#I see some people drawing strands of neon yellow in his hair

[a-hypnos-v]

I have no idea when the full body design’ll be finished but here: have an appetizer before the mane meal

So little info dump: so in my au head-canon thing the narrarator has a physical form, but the thing is is that it’s invisible, specifically his “3d model” in the game is textured with a type of a transparent glass that doesn’t reflect much light.

He can remove the texture or swap it out to whatever his pleasing, but he can also turn on like…the reflection/shiny mode thingy to make it look like normal glass… he turns it on during the staircase ending in the color room, the concept is that he looks ethereal when the colored light reflects off of him and shines through him, kinda like this:

And for the little “human form” thing, it’s my design for when he turns on like the ‘normal’ textures on to his in-game 3d model, but also for my little “human/there is no parable au” where the parable doesn’t exist and Stanley and him are just..two random dudes that meet in an office, in that au the narrarator is slightly colorblind and wears the yellow tinted glasses to help with it, since..I wanted him to Ig lol

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

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[7official7moose7]

How I draw Bruno Madrigal: A tutorial!

Before you say it, yes, I know I draw him way too much. Maybe this’ll come in handy for someone here djhhfjgjg- (plus it’s an excuse to draw him for the millionth time today soooo)

Disclaimer: This post is NOT meant to bash ANYONE for how they draw. It’s just a tutorial on how I draw Bruno, everyone’s style is different!!

Step one: Face shape

I always make sure I have the right face shape down, or else it won’t really look like the character I’m tryna draw (in my eyes at least). Bruno’s face shape is somewhat almond/diamond shaped, just upside down. His cheekbones make little points at the sides 👀

Step two: Nose

I see a lot of people drawing Encanto characters with the wrong nose shape/size (don’t worry, I struggled with this for years lmao), so I tried to make it a bit more simple.

His nose is like an upside down kite shape, like his face except the points are a little lower/closer to the tip!

Step 3: Eyes

Bruno’s eyes are very round, and there isn’t a whole lot of space in between them; I see a lot of fan art with his eyes spaced pretty far apart, so try keeping them closer to the bridge of the nose (I also did this too at first, so don’t fret!!)

I come back to the circles under his eyes later 👁👁

Step 4: Mouth/teeth

Bruno has tooth gaps!! (Teeth gaps? Grammar no exist) the most noticeable one is right up front, but there’s also one round near the back jshsgdjhd

Step 5: Brows

Bruno’s eyebrows have that little crease at the top most of the time, unless his expression is relaxed. In case you can’t read my handwriting: they’re thicker at the beginning, curve up just a bit, and then they taper at the end.

Step 6: Hair

His hair is type 2c I believe (it might be 3a, there’s posts on here about that as well if I’m wrong!!) You can also either go on google or Pinterest to get reference pictures.

Bruno has these two distinct strands that hang into his eyes (I’ve colored them in to point them out) that I absolutely adore drawing! Fun fact: I have the exact same two strands (my hair is either 2b or 2c, I can’t quite remember hfhfhfhgh) that do the exact same thing!!

Step 7. Facial hair

Bruno’s beard (goatee?? It’s kinda both I think???) isn’t exactly a full beard, it’s basically just long stubble lmao

I have a bit of trouble with this for the sole reason that I’m just bad at facial hair hahahaa-

Step 8. Colors

The color palette in the second image is more accurate than the first! I color picked the skin tone to the best of my ability, along with the hair and other parts. For his eyes, I use the shade of purple on a multiply layer, along with the blush. His freckles are just the small light brown next to the white and green for his eyes (in the second image)

Bruno’s hair looks pretty brown right there as well, but thats only because of the highlights (I used a golden yellow, you’ll see in the next image) the colors I used for his hair are the two grays; the lighter one is used for the silver strands, and I always color the two front strands with it. For the rest, I just add random streaks into the darker shade.

With his ruana and undershirt, I kinda just eyeballed the colors (I color picked at first, but altered them just a bit afterwards)

Step 9: Shading/lighting (this is optional!)

This is the finished product! I tweaked the line art just a bit, fixed his nose since I forgot how physics work and forgot that the nose turns up with the smile oops hahaha

I changed the line color to a warm brown for a softer look, and I shaded his eyes with a darker/more saturated green on a multiply layer and then put neon yellow highlights at the bottom on an add layer. I used a dark maroon/brown on a multiply layer as well for the shading and a golden yellow-orange for the highlights on an add layer (I feel Ike I’ve typed “layer” so many times so I’mma just say this rq: I always put shading on multiply and highlights on add!!)

I also put a little shade for his lips since I forgot them too ahahaa,,,

ANYWAYS there you have it!! I’ll post some extras that could also be good examples soon (because sadly I’ve reached the image limit dammit)

Hope this helps!!

[shoutogepi]

Scream for Me

Kaminari Denki

word count : 5.7k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]  

themes : villain!denki, yandere!denki, implied stalking/obsession, DUBCON, coercion, quirk use… denki has a tongue piercing

bio : It’s been two years since your hero best friend fell off the face of the earth, and since then, he’s resurfaced as a prominent villain. You don’t want anything to do with him. So naturally, he comes to you.  

author’s note : this is for bnha bookclub’s bingo event, for which i can now cross off the “hero turned villain” slot ;) once again this fic contains DUBCON so please beware before you continue… also so sorry if denks is OOC in this— i am aware that in canon he does not have a mean bone in his body 

side note: this fic is dedicated to @fanfic-me-up​ , the beautiful bday queen! she deserves the best, so please wish her a happy birthday! also, a great big thanks to @hawks-senseis​ and @boom-bakugou​ for beta’ing <3

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄳eep bass rattles your bones as you step around the glowing dance floor, drunken bodies bumping into your sides carelessly. It’s some electronic song pumping through the speakers and causing your ears to buzz, your tongue sliding over your lip as you make your way back to your tabe. The group you’re with barely even notices your return, your adventure proving victorious as you harbor a sweating glass in each hand. The fruity concoction initially tastes sweet on your tongue, the burn of the alcohol bleeding in afterwards and making your face twist in a bitter scowl. So much for the bartender’s lame attempt at flirting— his promise of “you won’t be able to taste the vodka at all!” falling flat.

Your flavor of the night throws back a shot from the table, the sticky glass clinking loudly as he slams it down. He’s cute enough— your classic type: tall and slender, a sleeve decorating his tan arm with swirls of ink, dark hair hanging over his bright eyes, and pink lip adorned with a silver ring. In your opinion, he’s the hottest of his group, which had joined your pack of girls nearly as soon as you’d entered the threshold.

Yet for some reason, you find yourself restless as he grinds against you, his hands firm atop your hips. Maybe he isn’t as hot as you think… or maybe you’re not trying to score tonight. Ha, as if that could ever be the case. Maybe you’re not drunk enough, or maybe you need to top off with something better than alcohol. Rolling your neck, you place your head on his shoulder, his hands immediately gliding up your torso to pull you closer against him. You can feel his semi through his jeans, and the recognition of it makes you smirk, closing your mascara-framed eyes and allowing him to sway you to the beat.

And you try to enjoy it— you really do.

But still, there’s something off.

There’s this itchy feeling of dread crawling across your skin, spreading over your body and seizing your heart with an icy fist. The poor muscle starts to beat furiously against its sudden confines, your eyes opening and moving to survey your surroundings— feeling like prey about to meet its certain fate.

That’s when you see him.

He’s right by the exit of the club, illuminated by the harsh fluorescent glow of the neon signs on the wall. Physically speaking, you can’t see much of him— he’s all the way across the room in a crowded, dinghy club— barely enough light for you to see his face. And yet, those haunting, golden eyes pierce straight into you. You freeze, bottom lip allowing gravity to take it prisoner, your breath caught midway in your shriveling lungs. The guy you’re dancing with doesn’t seem to notice, only pressing his hips harder into your ass.

It feels like you’re ripping roots from the earth as your feet move on their own accord, first one trembling step— then two. Now that you’re level with him on the main dance floor, he’s swallowed up into the tangling sea of shadowy limbs. You try to push your way over to the exit, but by the time you stumble out of the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.

Whatever kind of buzz you had previously felt is instantly cut short. Trepidation oozes into your veins, chilling your bones and sending shivers all the way to your toes. On one hand, you want to believe in yourself— you’re sure that you’d seen him— but on the other hand, dismissing the sighting of the man would be much easier to do. And you hadn’t seen him in front of you in two years… the thought makes your chest feel tight, torn and bleeding with discomfort.

You miss him so much.

But even if you could see him again, he’s not the same boy you adored anymore… no, that would be impossible. And he could never be here, in this club, either. It might not be the best part of town, but it’s still a bustling spot in the city night life. There’s no way someone with his level of fame could just show up to a popular club like this on a Friday night, undetected.

So you write it off— take the easy way out. You’re drunk, there’s a lot of people here, and you were probably just looking for a reason to get off that guy at the table. That’s all it can be; your mind playing tricks on you. Of course, you hadn’t seen him.

That would be ridiculous.

Impossible.

It’s no surprise you feel sick to your stomach at the very idea of seeing him. Whether it’s because your stomach is filled to the brim with butterflies, or because your body feels shocked— as if his electricity crawls across your skin and makes your hairs stand on end— you’re not sure. Making your way to the back of the club, you somehow find the hallway void of a bathroom line. Never had you been graced with such a blessing, and you quickly make your way toward the door, giddy to be able to have a moment to yourself.

Once you’re inside the room, you take a moment to examine yourself in the mirror. Your hands planted on the countertop, you lean in close, eyes searching your reflection for anything that could be off. You still just don’t feel right, and you’re not sure why. The walls are colored in a dark turquoise hue, the black marble counter opaque and matching the dark stalls behind you. Fingers fidgeting for something to do, you pluck the lipstick out of your comically small purse, lining your lips before blotting the color with a paper towel.

A low wolf whistle splices the still air of the lavatory, echoing lowly on the tiled walls.

Every cell in your body is frozen, your gaze trained on a pair of yellow, slitted eyes over your shoulder. He’s slipping out of one of the stalls, taking his time as he crosses the room only to turn the lock on the door. Your heart starts to beat again at the realization that he’s really here, and that he’s just sealed the two of you in together.

Escape is the only thing on your mind right now, your eyes darting between the door, the vents on the ceiling, and the window that looks just a bit too small for you to wiggle through. Fear begins to bubble into your bloodstream, burning you with its sheer cold, like dry ice on naked skin.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His voice is just like it was before he disappeared, but all signs of his playful, positive attitude are absent. Instead, he sounds almost bored… and there’s this tone to his inflection that feels like cough syrup— thick and sticky, leaving a rancid taste at the back of your tongue.

Poison.

He keeps his distance from you, content to just watch your gaze in the reflection before you. You can’t help but look at him; too terrified that if you look away, he’ll be gone and then there’s no denying you’re crazy. You’ll have to get checked into an asylum or something, because you’re certified insane— nevermind if you’re imagining him— you can’t help but think he looks good. Really good.

Dressed in black from head to toe, he looks like he’s one with the shadows of the night. Even his hair is black now, raven strands perfectly framing his handsome face. The yellow streak in his hair is in the shape of a lightning bolt, colors inverse of what they used to be, when he was a peppy blonde. But those days are long over now, and the snakebite piercings adorning his full lower lip draw you in, much to your dismay. He looks damn good in his distressed jeans, the leather jacket sitting just right on his shoulders. And just like the last time you’d seen him, a tight, black choker sits perfectly on his throat.

“What, hmm? Nothin’ to say, sunshine?” Oh, that name. The term he had so affectionately coined you when you were still just classmates. When you were his best friend.

It takes a moment for you to think, and another for you to actually force the words out of your mouth. “What are you doing here, Denki?” You sound totally breathless, and it’s partly because you are— you’re completely shocked that he’s here, with you, in some nightclub bathroom. The balls he has to be out in public right now…

“And I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he says, lips curled into a displeased frown, and those big, golden eyes trailing up and down your body, assessing you in the same manner you had him. But he doesn’t stare; he’s already looked at you for plenty long. He’s over just simply looking at you. “It’s so good to hear your voice, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to him. After two years of Kaminari Denki dropping off the face of the earth, and more recently appearing on Japan’s ‘Most Wanted’ list instead, he’s come to you out of the blue. How did he know where to find you tonight? Does he have someone watching you? Is he… Does he still have those feelings that he used to pretend didn’t exist?

“Why are you here?” You try again, whispering, like anyone will be able to hear you over the thumping bass outside. But Denki hears you, leisurely stalking over to you.

Whipping around, your trembling fingers grab onto the edge of the countertop. You’ve read the articles, heard the news. You know the things he’s done. The terrible, unspeakable things.

Denki stops a step away from you, tongue glazing over his lip as his eyes rake over your front. A flash of metal between his lips catches your eye, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights before it’s gone.

“To see you, of course.”

He’s close now, and you can see that he’s taller, broader— more muscular than before, even underneath his jacket. His physique distracts you from his words for a moment, softening the devastating blow of fear. Your widening eyes jump up to lock with his, his gaze casting a sinister gleam over your rapidly-heating cheeks.

Denki closes the distance between you, gripping onto the side of the counter and leaning down to hang his face in front of yours. He smells slightly like smoke, stale cologne wafting onto you as his hips gently meet yours, trapping you against the sink behind you. His belt buckle presses onto your stomach, digging into you as he takes a deep breath beside your neck. You’re paralyzed beneath him, sucking in a small gasp as his fingers trace over the bottom of your spine, tingles shooting through you.

“Did you miss me? Because I missed you,” he murmurs against your throat, the cool gold of his earring dragging on your jaw. “So fucking much.”

His fingers trail to the back of your hips, palms landing on your dress as he squeezes your waist and pulls you closer to him. Your chests bump together, your cleavage pressing onto his front. Your hands fly up to push his shoulders, hating how your feelings clash against each other, turmoil brewing in your stomach. “Let me go,” you plead, spine stiffening as his fingers knead at you.

Denki chuckles, nipping at your skin and trailing the tip of his tongue along the column on your throat. “That’s not how this works, sunshine.” He pulls back to drop his gaze to your lips before his honeyed eyes swallow yours again. Wicked intent swirls in those caramel irises, tendrils of terror snagging tight around your throat. And yet, some small, sick part of you feels safe, feels comfortable in front of him— as if he’s the same guy who would stay up all night long with you just to play the latest video game, or do something crazy like make cupcakes or drive to the beach at four in the morning. As if you don’t know what he’s done since the last time you’ve seen him.

At the recollection of those unspeakable deeds, you whimper, heavy tears pooling along your lower lashes. “I’ll scream,” you threaten, though it doesn’t come out sounding like much of a threat.

A wide smirk curls the corners of his lips, that tongue jewelry making another brief appearance as he opens his mouth and leans into you. “You think anyone’s gonna hear us?” A dark brow rises on his forehead, amusement washed over his sharp features. “You’ll scream when I tell you to.”

Heat surges through your stomach at his crude suggestion, your body betraying you as his hands slide underneath your dress, his bare palms cupping your ass and distributing a confident squeeze. His fingers inch in between your legs, reaching out to ghost over your pussy through your thin, sheer thong.

The tough girl act proving fruitless, you decide to switch tactics. “Please, Denki, I don’t want to—”

“Why are you so fuckin’ wet, then?” He growls, fingertips pressing against your slit harder. He brings one hand before you, forcing you to look at the strands of slick that stretch between his fingers. Your face heats up, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. How could your body be so turned on right now, and your feelings so conflicted? The tension inside of you only worsens when he dips the fingers into his mouth, making a show of his pierced tongue stroking against them.

Finally his lips crash against yours, desire bursting inside of you and leaking into every corner of your body. You can’t move, can’t think, with his lips on you, moulding and pushing onto yours like waves in the restless sea. There’s passion behind his caress, a motive squandered and swept underneath the rug for far too long. He’s wanted you since high school, and now, he can finally have you.

“Please,” you beg quietly as you pull away, digits curling into the collar of his jacket, your lip trembling and a tear shooting down your face, “Denki, you’re scaring me.”

“Aw, cutie— no need to be scared,” Denki replies, rubbing the soaked front of your underwear as he smothers your neck with the gentlest kisses. “I’m the same old, lovable goof as before. Your Denki, your sparky. Well, one thing has changed… I waited for so long trying to think of something, anything that could make you realize how good I would treat you. I wasted so much time just playing my part as your best friend, a shoulder for you to cry on while your worthless boyfriends would betray you. It took me a while before I figured it out though—” he pauses for dramatic effect, leaning in so your lips brush “—that you love being treated bad.”

You’re speechless as his mouth conquers yours again, his tongue surprisingly sweet as it slides into your mouth with practiced ease. Your body is frozen solid for one whole second before your dignity withers and dies right before your very eyes, your thighs clenching together on either side of his intruding hand. His lips pull into a smirk, rough hands gathering the backs of your thighs before he sets your ass on the edge of the counter. It should be embarrassing how easily he peels your legs apart to stand between them, the heat leaking from his hard, jean-clad cock onto the inside of your thigh.

Noticing your stubborn hesitance, he sighs lowly as he takes his lips from yours, issuing a shockingly pleasant kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry, sunshine,” he says, hand landing on your jaw to steer your gaze directly into his. For the first time tonight, you feel like you see the faintest glimpse of him. The real him, the one you loved and laughed and cried with. He’s sincere. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. Unless… you’re into that?”

Your hand sails through the air automatically, an ingrained, pre-programmed response to his naughty suggestion. Only it doesn’t quite reach its target, for Denki’s strong grip keeps your wrist from moving any further. With a click of the tongue and a curt, unamused glance, he shoves your wrist back, pinning it against the cold mirror behind you. His other arm wraps tight around your waist, your bodies flush against each other.

“Bad girl. You gonna make me hold you down the whole time? That’s no fun,” he admonishes in your ear, hand scooping your ass through your dress and pressing you up against him. His erection digs into your thigh, hot and hard against your shivering skin, even through his jeans. “C’mon baby, m’gonna make you feel so good.”

You had sobered up at the sight of him, but now a new kind of intoxication sweeps through you, knocking you off your metaphorical feet and throwing you into the deep end of a sticky, ambrosial pool of desire. There’s no way you can say that you’d never thought of Denki ravaging you— you’d thought plenty about it, actually— but you’d never pictured it going quite like this. Even so, you can’t deny that his new look looks especially good in him, and as he’d previously pointed out, your body was more than happy to entertain him.

So you give in.

You only tilt your head back the slightest bit, and Denki’s already descending down onto you, starving tongue greedily slithering down your front. A hand tugs down the front of your dress, his lips wandering over the tops of your tits in your bra. Teeth dragging the silky material down, he groans as your bare chest is exposed, nuzzling a cheek against you as he begins to suck and nip at your flesh. The cool metal of his piercing beside the wet heat of his tongue washing over your nipples makes you moan, your free hand slapping over your mouth in mortification. But Denki only moans back, the lustful noise making your cunt twitch, longing for his attention.

Eager to please, he lets go of your wrist, maneuvering you in his hands so he can easily slide your thong to the side. His thumb dips into your entrance, gathering your abundant slick before it floats north, circling your pulsing clit. He swears against your tits, tongue still tracing your areola diligently as a fingertip begins to prod at your drooling hole. You can’t help but whine aloud, your head knocking back and your spine bending to press yourself into his caress. It’s wrong to be into this, you know this, and yet his tongue, his touch, his kiss— it overpowers all logic, your brain turning a blind eye as your body eats up every ounce of attention he offers.

You’re rewarded for your behavior when a slender finger slides into you, then another. The two digits begin to pump into you, curling as they disappear into your pussy, brushing deep inside of you. Denki trails his mouth back to yours, tongues tangling in a furious mess. Your fingers card through his inky locks, nails scraping his scalp as you grapple onto him. Your legs fold around his waist, hips rolling as he fucks his fingers into you tirelessly.

“Fuck, you’re so hot like this,” he groans, marigold eyes fixed on his digits slipping in and out of your dripping cunt. He sucks in a quick breath when your fingers find his belt, unfastening it and ripping down his fly. “Impatient?” he teases as you undo his pants, the dark denim falling along with his boxers.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, standing tall and proud as it pops out of its confines. There’s a thatch of blonde hair at the base of him, the very tip glistening with a swollen bead of pre. Hesitation long gone, you bring a hand to your mouth, allowing the thick saliva from the back of your throat to pool in your palm before you guide it back to him. Denki moans as your wet hand wraps around his throbbing length, squeezing just tight enough to feel how hard he really is. Slowly, you jerk him off, both your mouths parted as you pant, eyes boring into each other. His fingers thrust in turn with your fist, the squelching sound bouncing off the tiled walls.

It feels like your body is on fire, every movement of his hand stoking the flames, and you can only watch, helpless, as the inferno grows larger and livelier. There’s a small pressure forming in your stomach, your slick pouring out around him. You can’t contain your moans any longer, your arm curling around his neck to draw him close before your teeth take the skin of his neck hostage. Your noises of pleasure are hushed as they fall onto his throat, your lipstick smearing on the pale expanse of it.

Denki’s hips begin to move in accord with your hand, movements free and effortless as they greet your slippery fist. His cock is hot and swollen on your palm, veins bulging and rubbing against you. It’s only a matter of time before he’s had enough teasing, taking his fingers from you and swatting away your hand. He pants as he lines up the head of his cock with your glistening cunt, breath uneven. And then he’s pushing into you, stretching your silky walls wonderfully, burying himself inside you to the hilt.

You cry out when his hips bump yours, struggling to keep your half-lidded eyes open. Cheeks feeling hotter than ever, you wrap your other arm around his neck, pussy fluttering around his big cock as you adjust to his size. Surprisingly, Denki starts off slow, gently rocking his hips into yours. He sighs as his lips find yours again, the cold jewelry from his piercings foreign but welcome against your heated skin. He distracts you with his tongue as it slides between your lips, reaching out to greet yours. His fingers knead at your tits, your nipple trapped between his thumb and forefinger. The tingling sensations fluster you as his thrusts start to become deeper, harder— each one gracing your sensitive walls with a rub of his thick veins. His tempo begins to hasten, cock pushing into your scorching, dripping heat just as quick as it retreats. The pair of you are moaning, gasping for breath, too lost in each others’ bodies to bother with worrying about being caught.

“Does that feel good? You like it when I stuff you with my cock, sunshine?” Denki purrs, tugging at your nipple between his fingers. His teeth ghost over your bottom lip, hips slapping loudly against yours as he continues his attack on your cunt. He groans loudly when your walls tremble around him, clenching down as he finds a new angle that allows him better access to your most intimate spots. “Fuck, your pussy fits me so perfectly, so wet and tight… Made just for me.”

Even though his sentiment should be concerning, you find yourself more turned on than ever, your submission leaking out and mixing with the lust surging through your body to create a cocktail of desire stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. Unadulterated moans float out of your parted lips, raw pleasure shooting into you as the head of his cock pounds into your g-spot. Your shaking legs spread on their own volition, welcoming him inside as deep as possible. Gasping his name, your hands slip underneath the hem of his shirt, exploring his warm skin and the taut muscles hidden below. “D-Denki! Oh, fuck!”

Denki growls beside your ear, the sound primal and heated. His pace continues, relentless, as he lets his hands fall from your tits, opting to clutch onto a thigh and hold you open for him instead. “You dunno how long— oh, fuck yes— nngh, you dunno how long I’ve been dreaming about this, Y/N. Y-You, moaning my name like the filthy little slut you are. My slut, my girl… My sunshine— shit!”

You whimper as he pulls out of you abruptly, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh. His wet cock jerks against your pussy, which twitches in response, as if calling out for him and begging for his return. You pull at his hips, desperate for him to be inside of you again, wanting— no, needing for him to stretch you full.

He catches his breath pretty quick, letting out a low chuckle at your impatience. “Got a little too close there… this pussy is even better than I thought it’d be,” he explains, gathering you in his arms and placing you on your feet. He turns you around, pushing your back so you lay nearly flat, bent over the counter. Cock gliding against your slick folds, he evens his breathing as his thumbs pull your cunt apart, golden eyes settling on your twitching hole. Playful as always, he rubs the tip of his length over your entrance, not quite pushing hard enough to actually penetrate you. You watch him in the mirror before you, seemingly entranced in his own show.

“D-Denki,” you swallow your pride, restless to be stimulated again. At the sound of his name leaving your wanton lips, his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the reflection, filled with curiosity and mischief. “Please, put it back in… I… I need you, Denki.” You whisper the words, and it’s honestly a miracle that he hears your plea, for the club music still pounds through the thin door. The embarrassment is overwhelming, forcing you to close your eyes. You can’t bear to meet his gaze, shame coursing through you. Here you are, being ravaged by your ex-best friend, now turned villain, in a nightclub bathroom… begging for his cock, like a whore.

The feeling of his length pressing into your dripping heat shakes you from your shameful thoughts, eyes flying open to meet his caramel gaze again. “Don’t worry, sunshine,” Denki coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek, “I need you, too.”

You can’t fathom any response, his thick length filling you to the brim as his hips jostle yours, completely inside. The stretch is superb with this new angle, the veins on his cock so deliciously stimulating your snug, velvet walls. He draws back, only to snap forward quickly, your legs quivering at the bliss that emanates from the wonderful stretch he provides. His words have a sinfully pleasurable effect on you, a shiver spreading over your form, and your spine bending, ass pressing into him even more.

Denki hums as he begins to hasten the tempo, soft smacks filling the stuffy air inside the room. His cock glides into you easily, lubricated by your copious arousal as you pulse around him. Your ass jiggles as he begins to swing his hips harder, drilling into your slobbering cunt with renewed passion. Rough hands clutch onto either of your arms, holding his own arms straight as he uses the new grip on you to further his momentum.

Stars dance before your eyes, his cock hammering into your most sensitive area. The position he has you in provides just the right angle for him to assault your g-spot, your jaw unhinging as a string of high-pitched moans tumbles from your throat. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, rolling down your face and spattering against the dirty mirror as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. You try to form the words to warn him you’re about to cum, but you can’t think, let alone speak.

But it seems he doesn’t need your warning, for Denki analyzes your lewd expression in the reflection, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Go on, do it. C’mon sunshine, you can do it. Cum for me, fuck, cum with my cock stretching out your sloppy little hole,” he orders, still slamming into you ruthlessly. “I wanna hear you when you cum, lemme hear that pretty voice of yours— scream for me.”

You hate that his filthy words have such power, but that doesn’t deter your cunt from wringing snug around him, the coil in your stomach compressing tighter and tighter until your vision turns white and your body goes rigid. Waves of euphoria crash over you, sucking you into the sea of pleasure. Your lungs burn as you scream out, pure ecstasy zipping through your every limb. Denki has to stop thrusting, his grip digging into your skin as he struggles to keep his own orgasm at bay. Your pussy constricting around him has him losing his breath, teeth descending onto his bottom lip as he tries not to cum.

Finally your cunt stops seizing, your body relaxing onto the countertop. Your mind is totally hazed, filled with an electrifying fog of post-orgasm bliss. But Denki’s quick to snap you out of it, picking up right where he left off and sending his cock surging into your tender heat. Once again you’re thrown into the vicious throes of pleasure, his cock the only thing you’re able to focus on as it drives into your slippery, gummy walls with ease.

His hands flying to latch onto your waist, he holds onto you tightly as his eyes find yours in the mirror, his orbs meeting your barely-open ones. That same spring is gaining pressure in his own stomach, the moans slipping out of him as good an indicator as any that he’s getting close. Fisting your hair, he pulls you upright, his slender fingers slipping from your tresses to lace around your throat. “Mmmm, m’close baby,” he pants, his hot breath fanning against your ear.

He begins to kiss at your jaw, littering it in affectionate nips and licks. Moving one of your legs so your knee rests on the counter, he pistons into you, hand wandering down to press against your stomach, the tips of his fingers just reaching your clit. Your body stiffens at the sudden stimulation, the bundle of nerves having been forgotten since his cock speared into you. Yet he rubs at it attentively now, fingers dipping down to where his cock draws in and out of you to gather excess slick before he continues.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Denki grunts, his fingers tightening slightly around your neck. You can still breathe, but the feeling of his hand flush against your throat sends heat to your core, your pussy clutching onto his cock in desperation. “Gonna paint the inside of this sweet little cunt white… fill you up with my cum, nice and full.”

Icy fear trickles into your veins at the premise of him unloading into you, nothing to stop his seed from fertilizing you. “N-Not inside, Denki,” you beg hoarsely, your voice meek and mild, still recovering from your screams. But he doesn’t seem to hear you, or at least, he doesn’t acknowledge you— only continuing his ministrations on your clit and the vicious onslaught of his cock sheathing inside of you. “Please,” you whimper, your arms reaching behind your head to touch him, one hand landing in his silky hair and the other on his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s right. Beg for my cum… Mmm, love it when you say my name like that, sunshine,” he moans, too wrapped up in his own pleasure to heed your words. Or perhaps he chooses to ignore them, his pace morphing into ragged, unmeasured thrusts, and his hips jerking as he loses himself in your tight, wet heat. “Take it, Y/N— every last fucking drop’s for you,” he whispers in your ear, eyes closed and lashes fluttering on your jaw. He groans as his orgasm tears into him, electricity from his quirk bursting through his body. The energy flows into you, shockwaves seizing over your body as the lightning rolls off of him. Somehow, even though he’s howling out in his own ecstasy, he manages to direct the electric current to the fingers that toy with your clit, sending another orgasm hurtling toward you like a bus with no brakes on the freeway. The static zips through you, quivering your bones and making your body melt like ice cream on a hot summer day. Your cunt milks his cock well, your climax making your walls contract and clamp around him. Searing ropes of his sticky seed land deep inside of you, his cock gushing and emptying his load into your tender heat.

Once the overwhelming pleasure has subsided, your body falls slack in his arms, slightly twitching in recoil from the surge of electricity. Denki coos at you as he catches his own breath, nuzzling into your neck and littering your skin with kisses. He whispers sweet nothings to you as you come back to reality, still subdued from the all-consuming ecstasy that had taken hold of you entirely just moments ago. Slowly he slips out of you, careful to slide your panties back in place to catch his load as it starts to leak out of your aching hole. Moving your leg off the countertop, he turns you around, smiling happily as he fixes your smudged makeup and frazzled hair. Your body is too weak to try to fight him, so you let him hold you against his lithe form as he fixes your dress, covering your ravaged body as best as he can. He takes a moment to rub off the lipstick stains from his skin, buckling his belt before those marigold eyes find yours once again.

“Finally, you’re mine,” he muses, yellow eyes glinting at you under the harsh, fluorescent lighting of the dirty bathroom. He tilts his head as he cups your chin, angling you to look into his intoxicating gaze. “Oh sunshine… what fun we’ll have together.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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yayyy my first denki fic :D also my first time writing villain/yandere stuff too... so please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed!

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[spinchip]

The What-Ifs

Summary: Zane and Nya discuss things that could have been while paired up on a mission together, finding maybe they’ve wanted the same thing all along.

Pairing: Braincellshipping

Wordcount: 1500

A/n: Nya and Jay have already been broken up for a while during this.

“I think about what-ifs, sometimes.” Nya’s not sure why she says it- probably a half-baked plan to break the awkward silence lingering between them, Zanes profile lit up by neon lights and the passing of cars headlights. Out of everyone, the two of them have spent the least amount of time alone together entirely because of her growing feelings and subsequent avoidance of said feelings- which led unintentionally to her avoiding him, and while she’d seen Lloyds considering look during meal times, she had never thought he’d stick them together like this. They had basically been partnered up on all missions the past few weeks, and while Nya was perfectly fine if she could keep her space, being so up-close and personal with Zane was making her tongue tie itself into knots. She was usually so good at knowing just what to say.

His eyes don’t break from the horizon, scanning the sidewalks, but his shoulders tense just slightly- she wouldn’t have been able to tell if not for the taxi that pulls around the corner, the headlights just barely reaching the alcove they had been holed away in, enough to catch the uncertain shift of his hoodie.

She scrambles, the implications of the statement hitting her too late, “Just- what if I had never said yes-?” cringing, she bites the rest of her sentence down, admitting a truth too raw in her haste to reassure him she hadn’t meant the Never Realm. Despite the shame making her face hot, she can't deny the relief that wiggles in her gut when his defensiveness drops for curiosity, his blue eyes pinning her with glowing interest.

Before he can ask for clarification like he clearly wants to, a shadow moves between the hustle and bustle of the street and Zanes eyes zero in. She picks up on the shift immediately, taking his elbow while he leads them into the crowd, seamlessly blending in with the other civilians enjoying the autumn night. Slowly, deliberately, they tail one of the Mechanics right hand goons, easily keeping pace with the man who seemed to have no idea how to avoid being followed. Zane wordlessly notifies the Ninjas group chat they’re on their mark, the others all spread out through out the city can relax. He doesn’t seem to have noticed the two ninja hot on his heels.

Though Nya does assume it would be hard to recognize the two of them like this, dressed down and casual, especially given Zanes human disguise and yellow hoodie and her own red jacket. If he was looking for white and grey, he’d pass right over them. Being dressed so informal seems to only make her even more paranoid, certain if they were caught they’d mess everything up trying to do spinjitzu in denim. A cool hand lays overtop hers where she’s been unwittingly squeezing his arm, and she wills herself to relax. They were just friends on a walk in the city, no need to be so on edge.

She focuses on the retreating man's back, letting the way Zanes' thumb passes over her knuckles remind her to stay calm, the motion soothing.

“So what was the question?” Zane asks and she inwardly cringes, it had been wishful thinking to believe he’d forgotten, “The one you wish you’d refused?”

“I don’t know if i said it that way…” She mutters, shoulders slumping. Exhaling, she decides it’d be a good idea to get the thought out of her head anyway, “I just wonder what could have happened if… if I…”

“You do not have to tell me.” He reassures her as she hesitates, curling his arm to cradle her hand in the crook of his elbow easier.

She swallows, “What if when Jay asked me on that date I said no?”

There’s a long pause, his hand stilling where he’d been comforting her, and she risks looking away from the man they were following to glance at him. His expression is surprised, but when he notices her gaze on him he tries to close it off quickly, “Oh.” He says simply.

“It’s not like I regret our relationship,” She winces, side stepping a group of people chatting outside a fancy restaurant, “We had some good times together, but I just… I wonder what I missed out on, sometimes. What could have been.”

The goon stops suddenly, turning around with a suspicious look on his face. Nya catches on first, shoving Zane nearly to the ground in her haste to hide them under the cover of one of the many food carts lining the street, the restaraunt advertising many different types of drinks and foods. She blows loose strands of hair from her face, peeking out from behind a weirded-out looking patron to see if they’d been spotted, Zane apologizing to the vendor for nearly knocking a rack of utensils over while she’s on lookout.

It seems they’d underestimated him. He’d disappeared into the crowd the moment their line of sight was broken. She curses under her breath, it was a busy Friday night and the streets were packed. It was lucky they’d even seen him in the first place, and now that he knew he might have been followed… She shares a grim look with Zane, pulling out her communicator to report back to Lloyd.

There’s a long crackle of static on the other line as Lloyd thinks, holding down the button until he’s ready to deliver their plan- which turns out to be no plan at all, “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. Finish up with a final sweep and we’ll meet back at the monastery later.” short and to the point. The patrons at the food stall seem to have caught on to exactly who their dinner guests are, whispering amongst themselves, and the Wwoman behind the counter’s eyes glitter as she pulls out her camera with hopeful eyes.

Zane shrugs blithely when Nya sends him a probing look, and they both lean over and pose with the owner while the older woman prods her patrons to snap a picture. One mini photo-shoot and some free Empanadas later and they were ducking back out onto the street, continuing their circuit of their designated lookout. Without thinking, she hooks her arm around his, linking them together again as they walk. It’s as natural as breathing.

She scans the crowd, nibbling on her food, when Zane announces in a tone that makes it clear he’s absolutely certain, “I would have asked you.”

She blinks, tilting her head as she puzzles the random words, “Huh?”

He looks at her, those brilliantly blue eyes earnest, “If you had said no to Jay.” He explains, “I would have asked you to dinner.” He smiles as if he hasn’t just pulled the rug from under her feet.

She’s so thrown she actually stops walking, and he jerks back as her hold on his arm stops him too, “You… what?”

He blinks, a flash of nerves making his shoulders hunch, “I think you are amazing.” Present tense. He still does.

They stand there on the sidewalk while she gawks up at him, only spurred back into walking when a passerby nudges past her. He awkwardly leads them through the streets as the city lives around them, thinking he’s said something wrong. She can’t find the right words to reassure him other than to say, “Well, what if you had asked?” She can feel him looking at her, but she doesn’t glance back, keeping her eyes on the crowd, “And what if I had said yes?”

He hums a little, glancing down at his sneakers as they walked, thinking, “I would have cooked.” he says obviously, “Your favorite: Baked macaroni and cheese- though that’s not your favorite now.” He says thoughtfully, “It is Pineapple fried rice, correct? I should make it more often.”

“No one else likes it though.” She says, looking up at him with a smile, warm fuzzies spreading across her face. He remembered her favorite foods.

He hums noncommittally and she gets the feeling he doesn’t care wether the others like it or not. Slowly she leans her head on his shoulder, lacing her fingers together where she’s been holding onto him to draw them closer together. She wonders how that night would have gone, if she would have been charmed by him, if it would have led to another dinner or a kiss. She wonders if it could have been Zane to offer her that promise ring, and if she would have gotten to keep it. What if.

The walk in silence for a long while, finishing off their impromptu dinner, coming to the end of their sweep. It feels so weirdly final, despite the fact they’d both be out here tomorrow night too, on the same hunt. It feels like a door is about to shut, one she desperately doesn’t want to close before she sees who’s behind it.

They come to the mouth of the alley they started the night in, both their bikes stored in the darkness and away from prying eyes, the shadows of the backstreet an ending she doesn’t want to face. She lets go of his elbow, standing underneath the lantern of the bar right next to them, only stopping him by catching his hand in hers while he’s still lit up by street lamps and restaurant signs. She’s always tried to be bold, when she knows what she wants, and she thinks she might have it figured out. He turns to face her, a inquiring tilt to his head.

“What if,” She says, smiling up into his questioning eyes, “I asked you to go on a date with me? Not the past, but here, now?”

He smiles and she can see him try to contain the happiness, his eyes flickering two shades brighter when he says, “I would say yes."

[julek]

read on ao3

Neon light washes against the pavement, small puddles hinting at the afternoon showers that earlier overlooked the city. Inside, soft music pours from the speakers, adding a pleasant touch to the buzzing atmosphere already filled with chatter and laughter. People come and go, black coats and scarves hung over their chairs, swirling their drinks in their hands and taking bites out of their food. Servers take orders —Friday nights are chaotic— and try to keep up with the customers swarming the bar, eager to get a table and escape the crisp autumn air. 

Raindrops fall from the trees that stand tall on the sidewalk, sometimes catching on Eskel’s hair, making some strands stick to his forehead. His glass is cool against his fingers, the remnants of the amber lager he’d ordered resting at the bottom. His knees are bumping against the table, his back hunched from sitting on the weirdly-shaped bar stool — who designs these things, anyway? 

“You want some of my fries?” 

He pushes the small plate in Geralt’s direction. His cheeks are bright red, both from the cold and the beer he’d been nursing, white hair up in a messy bun. The soft orange light from the vintage lightbulbs on a railing over their heads paints his profile bronze gold, his eyes glimmering in the shadows of the night. 

Geralt had insisted on them sitting outside, something along the lines of it’s too warm inside and can’t talk with all that noise going on. Eskel had shrugged, though a small smile crossed his face when Geralt balled up his jacket and affectionately tossed it to him, like he’d done a million times before. 

Reaching across the table, Geralt grabs a small packet of ketchup and rips it with his teeth. Eskel takes a sip of his beer, unhurried. 

“Remember what you’d say when we were kids?” Geralt says after a while, his voice low. “Those nights when we’d lay on the back of your truck, looking for satellites?”

Eskel huffs a laugh. He knows. Entire nights spent out on the fields drinking beer (stolen from Vesemir’s fridge), noses curling up in disgust at the bitter taste — beer was an acquired taste, or so they promised themselves. Eskel driving out to the outskirts of town just for the sake of it with Geralt in the passenger seat, his hand drawing circles in the air out the window. How they’d sit on the grass, side by side, the summer stars shining bright above them, the sound of cicadas and frogs filling the comfortable silence.

“I do,” he says, his fingers drawing circles on the table, stringing the droplets together like a pattern. 

“You’d tell me,” Geralt leans forward, his elbows resting on the tabletop, “that if I ever wanted to run away, you’d come with me.”

“Do you feel like running away?”

A car passes them by, headlights flashing against Geralt’s pale skin, and for a second, Eskel can see him, buzzcut and split lips curled into a wicked grin, jumping in the river at night. His calloused hands, freckles peppering his golden skin after spending weeks working on the fields under the burning sun, tired eyes crinkling at the corners.

And the look Geralt’s giving him right now is one he recognizes well. He’s seen it before — the night Eskel left for college, the day after his mother was buried, the summer the storm broke loose and the winds tore the barn apart. It’s exhaustion set deep in his bones, dark circles framing his amber eyes, revealing nights of restless sleep. 

Geralt shifts in his seat, idly smearing the ketchup across the plate with the tip of his finger. 

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Sometimes I just want to let go. Or maybe I’m just getting old.”

“You are, though,” Eskel teases, but it feels too ominous. “Where would we run away to? Hypothetically.”

Geralt huffs a laugh around a mouthful of beer, still smiling when he swallows it down.

“Hmm,” he says, looking thoughtful. “Not the city.”

“Never the city,” Eskel agrees.

“Maybe a town.”

“Yeah… a shitty town in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere it’s not too hot.”

Geralt narrows his eyes, considering, a smirk on his lips.

“How shitty a town are we speaking of?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You know me.”

And he does. He knows Geralt early in the morning, knows him in the dead of the night. He’s seen him, inside and out, the good and the bad. Seen the sunlight draped over his naked back, his hair messy and long that year he’d refused to cut it, his small act of rebellion. He’s heard him cry, tears welling up in his eyes for hours on end, his voice a choked sound. He’s felt Geralt’s warm skin under his hands on the nights beds were scarce and the winter was rough, felt his breath against his face, the beating of his heart under his own head. 

Eskel shakes his head, biting his lip in fond exasperation. 

“Very shitty. As in no-phone-signal shitty. Maybe a diner, a few houses down the road. We’d live in a cabin by the river.”

He sits back on his chair, his arms crossed on his chest. 

“Yeah,” he continues, “there’d be a big town nearby. Not too close, though. Like an hour drive away. We’d go get groceries and beer once a week.”

Geralt smiles pleasantly, some of the weariness lifting from his face. A waitress swipes a table nearby, and Eskel asks her for a refill. 

“This cabin by the river,” Geralt says suddenly, “how big is it?”

“Hmm... Not too big, so we don’t have to waste too much time keeping it clean, and so we don’t feel tempted to keep too many things.”

“Ever the minimalist,” Geralt teases. “How many bedrooms?”

Eskel takes a moment to consider. He thinks of the barn, countless times in which they’d fallen asleep together, laying on a pack of hay, limbs entwined. Rainy days spent in that worn yellow hammock Vesemir kept hanging from an old oak tree, card games that ended in lazy afternoon naps. Mornings in which he’d wake up slowly, his nose buried in silver hair, arm lazily thrown over Geralt’s waist. 

“One,” he decides, and Geralt silently nods in agreement. “With a good mattress, though.”

“Yeah, old man, I know. Your back kills you.”

Eskel takes a sip from his lager, the bittersweet taste clinging to his tongue. He puts it down and zips his jacket all the way up. It smells like Geralt — the faint scent of sweat and smoke mixed with laundry soap.

“You’ve got…” Geralt clicks his tongue and leans forward, his thumb swiping foam off Eskel’s chin. It’s a simple gesture, yet such an intimate one that he can’t help but feel his face burn. 

“Thanks,” he says, his voice small. 

They sit in silence for a while, watching people move around them. It’s almost midnight and a group of young women speaking a foreign language walks past, the clicking of their heels fading away in the darkness. A man and a golden retriever stroll around the block, the dog barking at Geralt excitedly as they pass them by. He smiles.

“How many dogs?”

Eskel rolls his eyes.

“You can have as many as you like. I’m not cleaning up after them.”

Geralt pouts, a strand of white hair falling on his face, and he looks ridiculously endearing. “Fine,” he says. “But they’re sleeping in our bed.”

“Fine,” Eskel concedes, his mind caught up on how easy it rolls off his tongue. Our bed. 

Drinking the remnants of his beer, Geralt gets up, muttering something about getting the check. Eskel doesn’t fight him, knows his efforts to pay him back are always in vain. When he comes back to their table, Eskel’s already standing with his hands on his pockets, his head tilted back, looking up at the dark sky.  

“I mean it, you know,” he says quietly when Geralt joins him on the sidewalk, still looking up. 

Geralt turns to look at him, a tiny frown knitting his eyebrows. “What?”

Eskel exhales softly, watching the small white cloud of his breath disappear into the air. He meets Geralt’s eyes, stepping closer. 

“I’d run away with you. I always would.” 

“Yeah?” Geralt says with a lopsided smile, the tip of his nose pink. “Even with ten dogs sleeping in our bed, and no cell-signal?”

They do it often — daydreaming about a quieter life. Sometimes it’s a secluded cabin in the woods to fulfill Eskel’s wish to live as deliberately as Thoreau would have wanted, sometimes it’s a house in the hills for Geralt to raise a flock of sheep. Away from the sounds of the city, the busy pace of living, the high demands and expectations. No matter what scenario they choose to indulge in, they’re always together. Never apart.

Eskel moves closer still, his breath intertwining with Geralt’s, the tip of their shoes touching. His dark hair falls on his eyes, and Geralt pushes it back with his fingertips, his touch lingering.

“In a heartbeat.” 

Eyes closed, Eskel feels Geralt’s lips brush against his for a second, the touch barely there. He doesn’t push, simply rubs his nose against Geralt’s, meeting his amber gaze. He twirls a loose strand of white hair on his fingers, gently tugging before pulling back, Geralt’s lips curling into a soft smile.

“Let’s go,” he whispers.

Eskel nods. “Let’s go home.”

[kindrednerdspirit]

Sometimes a Thing Feels so Right: Part 5

Excerpt: A slow smile spreads across Izzie’s face. “This time, I’m ready to broadcast our business.” “Oh yeah?” Casey murmurs. “Pretty sure we’ve already done that.” The curve of Izzie’s lips makes it hard for Casey to think about anything else, so she inches closer until their foreheads touch. The two giggle as they re-live the forehead promise from their not-so-distant past. To draw out the moment, Casey gently rocks her temples against Izzie’s, enjoying how tantalizingly close their lips are.

One Block Later. The Library.

When Izzie walks into the library for the student council meeting, she’s pleased to see Mel is early, too.

Mel looks up from her notebook. “Hey. I know we already have the safe space posters printed and ready to hang up, but I have some ideas for future designs. And ideas for other ways we can make Clayton Prep an LGBTQ+ friendly place.” 

“Great! Hold that thought.” Izzie quickly texts Jason to check up on him.

Hi Jase. Did mum help you and Alysha get ready for school?

The two girls jump into it. They’re about 15 minutes into their work when Harmony and Scarlet show up.

“Wow, you’re early!” Scarlet exclaims, looking at the girls. Izzie shrugs and keeps working. Scarlet scrutinizes her as she makes her way over to the table. Her eyes burn into Izzie, making it hard for her to concentrate.

“What?” She asks, her voice a bit too sharp.

“Your energy feels different, that’s all.” Scarlet ignores Izzie’s tone, continuing her visual inspection. “Did you hear anything else from Brad?”

The pen in Izzie’s hand stops in its tracks. The last people she wants to hear about are Brad or Nate or some other guy she cannot care less about. In the past, she’s repeatedly made this clear, but these two are relentless. Izzie sighs, because she knows It’s time to go public. Before she can change her mind, she looks directly at Harmony and Scarlet and straightens her back, so she’s not slouching in her chair.  “You know that I think Nate and Brad are assholes and I’m tired of repeating myself… so, I’m hoping you’ll listen to this--I’m gay.”

Harmony’s eyes widen and repeatedly blink. Scarlet doesn’t look much different than Harmony, but she’s able to form some words.

“Oh, shit, Izzie. I--we didn’t know.” A long silence fills the library. “Sorry.”

To her right, Mel shifts in her seat, but despite everything, Izzie feels fine. Actually, she feels an odd sense of relief. She realizes she rarely sees Scarlet uncomfortable, so she decides to enjoy the moment.

“Damn, you two, nobody died. I like girls, it’s cool.” Izzie looks over at Mel and the two burst out laughing. “We have to go ladies, but no hard feelings. Really.”

The two girls take their LGBTQ+ posters and leave, so they can start hanging them up in the hallways. Meanwhile, Harmony and Scarlet find themselves alone and digesting the news.

“Do you think her and Casey--” asks Harmony.

“Yes,” replies Scarlet with a firm nod.

“So, we probably shouldn’t have written ‘slut’ and ‘ho’ on her shoes then--”

“No, we shouldn’t have,” she says with a firm head shake.

Harmony inches her hand toward Scarlet’s. “Should we--”

The warmth of Harmony’s hand startles her, making her quickly pull away. “No.”

Concern clouds over Harmony’s face. “Should I--”

“Yes.” Scarlet replies a bit too quickly. She forces herself to look at the wall, anywhere but her friend. In a flash, Harmony grabs her notebook and pencil case, then scurries out of the library.

Break Between Classes. In the Hallway.

“I can’t reach any higher.” Izzie protests while on her tippy toes. She’s holding a stapler with an outstretched arm.

Mel is holding the safe space poster with ease against the bulletin board. “Would you like me to find you a box?”

“Haha. Very funny.” Iz rolls her eyes. “But, yes, a box would help.”

With a grin Mel takes the stapler from Izzie. “Or, you know, I can do this and you can hold the posters.” She proceeds to staple the top right-hand edge of the poster. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Casey walking down the hallway.

“Yo, Izzie. Casey 4 o’clock.”

At the sight of Newton, Izzie sucks in a quick breath. This is her chance. “Here, Mel. Hold these or something.” Izzie drops the small stack of posters on the ground and whirls around to face Casey’s direction. Her body is shaking as she tries to find the right words.

“Hey. Can we talk?” Izzie’s voice quavers.

“Nope,” Casey replies firmly.

“I’m sorry.” Iz follows Newton to her locker, while Newton aggressively puts in the lock combination.

“I'm sick of you apologizing. You led me on, you're jerking me around. I hate it.”

“I really like you.”

Her pleading and stating the obvious irks Casey even more. “Yeah, in this moment, but in ten minutes, you might be embarrassed by me or kissing some random guy. Just leave me alone.” She slams the locker door, then abruptly turns and starts marching down the hallway.

“Newton!” Izzie is on Casey’s heels. “Will you stop for two seconds so I can explain?” 

It’s as if Casey is seeing red. She’s exhausted from avoiding Izzie at track this morning, nevermind what is currently happening. Needless to say, when she turns to face Izzie, she is done with this conversation.

“What?” Her brow is furrowed, but when she notices Izzie’s close proximity, her eyes soften.

They are close enough for their bare legs to touch. One of the few perks of a Clayton Prep skirt. Izzie hovers close before dipping her chin up. “I’m done being weird,” she murmurs. Casey’s heart is practically bursting as she watches Izzie’s lips part. It’s deja vu of the dance. The two of them in the exact same position with their lips close, but it’s different this time. This time, Izzie initiates. But like before, time slows as the two enjoy one another’s presence and touch. Their legs gently bump together as their arms intertwine.

Her lips taste delicious, like soft, warm vanilla beans. Exactly how Casey remembers. She brushes away a strand of Izzie’s hair after pulling away. Their eyes are locked on one another, a happy glow emitting from the couple. 

Izzie hasn’t felt this good in weeks, not since the dance. She figured she’d feel self-conscious after kissing Casey in front of everyone in the hallway, instead she feels fine. More than fine, even. There’s a strange sense of pride. She’s happy to show off what she has with Newton to Clayton Prep.

“That was pretty weird.” A dumbstruck grin spreads across Casey’s face. This is not what she imagined happening during her walk from Biology to English. She’s still wondering whether the last few minutes actually happened.

Doubt sets in at Newton’s response. Izzie feels her inexperience showing. Was the kiss okay? Did Newton feel the same?

“Bad weird?” She tentatively asks.

Casey just chuckles and throws an arm around Izzie’s shoulders, leading her toward their next class.

“I have so much to tell you!” 

Iz giggles, ecstatic to have her girlfriend holding her close, to have her favourite person back.

“First of all, I told my dad that I love you.” Casey feels her body being pulled back, as Izzie’s feet stop moving. Her eyebrows shoot up as she struggles to find the words.

“Wow, Newton, I--”

“But he thought I meant as a friend.” The two girls laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “I would’ve corrected him but.. I wasn’t sure about us.” There’s an uncomfortable silence for a few beats. Iz presses her hand firmly against Newton’s. 

“You can be sure about us.”

A Few Weeks Later. Getting Ready for the School Dance. Gardner’s House.

When Casey walks down the stairs in her 1980s-style yellow and black patterned button-up shirt with black suspenders, Elsa feels a surge of pride in her daughter. She cannot restrain herself, she has to throw her arms around her girl and squeeze tight.

“I’m so proud of you!” Casey’s outfit matches the 1980s theme of Clayton Prep’s dance, and it’s reminding Elsa of her first high school dance with its overabundance of neon, big hair, and hormones.

“Mum!” Casey protests with an eye roll. “It’s not like it’s prom or grad, it’s just a dance. Or what you kids used to call it, sock hops.” She’s waiting in the living room, so she can make a quick escape with Izzie when she shows up.

Elsa is now leaning on Doug, enjoying the moment, ignoring her daughter’s teasing. “Can you believe that our youngest is going to her first dance with her first girlfriend?” Her eyes are starting to water. Doug pulls Elsa in with one arm, so her chin is resting on his shoulders. 

“They grow up fast.” He says quietly enough so only Elsa hears.

By this point, Casey has noticed the water works are starting, so she wanders over to Sam who’s sitting on the couch sketching. She gets all up in his personal space by resting her chin on his shoulders. There’s no hesitation or pause in the pencil’s movements. It’s as if Casey isn’t even there.

Ding-dong.

Within seconds, Casey is flinging open the door. She needs a quick exit to escape from the Elsa paparazzi. Except that as soon as she sees Izzie, the quick exit gets scratched. Izzie is wearing a denim jumper, somewhat similar to her own, but more stylized with buttons and rolled up sleeves. Her ears are adorned with her usual hoop earrings, but she’s paired them with a Boy George inspired hat.

A sheepish smile spreads across her face. “Hey, Newton.” She peers around her girlfriend to look at the Gardner family. “Hi Gardners!”

There’s a flurry as Elsa ushers Izzie and Casey inside. “You girls look so cute! Come in, I just want to take a few pictures.”

Casey gives Izzie an apologetic look, but of course, Izzie doesn’t mind. It’s kind-of nice seeing Casey’s family wanting to document and remember this moment. There are pictures taken of them as a couple, then they move on to taking some pictures of the Gardner family.

Sam pauses while Elsa is taking one of him and Casey.

“Are you and Izzie more serious than you and Evan?” His question is genuine.

“Dude, what the hell?” Casey exclaims before glancing over at Izzie. Izzie laughs, not bothered by his question.

“I need another person to go to for advice, like Evan, but I don’t know if I should expect your relationship status to change.”

Casey playfully punches her brother’s shoulder.

“Ow!” His face is scrunched up. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’m your sister. It’s basically my duty to communicate with you in annoying ways.” Casey walks over to Izzie, wraps her arm around her, then pulls her in for a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t say she’ll give you advice, weirdo, but she’ll be around for awhile.”

***

Synthesizers and dreamy British, New Wave sounds fill the gymnasium. There is a lot of neon, big hair, hormones, and bright lights on the polished gym floor. Izzie stretches out her arm, holding up an inviting palm to Newton. A slow, confident smile spreads across Casey’s face before she takes Izzie’s hand.

“You look…” Her brain is at a sudden loss for words.

“You too.” Izzie finishes her sentence, then promptly blushes before looking at her feet.

“C’mon, let’s show these Clayton Prep losers how to dance.” Casey proceeds to reach into her pocket and pull out fingerless gloves. Izzie’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“I got them from Elsa’s closet.” 

“My girlfriend is unbelievably cool.” Iz says with a wink before placing Newton’s fingerless-gloved hands around her waist. “Hold Me” by Fleetwood Mac begins playing from the speakers. In response, Casey pumps a fist in excitement and carefully but skillfully dips Izzie with her other arm. 

“The power of the fingerless gloves.” She giggles.

“And you think Sam’s a weirdo?” Iz smirks.

The two begin Snoopy dancing to the upbeat piano and guitar licks. Elsewhere, Harmony and Scarlet are dancing suspiciously close, while Mel is talking up some girls at the punch bar. Despite the entire student body surrounding her, Iz doesn’t feel self-conscious at all. She’s just happy she’s no longer hiding anything.

“Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper begins playing, so the girls ditch the Peanuts-inspired dancing. Izzie cannot help but think of the hotel party as the familiar electricity between them pulls their bodies together. Her hands slip around the small of Newton’s back as their bodies rhythmically sway together.

A slow smile spreads across Izzie’s face. “This time, I’m ready to broadcast our business.” 

“Oh yeah?” Casey murmurs. “Pretty sure we’ve already done that.” The curve of Izzie’s lips makes it hard for Casey to think about anything else, so she inches closer until their foreheads touch. The two giggle as they re-live the forehead promise from their not-so-distant past. To draw out the moment, Casey gently rocks her temples against Izzie’s, enjoying how tantalizingly close their lips are.

Iz bites her lip. She wants to resist the urge to taste Newton, but her deliciously warm lips are too inviting. Goosebumps appear on her goosebumps. She feels the familiar tingly feeling that only Newton has ever given her. She could get used to this. This whole being happy at school, time away from her home responsibilities, being comfortable with her identity. Iz feels the remaining tension in her body loosen and the warmth of Newton’s arms around her. She feels safe in her embrace. Neither wants to let go, so they continue moving back and forth, as one, with their foreheads pressed together well after the song ends.

The End

[jaeminlore]

Darlin’ | Lucas

summary: i love the way you soften my life with your love

words: 4K+

category: biker!lucas, fluff, tattooist on the boardwalk!lucas, reader just wants some sun

“I told you, I don’t want to move.” You open one eye and squint towards your best friend, Hana, who for some reason can never sit still.

It’s summer break, you can’t help but think. Exams just ended and it’s time to stay on the beach every day until you turn into a merperson. Summers in Salos are the best for this reason, and you have decided to spend your first week of summer promptly sleeping on the beach. 

Hana doesn’t know how to relax, or rather, doesn’t know how to stop putting her nose in places that don’t belong. “But the bike show is starting today. There are going to be so many hot guys and girls there with their bikes.”

“I want a bike,” you grumble. Your timer beeps, so you restart it and turn on your back. “Go check them out and I’ll be here.”

Hana whines and pulls the hem of your bottoms, letting the waistband snap against your skin. “I can’t go alone!”

“Ow!” You rub at your waist. “I’m coming, okay? But you’re buying me dinner afterward.”

“Whatever,” Hana grabs your arm as soon as you’re done covering your top half with a hoodie. “Let’s go, I heard that all those hot tattoo artists have their bikes set up in front of their shop.”

You know what shop she’s talking about. It’s Neo Tattoos, owned by a few handsome, yet intimidating boys. They’re often the center of attention at most beach parties, always revving their bikes too loud in the parking lot just beside the beach. Parties with them are always exciting, because they come armed with a stick and poke gun and a business card for the customer’s more sober morning, where they can cover up what they drunkenly got at the party. 

Businessmen, for sure.

“What do you even do at a bike show?” You grab your bag and swing it over your shoulder. Hana barely waits for you to slip your sandals on before she’s forcing you to trudge up the sand dunes, past the snow cone cart, up to one of the many boardwalk entrances. 

An entire part of the boardwalk is set up with bikes. People’s motorcycles line the pathways, and their owners just sit in lawn chairs with cups of beer, waiting for someone to come up and spark a conversation about their souped up motor vehicles. Tourists fall right into the trap, traveling to the island just to take a peak at what these people have been working on for the entire year.

You like the show, mostly because you have sort of always wanted a motorbike, and these shows are a nice chance to find people willing to seek their old rides. But they can be terribly boring, and you have no idea why Hana would put the two of you through it. Even if there are cute boys attending.

Neo Tattoos sits further down the boardwalk, away from the pier and closer to the nightlife scene. Bars and restaurants line the boardwalk for people who have spent their entire day shopping or swimming. There’s a club somewhere around here, run by the same people who keep the karaoke cabana down by the beach up and running.

You stop on the way, looking at the different bikes. Hana drags you on, and the two of you stop just in front of the tattoo parlor.

The place doesn’t look like it belongs in front of a beach. The entire storefront is made of black bricks, all splattered with different neon paint. It looks cool at night, the neon paint glows in the dark and draws excited university students in. 

You’ve considered getting a tattoo there, but you aren’t sure you what design you want. Even if you did, you might go to a different one just to escape the embarrassment that is Hana around cute boys.

Apparently today, you don’t get a choice. 

There’s an annoying tingling of chimes that rings throughout the shop as soon as the two of you enter. 

The man behind the counter greets the two of you. “I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two, today?”

“I want a tattoo,” Hana says. She’s putting on that sugary sweet voice that can win over just about anyone’s heart. “But I only have a twenty.”

You want to call bull on her lying ass, but she’s batting her eyelashes at Johnny and he seems to be actually considering it. 

“Let’s see what we can do,” Johnny winks at Hana and then cuts his gaze towards you. “Did you want one too?”

“Not today, thanks.” You hug your arms close to yourself. “I’m just here to support.”

Johnny stands up, and he’s a pretty big guy. He towers over you both, with his wide, but lanky, posture. He’s wearing a white t-shirt tucked into blue jeans, and a long chain hangs off his neck.

You’re eye-level with the lock charm on the chain. 

“Follow me,” he says. “Lucas is the only one taking walk-ins today, so hopefully you like his style.”

“She doesn’t get to choose a style with only twenty bucks to her name,” you quip, making Johnny laugh.

He turns the corner into a small, square room, where only one tattoo chair occupies the floor. Some unknown song plays from the large black and yellow speakers. It’s surfing music, something similar to The Beach Boys. It fits the location, but rejects the atmosphere of black and neon that these boys have cemented as their staple design.

There’s a sketching desk in the corner, where the previously mentioned speakers rest alongside a large monitor. The screen is taken fully by photoshop, where a tattoo design basks, just waiting to be praised.

You walk over; rest you hand on the back of the rolling chair, and stare at the design. It’s black and white ink. The silhouette is of a shark, but the body is a drawing of the beach. His fin is a wave, and his underbelly is the sand. It’s really beautiful. And when you look up at the sketches on the wall and notice that all of them are similar in their surrealistic nature. Charcoal sketches of beach scenes and ocean life and local fauna have you sort of mesmerized from the start.

“Do you like them?” Someone asks you from behind. It’s a new voice: deep and boyish, and you feel suddenly vulnerable for looking so deeply into someone else’s art.

“They’re really good,” You turn around as you reply, and any other words that might have made their way to your mouth are swallowed back down your throat, along with your dignity. 

He’s just as tall as Johnny — Does this place only hire tall guys? — but he’s cuter, in your opinion. You can barely see his big eyes, hidden behind dark brown strands of hair. You follow the line of his nose down until you reach his lips. They’re ruddy and seem to be permanently formed into a pretty pout. 

Then he’s smiling, and his teeth are bright and straight and you feel you breath knock out of your chest.

You manage to tear your eyes away from his mouth long enough to form a coherent sentence. “They’re really beautiful. Worth much more than twenty dollars.”

“Sorry?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

Johnny nudges Hana forward gently. “Lucas, this is Hana. Hana, Lucas. She wants a tattoo but only has twenty dollars.”

Hana gives Lucas a shy wave. “Sorry if it’s an inconvenience.”

“Not at all!” Lucas chuckles, and it’s soft and melodic and boyish. “Most of these are customs or just freehand. Tell me what you’re thinking design-wise, and I’ll see what I can cook up.“

Lucas walks past you to sit on his chair, so you retreat to the wall, awkwardly cocking your hip, arms crossed over your chest. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Johnny slaps the doorframe and heads back towards the front of the shop, and you’re left to wonder what you’re supposed to do.

Lucas uses the wheeled chair to get around. He wheels to the other side of the desk and pulls a large binder out of one of the drawers. “Here are some of my minimalist designs. That’s pretty much all a twenty is going to get you, so see if any of these interest or inspire you.”

Hana flips through the book, and Lucas turns to you. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/n,” you say, shifting your posture. “Here for moral support.”

Lucas locks his gaze into yours and repeats you name slowly, like he’s mulling it over. “Y/n. Would you like to sit down? You can take my spinny chair and I’ll go get a spare stool.”

“Are you sure—” he’s out of the room before you can finish your concern. You turn to Hana and shrug.

“He’s cute,” she whispers. She sits back on the chair and straightens her shirt.

You sit in the chair and roll over to the other side of Hana’s chair. “Are you gonna ignore the google eyes Johnny was giving you?”

“Oh, of course not.” Hana waves away your concern. “I got his number while you were snooping on Lucas’ monitor.”

“I wasn’t snooping!”

“You so were,” Hana grins at you, resting her chin on the palm of her head. “Anyways, I was gonna say Lucas is cute for you.”

“You’re impossible,” you shove her shoulder back with a shake of your head. “What did I say about summer boyfriends?”

“We don’t need them.” Hana pouts. She sticks her tongue out at you just as Lucas walks in. “I’m gonna get one anyway.”

“Get what?” Lucas sets his stool on the other side of Hana’s chair and looks at you.

You blink. “Um...” You avert your eyes to the loose thread sticking out of the chair handle. “Hana wants us each to have summer boyfriends.”

Lucas hums. He turns back to his desk and extracts the tattoo gun and a wrapped needle. He unwraps it and fits it in the gun. “Just for the summer?” His eyes are twinkling. Again, he’s asking you. It’s like Hana isn’t even in the room, which is new to you because everyone notices Hana first.

You almost answer. You’re about to when Hana shoves the book into Lucas’ hand. “I want the key design.”

Lucas pulls his gaze away from you and smiles at Hana. “Alright, let’s get started!”

☼

You visit the bike show later that week on your lunch break. Working at the small perfume shop on the boardwalk can be fun, but it certainly makes you want fresh air by noon.

You take a sip of the lemonade you bought and browse the bikes, stopping every once in awhile to talk to the owners.  

“Y/n!” Lucas’ voice rings across the boardwalk. He’s in front of Neo Tattoos, leaning against a cherry red Ducati. 

It’s way too hot for him to be wearing what he’s wearing. He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. His hair is down across his forehead again, slightly matted with sweat. He wipes his forehead and waves at you, arm long and tall above everyone’s head.

He looks incredibly dorky, and it puts a smile on your face. You walk over. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Just a little bit,” Lucas pinches his thumb and pointer finger together. Then he runs his fingers through his bangs and pushes them off of his forehead. “I look cooler this way, though.”

You look around, to see everyone else with their bikes. Most of them are in their swimsuits, or at least wearing only bottoms. You turn back to Lucas and push your lemonade towards him. “Take a sip before you get a heatstroke. And take off your jacket, at least.”

Lucas shrugs off his jacket, to reveal a red t-shirt underneath. “At least I match my bike.”

“This is yours?” You reach out and touch the shiny chrome. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you!” Lucas brightens up. He slaps the seat. “It’s the first thing I bought after opening Neo with Johnny.”

“I’m gonna get one one day,” you tell him. He gives you your lemonade cup back and you take a sip. “And a tattoo.”

“You’re gonna ask me to do it, right?” Lucas grins down at you.

How could you say no to that face? “Yeah. I really liked that shark design, if it isn’t reserved.”

“No,” Lucas hugs his jacket to his chest. “I was just messing around with designs. Give me a call when you’re ready, alright? I’ll give you my number.”

You return from your lunch break with an empty lemonade cup, the number of a cute boy, and a smile on your face.

☼

The next time you get a day off, you head over to Neo Tattoos for your appointment with Lucas. 

You two have been texting back and forth throughout the days. You’ve found that Lucas has a large arsenal of memes always at the ready. Another thing you’ve realized is that Lucas is the most adorable person you’ve ever known. He texts you every morning with a little picture of a baby sea turtle or dolphin or other baby marine animal. You reply with a random puppy picture you find on twitter, and every day it makes never fails to trigger an onslaught of heart emojis from Lucas.

It’s really cute.

Lucas is really cute. It’s probably too early to call it a crush, but it certainly feels like one, especially when you get called out by Hana for smiling at your text messages.

The chimes ring when you enter the parlor. “Hi, Johnny.”

“Lucas! Y/n is here!” Johnny yells into the hallway before turning to you. “He has been talking about this appointment all day.”

“Can you shut up?” You hear Lucas before you see him. He comes out of his room and smiles. “Hey, Y/n.”

“Hey, Lucas.” You scurry towards the back room, if only to avoid Johnny’s knowing stare. “How was your day?”

“Good. Better now that you’re here.” Lucas cocks his head to the side and gives you a cheesy smirk. 

You shove his shoulder back and climb onto the big chair. “Let’s get this over with. I have a date with the sun later.”

Lucas falls back into his spinning chair and scoots himself towards you. He rests his elbows beside your thigh and gleams up at you. “You’re gonna ditch me for a nap in the sun?”

He looks so boyishly handsome, smiling at you like that. He looks like someone in love. Like someone who is staring at their significant other in admiration.

It makes you feel vulnerable and naked. You clear your throat and shove your arm in front of his face. “So, forearm?”

Lucas turns on some music and gets started, stopping every few minutes to check with you. “Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad,” you say with a shake of your head. “Just a little sting here and there.”

Lucas holds his left palm out. “You can always squeeze my hand if it gets too much.”

“Do you want to hold my hand that bad, Lucas?” you tease, and the pink that creeps up his neck is enough for you to reach forward and grab his hand.

You hold it in your lap while he finishes up the tattoo, never really squeezing it. At most, you run your thumb along the back of his hand.

It feels good, his large hand encased in yours. His skin is almost as warm as the smile he gives you from time to time.

Soon, with a low hum and one last wipe down, your tattoo is done. “Let me bandage it, and then you can go one your stupid date.”

You giggle. “Are you jealous of the sun, Lucas?”

Lucas brings your hand to his cheek and hums, looking up to the ceiling. “Of course I’m jealous. I want you to spend more time with me.”

“What would you have in mind?” 

Lucas looks surprised. The color reappears in his cheeks and he clears his throat to collect himself. “Would you like to go on a ride with me? We could drive down to the pier and watch the sunset?”

You blink. Is Lucas asking you on a date? An actual date? As in, he likes you? 

“U-Uh, yeah.” You match his grin and feel your chest warm. More confidently, you manage a nod. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

☼

You pick up dinner while Lucas finishes up his shift, and when you return, he’s got that stupid leather jacket on again. He sees the bag of fast food and opens his backpack. “Do you mind wearing this on the way?”

“No,” you giggle. “But let’s get going. I’m hungry.”

Lucas swings his leg over the seat and passes a helmet to you. He revs his bike. “As you wish.”

You swing your legs around and grab his waist, clasping your hands together. Palms against his abdomen, you can feel the smooth lines underneath. It flusters you. Still, you don’t move your hands for the bigger fear of falling off.

Besides, being this close to Lucas is quite nice.

Lucas parks his bike next to a bicycle rack just off the pier’s entrance. 

“I’m not sure you can park here, Lucas.”

Lucas looks ethereal in the light of the setting sun. His large eyes peer down at you, and with a smile grazing his features, he looks like an angel. He shrugs, “It says bike rack.”

“You’re crazy,” you say, eyes bright. 

Lucas bumps his shoulder against yours and grabs for your hand. Linking his fingers with yours, he swings your hands back and forth as the two of you walk towards the end of the pier.

There’s a railing for public safety. Lucas fits his long legs through the lower bars anyways. His feet dangle in the air. “Let’s eat!” He raises his fists in the air.

You avoid the annoyed stares of onlookers and follow Lucas’ actions. You fit your legs under the bars.

The two of you eat burgers and watch as the sunset returns to its bed behind the sea. 

“It’s beautiful,” Lucas says. He reaches his hands out towards the darkening sky. “I love this island. I never want to leave.”

“Me neither,” you sigh. The lighthouse beam switches on, and the beam falls over the two of you before finding its place in the air. You watch the light turn. “I’m glad I came out here with you.”

Lucas grins. His cheeks are blossoming into reds and pinks and you like the way flustered looks on him. “Me too,” he says. “Genuinely. I really like you.”

“I like you too.” You scoot closer to him and rest your head against his arm. “A lot.”

☼

The sun is scorching. It causes an instant sweat the moment you walk under the rays. “Alright, Jaemin?”

The lifeguard waves at you from his perch, a silver whistle pressed between his lips. “Lucas was looking for you,” he says around the metal.

“Don’t tell him I’m here,” you say. “Give me a minute underneath the sun without him or Hana ruining it.”

“Copy,” Jaemin says with a salute, giggling at your perturbed expression. He’s been particularly happy lately. You wonder why.

No matter, you decide, choosing to focus on your plans for today: laying in the sun and ignoring life in general.

The island fills your senses. The sound of the waves; of children playing; of seagulls screaming for food. It’s everything Salos is, and it feels like home. Nothing makes you feel more at peace than here, on the beach. To feel the sand beneath you and know the entire ocean is only a few yards away; that’s heaven.

What isn’t heaven is when a large cloud covers the sun, keeping you from receiving warmth.

You open your eyes, ready to glare at the cloud in annoyance.

Only it isn’t a cloud; it’s Lucas. His large frame blocks the sun from you. His smile is just as bright, though, so you find yourself not minding quite as much. “Hey, Lucas. What’s up?”

Lucas gives you an apologetic grin and sheds his leather jacket. “Sorry for bothering you. I was on my break and I saw you over here. Can I sit with you?”

“Go for it.” You scoot over on the towel so Lucas has room. 

He plops down, dropping his backpack in front of him. He extracts an apple. “Do you want one? I packed two.”

You take a bite of the offered apple and lean your arm against Lucas’. “How was your morning?”

“Good,” Lucas says in his deep voice. “Only two appointments, but the first one took three hours. My hands hurt.”

You take the hand he isn’t holding his apple with and begin to gently massage it. You knead circular motions into his palm and fingers, discarding your apple in favor of the task at hand. 

“You don’t- You don’t have to do that.” Red blossoms across Lucas’ neck. He watches his hand encased in both of yours. 

“I want to,” you say. Lucas’ eyes flit across your face, and you feel openly vulnerable with your face so close to his.

Especially now, when your face is bare of everything, save SPF 80 sunscreen. You can just picture your bright red cheeks and peeling nose. Maybe your lips are chapped too, since you forgot to apply chapstick this morning.

Lucas doesn’t mention any of this, so you assume you’re just overreacting. 

“Y/n?” Lucas asks. He licks his lips, quickly, but you catch the motion.

You know what’s coming. Truthfully, it’s been coming since the day you met Lucas; when the tension began. Then came the feelings, and you’ve been stuck ever since. 

Maybe Lucas has been stuck too.

He ever-so-gently reaches up and tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind your ear. His hands are sticky from the apple juice, but you can’t really be bothered to care right now. Not when Lucas is treating you so softly. 

Your senses zone in on Lucas only. His large brown eyes, colorful tattoos, and too-long bangs falling into his eyes. His scent, like some generic body wash that smells boyish and soft, just like Lucas. 

His lips, pouty and smooth and pink. 

His fingertips trace down from your hairline to your chin. When his thumb swipes across your lips, your breath catches in your throat.

Then Lucas is leaning in, too fast for you to even think about what he’s going to do. Well, obviously he’s going to kiss you, but your brain seems to be filled with nothing but warning bells and signals screaming for you to lower your adrenaline levels. 

His lips fold into yours almost perfectly. Your thoughts turn over into the feeling of his fingertips trailing down your neck. His palm rests in the junction between your neck and shoulder. He pulls your closer to him and sighs against your mouth.

You move your lips, smiling when his nose bumps into yours. He tastes like green apples. You rest your hand on his knee and lean in closer. You giggle at the surprised noise that escapes his mouth. 

The sound of a whistle makes the two of you jump apart. 

“No kissing on the public beach!” Jaemin shouts at the two of you, no real venom in his voice.

You kiss Lucas once more and give Jaemin the bird. 

He whistles again. “That’s illegal!”

“It’s not,” Lucas giggles, hiding his face in the crook of you neck. 

☼

You walk into Neo Tattoos. “Where’s Lucas?”

Johnny closes his magazine and looks at you. “Well hello to you, too.”

“I brought him a lemonade and my break is almost over,” you say in passing, heading for the back.

“Lucas!”

“Y/n!” He shouts back.

You enter to see him with a customer. He’s so cute when he’s focused. You look at his gloved hands and furrowed brows. It makes you lean against the doorframe and watch him fondly for a moment. 

He finally looks away from his customer. “Hey, Darlin’”

His wide smile makes the trip across the boardwalk worth it. You hand him the lemonade. “I have to get back to the shop, but I wanted to see you real quick.”

Lucas stands up and pulls off his gloves. “You’re too kind. Can I come visit you after my shift and take you out?”

“I’d like that a lot.” You kiss him and squeeze him tightly. Hopefully he can feel all of your love through your hug.

Because you really love this boy. He softens your world and makes everything feel warmer. He encases you in an eternal summer, and you don’t ever want it to end.

[boku-no-loveletters]

Hello!! Could I get a match up with the league villains?🥺 I’m 170cm tall, I’m skinny (sadly I’m shaped like the letter I and rll self conscious ab it) I have shoulder length brown hair with two blonde stripes in the front, grey eyes. I’m a mix of a calm and logical person and a childish person with dumb jokes who can’t even sit still. I luv playing video games, reading, drawing. I usually wear dark oversized clothes or baggy pants with small tops. I’m european so my accent is rll thicc.Thank u!

Hey, what’s up? Hope you enjoy your match-up!

I matched you up with…

Shigaraki!

He's feral but I loved him since the beginning

-Now there are actually multiple reasons as to why I matched you up with Shigaraki, one of them being the fact that you are calm and logical but still allowing yourself to be loose and crack a few jokes sometimes. I think Shigaraki would respect that and probably admire your humor.

-Being calm and logical around Shigaraki is important, because he has very heavy mood-swings and being able to keep your composure if he switches dispositions will earn his approval. And while that is important, Shigaraki would probably also enjoy a carefree soul, so if you have the tendency to slip a dirty joke in on a conversation and make him crack a smile then you’re on the right path.

-The chances of you and him running into each other would either be by pure chance or an unintended every day occurrence. He could be a casual looking citizen who you have no idea is walking around in the streets with other people or he could be the one who was responsible for holding you captive. In an accident.

Well shit.

This is how it ends, huh? Being restrained in a villain warehouse where nobody will find you after they strip you of your skin and throw you out the door faster than you could say ‘sorry’?

Not to mention, earlier you kept thinking that nothing bad was going to happen today. That everything was going to be sugar and rainbows, that it was all going to be fine. But you were oh, so wrong.

"You fucking jinxed it, you idiot," you growled to yourself before attempting to slam the large and heavy cuffs on your wrist down on the metal chains dangling from your ankle.

But it didn’t budge, you reeled back the both of your wrists and tried again, still to no avail.

To be honest, you had absolutely no idea as to why you were being held here in this crappy makeshift hideout against your will. One minute, you were simply walking out of your apartment going to get some much-needed groceries from the store, and the next thing you know, you're being stabbed with a needle in your neck before blacking out completely.

Snarling in disappointment, you took a deep breath and then slumped down to your knees with your back facing the wall. After your little endeavor at trying to break free, your body temperature flared up and made you more heated up than normal. You must be getting sick or something because it was either you or the bands on your wrist making you burn up!

But the metal of the room surrounding you was unusually cold and so you used that to your advantage and turned gently, making sure to press as much skin to the wall as you could. The chilled and smooth surface helped immensely as you felt the searing hot sensation fade away.

You sat for a moment, feeling a wave of drowsiness hit your senses as you continued to be still.

How long have you been out? Would it be appropriate if you were to fall asleep again? Well, it's not like you were going anywhere soon and it certainly didn't feel like it was going to harm you if you got any sleep.

So you did. You closed your eyes deliberately before shifting into a more comfortable position and getting some well-earned sleep, hoping to have some sort of good dream before dwelling into your death.

But unfortunately, your time had come sooner than expected. Because as immediately as you tried to gain some repose, a soft click could be heard echoing across the room as the door unlocked to reveal a pale hand lightly opening the large ingot door leading to the entrance.

The pale hand followed up to unveil the shape of a man dressed in a plain black trench coat and tacky dress pants with multiple detached hands on different parts of his clothed limbs. Three were seated on each arm and his shoulders had one individually while his neck and the back of his head had one apiece. The most interesting one, however, was the single hand obscuring his identity from your view.

You could see he was dangerous. Not just because of the limbs, but rather the ominous demeanor he held over his presence and the fact that he seems fully aware of your current situation.

Not long after he had walked in was he followed by two other figures. One was a male with jet-black hair in another simple black jacket and matching pants with various amounts of marks and staples decorating his scarred body and the other was a shorter female. Her ash-blonde hair was loosely wrapped in twin buns, strands of wild stray hairs centering in different angles as two fringes on each side of her face framed her oddly innocent looking appearance as she donned a plain seifuku with a regular Kansai collar.

The greyish-blueish haired male mentioned beforehand was staged in the center of the room and the two other people, which you assumed to be his associates, positioned themselves each on one side of him.

Silence enveloped the room, the heavy steps of their shoes coming to a stop as they gained sight of your poor, slightly hunched figure.

He then clasped his hands behind his back before turning, what you thought to be, his gaze to the other walls. His back faced you as his accomplices kept their eyes fixed on you, watching your every movement so that you didn’t aim to escape.

“So, ” he began, “Do you know why you were brought here for?”

You shook your head no as you tried to keep your cool, already feeling the tension in the room rise by the minute. The burning sensation from a while ago returned and grew from warm to nauseating as it quickly surrounded your senses. Sweat began dripping down your forehead as your stomach did reoccurring backflips.

You could almost feel the other two burn their eyes into your torso, internally gnawing at your emotions despite their placid expressions.

He simply hummed before returning his sight on you, his hands still not leaving their positions as he took a few strides in your direction and stopped a couple of centimeters away from your feet.

You lifted your head to gape directly at the hand covering his face and from the side of your perception, you could make out a pair of piercing blood-red orbs. The wicked glint in his eyes threatening to make you lose your composure, as he then backed away to give you some space. Much to your relief as you released a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You internally quivered as you let your gaze drop to the floor before hearing a heavy sigh of what appeared to be..frustration?

"There has appeared to have been a mistake made. You are not whom I intended to be after." he finally spoke, the stillness after was deafening.

"The idiots out there must have grabbed the wrong woman," he emphasized, " A woman with brunette hair, just like you."

You raised your head and suddenly put up the largest grin you could muster at the moment. Your whole dampened attitude instantly lighting up at the possibility to live another day and forget all about this encounter.

"But, another problem strikes the current situation at hand. We simply can't let you free and go off telling another hero about our location, " he defined as your smile began to falter.

"So we'll give you three options. We'll let you go scot-free and you keep your mouth shut while my subordinates check in on you from time to time, you join the league free of surveillance and a life free of heroes, or you die at the hands of my comrades?"

"Wait...You're giving me a choice? For real?" you questioned, "You're not just going to kill me?

"No, I am not, " he answered, "Why would I? It'd be a waste and sweeping up the ashes of another dead person and concealing the evidence is enough work already."

You shivered in fear but still hummed in agreement, yet slightly suspicious of this man's intentions but not willing or bold enough to question his motives. So you went with the safest alternative, they let you go and kept an eye on you while you continued to live out your daily life in semi-peace.

"The first choice," you replied confidently. "I don't want to be involved in you guy's problem and I'm sure the other option is self-explanatory, Mr. Handyman."

He simply chuckled dryly in response to your joke before looking at you once more and snapping his fingers, then everything went black.

-You were knocked out, again. Though the next time you woke up, you found yourself in your living room laying on the couch unharmed. You checked you wrists to find that the cuffs of your restraints left a mark deep in your skin as it burned a bright sweltering red. You didn’t notice a bright piece of yellow paper sticking to your chest until you brushed your fingers over your collarbone. A neon lemon sticky note was attached to your shirt, you ripped it off and examined it closely. It said…

-Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open, we’ll be watching you.

-And so you didn’t really sleep that night because of both the LOV and the fact that you had taken more than the usual amounts of naps you were prone to take during your free time. But other than that you continued on with your life and moved on, almost forgetting your previous encounter with the S rank villain.

-The next time you had met him was when he arrived about a month later and by that time you had nearly forgotten all about what happened back there. So when he came to check up on your status and making sure you weren’t attempting to leave the country, he was surprised to find you living comfortably with no sign of your apartment faltering and in poor conditions.

-He knocked and waited patiently, his casual black hood and oddly bright red sneakers helped concealed his identity as he stood still. He had imagined that you thought that you were being left along, that you would trembled beneath his gaze again. But when you opened the door to reveal yourself, you just stared at him.

-You stood there trying to remember who this man was, but he didn’t say anything and instead pushed you aside and made himself at home. He walked to your living room and plopped himself on the couch before removing the hood from his head.

- “Oh, yeah Mr.Handyman”

-You didn’t say anything and instead switched the TV on. You sat down next to him as you felt his eyes burn holes into your back.

-And that’s how it went on for weeks, Shigaraki would always come up to your place to ‘Check and make sure you’re not alerting anyone’ and basically just hang out. The probability of him actually getting comfortable would take somewhere around 2-3 months once he realizes you’re not a threat.

-He won’t even do that much except lounge around and play video games with you, it’s not that villainous except for when he threatens you.

-I think that Shigaraki would enjoy playing video games with you as long as you let him win sometimes. He’s extremely petty so if you won three times in a row and haven't let him get in on a victory , he’ll probably make a fuss about it and not play for awhile. If you’re drawing or reading and not paying attention to him, that’ll probably get on his nerves a little bit too.

-He’s a dick. And yes, that’s something to worry about.

-Love…what is that? Sounds disgusting. Shigaraki is not that emotionally intelligent due to the fact that he had been deprived of tenderness the majority of his childhood so having someone act normal around him and unintentionally be kind to him makes him feel…weird. He doesn’t understand what the warm feeling in his chest is and why it makes him stir.

-You can make him crack a smile. You can make him laugh with your corny jokes and lift up his spirit after a bad day. He doesn’t know what it is, but he likes it and wants all of it.

-So the next time he had come in, he had told you about what kind of odd effect you had on him as he described it in the most surreal way he could say it. When you explained the feelings to him, you had also suggested dating to which he agreed after he had a proper grip on what he had just been told.

-Now Shigaraki has not received a lot of affection from his family during his childhood, only his mother and sister has provided him with physical endearment so that will obviously have an impact on his behavior now that he realizes how touch-starved he’s been.

-He will not however, under no circumstances, put his hands on you unless the situation calls for it or you gave him permission to. He does not want the same incident to happen to his significant other as it did his family. That’s the reason why he starts slightly trembling, which could be indicating a panic attack (as I imagined him to have a handful of episodes already.

-So If that happens, then you’d have to use your rationality and be careful. Get his special gloves and calm him down through the emotional episodes.

-I don't think the rest of LOV would mind you, Dabi wouldn't care about you at all but would still keep an eye on you while Toga and Twice ;-; would make small talk with you.

-So Shigaraki and you are more than a perfect fit, your personality traits don’t exactly clash but instead pick up where another one falls down! Your decisiveness and rationality along with your humor and liveliness helps balance you on the scale whereas Shigaraki’s standoffish and aloof position keep you both on your feet.

So I hope you liked this match-up! Writing the clip for this one was fun!

@idontknowuwu3

[today-we-will-survive]

Let Us Light Up the Night

gif made by me

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning: none

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Had to write this after making my Dream Glow moodboard 💜

The lightbulbs in the chandelier hanging high above everyone’s heads have been replaced with black lights. Colored strobes pulse around the perimeter making the whole place look like it’s underwater, people dancing and swaying to the music like they’re caught in the undercurrent. The ultraviolet lights reflect off the neon paint splattered across the walls and painted on everyone’s bodies turning the whole place into a live, pulsing piece of psychedelic art.

You can only stand in the entrance to the party for a while, your eyes wandering but never really focusing on any one thing because there’s just so much going. The music rattles the floor and pounds against your chest, the black lights completely blow your vision out making anything that isn’t glowing just blur into fuzzy, dark blobs. Purple colored smiles and whites of eyes jump out of the neon tinted chaos seeming almost scary, until a figure seems to materialize in front of you out of nowhere and your eyes finally have something to focus on.

“Y/N!” Taehyung has to practically scream to be heard over the music, even though he’s standing just a couple feet in front of you. He has a bright green handprint curling around the side of his neck, a spattering of yellow, orange, pink and green speckling his face like stars and his blue hair glows like strands of fiber optics in the strange lighting, making him look otherworldly. You sure have a beautiful best friend. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Yeah,” you yell back. “Me too!”

Taehyung doesn’t look completely convinced. In fact he almost looks a little surprised that you actually did show up. Especially with how resistant you were when he texted you about the party in the first place. You tried to feign ignorance, saying you hadn’t known about the party and that you need more than a couple hours notice but that didn’t really work.  In all honesty, you did know about the party. You’ve known about it for weeks You just didn’t really want to come. Mostly because you knew Jimin would be here.

After all, it is his frat that’s throwing the party. But besides that, it’s also Taehyung’s and with this being his first party after being inducted, you have to be the supportive best friend, right? Even if the boy you’ve pined over for the past two years is here.

Besides, after the hectic week this has been, you need to be able to let loose a little. And hey, maybe you won’t even see Jimin. Maybe you could just stay close to Taehyung the whole time and just hang out with him and his friends. After all, it’s not like you can really pick out individual faces here anyway unless the person’s standing right in front of you like your best friend currently is, his teeth glowing purple as he grins at you eagerly. It’ll be okay. This’ll be fun.

“Let’s dance!” you yell over the music and grab Taehyung’s arm.

But before you can drag him into the crowd, he closes his wrist around your own and pulls you closer. “No way, we gotta paint you up first!”

“I don’t know, Tae,” you say eying the crowd, faces and bodies glowing with strange designs and splatters of neon yellows and greens and pinks. “I’m not really a paint person.”

“You are tonight,” he says with a smile then drags you along behind him before you have the chance to argue.

You end up with an elaborate, though hastily done scattering of dots framing half your face, starting from your temple and trailing down the curve of your jaw before spreading across your collar bones into a starry sky. Taehyung finishes it off with two yellow prints in the shapes of his big hands on both of your forearms before leading you at last onto the dance floor.

As you melt into the crowd, you also feel the weight of the past week begin to melt away as well. The air around you, though hot and a bit stifling, is so full of energy that you can’t help but feel replenished somehow. Like a newly charged battery. You’re glad you came.

It’s easy to get lost in the moment. To close your eyes and feel like you’re not just one person but part of something bigger. Like a drop in an ocean just moving where the current takes you. You spend entire songs dancing like this, the world disappearing, your surroundings morphing into nothing more than the brushes of arms and bodies against you, the heavy bass pounding against your chest, the rumbling floor under your feet, the bright colors flashing and dancing behind your eyelids.

But finally, you do open your eyes, and when you do, they somehow know exactly where to go. It’s as if there’s some sort of magnetic pull drawing your attention past Taehyung where he’s dancing in front of you and causing you to lock your eyes with the very person you were hoping you wouldn’t see tonight.

“Jimin,” you utter. His name leaves your lips tingling, your heart pounding harder against your chest from the inside than the music does from the outside. You hoped so hard you wouldn’t see him that you almost convinced yourself that maybe he wasn’t even actually here. You should have known better. Because not only is he standing there against the wall in the flesh, but the intricate glowing white swirls of paint climbing up his bare torso like tendrils of smoke and weaving around his collarbones before branching off in either direction and spilling down his arms makes him somehow stand out above the rest of the paint splattered partiers surrounding you. He’s lit up like a neon sign. Impossible not to see. Impossible to tear your eyes away from even as he starts making his way toward you.

What is it about Park Jimin that’s had you mesmerized since you first laid eyes on him your freshman year? Was it the way his then bright pink hair contrasted his quiet, gentle nature? Was it the fact that he could be the sweetest, most shy soul you’ve ever met one second and then as fast as lightning morph into this strangely confident, intimidating man that could bring anyone to their knees with one icy stare? He’s always been a mystery to you. A puzzle to be solved. And yet, it seems like any time you’ve felt like you were getting close to cracking the code, he’d throw up another wall, another obstacle for you to have to face before you could get to him. He’s always seemed guarded. Even when the two of you were close friends. And you were close. Closer than you and Tae, actually, at one point. But then something happened.

What it was? You may never know. All you do know is that Jimin suddenly stopped answering your texts. Stopped sitting next to you in class. Started outright avoiding you around campus. And you still have no idea why.

But now he’s weaving his way through the crowd toward you, somehow perfectly clear in this blur of blue and neon tinged bodies and all you can do is watch him, your feet planted firmly on the floor. A statue buried halfway in the ocean floor while everyone else is riding the current.

You watch him place a gentle hand on Taehyung’s arm and your eyes dart down to the icy swirls painted on the backs of his hands and ghosting down to brush over his knuckles. Taehyung cranes his neck then tips his head in acknowledgement before Jimin nods toward you. You only see out of your peripheral that Taehyung looks back in your direction because you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from Jimin. But then your best friend is gone, faded into the background along with everyone else and Jimin is stepping toward you, tentatively reaching out to touch your side as if asking for permission without actually asking. You can only just barely nod before his arm snakes around your waist and he applies the slightest amount of pressure to urge you to close the gap between you two.

Your body is flush with his, the warmth of his skin seeping in through the thin material of your tank top and he leans in toward you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his voice low but still loud enough to be heard over the music. It’s nothing like the way Taehyung had to yell at you to be understood. No, Jimin’s voice somehow manages to still be soft yet you hear every spoken word perfectly clear. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

You pull away so you can look at him, searching his eyes for any sort of clue as to what suddenly brought this on. His face, though tinged blue under the sharp black lights is still the same face you’ve always known. Better though, because it’s the version you remember from before everything turned to crap.

“You want to talk to me here?” you ask. “Now?”

“Well, no—I mean,” he bites down on his lip in thought then tilts his head back in the direction he came from.

You shake your own head, the anger finally pushing through the haze that was clouding your mind up until moments ago. “You want to talk? You should have come to me months ago. Not now just because I happened to show up at a party at your frat. I don’t want to hear what you have to say now,” you say then turn away and try to disappear into the crowd. Unfortunately, Jimin has a firm grip on you and digs his fingers into your hip, pulling you back to him until your shoulder blades rest against his chest.

“Just please let me explain,” he says.

You want to keep being mad at him. After all, he hurt you. And what kind of person would you be if you just let him sweet talk you into forgiving him as if nothing ever happened? Why feed his ego when you know he could just easily slip right back out of your life again?

“Why would I let you do that?” you ask him. “Why would I let you try and justify the fact that you’ve been avoiding me for the past two months?” Then you turn around so you can look him straight in the eye. “Why do you think you deserve my forgiveness, Jimin?”

He looks back at you, surely not having expected you to be so blatant. But then at last he opens his mouth. “I don’t want to justify what I did, Y/N,” he says dipping his head low so his lips are close enough for you to hear him over the music. “I know it was wrong. I knew it was wrong while I was doing it but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” you ask breathlessly. The air between the two of you is too hot, too thick. Too energized.

“I don’t want you to feel bad for me,” Jimin says. “You don’t even have to talk to me after this. Ever again. I just want to explain.”

“Fine.”

“Do you remember the last time we hung out?” he asks.

You’ve been playing that night back in your mind over and over, trying to figure out at which point it was that everything suddenly changed. What did you do to make Jimin suddenly want to stop talking to you? “How could I forget? You just disappeared, Jimin,” you say then before you can stop yourself, you bring a hand up and use a finger to lightly trace one of the white wisps on his chest. “Like smoke,” you utter softly enough that he probably didn’t hear.

“I had to,” he says shakily.

“No you didn’t.”

“Yeah I did. I either had to cut all ties, or face the fact that I’m in love with you.”

Your palm falls flat against him, his heart pounding beneath it as your eyes shoot up now to meet his. You begin searching for any sign that this is some sick joke. Maybe he’s known your feelings for him this whole time. Maybe someone tipped him off. Taehyung probably. You’ll kill him.

“Jimin, why are you doing this?” you ask feeling embarrassment creep up your neck.

“Doing what?”

“Doing what,” you utter and let out a pathetic chuckle. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know. Who was it? Who told you? Was it Yoongi?”

“What?”

“Was it Taehyung?”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he asks stepping back now from you.

Your hands come up to rake down your face and you feel the paint smearing across your skin. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have come. I just need to leave.”

“No, please,” Jimin says quickly and grabs your hands. “Please tell me what you’re talking about. I’m floundering here, Y/N.”

You can only laugh at how erratic you must sound. At how much of a mess you must look like. “Jimin, I’ve liked you for literal years. I’ve loved you for so long and now you’re just throwing it back in my face after already making me feel like an idiot for ever thinking you could love me back. I get it, alright? I got your message. You don’t have to taunt me like this. You don’t have to be cruel.”

Jimin comes forward in one quick motion, gripping your face between his hands until you’re mere inches from him. “Y/N, I had no idea. I promise I’m not joking. Please, believe me. I love you, okay? I’ve loved you this whole time and I thought that you didn’t love me back and that you never would and I freaked out and didn’t know what to do and I know disappearing like that was the literal worst thing I could have done—”

“The literal worst,” you gasp in agreement.

“—and I wish I could take it all back. All of it right up to when I realized I loved you because if I could take it back I would have spent the last two months showing you how much I love you and telling you and holding you and kissing you and I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry and you don’t have to forgive me but you just need to know, okay?”

You can only look at him—after all, his face is so close to your own that he seems to be taking up your entire world. The music has somehow faded into the background even as it continues to pound against you, your whole body having gone numb yet somehow still buzzing. And you can feel his thumb sliding over the slick wet paint smeared across your cheekbone and you can feel his breath hitting your skin in rapid bursts and you can feel his lungs expanding under his ribs where they press against your own and you can feel the anger in you morphing into something else. Relief. Sweet relief because the boy you love loves you too.

[ryewi]

Midnight Memories - kth

Summary: Drinks, a stolen shopping cart, spray cans and the good old “if we get caught, I’m deaf and you don’t speak English” saying - honestly what have you gotten yourself into with a goof named Kim Taehyung this time?

Genre: fluff, crack (or atleast an attempt), friends to lovers

Words: 2,9k

Warnings: language

Early AN: I don’t know I wanted to do with this summary so please continue reading, the fic isn’t that lame,,, 

You were immensely thankful for Taehyung.

It’s a rarity for someone to meet their perfect person so early in life. Usually, people wait past their teenage years to settle down for someone, often scared that judging too soon will only lead to disappointment and trouble. Frequently, their predictions and beliefs were right, yet, just like in every other scenario, there are exceptions. Somehow, that exception just so happened to be you.

When you met, just a year ago through a mutual friend Ollie, Taehyung and you seemed to click from the first second. It’s as if the heavens above were sick of always seeing you with wrong people, deciding to send their most precious angel to finally show you real friendship.

The first encounter was always a slightly funny event to reminisce about, especially because of Ollie’s disappointed (but not surprised) face. About two minutes into his narration of hot news, he realized that the two of you appeared to have forgotten about him, already lost in your own world. Often, he’d vocalize how “he knew you would hit it off”, slight dissatisfaction and pique evident in his voice.

Even now, as you watched the sunset, leaning on a stolen shopping cart, all you could think about was the man currently sitting inside of it. The silver haired boy was humming an unknown, probably made-up melody, fingers tapping gently on the metal around him. Taehyung was someone who made you find happiness, smile, someone who tried to understand even if he couldn’t relate, a boy who taught you how to enjoy life.

You held Taehyung dear to heart, but those feelings never really escalated into something more, both parties way too comfortable with how things already were. It would be that easy to put a label to whatever was going on, but really, what would change? Sudden back hugs, ticklish neck kisses, good morning/goodnight texts, hand holding and way too frequent dates surely wouldn’t.

You were sure that Taehyung and you were in a rather unofficial relationship, but really, neither of you had the problem with it.

“Well that was...good, how about we uh, switch?” Taehyung said, his words were slurred and all over the place, consumed bottle of convenience store vodka finally affecting him “I have the goodest idea ever, involving contents inside of this bag” he pointed towards his crotch, where a zipped, black schoolbag rested peacefully. Without any apparent reason, Taehyung laughed, before he mumbled something incoherent, eyes still focused on his middle ground. Although the bottle of alcohol wasn’t even a liter, neither of you were sober. You were in a slightly better situation, while Taehyung was gone, low alcohol tolerance finally biting him in the ass.

Humming in acceptance, you watched him stand up inside of the metal vehicle, legs wobbly and balance nonexistent. Eventually, after refusing help around seven times, Taehyung managed to climb out, chucking the bottle away, instant sound of shattering glass filling the small space around you. Five minutes later, you were comfortably (well, as comfortable as possible) seated inside and with legs lifted up on the front, ordered Taehyung to drive you around.

Thankful for Taehyung and his unusual date ideas.

•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·

This was such a foolish and delusional idea. Yet you went along with it.

“Remind me why am I drawing a five-inch cock inside of this poor man’s mouth?” You laughed, short and repetitive puffs of air leaving your parted lips. You’ve seen this face a thousand times, but thanks to your intoxicated state, his name just couldn’t jump from the tip of your tongue.  

Taehyung was on a task of his own, hood covering nearly his whole head, while the fully black attire made him nearly invisible in such a dimly lit street. If it wasn’t for a few stray silver strands of hair escaping from underneath the thick hood, you wouldn’t be sure if the person next to you even was Taehyung.  

“Interesting and quick measurement, but the example is pitiful” He joked, gravely deep voice echoing throughout the small space, somehow coming off even deeper in such a quiet place. It took a moment for you to process his answer, before it hit you.

“Well maybe if your example was on here too, you wouldn’t pity this one at all” You could swear that you heard Taehyung’s neck snap from how fast he turned around, mouth agape and eyes wide open. Check mate.

“Bet?” Taehyung replied, his previously shocked expression now exchanged for a cockier and flirtier one. He stopped spraying his piece with an obnoxious, neon yellow color and took the chance of your own bewilderment to approach you quick. Soon enough, his face was mere inches away from yours, the same confident smirk, still playing on his beautiful lips.

“Sorry I only accept bets which I can gain something from” To this reply, Taehyung had to step back and examine your face, that was becoming redder with each passing second, although not quite from embarrassment, “and I can’t guarantee that I’ll gain anything from yours”. His expression was a mix of forty different emotions, creating a huge dumbfounded mess on his face. Gosh, this is why he loved you so much.

A pair of lights approaching from behind a corner, caught you off guard, causing panic to show up on your face quick, cutting short Taehyung’s incoming comeback. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick to retreat, as two strong men carrying flashlights and long black batons, took notice of your problematic prescience.

“There they are” You heard one of them say to the other, their pace becoming faster and steps extending in length. Taehyung’s hand was immediately in yours and he seemed to get the memo, heading straight towards a nearby bush where the two of you hid the shopping cart.  

In any other circumstance, you would’ve faced these two men, asked for a reason of their interrogation and tried to negotiate if there was a problem, but tonight, not so much. Drunk, smelling of alcohol with tons of spray cans around you, drawing a dick inside the mouth of Ms. Barrera son (Gilbert was his forsaken name, you remembered), really, could you negotiate?  

“I’ll drive, I’m stronger” Taehyung’s deep voice, now clearer than before, suddenly filled your ears. It sent some kind of warmth throughout your body, coaxed you to stop running and enjoy his beautiful words, focus completely on them. Alas, there was no time for that, as Taehyung offered you help with jumping in, all while watching behind at policemen that were appearing closer and closer, their steps echoing through the street. Once you were safely (but uncomfortably) positioned inside of the metal cage, Taehyung pushed the cart with much force, sending the two of you away. Unfortunately, because of the weight of two humans, that the vehicle wasn’t produced to bear, your speed was limited.

Especially when you made it out into a more crowded area.

You managed to maneuver around, driving in the most ridiculous conveyance ever, occasionally watching over your backs to check if you were safe yet. The whole situation was incredibly funny: two drunk kids, having the time of their lives in a shopping cart, driving away from cops. You would be disappointed if the whole chase wasn’t live airing on TV, may haps on Friday Failures or Live Reviews Friday on channel 7.

“Remember, if we get caught, I’m deaf and you speak German” Taehyung spoke up, leaning down to whisper-shout these words in your ear, once again surprising you. Turning around after processing the words, you gave him the most staggering look. If you get caught? Why’s that even a possibility? Why’s he the deaf one?!

“Hey don’t look at me like that, you know I’m not good with langua-”

“TAEHYUNG STO-” You screamed, flailing your arms around, as if it’ll help the sudden impact against a thick, but small concreate wall. Thankfully, your legs were tucked in, therefore the collision didn’t deform them – while saying the same for the frontal metal bars wasn’t possible.

Taehyung was in the process of helping you out, when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder. Squinting his eyes and pursuing his lips into a thin line, Taehyung turned around, facing just who he expected to be behind him. You managed to climb out alone, joining your friend at what felt like awaiting of a death sentence. Their eyes pierced through yours, sudden meeting with authority making you feel rather uncomfortable.  

Taehyung’s hand found yours and he squeezed it, letting you know that everything will be okay. In the end how bad could things be?

“Do the two of you have any excuses for your behavior?” One of them said, voice strong and deep, hands in pockets, while the other seemed to be writing something on a small notepad. His pencil apparently wasn’t working and his intense scribbling on the paper and infuriated face made you giggle. Taehyung squeezed your hand once again, urging you to stay serious.

Upon not receiving an answer, the man raised his eyebrows, hoping that’ll urge you to answer. Raising your eyebrows back you held your hands out, in a confused manner and shrugged back. He repeated the action, this time making sure to stare right at you, but you only copied his action. It was Taehyung’s time to giggle, the awkward eyebrow raising that carried on for half a minute was way too hilarious.

“So, you don’t? May I have your documents?” Truthfully, if you weren’t this ready to jump into a fake persona and act this encounter out, you’d probably be shaking with anxiety at a cop asking for your documents. Deciding to let one more awkward silence fill the space, you once again focused on the other poor man, that was still struggling with his ballpoint pen. It took your everything to not walk over and offer him one of your own – yet then remembered that you had none at yourself, so truly, it just wasn’t this man’s day.

“Entschuldigung, ich spreche kein English, sprichst du Deutsch?” Asking, you watched as policeman’s face twisted in confusion, obviously taken aback by your way, or more so language. He was too old for this and he silently begged for you to spare him.

“We had a call, asking for assistance with deliquents that keep spreading malicious art obviously aimed at a certain person, which also wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done so” The older said, massaging his forehead as to emphasize his irritation with your way of acting. He sighed, turning around to face the other man behind, whispering something, but not loud enough for it to reach your ears. Your heart picked up pace, now beating faster than before, sudden anxiety overtaking your body once again. When they turned around, you took a chance to slide in a few more convincing words, hoping that they’ll work or gain you a point in this encounter.

“Ich spreche kein English und er ist taub” Trying again, you wanted to bribe out any kind of answer from the man before you, any kind of confirmation that your plan is working. “No English”, you pointed at yourself, then proceeded to point at the boy on your right, pointing at his ears and flailing your arms around in a dismissal movement “No ear”.

Taehyung nearly spat at the man’s face at your trial of broken translation.

“According to Ms. Barrera-”  

“Oh for fucks sake, that wrinkly dirtbag, when will she learn not to mess with the younger generation?” Taehyung spoke up, taking a step forwards and seemingly protecting you from any possible harm these men could cause. “Well at least she has seen our nice message?” His sudden vocalization of thoughts, caught you off guard, your shocked eyes meeting his in a moment.  

“You’re supposed to be deaf!” You exclaimed with a cold and scolding tone. It took Taehyung a few quick moments to realize what his fault actually was, but when he did, he facepalmed himself hard enough for the sound to echo in a radius of 5 meters.

“Dude here I am pretending to be German for your ass to just not play your part, damn what a friend”  

Two men watched the drama unfold before their eyes with amused looks on their faces, silently thanking whatever force made them extend their working hours tonight. They were going to let you go, they knew that from the start, but they also knew that interacting with two drunk adults, this late at night, would be a shame not to experience.

“Just cuff, fine us or whatever, we’re guilty” Finishing your words, you extended your arms, wrists held tight against each other, already facing the cruel future. Taehyung looked at you with the most disappointed look ever, mouth hanging wide open “You’re giving in this easy?!”. “The fuck do you want me to do? Act as if I’m Persian? Might as well make a bigger fool of myself, you’re right”. Glaring at him and not sparing any more attention to the noisy child, you proceeded to await the answer from those before you.

“You’re free to go” The one that was quiet until now (or, the one who had trouble with his pen), spoke up for the first time, smile evident on his previously angry face. These words took you a few moments to process, arms slowly falling to your sides, confusion washing over your facial expressions.

“This was great entertainment, we technically shouldn’t let you go, so you might as well leave before we change our minds” With caution, Taehyung distanced himself away, taking hold of the deformed shopping cart and driving it towards you. He was about to invite you in, when one of the cops spoke up.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“The shopping cart?” Taehyung asked, tone calm and composed. Alcohol was still flowing through his blood, making him act bold, when in reality (or more so, when not drunk), Taehyung would’ve probably stuttered at such a situation. “Probably return it?”

“You guys stole it?!”  

“Oh, would you look at that, it’s time-to-leave o’clock!” He declared, looking at his imaginary wrist watch and helping you climb inside quick. You managed to nearly sober up, so it didn’t take long for you to get in, while Taehyung still sometimes lost his balance. Everything happened way too quick, and he was pushing the two of you away in a matter of seconds, bidding an awkward goodbye to the two men smiling back.

•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•

It was quiet, Taehyung and you were sitting at the same place where you watched the sunset, your trusty vehicle parked behind the bench, remains of a broken glass bottle still scattered around the pavement. Ride here was rather quiet, both thinking over everything that happened tonight, disbelief striking with every thought. Taehyung was occasionally looking at you, silently calling out for your attention, but your troubled thoughts stopped you from giving him what he wanted. Now fully sobered up, sleepy and with a burning headache, you realized what kind of fool you made yourself look like. Damn the two of you could’ve gotten arrested.

Taehyung began poking at your arm, and after a minute of the annoying act, you finally averted your gaze at him, meeting eyes with a happy, but tired looking boy. His gaze lured you in, hooded eyes and silver strands of hair covering majority of his face, the sight alone stealing your breath. Taehyung opened his arms, inviting you in for a tight and warm hug, only to pull you over his lap once you gave in.  

It was around three in the morning, and even though you wished to be in your bed just a few minutes ago, Taehyung’s chest showed to be a much better option. His arms managed to envelop your whole body, one of his hands securely resting on the top of your head that was leaning against his collarbone. This wasn’t anything new, your Friday movie nights would usually end up in these positions, but the hard and loud thumps of his heart that filled your ears were usually never there. Imitating his, your heart began beating faster too, trying to sync in, and you were sure Taehyung could feel it.  

Slowly, his hands were gripping your shoulders, distancing you from him, but not moving you away from his lap. He held you up for a few moments, before letting go.

Taehyung pointed with his right hand to himself a few times, making sure your attention was on his hands. He made an X with both arms over his heart and then pointed at you, awaiting your reaction. You laughed, noticing his usage of sign language, but just a moment later, your face turned serious. Taehyung repeated his action, thinking that you didn’t quite understand, or process, but oh you did.

Because if there was one thing you learned how to say in sign language,  

That was I love you.

Upon not receiving an answer, Taehyung’s facial expressions hardened and changed into a disappointed one, eyes now falling down and focusing onto his fumbling hands. You were quick to react, hand positioned under his chin, lifting his head up and smiling.

“Ich liebe dich auch”

AN: Hello, I am, in fact, not dead! I haven’t uploaded anything since the beginning of October and yes, I am aware that’s a big problem, but school keeps suffocating me woo! I am yet to publish the Jimin scenario and tbh guys I don’t even think I will in the end, I hurried it up and I realized Jimin deserves better. Anyway I had this idea in my head for a while so uh,,, I hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading, see you (hopefully) soon!

[sdavidsson-blog]

The Cold Coming In

That morning my face had been gray in the mirror. Five o'clock shadow showing up forty-eight hours after I shaved. I had left the bathroom and Amy was waiting to get in and we said the no-greeting of people who see each other every day, but are trying not to be in the way. Sam had still been in bed. He went last because he was the youngest. My mother had made breakfast, the same she had for the first few weeks they were here.

***

The posters on my walls, looking distorted from my spot on the floor, were more or less the same as the ones Sam had had. He was always sleeping, now. My bed looked so much different with him in it. Limp hair spilling over the pillow, getting woven around his glasses, which he always slept in, even before being woken up by his house on fire.

Amy and I ate breakfast at the same time, caught the same bus, and went to school through the charred smell of wood-burning stoves around the neighborhoods. Everything else was a slush.

Amy always ate a grapefruit and that was it. She wouldn't sugar it, like I'd seen my grandmother do, she'd just dig in with her spoon, and somehow eat so daintily to not spill a drop, but without doing a single thing to draw attention.

"Want a bite?" she had asked one of the first days, since I had been staring.

It had been tart. Acidic.

***

Amy was staying in the basement, a twin mattress from someone on the floor behind the couch, which made a sort of screen between the rest of the room and her area. The basement had a separate entrance, and sometimes I would go downstairs and she wouldn't be inside, and the door unlocked, and I'd wonder. But I think we were all wondering, even Sam, in his sleep.

It was especially hard to tell if Amy was in because the laundry was almost always running. Every day. Our uniforms spinning and rinsing and drying for the next day, getting threadbare, all going to white, as snow covered the basement windows, the eight inches of light shining around the ceiling being snuffed out, slowly, like a curtain closing.

***

I'm not sure how it happened but there I was in the basement kissing Amy. At first I worried about Sam coming down, but it had become house courtesy to move as clunkily as possible, to announce yourself to everyone else. Someone had suggested we wear bells, but the heavy footfalls and tapping on walls came more organically, and Sam even talked in his sleep, to let me know he was okay. He breathed so softly, and spoke gently, but his mumbling confirmed that he was still with me.

Amy didn't have socks on, which was strange. It was cold in the basement - I wondered if she had just gotten back in or if her hands were always this cold. The cold made them hard and sticky, and they skipped across my skin, making goosebumps that didn't help.

We pulled away and the tip of her nose was rosy, the little bulb at the end of her straight bridge shrunk a little from the cold.

***

I went downstairs too quietly.

On the floor was an older man we all knew, naked, and telling Amy that all she had to do was step on his genitals, that was all. Didn't have to do anything else.

She was standing in front of him, again without socks. Usually she had on bright mismatched short socks, with balls on the back to pull up. Candy striped and all but shiny.

I went over to the man and kicked him and got on my knees and elbowed him on the jaw and I realized I was screaming, and Amy was somewhere, and then the man was gone.

Amy asked if we could go for a walk.

I came back down after changing and she was dressed in all black. Pea coat, jeans, fake-laced boots that zipped up, and a knit hat containing most of her hair, but two strands coming straight down from her temples. The tips of her earlobes peaked out.

***

Trudging through the yard from the basement door we ended up holding hands for balance, then kept clasped when we hit the sidewalk. It was the second time ever that we had touched, after the day we kissed. The neighbor, even younger than Sam, was in his front yard and the light, cool scent of spray paint lifted us slightly, the aerosol buoying our lungs and heads, and then we were past, going toward town.

At some point someone let go, and we had our ungloved hands in our pockets, clenched in a call for blood, not knowing who had let go first.

I could see her eye, her nose, tilted toward me, could see every snowflake melting on her hat, or just getting caught in a loose thread and consuming other flakes as they hit. Between us our breath melded and disappeared somewhere, maybe filling our footprints.

Yards gave way to parking lots and almost everything was closed. It was Sunday and there was no one else in sight. If we had cried it would have frozen on our cheeks. If we had blinked our eyes wouldn't have opened again.

A bell on the laundromat door clinking against the glass and the linoleum squeaked under us as we went in. The almost-neon sign had never been off since the place had first opened. The rows of machines looked so white from outside but chips in the paint showed dull metal and the fading lights toward the back gave off a yellow cast. I sat in one of the orange bucket seats at the front, my back to the window, as Amy fished change from her pocket and coffee splashed into a paper cup. The brown waterfall reflected off the gumball machine at an impossible angle. Amy only liked the coffee for the heat.

She sat next to me, her fingers interlocking around the cup. Outside the no-sound of snow didn't announce itself. The sun behind the gray slid away automatically. The hearts in our chests beat on, whether we liked it or not.

[artzystarlight]

Bright Sky: Book 1: The Brightest Sky: Chapter 2

My newest book series! ^w^ ~Bright Sky is a book series of a team of eight students powered with magic in the magical world of Magicalia in Magicalia Capital Academy. The newest member and the one who started this all is Clarice Mizu, a typical teenage girl with more behind her than she knows of. She has transferred schools, meeting her team of friends. After meeting Sora Wayde, Blossom Cath, Jack Blizzard, Cole MacKenzy, Drake Energie, Mae Aria and Amber Blaze, her life takes a turn for both the best and the worse as they all go on multiple adventures with each other, which will soon turn into serious situations that revolve around each person, especially Clarice.~ I am extremely proud of this book series, and more is to come! ……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Chapter 2: Meet The Teams

“Well I’m guessing the two of you met already…” A girl with dark raven purple hair in a ponytail commented as she fixed her black circular glasses. Clarice had to take note on who everyone was, so she looked at each person’s outfit. The girl had a violet colored mini cardigan with a lavender colored shirt underneath. She also wore forest green cotton and polyester shorts and pale orchid colored flats.

“You were the girl who SLAPPED me when I helped you!” The boy stared down at Clarice, Clarice being a few inches shorter than he was.

“And YOU were the boy who CRASHED into me playing basketball and who didn’t even respond when I said thank you! I know you heard me damnit!” Clarice stared up at him, not giving a damn if she was shorter.

“Hey, are you new?” A girl with messy and ruffled bangs of her short copper hair covering her forehead questioned as her jade eyes stared at Clarice. She wore a red flannel shirt that had one short sleeve and the other part of the other shoulder was sleeveless. Underneath the flannel, she had a neon red undershirt along with lavender jogging shorts and pale blue sneakers with fat white laces.

“Yeah, I am.”

“HA!”

The laugh came from a tall guy with navy blue hair in a ponytail and onyx eyes. He wore a stone gray polo shirt, long snowy white slacks and formal black shoes.

“The first day of school and already you are crashing into a new student. Geez you really are a dumbass, huh Sora?”

The boy with red hair turned toward the taller guy when he heard the sound of his name. As he realized who it was, he became enraged.

“Goddamnit! I forgot I’m going to be in a team with the school heartthrob version of Elsa…except way more lame than Elsa.”

Later on, both their faces got up near each other and they stared at each other, obviously disliking each other’s presence.

“Oh shut up you little shit! You know you have to shut your damn mouth before everyone catches your stupidity!”

“Of course I talk stupid like this, you little red haired bastard. How else would you understand what I say?!”

“BOTH OF YOU DUMBASSES SHUT UP.”

Everyone turned to a boy who was shorter than all of them on the team. He had dark skin, tree bark colored hair and moon colored eyes. He wore a tangerine colored sleeveless shirt with a turtleneck-like collar. He had pale khaki shorts and white shoes that looked like a silver mixed shade of white instead of how the color white normally looks. One unique thing about him was he had fingerless gloves that were the same color of his shirt.

“FRICKIN HELL CAN YOU GUYS NOT ARGUE FOR ONCE WHENEVER YOU MEET?!”

“Cole’s right. Guys can we please not fight? We just got together as a team and we are already arguing…” A quiet and gentle yet crystal clear voice came from the shortest girl of the team. She had tan skin, sunny blonde hair that was wavy yet separated into thick strands and sea foam green eyes. She wore a ruffled magenta long sleeve shirt and had a medium length cream colored skirt with pale pink ballet flats. She wore a silver pendant necklace and a light and pale blue headband with white polka dots.

“Well you guys probably hang out together already. The only one who actually just got together with you guys is me since you all know each other so well. I’m new so…” Clarice explained in her normal voice, but was actually extremely nervous. She was always shy and quiet at first around people, so she wasn’t used to acting her normal self until she got comfortable around them.

“Nah. We don’t hang out, we just know each other. We see each other and will talk from time to time, but I wouldn’t consider us close.” A tall pale skinned boy with messy orange hair and had eyes that were almost pitch black. He wore a thick golden yellow long sleeved sweater that had a turtleneck-like collar as well. He had black wool pants and black sneakers that were easy to slip on anytime.

“So I’m guessing we introduce ourselves,” The girl with the copper messy bangs stood up and had a very ecstatic and energetic tone in her voice. “I’m Amber Blaze!” Amber stuck her tongue out in a silly fashion as her hand glowed an immense heat that later bursted into a flame. “And I love to draw, bake, play guitar and trumpet, make crafts, write stories, draw art and I can control fire! If I can describe myself in a few words, I am energetic, random, silly, hyper, but I am also easily angered and I can easily get stressed… ”

“Ok let’s try to not burn anything, Amber.” The girl with dark Raven purple hair patted the energetic Amber on her head, leaving her with a cute and blank pout. “My name is Mae Aria. I am known to be kind of-Ok very introverted and I prefer being around a small group of people. I love writing stories and drawing as well. I also enjoy reading books, I am in a few anime and cartoon fandoms, and I enjoy making AMVS and edits based off those fandoms. I would describe myself as a sisterly figure to people, mature, smart, quiet, lowkey sassy, strict to the point where I act mean, but yet I can also be kind at times. Oh I almost forgot,” Mae flicked her wrist in a circle until two figures formed in the both of her palms. Soon enough the figures formed two shining purple guns. “I have weapon magic, but I chose to mainly focus on gun summoning.”

“You forgot that you are also very tough and scary, Mae. You are probably the devil herself except more heartless.” Jack added until Mae stared at him and pulled a trigger, a shining purple sphere nearly hitting him and slicing part of his ponytail off as it exploded into a small purple cloud. He looked away as sweat droplets began to trickle down his forehead.

“Scary…” Clarice thought to herself as she stared at Mae as Mae just went back to reading her book as if nothing happened.

“Anyway…My name would be Drake Energie. I like watching action movies and tv shows, playing video games, watching cartoons, and playing football. I think of myself as an extremely extroverted, insane and hilarious class clown. I get in trouble constantly and goof off a lot but it all pays off in the end for me.” Drake grinned mischievously as he used his hands to summon a small chunk of the floor, but dropped it back into its place, showing his abilities to control the earth and ground around him.

“No it doesn’t! You get detention almost every frickin’ day!” Cole commented in complete awe as he wore a completely shocked expression.

“How about you go next then, Mr. I Get In Trouble Cause I Can’t Control My Damn Mouth? You know I get in detention cause I see you there with me as well!”

“Shut up Jackass…Uhm. My name is Cole MacKenzy and I have electricity magic. Such as shown here,” Cole flicked a small electric bolt off his fingertip and struck Drake with it, pushing Drake off his chair as an aftershock went through his body. Clarice began chuckling in shock as everyone stared giving their own certain reactions. “Yeah, anyway. I enjoy video games such as shooting games or games that require violence, watching shows such as live action shows and action movies and obstacle course shows, making origami, breaking stuff, bacon and basically anything that is fun yet gets me into trouble…I guess I’m a badass and rebellious troublemaker who gives zero shits about what the teachers say.” Cole silently said those last few words, knowing Drake would poke at him for saying that.

“I heard that.”

“Stay on the fucking floor Drake.”

“My name is Jack Blizzard. And if you call me Jack Frost I will fucking kill you. I am known to be very neutral or emotionless but I am cool, calm, suave, confident, cocky and chill. But I can actually get easily aggressive and I am lowkey a dick. I can control ice and snow, which explains my calm and cool demeanor. I prefer doing whatever the hell these guys will drag me into.” Jack explained, his eyes closed as he was tossing an ice shard in the palm of his hand.

“He’s scary too…Just like Mae…Hey I wonder if they would make a nice couple?” Clarice couldn’t restrict her shipping fangirl side as she stared at Mae and Jack who looked so chill and annoyed at the same time.

“My name is Blossom Cath but you guys can call me Blossom. I can control Light and Wind Flowing magic. I am known as a very kind, polite and caring student who always gets good grades and despite my height, I am actually like a mother figure to a lot of people at this school! I enjoy making my own crafts and accessories, fashion and activities to do with nature. I also enjoy baking some sweets! Maybe I can make some brownies for you, Clarice.” Blossom smiled at Clarice as a small blush crawled to her cheeks of pure shyness.

“I know how these girls are like. She is a perfect example of a cinnamon roll…” Clarice flashed a smile back as a voice interrupted.

“Ok I’m going to introduce myself…and hopefully you won’t slap me midway my description,” Sora made a certain expression gesture towards Clarice as she stared back in an annoyed pout. “My name is Sora Wayde and I can describe myself as a balanced person when it comes to personalities. I am seen to be calm, mature, cocky and have a normal demeanor like Jack Frost over here, but I am mainly extroverted, talkative, friendly, outgoing, fiesty, aggressive and passionate when it comes to emotions.”

“Hey, isn’t Sora Japanese for ‘Sky’?” Clarice’s eyes gleamed with interest as a smile slowly grew on her cheeks.

“Yeah it is…I was surprised you knew that since nobody knew what my name meant except me. My name relates to my powers, which is the ability to control the weather OF the sky, so I’m not copying Blossom’s powers.”

“Well then…I have a new nickname for you from now on! I’m calling you Sky from time to time!”

“Oh please don’t,” Sora stared at Clarice in the same annoyed pout she wore earlier as Clarice responded with a confident and playful smirk with her tongue shyly sticking out. “You’re turn now.”

Clarice flashed a confident and comfortable smile after she got to know everyone and easily described herself with ease.

“My name is Clarice Mizu and I am a new student, obviously! I used to control water before I transferred and they took my power orb away from my body system. I am known to be very shy and quiet when you first meet me, but once I get comfortable around you I am actually very friendly, silly, loyal, bubbly, energetic, fiesty, sarcastic, boyish, outgoing, and easygoing! I am also a fangirl, shipper, and member of multiple fandoms. However, I consider myself an ambivert since I can hang out with friends and hang out with myself. I like playing video games, reading manga and comic books, watching cartoons and tv shows and anime, writing stories and drawing art, listening and singing to music, and playing sports especially basketball. However, I didn’t enjoy basketball when SOMEONE crashed into me.” Clarice explained, lowkey throwing shade at one of her new teammates.

“Still holding onto that, huh.”

“Still holding onto me slapping you, huh?”

Sora pouted again and Clarice stuck her tongue out again, except this time she had a huge, positive and confident smile. She never quickly gotten comfortable around a group of people before…or quickly felt welcome.

“Okay Clarice, here. Time to get your powers.” Mae handed Clarice a box full of little orbs that had element and certain symbols that represented what powers they had. Clarice was ready to go grab the blue one with a water symbol and swallow it until she felt a hand knock it out of her reach. It was Sora’s.

“What the hell was that for Sky?!” Clarice asked annoyed until Sora pushed her cheek to his left direction.

“Look.”

A seemed to be new student who just popped a magic orb into his mouth began choking. Sounds of hacking and coughs filled the room as the body collapsed, the orb rolling out of his mouth. Soon enough, the orb seemed to absorb a mist coming from the person’s mouth and it gave off a mist that seemed to spread. A bunch of people caught in the mist collapsed as well. Whatever that orb was giving off, it was contagious and spreading fast.

“Jack-ass!” Mae yelled, signaling Jack to use his powers as Jack stared at her in anger.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.”

Jack made a thin ice shield surrounding his team as Clarice witnessed everyone falling to the ground surrounding their shield.

“Wha-What’s going on?” Blossom asked scared until Clarice instantly realized the events happening in its domino effect.

Those magic orbs got poisoned, and it’s poisoning everyone else as well.