Where Is This From. BC I NEED IT

where is this from. BC I NEED IT

Chris Redfield when he finds out you've been eating his banana ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

The Sound of Us

You've always wondered about the peculiar sounds that come from your neighbor's apartment, right next to yours. One day, after a breakup, he shows you.

a/n: for the lovely anon who requested it! i hope you like it 🥰🥰🥰 also its not even proofread so if i need to come back to it bc ur not satisfied lmk 🥰

tw: i mean theres suggestive content but i dont really write nsfw... do with that what you will 🤨

wc: 3k

Sometimes you wonder just what goes on in your neighbor’s life. After yet another series of thumping, creaking and other assorted sounds, concern isn’t the only thing on your mind. When Leon first moved in and you knocked on his door to introduce yourself, he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk on his face, and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re straightforward, aren’t you?” he had mused. “Not many girls have the confidence to come up to me like this.”

“That- what?” Leon closed the door gently and left you there, flushed in the flurrying air. You think the only time you interacted with him after that was at the washroom down the street, collectively housing all the bathrooms and showers for the entire complex.

But these sounds have been a repeating occurrence. And you felt pity for him. He was rarely home, you knew that from the sounds. His car would pull up once every two weeks, you would hear the noises, but they eventually stopped. And the door opens and someone walks out, probably Leon leaving again.

Safe to say, you didn’t bother yourself with his personal business. You barely knew him, and what you did know you didn’t like. So you both resigned to your respective lives, shifting back to two separate corners of the world.

<><><>

Any ounce of sympathy you felt towards Leon immediately disappears once the noises shift to a later time, one night, long after the sun’s lost beneath the horizon. And they’re louder. You stuff your head under your pillow, pressing down on your head until you feel dizzy, but you can’t block the sound of his voice.

It’s muffled and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but someone’s responding. If he’s going to have a conversation when everyone’s sleeping, he could at least have the courtesy of being quiet.

Wanting to spare everyone’s comfort, you tug the blanket tight around you and waddle over to his room. The golden number glints mischievously at you, as if amused that you’re standing outside Leon’s door, knocking vigorously, wondering when the hell it’ll open-

A slow creak signals the room door opening, and you open your mouth, still half asleep and wanting to get back to the warmth of your bed.

“Man, if you’re going to yap this loud, take your conversation to a bar,” you grumble, dragging your eyes up from Leon’s bare feet. You expect him to be dressed in a loose t-shirt and baggy jeans, like always.

Not that you watch him. You just know this from the rare instances you see him.

But it’s different this time. And with rapid clarity, you realize that your concern was misguided. Leon stands in front of you, breath coming in soft pants, no shirt, no pants, and you suppose you should thank those above you for the fact he’s at least wearing boxers, but that doesn’t conceal anything.

Your hand flies to your eyes, automatically. You hear Leon let out a raspy chuckle before asking, “Need something, sweet pea?”

“Uh, well, keep it down!” you say exasperatedly, taking a step back and pressing your fingers harder against your face. “I can’t sleep!”

“Why’re you listening to us?” he replies calmly, a lazy smile audible in his voice. “You want in?”

“Ew!” You shake your head, turning away to face the railing, removing your hand and blinking rapidly. “All this time, I thought you were…”

“You were thinking about me?”

Does the air around you feel colder? September’s a mild month, isn’t it? You long for warmth, for the feeling of arms tangled around you, wet lips whispering sweet praise in your ears.

Right. Anyways. Is that what you heard? What you mistook for arguing?

“Yes,” you admit, hoping you don’t sound apologetic, because that’s the last thing he needs; something to fuel his ego. “I was worried.”

A dry chuckle. “Well, I’m flattered, but you don’t need to worry about me, honey. I’m just fine.”

“I can see that,” you say flatly. “I’ll get going now.”

“I think you should,” he says, voice strained as if he’s looking over his shoulder. You struggle to hear the background of his apartment, shadowed by the occasional car racing past, but you can hear the whines of another woman.

Without another word, you turn and march double time to your apartment. The door opens without protest. You wish it did, wish it willed you to turn around.

When you’re huddled in your bed, you catch the way everything seems a bit duller, a bit lonelier, as if you’re missing something you didn’t know you were missing.

<><><><>

The shower hums as you toss your head back, lathering shampoo in your hands. You know that it probably isn’t healthy to wash your hair three times in a single week, but this morning you woke up and ran a hand over your scalp and immediately recoiled.

You think someone on the internet said it best - “Enough grease on my hair to make french fries.” It’s not funny, but it made you giggle when it came up on your page.

Steaming water stings your eyes, so you can’t see who’s walking inside as the door clicks open. You pray it’s someone with conditioner, because you forgot yours back at the apartment.

Cheap rent comes with its drawbacks, you knew that. But you took the room anyway, desperate, and so far, after three months, the bathroom situation wasn’t too bad. Most of the guys respected the stalls, keeping their eyes down, only exchanging pleasantries.

Faintly, you register that this shouldn’t really be legal, but since you haven’t had any problems, you suppose that this would suffice for another few weeks, just until you moved back in with your old roommates.

You scrub your eyes, then blink hard, stepping out of the range of the water. The stalls only come up to your neck and reach down to your ankles, which you thought wasn’t too bad compared to other washrooms in the area.

“Hey, would you happen to have conditioner?” You ask your question while keeping your eyes ahead, wanting to be courteous of their privacy.

“Why?” The voice that responds isn’t one you want to hear. Immediately, involuntarily, you snap your head towards Leon, hair whipping to the other side, all thoughts of respect out of the window.

“Why do you think, genius?” you retort sarcastically. “I’m going to drink it, obviously.”

“Knock yourself out,” he replies with a soft chuckle, eyes cutting sideways to look at you. They dip down before he winks, handing you the bottle.

Despite the heat of the water, you flush, praying you can just play it off as the water being too hot. You rub some of the easily foaming conditioner into your roots, running your fingers through the slick strands, the sickly sweet floral scent overwhelming your senses.

You’re just finishing a prayer that he doesn’t start any small talk when he says, “You know, when you showed up yesterday, I didn’t expect it to be you.”

You don’t respond, hoping he takes it as a sign you don’t want to continue the conversation, but he assumes the exact opposite and continues.

“My girlfriend wouldn’t stop asking me questions about you. She thought I was cheating on her.” He lets out a sigh, one far too troubled for his character. “She broke up with me this morning. Hear any of that?”

“Nope,” you respond triumphantly, but quickly realize it’s the wrong tone for the subject at his dejected, frustrated expression.

“And you know what’s bothering me?” he asks quietly, voice hard to hear over the steady streams of water dripping from both your bodies to the slightly moldy tiles.

“Mhm?” You think, through the haze of steam slowly clouding your thoughts, that the least you can do for this poor, heartbroken boy, is to at least listen to him.

“What she said… she’s right,” he says, turning his head so your gazes lock. His eyes are cloudy, the most dreamy blue-gray you’ve ever seen, like the sky after a rainstorm. You wonder if you stare hard enough, you can see a rainbow reflected in them. “She wasn’t the right one.”

“And who is?” you say, slightly amused, because now his eyes have shifted to deep pools of regret and determination, and the slant of his hair across his forehead, strands blooming across his cheeks, rosy and full, gracing the corner of his too-quick mouth.

“You are.” His eyes don’t leave yours, rendering you breathless. “God, I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that. It took her to realize I want you.”

“That sounds extremely creepy,” is your first reaction. What else can you say? It’s not you don’t see what he’s saying, you understand fully, and it’s not like you didn’t think about him, especially when you saw him working out at the same gym you went too, and his shirt had ridden up, exposing smooth skin that kept your eyes on him, trailing down until you realized exactly where you were and what you were doing.

Safe to say, you haven’t been to the gym since that day.

“I know,” is all he says back, huffing a sigh. It doesn’t sound quite like relief, but it doesn’t sound like disappointment either. More like hope, hope that you might feel the same way.

“How do I know you’re not kidding?”

Leon arches an eyebrow. “You need… proof?”

You mirror his movement. “You’re confessing to me in the washroom?”

He scoffs. “Oh, is that your problem?”

“Expected a little more romance,” you reply.

“What, fuck you on a bed of rose petals?” he jests. “Your standards are crazy.”

“They sure are if my standards are you,” you seethe. “Honestly, you’re such a dick, I don’t know why I even bother.”

“I can be nice,” he insists. “If you deserve it.”

“What have I ever done not to deserve it?”

“Good question.” Leon goes quiet after that, and you finish rinsing out the conditioner, having let it lay on your back for a few minutes while you wash the rest of your body. Satisfied, you wrap yourself in a tower and gingerly tap the floor in front of you with your toe.

“What are you doing?” he queries, snickering as you yelp when your foot slides away from you. You regain your composure and cross your arms.

“I don’t want a concussion,” you explain, gesturing to the slippery floor. “The last thing I need is medical attention.”

Leon lets out a fragmented laugh. “Alright then, princess.” He holds out a hand, fingers curling around yours as you accept the help gratefully, stepping over to the bench.

You note his eyes don’t leave you as you unlock the small lockers that were offered to hold your belongings. He stands besides you, seemingly fumbling with the key to his own.

“Hello?” You wave a hand in front of his face and he startles, coming back to reality. You tug on a loose t-shirt, some underwear and a pair of snug shorts. You unravel the towel around you, feeling the loss of friction against your skin.

Do you miss it? Yes.

But it doesn’t feel quite as empty when you know that Leon’s eyes are drinking up every part of your exposed body. Every time you pack for a shower, you never bring a bra because what’s the point? You never wore one around the apartment anyways, and you never encountered anyone on the short walk across the road.

Even if you did, you could just slouch forward and blow out your shirt. Nonchalant was not a very good word to describe you, and you knew that. Maybe some part of you enjoyed slamming the locker door in his face, watching as his eyes trail downward.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you better believe you don’t miss that. The rush of power is intoxicating, the feeling of knowing that he wants you and he can’t have you unless you want him to.

And you do.

<><><>

“Should’ve come in that day,” Leon whispers, breath fanning across your cheek. “I would've kicked her out.”

Your response is delayed as Leon's mouth finds the pulse point on your neck, talented enough to grace only his teeth over it. “You didn't even know me.”

“We weren't strangers,” he murmurs.

“We’re not friends, either.”

“That’s right,” he replies, the broadest grin you've ever seen usurping his glorious, beaming face. “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“When did that happen?” You chuckle, voice hoarse as his fingers trail up, up, up to caress the side of your face.

Leon raises an eyebrow. “Right now.”

“When did I agree to that?”

Leon's hips stutter, as if moving in response to your words. You don't miss the tremor in his voice, the trembling in his hands, but his face is set in grim lines of determination as his hips snap forward, all thoughts of even doubting him gone at his touch.

“When you let me do this to you.”

<><><><>

Afterwards, Leon shifts away from you, and you lose the warmth you so desperately longed for.

You think he's going to kick you out, leave you back where you started, with soft, shy glances and flirty looks.

But looking past the golden blinds that frame his face, still wet, plastered to his full, rosy cheeks and into the open windows that are his eyes, you don't see a rainbow anymore.

You see guilt, deep and true and pooling in the center of his wide, inky eyes. He takes a deep breath, exhaling as if to steady his voice.

“Am I a bad person?” he whispers, half to himself. “For missing her?”

Missing her? “Did you just use me to get over your girlfriend?” You put it blankly, because the hurt hasn't set in yet, so you tilt your head to the side, knowing that if this is how it ends, you won't be the one begging.

“I didn't… no,” he mutters, shaking his head, sounding more confused than before. “I couldn't stop-”

“Thinking about her?” You scoff. “Seriously? You're seriously going to sit here and tell me that you were thinking about her this whole time?”

“Fuck, no!” His fingers twist in his hair, clamping the strands together tightly. “It was only you. I saw nothing but you, god, you're so pretty it hurts.”

“Hurts how, Leon?” you ask, hushed.

“Goddamn it! You know what I mean!”

You place a gentle, tentative hand on his, pressing as if you could absorb some of the tension displayed on his face. “Tell me.”

“What if I never get over her?” His eyes mingle with the pain and anxiety that's all too familiar to you.

You know that the pain of losing someone you love never leaves. And you know that Leon acted on impulse.

Hell, you did the same thing last time your boyfriend broke up with you. You assume it means two bad souls come together to do good, to repent for what they've done.

You know it takes time to weed them out of your heart. You also know something else.

“I can help. I know it's not easy, but if you're willing to let me be there for you,” you say, “I'll do my best to help you let someone new into your heart.”

Leon watches you. “Someone like you?”

You smile. “I hope so.”

His face mirrors yours. “Sounds like a plan.” His expression softens. “Thank you.”

You nudge his shoulder playfully. “Don't get too emotional on me, Kennedy.”

His grin is what convinces you. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

Just when you get him to move closer, getting comfortable, head resting in the crook of his neck as he murmurs sweet nothings to you, the redundant sound of knocking elicits a frustrated groan from Leon as he lazily pulls on a shirt and tugs his shorts on, leaving them hanging low around his hips.

You watch him walk to the door, admiring the man you can now call yours, realizing that the irritation you felt wasn’t really irritation, just jealousy.

When he walks back after a few minutes, he peers at a piece of paper, squinting his eyes as if he can’t believe what he’s reading. He lets out an exasperated sigh and throws the paper onto his desk, sliding back into bed with you.

“Who was it?” you ask, curious.

“The landlord,” he replies vaguely.

“You forget to pay rent or something?” You giggle.

He sighs again. “You won’t believe it.”

“What?”

“The neighbors filed a noise complaint.”

“For… today?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before bursting into laughter. Leon, on the other hand, is mostly unamused, but the sight of you lying bare in his bed, in his apartment, face alight with happiness, he can't smother a smile of his own.

“It wasn’t even music,’” you wheeze, nearly choking, calming down before snickering at you. “You good?”

So with that, he shrugs.

“Hm. I'd rather it be the sound of us anyways.”

hes grumpy bc he didnt win the free trip to the bahamas

he only had two squares left !! so close !

He didnt win

I WILL ADOPT HIM

NO OPPS ALLOWED

just wait until the opps find himh

good luck lil bro

pull up children ill spill life secrets

Fanfiction Questions

Fandom Questions

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in?

2. What is your latest fandom?

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

4. Do you regret getting involved in any fandoms?

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for?

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in.

8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom?

9. What are the best things about your current fandom?

10.  Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in?

Ship Questions for your Current Fandom

11. Who is your current OTP?

12. Who is your current OT3?

13. Any NoTPs?

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs?

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love?

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike?

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

18. What ship have you written the most about?

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking?

Author Questions

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

22. Is there anything you regret writing?

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

24. What fic do you desperately need to rewrite or edit?

25. What’s your most popular fanfic?

26. How do you come up with your fanfic titles?

27. What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries?

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of?

29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not?

30. What inspires you to write?

31. What’s the nicest thing someone has ever said about your writing?

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you?

33. Do you write oneshots, multi-chapter fics or huuuuuge epics?

34. What’s the word count on your longest fic?

35. Do you write drabbles? If so, what do you normally write them about?

36. What’s your favourite genre to write?

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why?

38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs?

39. What is you greatest strength as a writer?

40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing?

Fanfiction Questions

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing:

43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you?

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic?

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

47. Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.net or Tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why?

48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not?

49. Do you care if people comment/reblog your writing? Why/why not?

50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction?

51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! Go!

2 and 31 !!

aww ur so sweet thank you <33

heres my thoughts on this:

2. What is your latest fandom?

well i just got into axel f and before you flame me i really do like the movies i feel like rookie police cops with witty humor and slick tactics will always have a special place in my heart <3333

31: What's the nicest thing someone has ever said about your writing?

wow uhm this is a hard one i've got lots of friends on here and like i adore them trust me but i think i'll have to go with when i showed my writing to this guy and he read it silently and then he looked up and met my eyes and he started crying and we were on the bus mind you so i was extremely concerned for him but he said he actually related to it (he didnt cry like sobbing cry but there were tears :( it was so sad) and i think about that a lot like the point of my writing is half for me and half for you guys :)

THANK YOU SM ILY <3333