

Luka changed his grip from her wrist to her hand and tried to pull her to her feet, but she stumbled again immediately. “My shoes,” she said, leaning heavily on his arms. “Something’s wrong.” 

“Here, sit down,” Luka said, lowering her to the pavement a second time. “Ah.” He crouched at her feet, hooking two fingers through the shoelaces of her sneakers, which were tied to each other. “Looks like there’s a prankster on the loose.” 

“Oh!” Marinette made an irritated noise, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. “I bet I know exactly who it was. I just stopped some kids from throwing rocks at the birds a minute ago.” 

“You’re probably right,” Luka said, pulling off his sunglasses and getting down on one knee to tug at the knotted laces. “Just sit tight, I’m pretty good with knots.” He glanced up to find her looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Not, um, recreationally,” he grinned, with a wink that made her blush. “I grew up on a boat, so knots were kind of a part of life.” He avoided looking her in the eye, trying to focus on her shoelaces.

Not that looking at her legs was much better. Those jeans fit her really nicely. He bit his lip and hoped he wasn’t blushing visibly. 

“My bag,” Marinette muttered suddenly, twisting where she sat to look around. “Oh!” There was a large bag with the Gabriel logo on it on the ground nearby, its contents spread over the sidewalk. Fortunately most people were just walking around the mess rather than right over it, though her belongings were clearly in danger of being kicked all over the street. 

“I’ll get it, just sit tight for a minute,” Luka said, leaving her laces for the moment in favor of retrieving her things before they were trampled or stolen. 

“Wait, my sketchbook,” Marinette said, pointing to where it had fallen in the street. “I really need that. Everything else is replaceable.” She looked like she was about to crawl for it, but Luka waved a hand for her to wait and went to get it first. Watching the traffic carefully (Juleka would kill him if he ended up in the hospital over something like this), he stepped into the street, bent down, and got her book. He turned and held it up as he stepped back onto the curb; to his surprise, Marinette was blushing vividly. “Oh, um, thank you,” she stammered as he handed her the book, averting her eyes from him.

Slightly confused, Luka replayed the last few minutes in his mind. Wait, was she checking me out? Luka bit back a grin. “I’ll get the rest, just hang tight.” She made a strangled noise as he turned away, and it was all he could do to keep his laughter to himself as he picked up the rest of her things. He glanced back once, but Marinette was staring at the ground beneath her feet, her hands up on either side of her face like blinders. Luka laughed quietly as he picked up the rest of her things. She was too cute, and honestly it felt kind of good to be checked out by a woman like her. At least he felt less guilty for ogling her legs.

“I think I got everything,” he said as he set the bag down next to her. “You can check while I get you untied. Although—hang on, let’s get you out of the middle of the sidewalk.” There wasn’t much of a crowd at the moment but they were about due for the lunch rush to flood the sidewalks, and Parisians on a mission weren’t known for their patience. There was a bench only a few feet away. He crouched down beside her. “May I?”

Color flooded her face. “Oh, you don’t—I mean I can make it that far, you don’t have to—” 

“If that’s what you prefer,” Luka shrugged, offering his hands. She let him pull her to her feet and steady her, and then made a little hop towards the bench, and promptly toppled, almost losing her grip on her bag again. Luka, prepared this time, caught her around the waist, and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh and mostly failing.

Marinette sighed and pouted. “Fine. Please. I’m so sorry about all this.” 

“It’s fine,” Luka said, slipping one arm down under her knees. “Here we go.” 

A bridal carry was always a lot harder than they made it look on TV, but Marinette was small, so it didn’t take much to get her to the bench. He set her down and then sat down himself by her feet, guiding them up into his lap. 

“Thank you so much,” she said, sounding miserable. “Honestly, I’m so sorry about all this.” The little ladybug winked at him as she pressed her hand to her forehead in obvious frustration. 

“It’s all good,” Luka said, flashing her an easy smile. “I’m glad I was here.” He picked at her laces, silently resigning himself to redoing his nail polish that night. Marinette’s various falls had tightened the knot and there was no way his nails would survive. “I’m just killing time, anyway. I’m supposed to be meeting my sister for lunch, but she’s running late.” He glanced up and caught Marinette eyeing up his arms, but tried not to let on that he’d noticed, though a smile tugged at his lips. “How about you? Doing some shopping?”

“Some shopping, some sketching,” she sighed, leaning back on her hands. “Looking for inspiration, I guess.”

“This can be a good place to find it,” Luka said, glancing around at the market with all of its varied people and textures and sounds. “I’ve found it here a couple times myself. Been a while since I was here, though, honestly. I’m a little surprised to see you here in the middle of the day.” 

“Well, the truth is...” Marinette leaned forward, propped her cheek on one fist, and gave him a pout that drew his eyes straight to her sinfully perfect lips. “My assistant basically kicked me out of the office today. Apparently I was terrorizing the interns and she thought I could use a break. I’m not allowed to go back until at least 3:00.” She sighed. “I have a ton of stuff to do at the office, but I make it a point never to argue with the person responsible for my morning coffee, so here I am.” 

Luka had to clear his throat. “Sound policy.” He made the mistake of looking at her again and this time he caught the full impact of her beautiful eyes like a kick in the gut. His eyes tried to find somewhere else to look and landed on her bare neck, and the wide collar of her light sweater just hanging onto the tips of her shoulders—he quickly looked back down at what he was doing, mouth suddenly dry. He finally managed to pull free one loop of the knot. “There we go,” he muttered, just for something to say. “That should loosen it up a bit, and...there, you’re free.” He grinned at her, and retied her laces correctly.  

“Thank you so much!” Marinette turned and let her feet drop to the ground, and once again he couldn’t stop staring at the line of her neck and the curve of her shoulder. He needed to look away, right now, but before he could manage it she smiled up at him. “I’m so sorry for crashing into you like that.”

The first six responses he could think of were highly inappropriate and he was beginning to wonder if the collision had knocked a screw loose. “Better me than the pavement,” he finally managed, with a mostly natural smile. “Are you hurt?” 

“I don’t think so,” she said, checking her hands and arms, and dusting off the thigh of her jeans where she’d landed on the pavement. “No damage.”

“Good.” His phone buzzed and he checked it and sighed, falling back against the bench in frustration. 

“Everything okay?” Marinette asked, frowning. 

Luka sighed again but gave her a reassuring smile as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, it just looks my lunch date’s been cancelled, my sister can’t make it.” 

“Do you want to do it with me?” Marinette asked, and as Luka looked at her, startled, she went pale, and then red almost at once. “Oh my—I meant lunch! Do you want to grab lunch? Since you’re free and I’m thirsty—hungry! I mean it is hot and I need a drink and—shit, clearly I need something because my brain is totally malfunctioning.” She buried her face in her hands and gave a little moan. 

Her brain wasn’t the only one malfunctioning. Luka swallowed hard, trying to parse everything he’d just heard with the part of his mind that didn’t live in the gutter, but unfortunately it seemed most of it was at least visiting at the moment. Before he could make much progress, Marinette took a deep breath, took her hands off her face, and looked at him squarely. “Sorry, let me try that again. Can I buy you lunch as thanks for helping me out?” she asked, her face still red but appearing otherwise calm. 

“Ah, sure,” Luka answered before he could really think it through. “Sure, why not? Although you don’t really need to thank me, what was I going to do, leave you lying on the sidewalk to get trampled?” 

Marinette smiled. “Still. I nearly knocked you down, you had to pick up my stuff out of the street, and carry me around, and you fixed my laces. The least I can do is buy you a sandwich or something. Besides, now that you’ve mentioned food I’m kind of starving. Were you planning on somewhere close by?”

“Jules and I were just going to a little place a couple of blocks over. It’s—it’s not much, barely more than a food stand honestly, so if you’d rather do something else—”

“No, no, that sounds good!” Marinette actually looked excited about it, which Luka couldn’t really understand. She’d probably eaten at the best places in the city. Even divorced she probably had more money to her name than Luka had ever touched in his entire life. Hadn’t Adrien said she was Gabriel’s head designer? The phrase out of his league suddenly leapt to mind. Except, wait, he wasn’t trying to date her, he reminded himself. She was a client. 

Well, technically, Adrien was the client, but...no. Just, no.

As they walked Luka cursed his natural urge to touch; he kept finding his fingers on her upper arm or her shoulder and snatching them back as he guided her to the little food shop that he and Juleka liked. It really was just a little hole in the wall sandwich place, it didn’t even have any real seating, so he and Marinette ended up finding another bench to sit on as they ate. 

“Wow, this is really good,” Marinette exclaimed, catching a bit of sauce on her thumb and licking it off. Luka glanced at her just in time to catch the flick of her tongue and the flash of the ladybug, and he bit down on his sandwich a little harder than necessary. “Thanks for telling me about this place.” She wrinkled her nose and leaned towards him a bit, as if she were telling him a secret. “Gabriel would’ve shit a brick if he knew I was eating at a place like this, in public no less. Makes everything taste better.”

“Don’t mention it,” Luka laughed in incredulous surprise. “Any day I can make Gabriel Agreste roll in his grave is a good day.” 

“Ugh, that man,” Marinette shook her head, taking another bite. “If only he’d died sooner.” She flushed and covered her mouth with her fingers. “I mean…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get no argument from me,” Luka chuckled. “I couldn’t stand him, and the feeling was very much mutual.” 

Marinette cocked her head at him. “How did you get to know Adrien? We were together for so long, I’m surprised I never met you before.”

“Music events,” Luka shrugged. “I didn’t see him regularly, really, just every few months. He was always really nervous and I hated sitting still in those damn awful suits they made me wear for recitals, so we’d run into each other pacing the halls and get to talking.” He shook his head. “Listening to Adrien perform back then was painful, it was like listening to a robot. Soulless, you know? I kept thinking what a waste, to spend all that time practicing and in the end all you got was that. We talked a lot wandering those halls, at first just about music, and then about a lot of other things, including his dad. After that, I started to understand why his music sounded the way it did.”

Marinette gave him a knowing look. “And you tried to help, didn’t you?”

“I—yeah, I did,” Luka chuckled. “I tried to help him feel the music. Eventually I invited him to be part of a band I was in at the time, tried to show him what music could really be like, you know, but he only got to come for a couple practices before the old man brought the hammer down. We kept in touch off and on, but we had to keep it quiet.” Luka rolled his eyes. “I’m a terrible influence, you see.” He gave a general gesture that included his dyed hair, pierced ears, tattooed arms, and general punk aesthetic.

Marinette made a sympathetic noise, her index finger bending down to rub the ladybug tattoo absently. 

Luka sighed. “Heaven forbid anybody teach his perfect little robot how to actually feel something while he played. Adrien did learn it somewhere along the line, but I’m not sure it was from me.” Luka’s forehead creased as he ran the memories through his mind. “I think he got together with you pretty shortly after Gabriel pulled him out of the band, now that I think about it. We didn’t see each other much over the next few months, Gabriel was paying too much attention. Eventually I think he just forgot about me since Adrien was back on the straight and narrow.”

“That sounds like Gabriel,” Marinette sighed, and then shook her head as if clearing it. “By the way, is your sister okay? I mean, I don’t mean to pry, it’s just, you said she cancelled on you, but I didn’t think to ask if anything was wrong.”

“Oh, she’s...fine,” Luka said, a little reluctantly, and then sighed heavily. “She and her wife had a baby very recently, and it’s been kind of tough on them both. I guess she just didn’t feel like she could leave them this morning.” Luka tapped a foot restlessly. “To be honest, it’s been rough for the whole family for a while now. My mother—our mother, she...passed away, about a year and a half ago, and I took it pretty hard, so Juleka’s had a lot on her shoulders between dealing with me and her pregnant wife, not to mention how the loss affected her. I really wanted to start making it up to her and at least get her out of the house for a little bit, but I guess today’s just not the day.” 

“That’s such a difficult time,” Marinette said sympathetically, crumpling up her empty sandwich wrapper and making a fairly impressive shot into a nearby trash bin. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” Luka glanced at her, and then away. He hated those words most of the time, but at least Marinette sounded sincere. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you to lose her, but I do know that a baby is a big change for everyone, even if you think you’re prepared and you have all the support in the world. Oh!” She held up a finger, and started digging in her bag. “Actually I have something that might help a little bit.” She pulled out a couple of envelopes out of her bag and offered it to him. Luka put aside his own trash and wiped his hands quickly on a napkin before taking them. “I used to get these all the time,” she said, as Luka’s eyes widened slightly reading them over. “Less these days, but still more than I want to mess with. There’s always some spa or other offering something to me, because of my position at Gabriel and as the former Mrs. Agreste.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I like a spa day as much as the next girl, but I don’t know, it just feels gross being offered stuff like this so they can brag about how they kept me young and fresh for the runway shows. Your sisters are welcome to use them. I know a good sitter if you need one.” 

“This—Marinette this is a really nice place, are you—are you sure?” The cards in his hands were probably worth two hundred euros each, easy. “Surely there’s someone else you would rather give them to?”

Marinette smiled and leaned over, covering his hands with her own. “Nobody that needs a day off as much as your sisters. And it’s not like I earned them, you know? It’s all for Gabriel and Adrien, not for me. I’d much rather your sisters get a break.” She sighed and got to her feet. “I have to get going, I have some meetings this afternoon that I can’t miss, but thanks for having lunch with me! I feel much less ready to murder interns now.” She hunched her shoulders slightly. “I probably should pick up something yummy for them as an apology for being so snappy this morning.” 

“Right,” Luka said absently, still rather stunned. “Marinette, are you really sure, I mean, thank you, very much, I just...um…” Marinette giggled when he just continued to stare. “Careful, you’ll catch flies.” She winked at him as he shut his mouth quickly, and it felt like her ladybug was laughing at him as she waved goodbye.

She got a few steps away and then turned around again, and he could have sworn she was blushing. “I’ll see you Tuesday? It’s my turn to bring Louis.”

“Yeah,” Luka said numbly, a little too late. “See you then.”

Marinette just gave him one more bright smile before taking a step backwards and catching her heel on an uneven place in the sidewalk. Luka winced but she managed to catch herself, and he caught a glimpse of her red face before she turned and power-walked away. She’s funny, he thought to himself with a smile, carefully putting away the spa certificates in an inside pocket of his vest. And generous. Kind and thoughtful. Hot, hell yes, but still cute. No wonder Adrien married her so young. If I’d met a girl like that back then, I wouldn’t have let her go either. 

***

By Tuesday afternoon, Luka was reasonably sure he had his shit together and his head mostly on straight, right up until Marinette and Louis showed up at his door and it turned out he couldn’t even look at Marinette right away. “Hi, Louis,” Luka exchanged a fistbump with the boy. “Ready to work?”

“Yes, sir,” Louis chirped, and then Luka’s eyes shifted up. She was back in her designer business suit with her hair carefully done, perfectly elegant and poised and untouchable. The consummate business woman.

“Marinette,” he greeted, as evenly as he could. “Nice to see you. No worse for wear?”

“Hi,” she smiled, and damn if he wasn’t getting just a little bit obsessed with that ladybug tattoo as she gave him an odd little wave and smoothed her hair self-consciously. “No, I was fine. Not even a bruise! You? I mean, of course you’re probably fine, but I did almost knock you down—”

“Mom, you’re being weird,” Louis whispered, and Luka had to look away to hide his smile. She might look like a business woman, but she still acted like the fluttered woman from the market.

“Hush, you,” Marinette muttered, face pink. She looked up at Luka and turned a little pinker. “Um, do you know of a coffee shop or something nearby where I can work? I have some things I really need to get done and I don’t want to waste more time in the car than I have to, so I thought I could just find somewhere close. If you know of anything.”

“I do,” Luka answered with a slow smile, “But you’re welcome to work here.” He gestured towards his living room. “Or at the table in the kitchen, if you prefer.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on your private space,” Marinette said, holding up her hands, and there was the ladybug again. “A coffee shop is fine.”

Luka shrugged, eyebrows raising slightly. “It’s not intruding if you’re invited, but by all means, do whatever you’re comfortable with. There’s a shop around the corner. Honestly their coffee isn’t very good, at least not to my taste, but it’s a comfortable place to work. Or—” he swept his arm again toward his living room. “Make yourself at home. Take your pick. Come on, Louis, let’s get started.” He led the boy down the hall to the studio. 

With the music as a distraction, he quickly forgot about Marinette until the lesson was over, and when he walked out of the studio with Louis, he had to choke back a laugh. 

Marinette was sitting on his couch with her laptop across her knees and a bluetooth headset blinking in her ear, but her head had fallen back and she was snoring lightly. Her hands rested slack against her keyboard, twitching slightly. Luka covered his smile with his hand and Louis giggled. 

“She’s been working too hard again,” Louis whispered. He looked up at Luka hopefully. “Can we let her sleep?”

Luka sighed. “I wish we could, but I don’t know her schedule or what kinds of things she needed to do today, so it’s probably best if you go ahead and wake her up.” He patted Louis’ shoulder. “Sorry.”

Louis heaved a kid-sigh and trudged over to his mother. He tugged at her arm. “Maman.” Marinette whined, and Luka bit his lip against his amusement. She was too cute. 

Louis tugged harder, shaking her lightly. “Maman, wake up.”

“Not yet, Louis, it’s too early. Come rest with Maman,” Marinette slurred, wrapping her arm around Louis and pulling him down against her. 

“Maman!” Louis shot a pleading look at Luka, who couldn’t help chuckling. Louis glared at him. “You were the one who said I had to wake her up. Quit laughing and help me.”

“All right, all right,” Luka put up his hands, still chuckling, and went to Marinette’s other side. The ottoman made leaning over her awkward from that position so he sat next to her and took hold of her shoulder, shaking gently. “Marinette. Wake up, honey.” He winced slightly. That probably wasn’t appropriate. She stirred, but didn’t quite wake. Luka shook her again. “Marinette.” 

She rolled her head towards him with a soft “Hmm?” and her eyes blinked open sleepily.  God, she’s cute.

“You fell asleep,” he told her softly. She blinked those beautiful eyes a couple more times before the realization sank into her brain, and she shot up off the couch, and then promptly lost her balance as her shins hit the ottoman. Louis caught her laptop as it slid off her lap. Luka lunged and got an arm around her waist and a hand on her forearm. “Easy, easy,” he soothed, trying to steady her and hold his own balance at the same time. “You’re okay. You couldn’t have been asleep for long.” He guided her to sit back down. 

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. She looked at Louis and then back at Luka. “The lesson’s over?” 

“All done,” Luka nodded. 

“I’m so sorry to impose.” She checked the time. “Um, the driver should be here shortly.” 

Luka shrugged. “It’s no trouble. Louis is my last student for today and I don’t need to be anywhere.”  He looked at Louis and tilted his head toward the row of guitars. “You want to pick another one?” Louis had been curious, so they usually spent a few minutes going over whichever guitar model he wanted to look at that week while they waited for the car. These were Luka’s personal instruments, and he didn’t normally let students touch them, but Louis was clean and careful, and Luka couldn’t refuse in the face of the boy’s enthusiasm.

Louis brightened and went over to the row of guitars, chewing his lip thoughtfully. Luka chuckled at his serious expression, and he heard Marinette giggle at the same time. The two adults shared an amused look. 

“Can you show me this one?” Louis pointed.

“Sure.” Luka picked up the classical guitar, checked that it was in tune, and set it in Louis’ hands. Luka showed Louis how to hold it, positioning his hands, and described how it differed both from the bass and the steel-string acoustic that he’d tried before. Without prompting, Louis positioned his fingers into the chord Luka had shown him the previous week, and strummed.

Luka grinned. “Not bad, piano man.”

Louis giggled, and offered it back to him. “I like this one,” Louis said, “Can you play something on it? Please,” he added hastily, glancing at his mother.

Luka took the guitar and sat down on the couch, positioning it in his lap. He played a simple tune, Louis’ eyes following his fingers curiously. Then a wicked idea came to him and he grinned, fingers already moving to his purpose as he darted a glance at Marinette. 

“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,” he sang, and nearly lost his composure entirely at Marinette’s dropped jaw and outraged expression. “Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee…”

Louis caught on and giggled, and Marinette shot him a look of betrayal. 

“Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day, lulled by the moonlight, have all passed away—“ He only barely made it to the end of the verse without laughing, and then had to pause, one hand over his lips, to get his chuckling under control. 

“Rude,” huffed Marinette, which only made both Luka and Louis laugh harder. 

Luka kept playing, even as he tried to stifle his laughter. He meant to give her his best puppy eyes in request for forgiveness, “Beautiful dreamer—“ but their eyes locked and as he sang the line, the look became something else. “Queen of my song,” his voice had gone a little husky, but he was committed now. “List while I woo thee with soft melody.” He couldn’t make himself look away. “Gone are the cares of life’s busy throng. Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me.” His hands finished the song almost absently. When the last chord faded, Marinette blushed and looked away. 

Luka cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from her and looking back to Louis, unsurprised to find the boy watching him intently. Louis was a smart kid, empathetic and intuitive. Luka had known that from their first lesson. Dropping his eyes to the guitar, Luka played the first thing that came to mind. “My love is like a red red rose, that’s newly sprung in June, my love is like a melody that’s sweetly played in tune.” 

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Don’t you know any that aren’t mushy?”

Luka chuckled. “It’s a romantic instrument.” He nudged Louis with his elbow. “Like the piano.” He played a few more bars, and sighed. “My mother used to sing that one when I was a kid,” Luka said a little thickly, a sudden sense of loss sweeping over him. He cleared his throat, and felt a hand press his shoulder. He looked into soft blue eyes and his breath caught for a moment. 

“It’s lovely that you can remember her that way,” Marinette said quietly.

Luka cleared his throat again. “Yeah. She left a pretty strong legacy behind. This is the first time I’ve sung it since…I don’t know why I picked it now.”

Marinette sat down on the ottoman, her knees almost touching his. “Can you play a little more? Only if you want to.”

Luka complied, if only to keep from breaking down. “As fair art thou my bonnie lass,” he sang softly, but heavy with emotion, and then his years of performance betrayed him and he made the mistake of looking up into her face, “So deep in love am I—” His throat seized up for a moment as their eyes locked. Oh, shit, he thought, heart racing. He tore his gaze away, swallowing. “And I will love thee still my dear,” he managed, “Till all the seas run dry.” Luka shook his head, putting the guitar aside quickly. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“That’s okay. It was beautiful.” Marinette reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I hope someday you’ll be able to play the whole thing again.”

Luka nodded, his gaze still on the carpet as he tried to get a grip on the conflicting emotions swirling around in his gut. 

“I like that one,” Louis said again, only a little stiffly. “The guitar, I mean.”

“Me too,” Luka wiped his eyes with his thumb and smiled, looking at him. “It’s my favorite after the electric. It’d suit you if you’d like to give it a try.”

Louis frowned. “I play piano.”

Luka chuckled. “So do I. You can play more than one. You’re allowed to love more than one instrument.”

Louis' eyes flicked between Luka and Marinette, and then he looked at the floor as he shook his head. “I play piano.”

Luka got the hint. “Okay.”

“The driver’s here,” Marinette burst out, looking at her phone, clearly relieved. “Time to go, Louis.” She held out her hand to Luka. “Thanks for letting me work in your home.”

“My pleasure,” he said, standing and taking her hand, squeezing it gently rather than shaking it. “Don’t work too hard. Louis worries about you.” He smiled. “And you can’t be your best creative self if you're exhausted.” She blushed adorably and dropped his hand like it burned her. 

“Yes, well, um...thank you. Bye.”

“Mom,” Louis whispered, taking her hand. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m always weird,” she hissed back. 

Luka looked away to hide his smile, then put the guitar on the stand. He picked up Marinette’s briefcase and laptop bag and motioned her towards the entry. “Shall we?” 

“Right, yes,” Marinette said quickly, and Louis rolled his eyes and tugged her down the hall. Luka followed with Marinette’s things. He walked them all the way to the car. “Thank you,” Marinette said breathlessly as she took her bag. 

“My pleasure,” Luka said again, and she looked up at him for a moment and all he saw was blue, blue, blue, how could anyone’s eyes be so blue. 

He kept it together long enough to say goodbye and get back inside, but only barely. Luka shut the door and put his back to it, sliding down to the floor and putting his head in his hands. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “This can’t be happening.” This had disaster written all over it. He couldn’t possibly be falling in love with Adrien’s ex-wife. 

But he was. Oh God, he was. And somehow he’d sung her his mother’s song and he missed his mom so much and now he was six different kinds of fucked up and it was a good thing Louis was his last lesson for the day, because he wasn’t sure he’d be getting up off the floor anytime soon.

Luka fumbled his phone out of his pocket and dialed, holding it up to his ear as he tangled his fingers in his hair and rested his forehead on his knees.

“Hey, Luka, what’s up?”

“Hey Jules.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing major, anyway, just...sad. Do you think I could come over tonight? I’d really like to see my girls.”

“Of course,” Juleka replied, and he kind of hated the softening of her usual cutting tone. It made him feel even more pathetic. “Are you—do you need me to come home now?”

“No,” Luka said quickly. “No, I can wait until you’re off work.”

“Okay,” Juleka sighed. “If you’re sure. I’ll be home at six, but if you need to, you can go on over, you know Rose will be there.” 

“I don’t want to bother her,” Luka shook his head. “I know she’s been struggling emotionally since she had the baby, I don’t want to bring her down any worse. I’ll wait for you. I probably need a little time to get my head on straight anyway.”

“Okay, but you know we’re there if you need us, right?” Juleka sounded worried and Luka winced. 

“I promise, Jules, I’m okay. Just...some things got a little heavy today, and I started playing mom’s song without even thinking about it and it just kind of hit me like a truck, that’s all. I promise I’m okay this time.”

“Okay, bro,” Juleka sighed. “I gotta go, okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thanks Jules. Bye.” He set the phone down on the floor next to him and leaned his head back on the door.

He didn’t like to say he had taken his mother’s death harder than Juleka; they were a close-knit family and they all felt the loss. Their grief just looked different. Juleka had Rose and now their daughter, and she couldn’t afford to fall apart all at once, so she did it in little pieces spread out over time. Luka had commitments he had to keep, and he had, but he’d had a lot more freedom to be crushed by the weight of losing his mother and the boat he’d grown up in. He put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of his face, blowing out a breath. 

Now he had a new problem. He was falling for Marinette. Maybe had fallen already. Probably was doomed the moment he opened the door that first day and forgot how to breathe. And as he sat there and admitted it to himself, the logical next question presented itself:

What are you going to do about it?

The smart thing would be to do nothing. She was his student’s mother and his friend’s ex-wife. He didn’t see her outside of work except for that one time. He could ignore it, write a few songs about it and move on. Maybe go on some dates to take his mind off it. Juleka had been bugging him to go out again.

The thought of dating again made him sigh. The whole cycle of dating just exhausted him. He led something of a double life, mild-mannered music teacher by day and rock guitarist by night, and it felt like he was always disappointing the people he dated eventually, because he didn’t care about the conventional definitions of success. Luka wasn’t ambitious; he didn’t need to be a rock star or a virtuoso. Music had always been about connection for Luka. He liked playing small venues and he liked teaching his students. At the same time, he loved playing his own music, he loved playing with the band, and he wasn’t about to give that up either. Introverted by nature, dealing with his kids and clients and crowds already wore him out—usually in a good way, a ready to recharge and go to bed at the end of the day way. Add dating into that though, and...ugh. 

Luka couldn’t remember the last he’d been excited to go out with someone. What was the point? How could you connect with someone when you spent the whole day dreading the experience? So he just...stopped. Dating for the sake of dating, anyway. He’d always thought when he met someone that made him think it’d be worth it, he’d try again.

Lately Luka had started to entertain the thought that he had Juleka and Rose and his niece and his music kids, and maybe that should just be enough for him. And it...sort of was. Sometimes. 

But Marinette...she would be worth it. He wanted to go out with her, he wanted to know her better. The thought of holding her, kissing her, sent a visceral longing through him he hadn’t felt since his last serious relationship. And...she’d seemed a little bit into him too. Attracted to him, at least. Maybe there was a chance, if he was willing to take it, but...

Luka slid his hands down his face and stared over his fingertips into his empty apartment.

***

It was hard, waiting for Juleka to get out off work, and Luka was knocking on their door before Juleka had even had time to change out of her work clothes. He planted himself on the couch and fidgeted until she came back. 

“Sorry,” Juleka said, handing him a soda. “Rose doesn’t want to drink while she’s nursing so we don’t have any beer.”

“It’s fine,” Luka sighed. “Probably the last thing I need right now anyway.” He looked longingly at the baby carrier strapped to Juleka’s chest. Luka’s heart eased a bit just looking at her. “Mind if I hold her for a bit?” 

Juleka smiled, took Angelique out of the baby carrier, and handed her over carefully.  Luka grinned down at the scrunched up little face. “Hey, you,” he cooed. “How’s my best girl?” 

Angie’s newborn-blue eyes were squinty and unfocused, but she turned her head towards him, wiggling in her wrap. Luka sighed and murmured “I wish Mom could have seen her.”

Juleka raised her eyebrows. “Is that really why you sounded so messed up when you called? Missing Mom?” 

“Some of it,” Luka sighed again. “Hang on, I’m moving out of smacking range before I tell you this one.” He slid to the far end of the couch.

“What did you do,” Juleka groaned, letting her head fall back against the couch. “Damnit, Luka.”

“I haven’t even said anything!”

“Fine, then say it so I can get on with complaining about what an idiot you are.”

Luka eyed her for a minute before admitting, “It’s a girl.”

“Damnit, Luka!”

“Real encouraging, Jules,” Luka snapped, getting a little irritated. Angie made a fussy noise and he automatically began rocking her, making a gentle shushing noise near her ear.

“So,” Juleka sighed, when Angelique was quiet again, “Lay it on me.”

Luka told her the whole story, as honestly as he could manage. How Adrien had come to him for help. How he’d met Marinette. How he’d reacted to meeting Marinette. How she was sweet and pretty and kind, and even though he hadn’t known her very long, but—

“You never know them very long,” Juleka muttered. “That’s your problem. If you would go out and meet some real people, make some friends, you might have better luck.”

Luka didn’t bother answering. That was an old argument. It was something Luka had accepted about himself that Juleka never quite had. Most of the time, he felt an instant connection, or none at all. 

“Well,” Juleka said slowly, picking at a loose thread on the battered couch. “What are you going to do about it?”

Luka sighed. He’d been stewing over that all day. “She’s Adrien’s ex-wife.”

“Emphasis on the ex.”

“He’d probably be really hurt,” Luka mused, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I know the divorce wasn’t his idea.” Juleka didn’t respond right away and Luka frowned. “You’re making the face.”

“What face?” 

“The face you make when you’re trying to be tactful,” Luka said wryly. “Just spit it out, Jules, you suck at tact.”

“First, bite me, and second, they’re divorced.” Juleka shrugged. “She left him. Unless you think they might get back together—” Luka shook his head. “Then I know there’s probably some stupid bro code bullshit but—” Juleka made a gesture that clearly showed her opinion of that. “You’d hate yourself if you missed out on something great for such a stupid reason. He really doesn’t have any right to be upset. Marinette’s the one who decides who she wants to be with, if anyone. Besides, you and Adrien hadn’t seen each other in years until he called needing your help.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re not friends,” Luka protested. “You’re so desperate for me to be in a relationship that you’ll justify anything,” he grumbled, rubbing his cheek lightly against Angie’s soft hair.

“If you believed that you wouldn’t be here asking me for advice.” She paused. “And I’m only desperate for you to be happy. I just know you’re lonely. It’d be one thing if you were really happy on your own but we both know you’re not. And you know Mom would tell you to go for it if she were here.”

Luka scowled. “Low, Jules.”

Juleka spread her hands. “Disagree with me.”

Luka couldn’t because he knew she was right. Anarka had always been a damn the consequences kind of woman, especially when it came to romance. 

“She’s a client,” he pointed out half-heartedly. “It’d be unprofessional to ask her out when I’m working, and I wouldn’t do it in front of the kid anyway. You and I both know how crappy that feels. I feel bad that I let it slip in front of him this afternoon as it is. I’ve only ever seen her the one time outside of work, and that was a fluke.”

“A fluke, or an opportunity?” Juleka asked him, raising her eyebrows slightly. “Maybe you should see if the universe throws you another one. Do what you do best, go with the flow, and then seize the moment when it comes.”

“What if it doesn’t come?” Luka asked moodily. 

“Then maybe it wasn’t meant to be,” Juleka shrugged. “Or maybe you’re actually going to have to step up and make something happen. Your call, really.” She gave a lopsided smile. “How much faith do you have in the universe right now?”

Luka snorted. “You’re joking, right?” He jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes widened slightly. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“What?” Juleka said.

Luka picked up the call. “Hey Marinette,” he said as casually as he could manage, making sure not to look at Juleka. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Luka, I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said, sounding flustered as usual, “I think I left a folder at your place this afternoon, and I was hoping I could come by and pick it up. Did you see it? It was pink and—well, it was a pink folder, it looks like any other folder except pink, I don’t know what I was trying to—anyway, have you seen it?”

“I haven’t,” Luka said, trying not to laugh. “But I can look for it when I get home.”

“Oh, you’re out—well, of course you’re out, why wouldn’t you be out, I’m stupid—”

Luka grinned in spite of himself, and turned his face away from Juleka’s rising eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m hanging out with my sisters tonight, but I could drop it by your office tomorrow if you like.”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to trouble you, I know you have students and...and whatever, so just let me know what time is good and I’ll come by and pick it up tomorrow?” 

“It wouldn’t be any trouble—” Luka began, and then changed his mind. “But if you’d rather pick it up that’s fine, just let me know when you’re heading over. I’ll look for it when I get home and text you?”

“That’s perfect, thank you,” Marinette said gratefully. “I’m so sorry, God knows what you must think about me after this afternoon as it is, and now I’m—”

“Stop, stop,” Luka said gently. “It’s fine, Marinette. You’re human and Louis said you’ve been working really hard. It’s great to be dedicated but don’t let it burn you out.” He caught the warning look Juleka gave him and broke off the lecture. “Anyway, I don’t think badly about you at all, so—so I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” Juleka rolled her eyes at him and he made a face at her that meant shut up. 

“Right, tomorrow. Um, goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight, Marinette,” Luka said, and hung up quickly, blowing out a breath. 

Juleka smirked at him. “Smooth.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he muttered, chucking a throw pillow at her.

“Hey! Don’t curse in front of the baby, asshole!” she scowled, and then winced at a shriek of “Juleka!” from the doorway.

Luka grinned smugly. “Hey Rose.” Juleka subtly flipped him off where Rose couldn’t see.

“Hi Luka.” Rose leaned over the couch and kissed his temple, and while she greeted Juleka, Luka fished the two spa cards Marinette had given him out of his jacket pocket. 

“I’ve got something for you two,” he said, when they were ready to pay attention to him again. He held up the envelopes and Rose moved to take them from him. She opened one and gaped.

“Luka Couffaine!” she whisper-yelled, falling onto the couch next to him. “You did not spend this kind of money on us.”

“I didn’t, actually,” Luka grinned as Juleka reached to take the card from Rose and read it over. “They were a gift from a client. We were talking, and she said she remembered how hard it was to be a new mom, and that you deserved a day out. As it happens, I agree with her.” 

“But the baby—” Rose began, but Luka leaned over and patted her knee. 

“I can watch her for a day. Come on, Rose, you’ve barely left the house for a month except to go to the grocery store. You guys need some time for yourselves. I promise I can handle her long enough for you guys to go get a pedicure and a massage or whatever.”

“It would be nice,” Rose mused. 

“Is this the same client we were talking about?” Juleka asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Luka admitted.

“Uh-huh.” Juleka pondered that for a moment. “Well, I definitely approve of you dating someone who gives these kinds of gifts.”

Rose’s head whipped around toward him so fast he was surprised she didn’t topple over. “You’re dating someone? Luka! Tell me everything right now!”

Luka glared at Juleka. “You did that on purpose.”

“You should have known I would.”

Luka had to tell the whole story over again, and by the time Rose was done with her interrogation, he was ready to leave. He gave back the baby (who clearly needed a change at that point anyway), kissed both his sisters, and headed back to his own place.

When he got home, a quick search of the living room turned up Marinette’s folder between the couch and ottoman. 

“All right, universe,” he muttered under his breath, looking at the pastel sign from the gods in his hands. “You better not be fucking with me here.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

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Inspiration music for this chapter: 

There’s a billion versions of Beautiful Dreamer (written by Stephen Foster) but here are a few of my favorites:

My Love is Like a Red Red Rose was originally a poem that many artists have put to music, but below is the version I specifically used for inspiration. You can read the original poem by Robert Burns here.

#quickspins #beautiful dreams #lukanette #this is a long one but I didn't want to break it #oh no he's hot #these two dorks #you know i love me some couffaine sibling teasing #jumping in with both feet #and of course juleka has to give him a hard time #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics