#and the impulse to sneak this song in somewhere. it would be so easy. no one would realize it but me.

[anothersylvia]

BABY DON'T PRETEND LIKE YOU DON'T WANT THIS : The Final Chapter

Info: Jack Harlow x Reader x fictional UK rapper / side piece inspired/NSFW/angst

(Author Note : Back on Tumblr with an updated final chapter to a series I started a while ago. I understand some may have long forgotten where the story was left off or have yet to read the story as a whole but no worries I'll have previous chapters linked bellow to get you up to speed with how we got here. Do hope you enjoy and apologies for the delay 💕)

PART 1:

Seated on the edge of the bed with your body wrapped up in a towel you had just gotten out the shower and finished putting on lotion when Jack appeared and snatched the panties you were about to wear from your hands.

"It's too early for this " You giggled and struggled against Jack's taller build to get your underwear back from him.

"Too early for what ?" Jack grinned devilishly enjoying his view from above you as he dangled the lacy material above your head at a height he knew you couldn't reach. You tried to one up him by climbing onto the bed but in one swift motion Jack had your body draped over his shoulder caveman style.

"I literally hate you"

Jack responded by laughing and giving your ass a smack. He placed you flat on your back onto the bed unwrapping your towel, his eyes combing over your smooth skin being hit by the morning sun rays. Your nipples hardened under his gaze prompting Jack to lean over and kiss each of them before hovering over your face. Jack's Lids were heavy with lust but his eyes were drowning in adoration and affection for you. You responded by lowering Jack's neck so his lips could meet yours. You kissed tenderly caressing the sides of Jack's beard and enjoying the weight of his body on top of you. His curls weren't all the way dry and still damp and smelling fresh of shampoo. Your morning together was the closest thing to paradise.

Later that day tucked away in Jack's place in Atlanta you were laid up beside him watching a movie in perfect bliss. Your head rested on his lap as his fingers caressed your exposed shoulder. As the movie progressed You would look up to sneak in glances of Jack's angelic face that made your heart swell with love. This kind of affection and intimacy was new territory between you and Jack. Back when your only role in his life was just being his side chick you rarely ever found yourself in Jack's personal space or spent time with each other for anything that didn't involve sex. As new as this was it wasn't hard to fall into this rhythm. The past two weeks since your impulsive and reckless night together in the club parking lot were like living a Mariah Carey love song. Waking up next to each other , showers together, ordering in and binging shows Jack wasn't always able to watch with his busy schedule. He still had engagements while in Atlanta but always rushed back to you even trusting you with the key to his place. He could get used to this , having you by his side , you could too but you knew eventually you'd both have to get your heads from out the clouds and confront the situation at hand.

Eventually being really soon. You were fixing to have the dreaded conversation with Jack. The where do we go from here? What happens moving forward ...

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. Everytime you saw that flash of dimple in Jack's smile when something in the movie made him laugh , just hearing him breathe and taking in his warmth. It wasn't going to be an easy conversation but it was time to have it. You sat up from your position as soon as the movie ended.

"Going somewhere" Jack teased giving your waist a squeeze.

"Jack …" the rest of your sentence trailed of as your nerves picked up and Jack's expression grew concerned.

"Jason is going to be back in the US this weekend" You blurted it out before you could stop yourself. Instantly regretting it once you saw the look on Jack's face.

"Say something please" you pleaded growing uncomfortable with the silence.

"Guess this means our time is up then?" Jack grew cold , the blue of his eyes now piercingly cold instead of mesmerizing and warm.

"Jack you had to have known this moment was coming"

"What I should have known is that you could be this vindictive and I shouldn't have opened my heart up to you " Jack stood from his seating position and paced the room , his body language becoming more and more tense and putting you on edge.

"Like is this what you wanted ? To get back at me?" A frustrated Jack ran his fingers through his curls

"Get back at you ?" You sprung up in defence. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

"I stayed out of your way Y/n , I respected your relationship , I wanted you to be happy but you kissed me , We did all this reckless shit , I told you how I feel " Jack was not an impulsive person by nature. He moved very cautiously being in the position he was but when it came to you all that went out the window. His relationship with you went against his very nature to practice restraint and think logically. He would always end up being swept up in the moment.

"And I told you how I feel and I meant it but non of this was some plot to get back at you or play you what do you take me for Jack ? I'm just trying to do the right thing I'm not like you where I can betray the next person without a thought "

"Oh Bullshit Y/n where was all this talk when you were laying in my bed and taking this dick ? And don't you dare ride in here on your moral high horse about infidelity like you were not complicit and willing to fuck somebody's boyfriend " Jack spat reminding you of your part in the affair you had when he had a girlfriend.

"Okay I can see this isn't going anywhere" You began to to frantically search for your scattered items so you could leave. Your vision was beginning to blur with incoming tears. You knew this wouldn't be an easy conversation but the turn it was taking was gut wrenching. You and Jack throwing the past in each other's faces completely erasing the magic of your time together. Just moments ago you were lost in his touch and engulfed in his scent sharing comfortable silence. The bubble was now burst and you were both coming down from a high to a reality that was not so pretty.

"Just know that when shit hits the fan with him , you don't get to come running back to me" Jack's eyes mirrored the glassy effect of your own also fighting back his own tears. His pride and ego taking a hit as he watched you prepare to walk away from him.

"It won't and you better not say a thing to Jason , I swear to god I won't forgive you" You shoved past Jack to get to your car keys.

"Are you also not going to forgive Jason for his stepping out on you or he gets a pass since you like to do a little stepping out of your own?"

The dots connected upon hearing Jack's words. The day he and Jason shot a music video and Jason came back home drunk and smelling suspicious he indeed was with someone else. You were not sure what stung more between the truth about Jason or the fact that Jack was willing to keep it from you till now when he knew it would hurt you.

You sent your hand flying through Jack's face leaving behind a mean sting. The sound of the clap pierced into the air echoing off the walls. "I wish I never met you Jack Harlow"

Jack raised a hand to his reddened cheek processing that that might have been the last time he would ever feel your touch.Your last words echoing in his head louder than that slap.

You meant it too. You wished you had left your first interaction with Jack at what it was , just a passing moment you'd look back on like "Oh I met Jack Harlow that one time and he was charming". Would have saved you a world of trouble, trouble that was only just beginning.

You hadn't even thought of what you'd say when Jason would arrive back in the country and the apartment you shared.

You had woken up next to Jack on cloud nine only to leave with the weight of the world on your shoulders. From your encounter out in the UK to your fight just moments ago the montage of moments with Jack leading up to now left you feeling light headed and you pulled up at the nearest stop. You wiped your tears as you tried to steady your breathing and recollect yourself.

"Leaving this message to let you know that when you get back I won't be in the apartment. To not beat around the bush I know you fucked someone else but consider us even cause I did too. So I don't need us to go back and forth about this it's for the best that we just move on. Bye Jason" Once your message was sent you took one last deep breathe before starting your car and driving off. You needed a clean slate , both Jack and Jason would have to remain a thing of the past if you were going to heal and it's exactly what you did. Left and didn't look back

Jack coped the only way he knew how , By keeping busy. Never a moment of rest with him , he knew to sit still would mean to drown in thoughts of you. You left so abruptly after the fight leaving behind your earrings and that same undergarment Jack playfully took from you that morning. He'd dream that you were still by his side and that he was making you laugh and dream about asking you to be his girlfriend just to wake up to the cold reality that you were gone. His busy schedule didn't stop him from regularly checking your social media which as of late had no sign of life from you. Jason had still been in touch about the release of their coming collaboration and music video so he could assume Jason didn't know about the two of you but it was evident you had left Jason because it was all over the blogs.

"Why don't you just call her Bro?" Urban advised catching Jack scrolling down on your Instagram feed yet again. He was growing concerned, the last time you posted anything was from the night you were all at the club in Atlanta. Which was just over 2 months back

"Nothing good will come of that" Jack dismissed pocketing his phone.

"So you're just going to keep stalking her page like something good will come of that ?". "It's clear you want to know how she's doing so just call her"

Jack had to admit he was on the verge of calling but deep down he feared your rejection. The way in which you told him you regretted ever meeting him did more harm than you realised. "If she's at Jason's album release party will you talk to her ?"

Jack figured he'd just accept Jason's invite to his album release party , show face a little then leave. Not only was he not in a festive mood but he just didn't see where his relationship with Jason would go in the long term.

"Highly doubt she will be there"

That was only partially true. You had recently flown in ready to pick back up on your everyday life in Atlanta. You did as you told Jason and had moved out from your shared apartment so you'd be spending your first night back in a hotel. Unfortunately for you that hotel happened to be where Jason was hosting his album release party on the rooftop. Completely unaware of this you were making your way into the hotel lobby when Jack and his entourage arrived just moments after you. You weren't alerted of their presence until you heard Jack's undeniable voice and laugh. There was a surprising calmness that took over you as you looked over your shoulder to confirm you were hearing who you thought you were hearing. Surrounded by the same circle he always surrounded himself with he stood out to you. The warmly lit lobby giving Jack this heavenly halo like effect as he smiled and chatted his way in. Dressed for an occasion he was wearing your favourite shades of creme and white and his jewelry glistened from the distance. It didn't take long before he recognised and spotted you. You couldn't help but find it funny that he blinked a few times like he wanted to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Urban caught on and nudged Jack.

"Just talk to her " Urban repeated his statement from earlier giving Jack the courage to approach you.

Meanwhile as Jason and his entourage were making their way to the venue the worst scenario had taken place. Footage from the night you and Jack hooked up in the parking lot leaked and was spreading across the net and socials like wild fire. Usually Jason would not keep up with that kind of thing but someone on his camp brought it to his attention for one very specific reason .. You "Is this a fucking joke !" Jason who was already intoxicated and high lashed out. They were minutes away from arriving and Jason remained silent , heavily breathing and clenching his jaws and fists.

You and Jack completely unaware of what was taking place on the internet were still standing across from each other in the hotel lobby.

"I was worried about you Y/n" Jack resisted the urge to touch you , longingly eyeing your smaller frame.

"I'm fine Jack and I'll continue to be as long as whatever we were , what ever this is stays in the past"

"I can respect that but I want you to know I never meant to hurt you"

"I'm sure you didn't and I'm not innocent in any of this I also made choices"

Jason already fuming marched in with his crew spotting the two of you in your conversation. Under the influence and in rage nobody noticed Jason reaching for a gun had strapped on him in his bomber jacket.

"There is something I have to tell you though" You readied yourself to explain that now wasn't the time to say it but before you could a shot was fired. The lobby went into commotion. Jason was tackled by hotel security while everyone ran for cover. Jack's bodyguard rushed to Jack's side trying to pull him to safety but Jack shoved him off.

"She's been hit!!!" Jack kneeled on both knees beside you placing your upper body on his lap , holding onto you for dear life. As Jason was being carried out he looked over to see he had missed Jack and hit you instead. His skin went pale and he went numb realising what he had done.

"Get the fucking car !!" He screamed to his security

"Ja- Jack " You looked up at him

"Shhh shhh look at me , don't be scared , you're gonna pull through , you're strong " You could hear that Jack was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you as blood gushed out staining his white clothes and dripping onto the marble floor. There wasn't even time to process what just happened and why but you knew whatever the outcome of the next few minutes Jack had to know …

With the strength you could muster you took his hand and placed it on your belly.

It's didn't take much for Jack to connect the dots to what you were trying to tell him.

"It's yours"

Urban and Jack's team rushed to his side to alert him they had the car out front . Jack tearfully scooped your frail and injured body into his arms bridal style. In the car you remained in Jack's arms with both yours and his hand planted firmly on your belly. Your head rested on his chest as he sniffled back tears and kissed your forehead. There was silence as you took your last breaths in Jack's arms.

Later In the early hours of the AMs a defeated and grief stricken Jack stumbled back into his cold and dark apartment and collapsed onto his sofa in blood drenched clothes and swollen lids. His phone kept ringing sending him into a rage. Jack sent the phone crashing into the TV screen and proceeded to flip over the coffee table in from of him and trash his apartment. After Punching into a mirror he dropped to his knees and broke down.

"It should have been me"

THE END :(

[juno-of-the-sky]

mystical / koutarou bokuto

every night, you come to the forest to practice violin. tonight, bokuto happens to be there.

tags: violinist reader, gender-neutral reader

word count: 1,706k

a/n: hope you like this one! this was my first time writing bokuto that wasn’t extremely self indulgent (although it kind of was with the violin) so he might be a little out of character sorry!! i am actually a violinist myself so like,, if you ever wanna talk about violin my ask box is always open teehee

Bokuto had a habit of finding himself in forests in the early hours of the morning.

Mostly, he liked the atmosphere — he had told this to Akaashi once, but he couldn’t understand his response because he started rambling quietly about nature being one of his biggest inspirations, the importance of being somewhere with a good atmosphere, more art student-esque lingo.

Akaashi had actually pointed out this particular forest to him once — a dismissive, “Pretty trees,” and then the continuation of walking. Something about that forest had caught Bokuto’s attention, so, at a time he was definitely supposed to be asleep, he climbed out of his bedroom window armed with a flashlight and planned to find a nice tree.

He found something much, much more beautiful.

At first, the violin music coming from a few feet away startled him. He was considering running off like this was a horror movie, but something drew him to it — so he navigated through the brush until he finally came across you.

You were dressed in a black hoodie, the hood pulled over your face so you weren’t visible, but that didn’t matter to Bokuto — he knew that you had to be gorgeous. How else would you make this beautiful music flowing into the air from the violin you held against your jaw? You were turned toward a stream, playing a concerto from memory — you had been practicing it for so long that your fingers hit the proper fingerings just as easy as breathing or eating. He was utterly entranced and engaged in your performance, despite the fact you didn’t even notice he was there. It wasn’t until you stopped abruptly and he impulsively started clapping that you whipped around and screamed, your bow falling to your side.

“Oh — I’m sorry!” Bokuto said immediately, starting to feel guilty about scaring you. “I didn’t mean to shock you!” Oh my God.

You recognized his face, and somehow that was the most horrible feeling in the world. You’d seen this boy before, at school; you’d never been more thankful to be wearing a mask that probably made you unidentifiable.

“I—It’s fine,” You managed to say, still recovering from your stomach falling to your feet. “H—How long have you been here?” He tapped his foot against the grass as he looked up at the trees, pondering this. “Um… good question! Maybe three minutes?” “Oh.” So he hadn’t been watching your whole performance. That was good — if he’d watched the entire thing, you’d think you would just keel over and die right there on the grass. This was humiliating, having this cute boy you knew from school discover you practicing violin in the forest at 2 AM like some kind of horror movie antagonist. Even as you stood there, violin at your sides, you felt your face start to burn up.

“You’re so good at violin!” Bokuto gushed, not helping your rapidly rising temperature. “I felt like you were putting some sort of spell on me; it was incredible!” “Aw, you’re too sweet,” and it was true because you weren’t that good at violin. You’d only started a year ago, and despite your teacher telling you that you were a natural, you never believed her. “I just have a lot of motivation to do this,” You’d respond quietly most of the time to compliments. In truth, you didn’t like to take compliments. It made you feel vain — but he looked like the type to cry if you didn’t take his flattery, so you just smiled underneath the mask.

You glanced down at your wrist — it was getting late. Even though it was Friday, you still needed to sleep.

“I should go,” You murmured. “Um… thanks for sticking around.”

You elbowed past him. As you went, he called out, “I’m Bokuto!” “It’s good to meet you, Bokuto.” And you couldn’t see it, but he beamed. It’s a shame he was so caught up in his own wonder that he forgot to ask you your name.

The next night, Saturday, Bokuto waited for what seemed like forever until you finally came through the brush, your violin case in your right hand and phone on its flashlight in your left. Usually, you came to practice in the dark, but something tonight told you to bring a light.

His excitable face being the first thing you saw when you laid the bright light on the grove made you scream and stumble backward.

“I’m sorry!” He was above you in a second, holding out his hand to help you up. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s fine,” You choked out, getting deja vu from this whole situation. “Um… did you come to...?” “I came to watch you again. I couldn’t get that out of my head all day!”

Your face heated up again and stayed that way as you tuned your instrument and played a quick chord. The sound, bright and pure, echoed throughout the grove. Perfect.

As you began to string away mindlessly, Bokuto asked, “How long have you been doing this?” “Violin for about a year,” You responded. “Practicing here… also about a year.” “It’s almost mystical here! You’re like some kind of forest spirit.”

You couldn’t help a smile — you enchanted him so much, and you didn’t know why, but it was endearing. You didn’t think of yourself as anyone extraordinary; he was probably halfway convinced you were some river deity.

You finished the song, your mind still somewhere else, and put your violin down as Bokuto clapped excitedly, a one-man audience. “That was amazing!” “Haha… thanks.” And for the first time, you didn’t feel so reluctant to take his compliments.

Bokuto kept coming; night after night, you’d go to the grove with your violin to find the gray-haired boy sitting on the ground waiting patiently. You’d make small talk while you tuned and then play something— sometimes it was new, sometimes it was something he’d already heard. But he never got tired of hearing that bow drag across the strings.

On the third night of the third month of doing this, as you tuned your violin strings, Bokuto asked a different question. Usually, he just asked you about the activities of the day, or you let him talk about something that happened at volleyball or something Akaashi did— but tonight, he seemed more interested.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Bokuto asked suddenly. You paused— you had never told him your name, had you?

After a bit of silence, you reluctantly responded, “(Y/N).” “I like your name! It suits you.” Bokuto’s compliment made your cheeks heat up— with delight or embarrassment, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you liked Bokuto. You liked his presence; you liked talking to him, no matter how childish he could be somehow; most of all, you liked when he watched you play the violin with his glittering eyes. You liked him a lot.

“Thanks,” You murmured. “I like your name, too.” “Thanks!”

The next night, Bokuto asked you what you looked like.

“I…” was your flushed, stuttery response. He wanted to know what you looked like? But wouldn’t he recognize you from school? Somehow, that was your worst nightmare. “Um, I look okay, I guess.”

“How long is your hair?” Tripping over your words, you managed to whisper your hair length and color to him. He nodded like it was a profound secret, saying, “Mhm!”

You were about to say something new when he said, “Can I see?” “What?!” “I wanna see your face,” He said with an innocent beam. “I’m sure you’re perfect!” “Oh, trust me, you don’t want to—” “But I do!” His voice was pouty now, and it made your heart thump against your chest so hard you almost worried he would be able to hear it. Should you do it?

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about here,” You demanded, pointing a finger at him. “If you do, I’ll never come back.” Bokuto held out his pinky at you, a gesture you realized much too late that he was making a pinky promise. How long had it been since you’d made a pinky promise? Regardless, you hooked your pinky on his and squeezed. It was set in stone, at least if you still followed the rules of an elementary school.

Shyly, you hooked your left hand on the top of your mask and your right on your hood and pulled them down simultaneously.

Bokuto gasped— a gesture which you just took as a compliment, but then he flapped his hands and said, “I recognize you!” Your heart sank straight down to your shoes. “R—Really?” “I knew I knew someone named (Y/N)! I’ve seen you watching practice sometimes!” It was true that, over the past few weeks, you’d sneak to his volleyball practice once or twice a week and watch the practice going on with your homework binder open next to you. It was funny how Bokuto thought you were mesmerizing when he could just… play like that. You could never take your eyes off his hands— each day, you ended with homework hardly touched and heart swelling times a million. You liked watching him.

“I guess I kinda…” You admitted shyly, tugging on a strand of your hair that was exactly how you described it to him. “Came to watch you practice…”

“I’m honored,” Bokuto said with starry eyes, and you felt like he actually meant it. “Honored that such a lovely person would take the time to watch me!” “To you just the same,” You giggled. “Honestly, you don’t know how much I’ve looked forward to playing violin for you.”

He sat down on the grass, making you feel the need to follow. The next thing you knew, your hands were linked together. Your hand fit against his perfectly, almost like your palms were molded to fit flawlessly together. Nobody had ever held your hand like this… you weren’t about to complain.

“Maybe we can skip out on violin for tonight,” You whispered, a suggestion you never thought you would say. “This is… kind of nice.” Bokuto’s response was immediate— to pull you against his chest. It made your eyes widen, but… you liked it. 

He didn’t say anything, but you figured that he was perfectly content to follow your suggestion and hold you in this strangely mystical forest until the moon sank low under the trees and the dawn was there again.

have something you’d like to see me write? send me a request!

[drowningbydegrees]

👀

My WIP folder is approximately all the tropes. I was going to share sick!fic, but the last thing I shared was fairly whumpy, so have this very sappy thing instead. This fic is actually close to done, so I imagine it’ll be posted in its entirety soon.  “I’m sorry,” Jaskier’s voice cracks when he finally chooses to say something, the sound a little bewildering. “You were never supposed to hear it.” Jaskier has never hidden his dalliances. Geralt cannot fathom why Jaskier would hide something like a love song, unless… Blanching somewhat, Geralt assumes this means Jaskier has figured him out despite his best efforts and trying to kindly protect his feelings.  “Oh.” Of course. Geralt sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. It’s always been coming, he supposes, an inevitability from someone so constantly bursting with affection for others. Though it feels like there are rocks on his throat and he wants to hide, Geralt forces himself to nod just once. “‘S fine.”  “Can we please just forget it? I swear it won’t be a problem. I’m not asking anything of you except to let me be your friend.” Jaskier is rambling and nothing quite tracks with anything that came before. It is a fleeting, warm thing to let the stray thought sneak in that it does make sense, actually, if the song was for him. But cannot be, no matter how much Geralt wishes it. Perhaps because Geralt wishes it. Somewhere along the way, Jaskier has put a little bit of space between them and he balls his hands up so tightly in his lap that Geralt swears his nails must be cutting into his palms. “I have this under control.”  “What?” Every last thought in Geralt’s head screeches to a halt. Geralt may not read people with the ease that Jaskier does, but he knows his best friend. That’s not the posture of someone trying to let him down easy. Geralt is left with the distinct impression that Jaskier is only staying put because the wall is on one side of him and the witcher is on the other. “Look, like I said, we can forget about it, but don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” “I’m not. I-.” Geralt starts to reply, but decides he’s not effectively getting the point across when Jaskier’s expression scrunches in an awful combination of anxiety and confusion. If he can’t say the right thing, there are other ways to make himself understood. Impulsively, Geralt reaches for Jaskier’s hands, carefully urging him to uncurl his fingers. There’s no real resistance. Just the warmth of Jaskier’s hands in his. “You don’t have to. Have it under control, I mean.” “Geralt?” There’s an epic written in that single word, whispered in the space between them. Geralt feels the strangest compulsion to be as hushed as Jaskier, and in the face of the bard’s wide eyed scrutiny, it’s difficult not to turn away. He presses on anyway, the words coming out in a rush. “You could have me.”   Send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

[livsoulsecrets]

Incantava AU - Chapter 2: Though she be but little, she is fierce!

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

Summary: Eleonora is in London for some days for her brother’s photograph exposition. In her last night in the city, she is convinced by her friends to go out by herself and have some fun. Unexpectedly, she meets other Italian there, a charming boy named Edoardo. Not knowing much else about him, she takes her friends’ advice and has a one night stand with him, not expecting to see the boy after that. Little did she know they were bound to meet each other again.

August 22nd

📲 Edoardo’s Instagram Post

📲 Eleonora’s Instagram Story

20:47

Ele took a deep breath as soon as she stepped into the street after leaving the hotel.

Her phone was buzzing, probably with the girl’s texts from the group chat. She decided not to take it out her pocket, instead focusing in what was around her while she walked to the pub Filo said she had to visit. Knowing better than taking her brother’s word for it, Ele also sneaked the book she was currently reading in her bag, just in case the place turned out to be boring.

When she got to the bar some minutes later, Ele sat down at the table around the corner and ordered some tea and took A Midsummer Night's Dream out of her bag, being fully aware she was being away too much of a cliche tourist drinking tea and reading Shakespeare. She regretted nothing, though. Filo was, like usual, wrong and the place proved itself to be quite boring, being mostly empty except for Ele and a couple standing in the bar’s balcony, so reading is probably her best option. Her tea is served after a while and she continues to read the book, thinking she would probably be better off leaving soon, since nothing interesting is happening there anyway.

That is when she caught eye of a boy that was sitting by the bar. He had dark curls falling in his eyes and, even from that distance, Ele couldn’t help but lose her breath with how soft his brown eyes were. He was staring already when she looked up and, unlikely what she would have expected, he didn’t break eye contact.

He was so gorgeous that Ele felt her face burning with his eyes on her.

The girls’ words keep coming back to her mind, telling her to get out there, live a little, have fun. It wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot… Maybe he is not even trying to flirt with her and all of this is a product of her bored mind.

Either way, Eleonora decided that, tonight, she was going to be brave.

Until that moment, Ele was trying to not stare too much, keeping a bit of her focus on the book at hand. So when she put the book down, the boy crooked an eyebrow in her direction, intrigued. Despite her many doubts about her impulsive decision, she didn’t look away and smiled.

The boy gets up from where he is sitting and suddenly the almost empty place seems too small for the two of them. For a second, it almost looks like he may come her way, but a man suddenly appeared next to him. The other guy seemed to be concerned for something when he got there, but, the more they talked, the more the man relaxed. The boy that was staring at her before put his hand in his friend’s shoulder and talked softly, calming him down.

Ele was tempted to keep staring at him, but she didn’t want to look like a crazy stalker, so she resumed reading her book, trying to focus again.

— Uh… Well, hi, I’m Edoardo. — Ele shut the book away too fast when she heard the voice that was coming from the little stage in the corner of the bar.

Somehow, she just knew who that voice belonged to.

She wasn’t surprised when her eyes were met with the scene of the boy with dark curls, Edoardo, holding a guitar in his hands and staring at the few people who were in the bar.

— Alright… The singer Leo hired for today is going to be a bit late, so, I will just fill up some of your time until he gets here. — Edoardo explained, a bit of shyness leaking through his words. He recovered quickly though, starting to play the first chords of a melody Ele felt like she knew from somewhere. — When you were here before… Couldn’t look you in the eye, you’re just like an angel, your skin makes me cry.

Eleonora always prided herself in being able to stay focus on what she wanted no matter what.

And yet, here she was.

She can’t take her eyes off of him. Maybe it’s the way he closes his eyes when he sings or how soft his voice sounds in English, with the hint of an accent she recognizes. Maybe it’s the moments where he opens his eyes just for a bit and they seem to find their way back to hers.

Whatever the reason is, Ele can’t tell herself to go back to her book and stop paying attention to Edoardo.

Perhaps it’s because she simply doesn’t want to.

— But I'm a creep... I'm a weirdo, What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here. I don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control, I wanna a perfect body... I wanna a perfect soul.

Either way, the songs seems to end just as abruptly as it began and Ele is brought back to reality with a bit of a shock.

Edo plays another two songs until the hired singer shows up in a rush, but Eleonora has to admit she didn’t really listen to anything after the first song, too focused in analyzing the boy while he wasn’t able to take notice of it.

So when Edoardo leaves the stage to go get some water, Eleonora thinks he won’t pay much attention to her again.

She is quickly proved wrong when he walks right in her her direction.

Surprised and speechless, Ele waits.

He gets closer, the water bottle on his hand, the playful smile he had all the time while singing not going anywhere.

— A Midsummer Night’s Dream? — Edoardo asks, pointing at her book, forgotten at the table.

Perhaps confirming his brown eyes were just as soft standing this close as they were all the way across the room does something to Eleonora’s insides, but she will not be the one to admit it either way.

— Yes… It seemed like the right place to read it again, as cliche as it sounds. — Ele answers, still unsure of what she is doing. He turns his eyes to the empty seat across from her and it is like he is asking if he can sit.

Ele has never been very good at flirting, but she likes the little game they have going on, so she bends her neck, silently telling him to give her a good reason to let him stay.

— “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” — Ele doesn’t know what she was expecting as an answer to her silent question, but that was not it. — That is my favorite quote of this book. Guess I’m a bit of a cliche too. — Ele smiles without even taking notice of it and indicates the chair in front of her with her head. The boy sits down, a playful smile on his face, and she tries not to freak out too much over talking to a complete stranger.

Well, that is why she carries a pepper spray around: preparing for the risks.

After living such a carefully calculated couple of years, she can’t help but feel like she deserves one night of carefree decisions.

— I’m Edoardo. — He says, extending his hand across the table. — But I guess you know that already.

— Indeed. I’m Eleonora. — She answers, taking his hand and shaking it. — You are not from here, are you?

— No, but I have lived here for a year now. The accent is not going anywhere though. I’m from Italy. — He explains and Ele wonders if destiny is playing with her somehow.

— Oh, really? I’m from Italy too!

— We are everywhere, aren’t we?

— We really are! It is insane. — She stops for a second, considering what to do next. — Do you always quote Shakespeare to random girls? — Ele asks, wondering what made he pay such a close attention to her.

— Oh, you caught me, that is all I ever do of my nights. — And it is a dumb answer, of course, but that doesn’t stop Ele from laughing.

— Why did you move here?

— You make a lot of questions, you know?

— And you are not very good at answering them. — Eleonora says back easily and Edoardo nods, agreeing with her, the same playful smile resting in his face, making it harder for Eleonora to look him in the eyes without feeling her face getting hot.

— Fair enough. — He complies. — Let’s switch it, then, why did you come here?

— My brother had a photography exposition in a gallery over here, it ended today.

— You are leaving soon, I assume?

— I’m going back home tomorrow.

— I’m going back in a week. For good, I mean. As much as I love London, it isn’t home. — Edoardo reveals.

— I understand, London is awesome, but I don’t think I could give up on Rome for any other city. — Ele agrees.

— Oh… So you going back to Rome, too? That is where I’m moving back to.

Ele almost looks around the place to see if this isn’t a prank Filo is playing on her because it sounds insane that she ended up flirting with the one italian boy in a bar located in the middle of London.

— Guess we will have to make the most of the time we do have left here. — Edo says and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ele the way he bites his lip after suggesting it. — What do you want to do in your last night?

— I barely know you. — Ele says back, trying to stop herself from laughing and sound as serious as possible. — What if you are a serial killer trying to abduct me?

— Abduct? What am I, an ET? — This boy definitely has no regard for Ele’s heart. If he keeps smiling like that, she may do something dumb like giving in to his suggestion. — But, okay, okay, that is a honest doubt. — He seems to recover himself a bit from Ele’s answer to look her in the eyes again. — Alright, then! We can let destiny decide it for us.

— Destiny will decide if you are a serial killer or an ET? — Ele grins when he rolls his eyes at her, as if they are old friends with an inside joke.

— Of course not… Destiny will decide what we should do. — He says, as excited as a little child about to get a candy with his new idea. Ele is not sure why she is so easy to trust him, but she nods, indicating she may agree with him.

— Okay… And how do we do it?

— Reading, of course. — He says, as if it is obvious. Ele feels halfway between annoyed and flustered with the way he looks at her after saying such thing.

— Are you going to elaborate on that or…

— It is simple: you open the book in the page you were reading and we do whatever it is telling us to do.

— Well… Guess we’re lucky I wasn’t reading Romeo and Juliet or we would have some serious issues. — Ele whispers just loud enough so he can hear it and it’s adorable how he grins back to her. — Can’t believe I’m doing this, but, here we go: the last sentence I read was “My soul is in the sky”.

Edo stayed silent for some seconds until a smile tugged at his lips. It was a good look on him. But, if she was going to be honest, everything seemed to be a good look on that boy.

— That means we should… Look at the sky? — Eleonora wonders, a little too involved with Edo’s suggestion to her own liking.

— Yes! I mean, if you are sure I’m not a serial killer…

— Or an ET.

— Of course, how could I forget the other hypothesis? If you are convinced I’m not a serial killer nor an ET, then, I may know the perfect place to do that.

She tried to resist, God knows she did.

— Okay, guess I’ll have to trust your word.

— Promise you won’t regret it. — Ele hoped he was right.

— Considering I met you some minutes ago, I might. You are a stranger, after all.

— You keep insisting on that, but it is not true! You know my name and watched me singing. I know which book you are reading and where you are from. I have gone to high school with people I knew less about! — Ele laughs, unsure if there is any logic to his thought process.

— If you say so, Edoardo… — Ele trails off.

— You can call me Edo. — It is all he answers, his eyes never leaving hers.

— Not sure if we are this close yet. — Ele mocks and he only shakes his head in disapproval as response while laughing.

Still, she accepts his crazy idea.

And, what is even more surprising, when Edo heads to the restaurant’s exit, she follows.

Next Chapter

[silverskye13]

The first time Gaster heard the song, it was because Grillby was humming it quietly. It was the first thing he heard on that cold, drizzly morning, the lilting tune of it drawing him slowly into wakefulness with gentle yet persistent tugs at his awareness. At first, he thought it was the remnants of some dream clinging to the edge of his waking mind, attempting to lull him back into the blissful unawareness of sleep. But the more he focused on it, the more he heard, the more he realized he was awake. He blinked in Grillby’s direction as the bodyguard went about sharpening a knife at the front of the abandoned garage they’d tucked themselves into that night. The background patter of the gentle rainfall and the rhythmic sound of metal scraping against metal wove itself into the haunting little tune, a fitting accompaniment for a person of such stoic character.

“What is that?” Gaster asked, his voice hoarse with sleep and naked and dissonant when compared to the soft tune Grillby had been singing. Grillby stopped his humming abruptly, and the motion of his knife, and the patter of the rain made itself loud in the silence between them.

“I heard it in a music box once,” Grillby elaborated slowly, as if it took him a moment to recall exactly where the song had come from, “A rusted old piece of human trash someone kicked away somewhere. Thought it was pretty.”

He paused and then offered a dry sort of smirk, “It gets stuck in your head easy.”

“Huh. Well I agree, it’s pretty.”

Grillby nodded, and stood up from his work, and just like that their day was started.

After the first time Gaster heard the song, he caught it more and more. There was something about its repetition that seemed to keep Grillby calm in moments of stress. He would catch it on the edge of Grillby’s breath when he was reloading a spent weapon, not an outright hum, but more in the rhythm with which he expelled his smoke-filled breathing. He timed his footsteps to it as he ran, crooned it low when Gaster was panicking and Grillby was too rushed or impatient to come up with real words to calm him down. His fingers tapped it when he was counting.

The first time he heard the lyrics was when they were sneaking their way through an abandoned train station, Grillby taking them down the tracks a ways to pick up a new car he’d arranged for them. The place had seemed lonesome and decrepit, and Gaster stepped close to his bodyguard in the gloom of it. Every joint and seam of the place creaked and groaned as if a stiff wind might blow it over. Water dripped from various leaks in the roof, and twice Gaster thought he saw something go skittering away in the dark. If he had skin, it’d be crawling.

Grillby was humming the song again, here, in this gloom. Low, incredibly low, barely a breath of noise so he could hear if something came up behind them. But he timed the footsteps of his strides to it, and Gaster found his own steps matching. It gave his mind something to focus on, detracted some from his anxiety.

“That’s a waltz you know,” Gaster had said after a while, his nervousness getting the better of him and forcing him to speak, “It’s got the uh... one-two-three-time signature.”

“You can tell that?”

The interruption in the music was abrupt and somewhat unwelcome. Gaster had become so accustomed to it, he’d nearly forgotten it was Grillby’s voice and not just some natural ambiance.

“Y-yeah. It’s, if you count it, you know?” Gaster hummed a few of the now familiar measures, accenting the beats that someone might count if they were playing the instrumentation. Then suddenly Gaster found himself blurting out the question, “Do you know how to waltz Grillby?”

Oh... well... how silly of him. Immediately the skeleton found himself feeling sheepish and embarrassed. But of course, it was none of his business -

“Not really,” Grillby answered smoothly, shrugging, “I took a class for it once when I was a kid but... you know, nothing since.”

“R... really?” and then following the same impulsive little voice that was knocking against the inside of his ribs, Gaster asked, “Would you like to learn how?”

Grillby stopped walking abruptly, the jarring scrape of his boots against the grit of the crumbling floor scraping away any remnant of the song he had been humming. First the tune, then the rhythm, all sent to a jarring stop by Gaster’s intervention. The two blinked at each other, Grillby flickering through a few off-colors Gaster wasn’t used to seeing. There were blues, some flashes of maybe purple. But Grillby’s body language was stoic as ever, and Gaster had the distinct feeling like he was looking at some ancient painting trying to interpret the artist’s meaning - and much like looking at artwork, he found the subject beautiful, but altogether unreadable. Standing here wrapped up in Grillby’s stare, Gaster found himself suddenly incredibly aware of how his lanky body shambled itself together. His bones felt uncomfortable under his clothes, his soul felt tense and unnatural in his ribs, he worried if his posture was wrong, or if his expression looked too desperate or stupid.

Just as he thought to maybe stammer something, an apology, or, or something, Grillby was breaking eye contact and sweeping his sharp gaze around them. He walked a few steps one direction, peering off into the darkened corridors that spidered outwards from the main station room. Then he swept his gaze up to the windows near the ceiling, searching for any sign of movement or disturbance.

And then, unbelievably, with an almost laughable casualness, Grillby turned back to face Gaster and said, “Yeah. Actually, that would be nice.”

It took Gaster a long second to realize Grillby had said yes, another second to realize he’d meant Gaster to teach him right here, right now. And then with an awkward stammer and a shuffle of uncoordinated movement Gaster stepped them over to a clear space in the station and explained somewhat falteringly how Grillby was meant to stand. They were suddenly incredibly close, feeling closer than normal simply because they were face to face. Gaster’s hands had found their natural places on Grillby’s side, and with their fingers interlacing. But though Gaster was sure he’d waltzed dozens of times in his life, never had the touch of it felt so warm and nerve-wracking. His soul was in knots, and he tried his damnedest not to stammer every other word out past his awkward teeth. But if Grillby noticed how flustered he was, he gave him the mercy of ignoring it - or perhaps that delicate shiver in his grip, the spinning blue hues in his flame, were all his own quieter nervousness.

Gaster stepped them in a circle, one-two-three, one-two-three, he counted. And Grillby, the natural that he was, leaned gracefully into the movements as if he’d done them all his life. Maybe it was his carefully maintained athleticism that gave him a clear vision of where and how his body was supposed to move - even if the moves were foreign - or maybe he remembered more of that class from his childhood than he let on. Maybe he knew how to waltz all along and he was just humoring Gaster for… for gods knew what reason?

Maybe he only seemed so confident because he was quiet, and in reality, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

Gaster filled the silence for the both of them coaching, somewhat uselessly, the one or two steps that Grillby took oddly. He hummed a couple measures of Grillby’s song, stepping their feet with them.

“Hmmm--mm-hmm…. One--two-three… can you tell it’s a waltz now?”

Grillby nodded. Flickered like he was about to speak but glanced down at their feet instead. And then, suddenly, that augmented sort of lullaby wafted with the smoke of his breath as Grillby started singing.

“Dancing bears, painted wings,

Things I almost remember,

Then a song, someone sings

Once upon a December -”

His eyes were half lidded with concentration, his gaze ever sweeping between his hands and his feet, Grillby was too distracted to see the absolute wonder that washed itself across Gaster’s face. He was speechless, he was nearly breathless. It seemed to Gaster it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard or felt. Singing so close to him, the words might as well have been whispered from Grillby’s soul straight into his, and in the silence Grillby’s voice rang and echoed, curling around them both like its own haze of magic, their feet a steady metronome against the cracked tiled floor. Grillby was through the song before Gaster was coherent enough to even catch most of the words. He was too focused on Grillby’s face, the movements of his chest, the seeping warmth of his grasp. And dazed and spellbound, he didn’t realize they’d stopped dancing for a few embarrassingly long seconds.

And then he was breaking their grasp too quickly and turning away from Grillby in a furious attempt to hide his blush. But even after they’d stepped away from each other, the warmth of Grillby’s hand on his shoulder, and of their fingers interlaced left a tingling warmth like electric on the surface of his bones.

The next time Gaster heard the song, was at a time when he thought he’d never hear it again.

Alone in a dark cell, aching from broken and bruised bones, his every breath a groan of pain. The only reason he didn’t cry was because hurt his injured ribs too much. He’d been captured, finally, by the monsters pursuing them. Ripped away from Grillby in a staggering ambush, the last he’d seen his bodyguard, his companion, Grillby had been cornered by three monsters, fighting so desperately he was nearly biting and clawing to get past them. He’d been low on ammunition, lost most of his knives, down to just his magic and his wits.

And then Gaster had been knocked unconscious, only to come back to life hours later with a splitting headache and the dark assuredness that Grillby must have died. He never would have let them take him alive, after all.

He’d had no time to mourn before they were shoving blueprints in his face, grilling him for answers on his experimental works. Demanding he build them something, maintain it, give them whatever cruelty they were asking for. He’d refused bravely, only to learn with breathtaking quickness that pain makes a coward of nearly every creature on the face of the earth. He didn’t know how Grillby did it. How he endured wounds and still managed to carry them out of every terrible situation they’d ever been in, how he could be choked and shot and stabbed within an inch of his life only to crawl back to his feet and keep going. Gaster had turned into a cracked, begging, wailing coward the minute he’d gotten a solid enough kick to the ribs. He’d held out, yes, he’d held out. But only because he couldn’t find the breath to stammer coherent words, to offer his submission. If they came back… when they came back… he didn’t know what he’d do.

He mulled over that in aching misery on the floor of his cell, listening to the shuffling as various monsters shifted their guard over him. He’d lost all sense of time, all sense of comfort and warmth. As far as he knew, he’d lost everything. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He could try escaping but he didn’t know where to start, or even if it was worth it, and for the moment at least he ached too much to try.

Gaster didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he knew why he woke up.

He woke up because of the many monsters that had been coming in and out of the room to keep guard over him. Suddenly half of them made a scrambling dash down the hall. Their voices shouted something rushed, that he was too tired to parse. The air was thick with a smothering silence as it seemed the captors that remained in the room with him held their breath. Once or twice there was the shuffle of a footstep, a nervous cough, a mutter from one monster to the next of uncertainty.

And then Gaster heard it, first as a wilting, augmented tune so strung out by the distance he could hardly tell it was music. Then slowly louder, close enough that he could make out the tune even if he couldn’t hear the words yet, and with it a growing, flickering light down the hall. Some of the monsters in the room with him swore, the air prickled with magic. Gaster heard the muted click as someone pull the hammer back on a pistol.

“Someone holds me safe and warm,

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully across my memory…”

Grillby was there, standing right there at the entrance to the room, looking nearly as haunting as the song he sang. In fact, if Gaster weren’t so fond of the song as something to dance to, so fond of the elemental himself, he was sure he’d be terrified seeing Grillby standing there like some wrath-filled angel in the doorway. His face was expressionless, the glare on his glasses hiding whatever direction his eyes could be looking. The color of his flame was bright yellow, a sustained and bleaching color, and it made the black of his clothing like pitch, like nightfall in comparison, and the dust that spattered him gore-covered stars.

For a moment it seemed he carried no weapon besides the menace of his presence. And then his hand moved, and then the rest of him like a flood. There was the glint of a thrown knife and one monster was dust. The blinding flash of fire and sparks, the thunder of screams and breaking bodies. And lilting and dancing through it all, waltzing in the madness, that song.

“Far away, long ago

Glowing dim as an ember

Things my heart used to know

Things it yearns to remember-”

Callously, with about as much care as someone brushing trash out of their way, Grillby kicked some dust aside and picked up the keys to Gaster’s cell. His voice had settled into a low hum again, the color of his flame the more natural, and warmer. He pulled open the door and lifted Gaster first to his feet, and then deciding Gaster was too wounded to walk on his own, picked the skeleton up entirely. Gaster wrapped his long arms around Grillby’s neck, the warmth of the flame easing the burden of his aches and pains. With a voice that shook more than he’d wished it to, Gaster whispered, “I knew you’d come for me if you could.”

Grillby shushed him quietly and, as though Gaster’s weight weren’t even there, walked smoothly out of the little cell. The hallways they passed through were dark, deserted. There was everywhere the remnants of Grillby’s violence. Things worth burning still smoldered and smoked, dust choked the hallways or splattered itself in washes against the walls. The crunch of it beneath the rhythm of Grillby’s footsteps set Gaster’s teeth on edge. Here and there were spatters of leaked magic, bullet holes scored walls. Gaster caught a bleary glance of a surviving monster that had hidden himself in a dark corner, nursing a shot to the shoulder. When he saw Grillby, he froze with wide-eyed terror. Gaster saw even the heave of his chest stopped, holding his breath to not garner attention. Grillby noticed him too - of course he did. His grip tightened imperceptibly around Gaster’s frame as he walked.

As he did so, Gaster felt something, the seep of something uncomfortably hot against his tattered coat. And then belatedly he noticed the muted taps as something dissonantly off-beat from the song Grillby hummed dripped onto the floor. Grillby was bleeding. Magic, yellow-white like the hottest parts of his flame dripped in intermittent spatters onto the floor, where it fizzled and sparked for a moment before burning itself out.

“Grillby -?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he hummed, eyes still concealed beneath the glare of his glasses, and though the mask of his face still showed nothing, his voice was gentle and warm, “It’s going to be alright, Doctor.”

His voice lilted back into that drifting hum, and this close Gaster could feel the vibration of it as it wove its way through Grillby’s chest.

“And a song someone sings

Once upon a December…”

[pacifistofpatience]

this may be the most self indulgent thing I've ever asked, but what sort of weddings would each of the skeletons want?

((ANON TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE MONSTER YOU CREATED!!)

Elop-ish—Papyrus, Red, Rus, Pappy

Quite one/family and friends thing—Sky,Sans, Boss, Jupiter, Mars

Big Party!!—Black

And on top of that:

Mix and match- Jupiter, Sky, Pappy, Mars, Boss

More monster centered- Black, Rus, Sans

More human centered- Red, Papyrus

AND ANOTHER (This is more of an afterthought):

More likely to be running around talking with others (Within Reason! Of course!): Mars, Sky

Stays by your side the entire time: Black, Sans, Pappy, Red

Follows you around: Rus, Jupiter

Drags you with him: Boss, Papyrus

Below the cut is a very long post along with outfits depending on weather you’re a dress or suit wearing Human

Undertale

Is Papyrus gonna be there? Awesome. Oh shoot wait how about Tori? She’d love it. Well if we’re gonna invite them then we gotta invite Undyin and Alphys and… Sans started out thinking it would be a quiet little thing until he remembered that he actually… has a good amount of friends that would be pretty sad (Or hell bent on beating him up) if they didn’t get invited to the wedding. A lot of the planning going to be left up to his S/O with his little additions here and there that… don’t quite make it an actual wedding but somehow make it feel like the best day of their lives. Honestly, during the entire planning session you’d think he didn’t doanything, but then he comes out actually looking nice for once in his life and (if they’re doing them) with his own, tear inducing, vows that it hits his S/O just how much they love him.

Songs you could dance to: Can’t help Falling In love with you – Elvis/ Fast Car - tracy chapman

 Impulsive to a fault Papyrus falls hard and fast. It’s not that his emotions are any less genuine because of how quickly he moves, it’s just that sometimes he needs to take a step back and think of what his S/O wants before he jumps on the old marriage wagon. If he had it his way, the two of them would be married five months in and already living that blissful married life. But, given the chance to plan out the wedding, Papyrus would love to experience a human marriage first hand! He’s been to plenty of monster ones! And knows the steps well enough that you two can have your own one at a later date!

Songs you could dance to: Lucky - Jason Mraz / Earth, Wind & Fire - September

 Underswap: 

Sky has the wedding planned out long before he proposes. He’s probably been dropping little hints here and there, asking what colors his S/O would love to have for a party. Would they prefer an indoor or outdoor one? At some point they’re going to think he’s planning a surprise party for them… or… something? His S/O will be unsure of what it is until he’s finally popping the question! And then it’s a whirlwind of planning and sending out invitations as both of them rush to get married (Which is part of the reason why he had it planned out so far in advanced!) Thankfully! Sky is very much flexible and willing to work with his S/O to make this the perfect wedding! And, while you guys are at it, how about you pick and choose some of the fun monster and humans’ bits!

Songs you could dance to: I’m Yours – Jason Mraz/ Ed Sheeran - Photograph

 Pappys a sweetheart, and he loves his S/O dearly…but…maybe they could do something with less people? Maybe even something with no people. Pappy is not good with the whole ‘get married in front of a crowd of people judging him’ and, stars, if he’s going to pour his (nonexistent) heart and (very much anxious) soul out to his S/O he’s going to need the peace. More than anything he’d rather jump into the heat of the moment and marry you in some far off place somewhere with a nice view (both outside and right next to him) and just… somewhere he can just outright tell his S/O how much they really mean to him. Of course, he knows that it’s a lot to ask of someone, so he’s willing to work around his insecurities in order to make it the perfect day for the both of them. Or, if yhis S/O is willing, he’d be happy to do the whole party marriage thing and than on their honeymoon have a small, Two person affair.

Songs you could dance to: Iris – Goo Goo Dolls/ Marry Me- Train/ Poet – Bastille

 Underfell: 

The moment Red decides that his S/O is the one is the moment he knows he’s jumping all in. And that means he needs to act now, before he chickens out (like he did the last three, four, five times) He didn’t mean for it to happen like it does, but you two are probably on vacation or something and he spots a ceremony happening and just, suggests it offhand (in that totally not joking tone) and the second his S/O seems down with it is the second he’s yanking them along and thinking that as long as he can get the ring on quick enough there’s no way they can call takeies backies. (one thing he would be adamant about though is having a Elvis impersonator there, he doesn’t care what for he just needs)

Songs you could dance to: Honeybee – Steam Powered Giraffe/ Safe and Sound - civil wars/ Take Me To church – Hozier/

 Boss Is actually… Pretty quiet about the whole affair. After he asks he spends almost all his time quietly planning everything out as soon as he possibly can, its not nerves that have him, but theres a buzzing, giddy, energy thrumming in him that if he doesn’t use for something he’ll probably end up bursting! That goes all the way up until the big day, where he’s there and his just sees his S/O and crashes, Error 404 Boss not working. Its like the wave of what he now knows was anxiety just dispersed the moment he saw them there, real and solid and undoubtedly his (Because sometimes he was worried that at any moment they could change their mind, any second they could see him as he sees himself and just… just leave… and stars he cant deal with that)  But then his S/O is there, and getting married and spending the rest of their life with him because his S/O loves him and… And he’s so in love! During the end of the night there’s going to be that one big kiss where he ends up sweeping his S/O off their feet and just… never puts them down. Then for the rest of the party he’s just there holding them in his arms shoving them in everyone’s face because “LOOK! LOOK! THIS IS MY BEAUTIFUL AND STUNNING WIFE/HUSBANDS/PARTNER AND THEYRE MINE!”

Songs you could dance to: I’ll Be - Edwin McCain/ Shallows – lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper

 Swapfell: 

For Black, it’s less of a party and more of a “invite everyone I can so that they know this amazing and stunning person officially MINE’ thing. He’s going to invite every monster, he’s going to get your family there, and, if you don’t stop him, hell invite all your Exs too just to rub it in their noses that he’s the one you  choose to spend the rest of your life with! Which may also make it more of a monster-oriented wedding, where you both have a collar to give to the other instead of the traditional wedding rings. A good amount of the wedding is him putting of a calm of easy front when hes pratcally just brimming with energy underneath, because their his, because he loves them so gosh darn much, because their wearing his collar and the restrain he’s using not to jump them right there is killing him.

Songs you could dance to: Hallelujah – Jeff Buckley/ I See the Light – Rapunzel ,

 Rus  doesn’t mean for the marriage to be sudden. Heck he probably would love to have something big and smoopy where he can proclaim to everyone just how much he loves his S/O, but the impulsiveness kicks in and… well Black had always been most of his self-restraint. His S/Os going to have to rein him in so that they can have a proper wedding like he wants! And Rus likes a little familiarity, so he’d prefer a monster wedding to a human one, especially because he desperately wants to see his S/O in the collar he picked out for them! (And stars he’s getting weak thinking about the collar they have for him as well!)

Songs you could dance to: Perfect – Ed Sheeren/ Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett

 Horrortale: 

Jupiter, ever the sweetheart, would probably have something for just the two of you if he could (Or, like, a lazy movie night that ended with you guys saying your vows and that’s it) but after a little while on the surface he started to come out of his shell again… and gained a few friends (Both old and New) that would be really sad if he just came back on day announcing he’s was married to one of the greatest S/O’s in the world without them knowing! So! With the help of the greatest little bro in the world! You guys set up a nice little backyard wedding (Or anywhere in an opened field) where you guys can celebrate however you want to!

Songs you could dance to: Thinking Out Loud – Ed Sheeren/ Blackbird – The Beatles  

With Mars you never have to worry about planning! He’s going to be the one making calls and setting up dates and sending out invitations all on his own! And sure maybe he’ll burn himself out a little but he’s riding high enough that he cant tell! Just to make sure he doesn’t wear himself out  his S/O will have to sneak their way into his very tight planning regime to make sure, and the best way to do that is to just… give their opinion. The second Mars hears his S/O’s input he’s already making room for them to help! And, while Mars is very much a practical monster, wouldn’t it be nice to have a… sort of fairy tale wedding? It doesn’t have to be all out there but… he would love to have something sort of… Mystical about it! Because, by the stars, does he feel like a miracle happened when his S/O agreed to marry him!

Songs you could dance to: Bubbly - Colbie Caillat/ You Are in love -Taylor Swift / Laughter Lines – Bastille

[eirist]

A Taste of Summer

LAZY, HAZY, COZY NIGHT

One-shot #: 2

Disclaimer:  One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder:  I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating:  M (Suggestive & Itty Bitty Naughty)

Note: Entry for the #ZoNaSummerFestival event. Theme: Yukata.

Summary: “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami.”

Nami blinked uncertainly as she stared at the unfamiliar surroundings and a frown appeared on her face.

Where in the world is she? Did she get lost? Whoa!

She’s very sure that this is not the corridor that leads to the room she and Robin are sharing for the night.

For one, she clearly remembers being surrounded with the seemingly endless shoji screens in the area where their sleeping chambers are located.

And there is certainly no open space complete with an exquisite garden and a small pond basking in the silvery glow of the moon anywhere near where she’d come from earlier.

The sound of a souzu’s bamboo hitting the rock reached her ears. Turning towards its direction, she confirmed that this is not where she’s supposed to be.

Yep. She’s lost.

How is that even possible?

She probably made a wrong turn earlier. What she initially thought was a small, humble inn… it was a false impression… the place was humongous.

No wonder those pirate fiends they fought earlier made it their base.

The Straw Hats had docked on this island earlier and the survey group (namely Luffy, Usopp and Chopper) that scouted it cheerfully proclaimed that they saw a local inn in the mountains where they can take a ‘mini-vacation’.

Kami knows how much they need it. They’ve been doing a lot of fighting these past few weeks that its bound to push every single one of them hurtling towards insanity.

As their captain yapped about their ‘vacation time’, they all trudged uphill since said inn is in a high point overlooking a humble village.

When they arrived there, they met face to face with a really unpleasant and vicious pirate crew called the Goldiggers.

Said crew have been terrorizing the area for a month now, raiding and stealing from the townspeople in the village for sport and had made the inn their ‘headquarters’, much to the dismay of the elderly couple who runs it.

They had successfully driven out the outrageous group of ruffians. Poor pirates who haven’t heard of the names: Mugiwara no ichimi, Straw Hat Luffy and Pirate Hunter Zoro for starters.

And much to the delight of Nami, an aging map was left behind as the Goldiggers departed in panic as if the devil himself were on their heels.

That’s when they learned that the other pirate crew’s main objective for staying in the island was to hunt for treasure.

Which the navigator straightaway assigned as tomorrow’s mission… and the others know very well not to contradict.

The elderly couple, who was really thankfully that they’ve driven out the hooligans, offered to accommodate them in the inn for as long as they like… or until they were able to successfully find the treasure (Nami was adamant that they will not leave until they find it and haul it back to the Sunny—log pose locked or not—or heads will roll).

So tomorrow is going to be one heck of an adventure… and she should rest for her to be in tip-top shape for the treasure hunt.

That is… if she can find where their room is.

She felt her head droop sideways involuntarily.

That’s it! She had way too much sake. Not that she’s a light drinker, but they did party raucously and Franky kept shouting ‘kampai’ and they kept drinking toast after toast.

If she was feeling the first brushes of inebriation, then there would be no hope for the rest of her nakama.

Well… except Zoro. She could probably submerge the swordsman in a tub filled with alcohol and he will climb out of it still completely sober and asking for more.

She shivered a bit when a soft breeze blew by. Her wet yukata was clinging to her body tightly and she rubbed her arms a little for warmth. Their hosts had explained that the island is mercilessly hot during the day but it gets cooler once night-time rolls in.

Maybe that impulse to midnight skinny dip in the onsen was a bad idea.

But the steamy water was so tempting. Not to mention it offers a damn spectacular view of the sea—even in the dark of the night—that she can’t help but take the opportunity to submerge herself in it and relax by herself while the rest of her nakama partied and drank themselves to oblivion.

It was refreshing. But the combination of sake and a calming bath was making her lethargic.

She woozily made her way across the wooden floor, forcing herself to find her bearings. But it looks like her brain had already fallen asleep before her.

Thank Kami they had the place all to themselves. She can probably pass out in one of the many empty rooms; the inn had enough to accommodate each Mugiwara after all.

Up ahead she saw one of the shoji doors facing the pond garden was slightly ajar. Moving closer, she decided to peek inside out of curiosity when it slid open completely nearly making her fall on her ass from surprise.

“Eep!”

“Nami?”

The voice unmistakably belonging to their swordsman called her name.

“Zoro?” She queried in return. “You scared the crap out of me!”

The green-haired lad raised an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” She said with a frown. Then she burst into giggles. “You are lost aren’t you?”

Zoro scowled at her. “No I’m not idiot woman. This is our room.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sharing it with the other morons. But seems like they’re all too drunk to make or crawl their way here.”

She threw back her head and laugh. Zoro’s possibly correct. It was unnervingly silent considering that it was the Mugiwaras who are in the vicinity. The others are probably dead asleep or dead drunk back in the room where they’ve been celebrating.

“So you are not lost?”

A vein popped on Zoro’s forehead. “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami,” he pointed out. “Your room is on the other side.”

It should’ve been a hilarious moment… Zoro pointing out the correct directions to the navigator… if not for the fact that Nami was just staring dumbly at him.

He sneaked a closer look on her flushed face and realized that she had one too many.

“Oh…” was all she could muster after a few seconds of spacing out. “Why do you have the room with a nice view?”

Zoro did not answer her and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Then he noticed the water droplets making small puddles on the floor.

He scrutinized her thoroughly. “Why are you wet Nami?”

She snickered. “Thought it would be fun for a midnight dip.”

He stared at her disbelievingly. “You’re crazy.”

“Am not! Feels good after all that sake.” She was looking a bit dazed, blinking slowly and groggily.

Zoro sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you out of that.”

“Pervert.”

“OI! Don’t lump me on the same category as ero-cook.”

“You want me naked.”

The green-haired man blushed. “Not for the reasons you’re thinking,” he huffed. “I just don’t want Chopper in my case ok? I’d be getting it if you turn up sick because I let you sleep in that.”

He turned his back on her and marched inside the room. Nami stayed outside watching him, swaying a bit as the mixed effects of sleepiness, alcohol and the hot bath took its toll on her.

“Besides, we still have to look for that treasure of yours tomorrow right?”

Nami smiled widely at that.

“There’s a spare yukata here,” Zoro explained as he went back to her, brows furrowing as he watched her start to fall asleep on her feet. “Use this,” he ordered, offering her a dark green robe. “Might be a little too big for you though.”

“Thanks Zoro,” she smiled sassily at him.

“Hnn...”

“Shiawase punch,” she sing-songed as she untied the belt of her yukata, dropping the robe down the floor.

Zoro blanched as all the blood in his head went somewhere lower as she stood in front of him in all her naked glory.

Damn if that didn’t get him into thinking things he wants to do to her.

“Nami!” He instead hissed through gritted teeth, turning his blind side towards her to avoid seeing more than he should. Even if she was shamelessly flaunting all her assets in front him, he refused to ogle like their resident perverts out of respect, though to be honest, it was really tempting.

Realizing that she was standing outside for all the living souls to see, he pulled her inside while keeping his eye on the floor as she sniggered at his reaction. “What the hell woman! Get in here!”

Sliding the shoji doors shut, he shoved the yukata at her before turning away to compose himself. “Get dressed you crazy witch!”

She had the gall to pout at him. “You’re no fun,” she complained but did what he ordered her, sliding her arms inside the sleeves and wrapping the garment around her. She tied the belt loosely and announced, “I’m charging you for peeking Zoro!”

“The hell you are! You’re the one who undressed suddenly in front of me!” Zoro rubbed a hand on his face out of frustration. She could very well be the death of him.

He will have that image ingrained in his mind and it will not make things easy for him.

“Zoro it’s too big!” Nami complained as she poked at his arm, prodding him to look at her.

He glanced at her warily, carefully, in case she decides to subject him to her happiness punch again.

To his relief, she had donned the garment, but it was slipping down a bit that it gave him a glimpse of her shoulders… and her cleavage.

“Just tie it tightly Nami.”

“Afraid to see me naked?”

“Shut up! And you know what? Just go to sleep ok?”

“You’re such a grouch Zoro.”

“Hey! Gratitude witch. Want me to throw you outside? You can sleep in the pond for all I care!”

“Mmmm…”

She did not answer anymore and just settled down on one of the futons on the floor.

He watched as she burrowed herself on the soft mattress not even bothering with the cover duvet. She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes closed.

Zoro sat down a near her. She was mumbling something about teasing, treasure and tomorrow. He snorted. Typical Nami.

He had planned on drinking some more sake while enjoying the view outside when Nami appeared earlier. Perhaps, he still can. He slid the shoji doors open, taking care not to let too much moonlight in lest it wakes the mapmaker.

And he let himself enjoy the sake, the momentary peace, the view, while observing the orange-haired girl every now and then as she slept.

He ran a hand through his hair. Nami can be a handful. It’s tiring to deal with her that’s why most of the times he tries to stay clear of her. But there are moments when he enjoys her company… if it weren’t twisting his stomach into knots and making his heart beat fast.

Lately, they both seemed to be standing on the same ground of attraction. Both had been tiptoeing on how to handle the mutual affection they’re feeling.

That naked stint of hers is just one of the many ways to confirm what he wouldn’t outright admit.

He casually glanced at her and swallowed. She looked enticing, even more when she’s sleeping this contentedly. Her yukata had ridden up, exposing the soft skin of her thigh. The garment was open just enough to give him a glimpse of her generous cleavage as well as the curves of her breast.

Damn it all. Even sleeping, Nami was still trying to tempt him.

And if he wasn’t a man of discipline, he would have her splayed wide on that futon, moaning his name.

He shook his head and decided to call it a night.

Sliding the shoji doors closed, he covered her up with the duvet before lying down on one of the futons at the other end of the room. Far away from her.

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

Zoro woke up to the feeling of warm breath tickling his chest.

His good eye flew wide open when he realized what was causing it.

Someone was cuddled beside him.

He looked down and his eye met with orange hair and it dawned onto him that Nami was now sleeping beside him with an arm draped casually over his waist, her face almost buried in his chest.

What is she doing so close to him? She was three futons away from him and in the other end of the room.

Did he move towards her?

He looked around and saw that he was still in the same place where he decided to lie down earlier.

So that means…

Nami deliberately moved closer to him.

He drew back a little and Nami groaned at the movement.

“Stop wiggling, Zoro. I’m sleeping,” she murmured.

“What are you doing Nami?”

She sleepily looked up to his face, taking in his confused expression.

“I transferred here...”

“Why?!”

“It’s a bit drafty. And you are warm,” she answered dozily. “Now shut up.”

“Nami…”

“What?” She asked irritably. The stared at each other for a few seconds; him—unamused, while she—a bit peeved off at his reaction.

Then she snorted. “You let Momonosuke’s sister snuggle beside you to sleep. What’s the difference if I do it?”

Zoro stared at the top of her head and sighed in exasperation.

“Well for starters, she’s not almost naked beside me,” he pointed out.

Nami gripped the front of his robe. “I am not naked idiot. I’m wearing something.”

“But you are underneath that.”

Silence hovered over them, as Nami glared at him.

“And she’s not making me feel weird,” he admitted.

This time she tilted her head to see his expression much better.  “And I do?”

He nodded.

“Is it a good weird or a bad weird?”

Zoro shrugged.

Nami pulled back a little. His answer was really vague and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe she was reading a bit too much than what is actually there between them.

She was about to push off away from him when his hand went to her nape, stopping her.

His lone, grey eye stared straight into her brown ones. “She’s also not making me want to do this,” he muttered, pressing his lips on hers softly.

And Nami inhaled sharply at the sensation. The hand that was resting on his waist gripped his yukata tightly

Zoro pulled away to study her reaction. She was looking at him with half lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted. He moved his head down to claim her lips again, this time for a much deeper, longer kiss.

Nami smiled against his mouth and he reluctantly pulled away.

“Anything else I make you want to do that she doesn’t?” She asked in a hushed tone

“Yeah,” Zoro answered breathlessly.

“Well what are you waiting for? We’ve got the whole night.”

[zonamievents]

A Taste of Summer

A Taste of Summer

LAZY, HAZY, COZY NIGHT

One-shot #: 2

Disclaimer:  One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder:  I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating:  M (Suggestive & Itty Bitty Naughty)

Note: Entry for the #ZoNaSummerFestival event. Theme: Yukata.

Summary: “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami.”

Nami blinked uncertainly as she stared at the unfamiliar surroundings and a frown appeared on her face.

Where in the world is she? Did she get lost? Whoa!

She’s very sure that this is not the corridor that leads to the room she and Robin are sharing for the night.

For one, she clearly remembers being surrounded with the seemingly endless shoji screens in the area where their sleeping chambers are located.

And there is certainly no open space complete with an exquisite garden and a small pond basking in the silvery glow of the moon anywhere near where she’d come from earlier.

The sound of a souzu’s bamboo hitting the rock reached her ears. Turning towards its direction, she confirmed that this is not where she’s supposed to be.

Yep. She’s lost.

How is that even possible?

She probably made a wrong turn earlier. What she initially thought was a small, humble inn… it was a false impression… the place was humongous.

No wonder those pirate fiends they fought earlier made it their base.

The Straw Hats had docked on this island earlier and the survey group (namely Luffy, Usopp and Chopper) that scouted it cheerfully proclaimed that they saw a local inn in the mountains where they can take a ‘mini-vacation’.

Kami knows how much they need it. They’ve been doing a lot of fighting these past few weeks that its bound to push every single one of them hurtling towards insanity.

As their captain yapped about their ‘vacation time’, they all trudged uphill since said inn is in a high point overlooking a humble village.

When they arrived there, they met face to face with a really unpleasant and vicious pirate crew called the Goldiggers.

Said crew have been terrorizing the area for a month now, raiding and stealing from the townspeople in the village for sport and had made the inn their ‘headquarters’, much to the dismay of the elderly couple who runs it.

They had successfully driven out the outrageous group of ruffians. Poor pirates who haven’t heard of the names: Mugiwara no ichimi, Straw Hat Luffy and Pirate Hunter Zoro for starters.

And much to the delight of Nami, an aging map was left behind as the Goldiggers departed in panic as if the devil himself were on their heels.

That’s when they learned that the other pirate crew’s main objective for staying in the island was to hunt for treasure.

Which the navigator straightaway assigned as tomorrow’s mission… and the others know very well not to contradict.

The elderly couple, who was really thankfully that they’ve driven out the hooligans, offered to accommodate them in the inn for as long as they like… or until they were able to successfully find the treasure (Nami was adamant that they will not leave until they find it and haul it back to the Sunny—log pose locked or not—or heads will roll).

So tomorrow is going to be one heck of an adventure… and she should rest for her to be in tip-top shape for the treasure hunt.

That is… if she can find where their room is.

She felt her head droop sideways involuntarily.

That’s it! She had way too much sake. Not that she’s a light drinker, but they did party raucously and Franky kept shouting ‘kampai’ and they kept drinking toast after toast.

If she was feeling the first brushes of inebriation, then there would be no hope for the rest of her nakama.

Well… except Zoro. She could probably submerge the swordsman in a tub filled with alcohol and he will climb out of it still completely sober and asking for more.

She shivered a bit when a soft breeze blew by. Her wet yukata was clinging to her body tightly and she rubbed her arms a little for warmth. Their hosts had explained that the island is mercilessly hot during the day but it gets cooler once night-time rolls in.

Maybe that impulse to midnight skinny dip in the onsen was a bad idea.

But the steamy water was so tempting. Not to mention it offers a damn spectacular view of the sea—even in the dark of the night—that she can’t help but take the opportunity to submerge herself in it and relax by herself while the rest of her nakama partied and drank themselves to oblivion.

It was refreshing. But the combination of sake and a calming bath was making her lethargic.

She woozily made her way across the wooden floor, forcing herself to find her bearings. But it looks like her brain had already fallen asleep before her.

Thank Kami they had the place all to themselves. She can probably pass out in one of the many empty rooms; the inn had enough to accommodate each Mugiwara after all.

Up ahead she saw one of the shoji doors facing the pond garden was slightly ajar. Moving closer, she decided to peek inside out of curiosity when it slid open completely nearly making her fall on her ass from surprise.

“Eep!”

“Nami?”

The voice unmistakably belonging to their swordsman called her name.

“Zoro?” She queried in return. “You scared the crap out of me!”

The green-haired lad raised an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” She said with a frown. Then she burst into giggles. “You are lost aren’t you?”

Zoro scowled at her. “No I’m not idiot woman. This is our room.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sharing it with the other morons. But seems like they’re all too drunk to make or crawl their way here.”

She threw back her head and laugh. Zoro’s possibly correct. It was unnervingly silent considering that it was the Mugiwaras who are in the vicinity. The others are probably dead asleep or dead drunk back in the room where they’ve been celebrating.

“So you are not lost?”

A vein popped on Zoro’s forehead. “I think you’re the one who’s lost Nami,” he pointed out. “Your room is on the other side.”

It should’ve been a hilarious moment… Zoro pointing out the correct directions to the navigator… if not for the fact that Nami was just staring dumbly at him.

He sneaked a closer look on her flushed face and realized that she had one too many.

“Oh…” was all she could muster after a few seconds of spacing out. “Why do you have the room with a nice view?”

Zoro did not answer her and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Then he noticed the water droplets making small puddles on the floor.

He scrutinized her thoroughly. “Why are you wet Nami?”

She snickered. “Thought it would be fun for a midnight dip.”

He stared at her disbelievingly. “You’re crazy.”

“Am not! Feels good after all that sake.” She was looking a bit dazed, blinking slowly and groggily.

Zoro sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you out of that.”

“Pervert.”

“OI! Don’t lump me on the same category as ero-cook.”

“You want me naked.”

The green-haired man blushed. “Not for the reasons you’re thinking,” he huffed. “I just don’t want Chopper in my case ok? I’d be getting it if you turn up sick because I let you sleep in that.”

He turned his back on her and marched inside the room. Nami stayed outside watching him, swaying a bit as the mixed effects of sleepiness, alcohol and the hot bath took its toll on her.

“Besides, we still have to look for that treasure of yours tomorrow right?”

Nami smiled widely at that.

“There’s a spare yukata here,” Zoro explained as he went back to her, brows furrowing as he watched her start to fall asleep on her feet. “Use this,” he ordered, offering her a dark green robe. “Might be a little too big for you though.”

“Thanks Zoro,” she smiled sassily at him.

“Hnn…”

“Shiawase punch,” she sing-songed as she untied the belt of her yukata, dropping the robe down the floor.

Zoro blanched as all the blood in his head went somewhere lower as she stood in front of him in all her naked glory.

Damn if that didn’t get him into thinking things he wants to do to her.

“Nami!” He instead hissed through gritted teeth, turning his blind side towards her to avoid seeing more than he should. Even if she was shamelessly flaunting all her assets in front him, he refused to ogle like their resident perverts out of respect, though to be honest, it was really tempting.

Realizing that she was standing outside for all the living souls to see, he pulled her inside while keeping his eye on the floor as she sniggered at his reaction. “What the hell woman! Get in here!”

Sliding the shoji doors shut, he shoved the yukata at her before turning away to compose himself. “Get dressed you crazy witch!”

She had the gall to pout at him. “You’re no fun,” she complained but did what he ordered her, sliding her arms inside the sleeves and wrapping the garment around her. She tied the belt loosely and announced, “I’m charging you for peeking Zoro!”

“The hell you are! You’re the one who undressed suddenly in front of me!” Zoro rubbed a hand on his face out of frustration. She could very well be the death of him.

He will have that image ingrained in his mind and it will not make things easy for him.

“Zoro it’s too big!” Nami complained as she poked at his arm, prodding him to look at her.

He glanced at her warily, carefully, in case she decides to subject him to her happiness punch again.

To his relief, she had donned the garment, but it was slipping down a bit that it gave him a glimpse of her shoulders… and her cleavage.

“Just tie it tightly Nami.”

“Afraid to see me naked?”

“Shut up! And you know what? Just go to sleep ok?”

“You’re such a grouch Zoro.”

“Hey! Gratitude witch. Want me to throw you outside? You can sleep in the pond for all I care!”

“Mmmm…”

She did not answer anymore and just settled down on one of the futons on the floor.

He watched as she burrowed herself on the soft mattress not even bothering with the cover duvet. She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes closed.

Zoro sat down a near her. She was mumbling something about teasing, treasure and tomorrow. He snorted. Typical Nami.

He had planned on drinking some more sake while enjoying the view outside when Nami appeared earlier. Perhaps, he still can. He slid the shoji doors open, taking care not to let too much moonlight in lest it wakes the mapmaker.

And he let himself enjoy the sake, the momentary peace, the view, while observing the orange-haired girl every now and then as she slept.

He ran a hand through his hair. Nami can be a handful. It’s tiring to deal with her that’s why most of the times he tries to stay clear of her. But there are moments when he enjoys her company… if it weren’t twisting his stomach into knots and making his heart beat fast.

Lately, they both seemed to be standing on the same ground of attraction. Both had been tiptoeing on how to handle the mutual affection they’re feeling.

That naked stint of hers is just one of the many ways to confirm what he wouldn’t outright admit.

He casually glanced at her and swallowed. She looked enticing, even more when she’s sleeping this contentedly. Her yukata had ridden up, exposing the soft skin of her thigh. The garment was open just enough to give him a glimpse of her generous cleavage as well as the curves of her breast.

Damn it all. Even sleeping, Nami was still trying to tempt him.

And if he wasn’t a man of discipline, he would have her splayed wide on that futon, moaning his name.

He shook his head and decided to call it a night.

Sliding the shoji doors closed, he covered her up with the duvet before lying down on one of the futons at the other end of the room. Far away from her.

————————-

Zoro woke up to the feeling of warm breath tickling his chest.

His good eye flew wide open when he realized what was causing it.

Someone was cuddled beside him.

He looked down and his eye met with orange hair and it dawned onto him that Nami was now sleeping beside him with an arm draped casually over his waist, her face almost buried in his chest.

What is she doing so close to him? She was three futons away from him and in the other end of the room.

Did he move towards her?

He looked around and saw that he was still in the same place where he decided to lie down earlier.

So that means…

Nami deliberately moved closer to him.

He drew back a little and Nami groaned at the movement.

“Stop wiggling, Zoro. I’m sleeping,” she murmured.

“What are you doing Nami?”

She sleepily looked up to his face, taking in his confused expression.

“I transferred here…”

“Why?!”

“It’s a bit drafty. And you are warm,” she answered dozily. “Now shut up.”

“Nami…”

“What?” She asked irritably. The stared at each other for a few seconds; him—unamused, while she—a bit peeved off at his reaction.

Then she snorted. “You let Momonosuke’s sister snuggle beside you to sleep. What’s the difference if I do it?”

Zoro stared at the top of her head and sighed in exasperation.

“Well for starters, she’s not almost naked beside me,” he pointed out.

Nami gripped the front of his robe. “I am not naked idiot. I’m wearing something.”

“But you are underneath that.”

Silence hovered over them, as Nami glared at him.

“And she’s not making me feel weird,” he admitted.

This time she tilted her head to see his expression much better.  “And I do?”

He nodded.

“Is it a good weird or a bad weird?”

Zoro shrugged.

Nami pulled back a little. His answer was really vague and she doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe she was reading a bit too much than what is actually there between them.

She was about to push off away from him when his hand went to her nape, stopping her.

His lone, grey eye stared straight into her brown ones. “She’s also not making me want to do this,” he muttered, pressing his lips on hers softly.

And Nami inhaled sharply at the sensation. The hand that was resting on his waist gripped his yukata tightly

Zoro pulled away to study her reaction. She was looking at him with half lidded eyes, her lips slightly parted. He moved his head down to claim her lips again, this time for a much deeper, longer kiss.

Nami smiled against his mouth and he reluctantly pulled away.

“Anything else I make you want to do that she doesn’t?” She asked in a hushed tone

“Yeah,” Zoro answered breathlessly.

“Well what are you waiting for? We’ve got the whole night.”

((Thank you @evilishei for this belated but greatly appreciated Yukata submission! ~ Maiden))

[fandomseverywhereassemble]

He Stayed Quiet

Hey guys!!! So, recently, I listened to a beautiful song by @lovelylangst (seriously, it’s so beautiful I still get goosebumps listening to it, so hit them up if you want to listen to it.)  I wrote down the lyrics at the end, but the words themselves don’t do the song enough justice.

Anyway, I got some of the greatest inspiration to write a little something based off of that song.  And here it is!  I hope y’all enjoy.

(Trigger warning for abuse.)

Being quiet was harder than most people would think.  Especially for Lance, who was always so bubbly and happy and smiling.  If there was noise in the Castle, it was because he was making it.  He couldn’t sneak around the Garrison as Hunk or Pidge could.  He was always the one who bumped into a table, knocked something over, and alerted Iverson or whoever was on duty that there were cadets out after curfew.

He was the one who would get kicked out of the library because he was laughing too hard and too loud.  Yes, Lance, you really are being that loud. Pidge would roll their eyes and say.

He was the person who had no clue how much noise he was actually making.

He was the person who couldn’t quite grasp that whispering and talking were two different things until he was well into fourth grade.  Sometimes distinguishing between yelling and talking were difficult for him.

His entire life, people were always telling him to be quiet: his older siblings, his teachers, his friends, the librarian, his parents, the list goes on and on.  But now, no one was telling him to quiet himself.

Lance was doing it on his own.

Shiro was different.  Lance knew.  He had had his suspicions for a while, but now that Shiro was getting more violent, it was getting harder and harder to believe that he hadn’t been changed by his second stay with the Galra.  Maybe Keith had been Shiro’s impulse control, but the possibility of Keith being anyone’s impulse control was laughable.

It first happened when Lance had interrupted the black paladin in the middle of a strategy meeting.  There was a flaw in the plan that could have caused Pidge to become overrun if they weren’t paying attention at the exact right moment.  He didn’t even realize that Shiro had been talking until the damage was already done.

The Galran arm’s metal fingers were digging into the meat of Shiro’s bicep.  There was murder in the dark-grey eyes currently trying to bore a hole through the red paladin.  Lance had never before felt so small, so insignificant, and so inconsequential.

That mission had gone by without a hitch.  Pidge’s infiltration went effortlessly well, and they were able to avoid the guards that undoubtedly would have caught them otherwise.  Lance was feeling pretty good about himself.  He was laughing loudly with Hunk about some story that Coran was telling them.  Neither of them knew exactly what was being described, but the faces that the Altean was making and the sound effects he was somehow generating had them howling with laughter.

Pidge had come in somewhere in the middle of the story, and they had laid their head on Lance’s lap.  They silently thanked him with their eyes and didn’t protest when the red paladin ruffled their already ruffled hair playfully.

Allura entered not long after, and her eyes lit up when she heard Coran’s story.  She interjected her own points every few words.  Her eyes lit up in pure joy; not even Lance’s cheesy flirting could bring her down.

All good and happy things had to come to an end, however.  Lance excused himself to take care of business.  Pidge hissed when their head fell to the cushion, its pillow having left.  They glared good-naturedly at him as he rounded the corner, a smile still on his face when he ran into a wall of muscle.

Shiro stood in his way, his arms were crossed in front of his chest, with his prosthetic in front.  That was new.  Usually, his other arm hid the metal one from view as if he were ashamed of it.  His face was as hard as the metal posing as flesh.

The black paladin was taller than the others by a few inches at the most -excluding Pidge- but now, Lance felt like he needed to look two feet above himself just to look the team leader in the eyes.

“Lance!  You’re just the person I was looking for!”  His voice wasn’t normal.  It wasn’t robotic, but the enthusiasm seemed incredibly forced and insincere.  The casual ups and downs of his voice were the same, but they still weren’t right.

Lance kept the smile plastered to his face from his time with the other paladins.  “Yeah, I just need to run to the restroom really quick; I’ll be right back!”  He pushed past Shiro.  The hallways were tight enough as it was without a giant from one of Coran’s stories blocking his way.

The Galran shot out and grabbed Lance’s upper arm, squeezing tightly and pressing him up against the wall.

“Shiro?  Can this wait for like, two minutes?  I really gotta pee.”  Lance raised an eyebrow at the older man.

Fingers dug further into Lance’s arm, and the tips of his fingers started to tingle slightly.  “I just wanted to thank you.”  Shiro smiled, but the motion didn’t reach his eyes; it barely even reached his mouth.  “For graciously interrupting me during the meeting.  We never would have been able to spot such an obvious and vital problem if it weren’t for you.”

Lance’s dark blue eyes widened slightly.  “Oh, sorry about that.  I’ll be honest I wasn’t listening that closely because I saw-”

“Oh, my mistake,” Shiro said.  His voice was dripping with something that Lance couldn’t quite identify.  “If you weren’t paying attention, I guess all is forgiven.”  His grip hadn’t let up slightly since they started this conversation, and Lance’s hand was beginning to go numb at an alarming rate.

He smiled shyly back at the leader.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, and I really don’t mean to cut this conversation short, but unless you want me to go right here, and right now, I really need to use the restroom.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Shiro spat.  He curled the metal fingers deeper into Lance’s muscles before he released it.

Feeling came back to his arm as blood rushed to where it was supposed to be.  It felt like he had dipped his entire left arm in near-boiling water for a split second and pulled it out just as fast, burning hot then freezing cold.  He massaged the area that Shiro’s hand had dug into as he made his way to the communal toilets.

As soon as he was finished, he rolled his sleeve up to expose the flesh that was already starting to darken from a light brown to a dark black.  He hissed as he felt around the tender skin gently.

It was in the precise shape of a handprint.

The door swung open, and Hunk stuck his head into the room.  “Oh, there you are!”  He laughed.  “We were starting to wonder if you had gotten lost.”  He went to the sink right next to Lance’s to wash his hands.  “I tried to give Pidge a piggy-back ride because Allura and Coran didn’t know what one was, and the little goblin licked me!  Not even slightly.  There was so much tongue and saliva involved.  I am even more terrified of them than I was at the Garrison.”  He raised his eyes to look at Lance through the mirror.  “Woah, where did you get that?”  He gestured vaguely with his chin toward the fresh bruise.

Lance quickly rolled his sleeve down and wracked his brain for an explanation other than ‘Shiro went Alpha on me’ and settled on: “Oh, during the last mission I had a little run-in with a guard.  He caught me a little unaware.  That’s all.”  He threw one of his award-winning smiles in the mix as well.

Hunk pouted his lip out slightly and looked skeptically at his friend in the mirror.  “Why didn’t you say anything?  That looks pretty rough.”

“It’s nothing.  I’m sure I’ll be fine soon enough.”  He smiled and slapped Hunk’s shoulders.  “Now what do you say we show the Princess and Coran what a real piggyback ride looks like?”

Things weren’t fine soon enough.  During training sessions, Shiro would hit him a little too hard a little too often.  The handprint on his arm had taken two weeks to heal.  For those two weeks, he had trouble aiming his bayard, and it showed.  He almost hit Pidge rather than the console that he was supposed to be hitting.  He did hit Hunk instead of a training bot one day.

Shiro hit him harder, more often.

Once, when Lance found himself on the ground, he pushed himself up and felt something in his chest snap.  A broken rib, he was told.

He really should take it easy on those missions, and not get himself hurt.

It became rare to see Lance without any blemishes on his once pristine and perfect skin.  He never wore short-sleeved shirts anymore, not that he had in the first place, but he started making sure that that’s all his wardrobe consisted of anymore.  He asked Coran for concealer after he ‘ran into a doorframe’ and he was cursed with a black eye.

Pidge just rolled their eyes because ‘they knew he was clumsy, but this is a new level, Lance.’

One by one, they all slowly stopped noticing every new injury that Lance was sporting.

One by one, they stopped noticing how Lance would never speak at team meetings anymore.

One by one, they stopped caring.

And through it all, the hurts, the bruises, and the false smiles, Lance stayed quiet.

Thank you so much for reading this; I really hope you like it!

Here’s the song that this was based off of, but seriously, hit them up to listen to them singing it.  You won’t regret it.

I stayed quiet

I didn’t tell a single soul

I stayed quiet

And its the truth I hold

I let you bruise me

I let you break

And I stayed quiet

With the force it takes

I didn’t want to sully

Ruin your good name

So I stayed quiet, once again

Oh, I stayed quiet*

I made it my place*

I stayed quiet*

Even though it was fake*

I stayed quiet*

Ruin my name*

I stayed quiet*

From all the things I could say*

I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

You ask me why* I stay quiet*

Is cuz I-I* had to deny* it

If I did it, I would end up

Like that girl, you left*

Buried in the dirt*

I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

Oh, I stayed quiet*

Yes, I stayed quiet*

I stayed quiet

Didn’t ruin your name

Didn’t sully your fame

Didn’t take the blame

I stayed quiet

And in return

All I do is get hurt

[fmddevin]

for daein, interviews are weird. with close friends he’s a lunatic, but within the company of those he isn’t familiar with he’s the prime example of introversion. so without a friend, impulse, or even his manager to share the screen with he shifts awkwardly, giving a wave to the camera. charisma, daein, he tries to tell himself, lifting the corners of his mouth into a smile. pretend they’re here - you’ve got this. despite what he tried to be, his attempts to be extroverted required a lot of coaxing on his end. and this was no different. an interview about his own company should be easy, and yet here he is - contemplating each and every word. but before he lets himself think of it any more, he’s opened his mouth to speak. “hello! i’m dae - devin, of impulse, and this is my portion of the videos! we don’t wanna waste any time, so let’s go!”

why is gold star media and the gold star nation family so special to you? 

oh, he knows what they’re asking here. lay on the foreigner thing thick, he can practically hear them say. but in actuality, being a foreigner had a lot to do with him seeing the company so highly. so while part of him starts piling on company praises in hopes of a hefty paycheck, he can’t see much bad about them, either. “well, i think ceo bang takes us into consideration.” at least, more than other companies do. “i feel like we’re a family in the sense that if something’s wrong, i know someone will ask - daein, do you need anything?” not that i ever would. “especially coming into the company with literally no one, you could say it was a relief to find some friends.” this was very true - the large majority of his first friends in korea were made from the company when he joined. “it was nice to know that even if i was in a new country, my gold star family would be there for me and help through the change.”

what has been your most memorable moment as a gold star artist?

he really wants to recall his both favorite and career-threatening moments - all the times he tried sneaking out, mini dorm parties, crushing on the girls he saw for two seconds a day. bur he knows more than a couple reasons his position in the group would be at risk for it, so he skips the stories and provides a safer answer. “i’d say, aside from debuting, discovering that people are starting to look up to me? i promise - i’m not egotistic or anything - but it really is a great feeling! when i get young fans or rookies saying they followed their passions because of me or my group, it’s..awesome, seriously. getting to be a part of gold star and knowing we’re reaching so many people is so cool.”

what song are you most excited to perform tonight?

"i need you! i need you!” the words are spoken with obvious enthusiasm, the boy’s entire face lighting up at the mention. to say daein had been ecstatic when word of the special stage came out was an understatement. after competing for a spot, he’d really wanted to be in origin, especially after seeing their skyrocketing success. this seemed to be the next best thing, so he was definitely happy to perform it. as usual, the mention of performing seems to take away any sign of shyness, as daein visibly perks up in his chair. “look, we’ve worked really hard on this song. it’s different than singing impulse songs, because, well...it’s not an impulse song!” it was true. it was one thing to perform something that was made for him, but to try to replicate another artist’s style was definitely a difficult thing. “we’ve been given the hard task to try and mimic origin, and i really hope we do the genesis proud with this one!” origin fans were much different than impulse’s - more outspoken, more protective, more intimidating. so he could only hope he did them justice so his page didn’t get blown up with hate. “i hope you guys have as much fun watching as we do performing for you all!”

what does it feel like to perform in such a big venue?

“intimidating! very intimidating - but i’m very, very grateful to be able to be somewhere like this. i didn’t think i’d ever make it somewhere this big,” he lies. the last part was true of course, but the first was a complete bluff. daein’s always been weird when it comes to shyness. talking in front of a camera with no one but staff? he’ll freak out, stutter over his words, count down the minutes until he can come home. but when he’s on stage? no one else matters - it’s just him, and the stage. the fans invigorate him. so whether that was in the practice rooms or madison square garden, daein had no fears getting up there anymore, only overwhelming energy. but it doesn’t exactly sound humble to say it’s “no big deal”, so he feigns fear as he assumes others will. “it’s a lot to comprehend, but as long as my members are there with me, everything will be all right. i’m just so excited that we have even more room to fit all our supportive fans!”

share a support message of encouragement to your labelmates for the concert.

there’s many people he’s fond of under the label, but daein knows better than to call out to them because he will definitely embarrass himself. so, keeping things polite, his grin widens at the thought of all his labelmates. “keep working hard, everyone! i know i don’t have to say this, you’re always doing your best! but let’s have the most fun we can have out there, and i’m really looking forward to seeing you guys all in the same space at the same time! company moments like this don’t happen often, so let’s enjoy it! let’s go get it.”

[kog0ruhn]

A Layman’s Guide to Vincent (a.k.a. “If You Deadname Me One More Time, I Swear to God...”)

Vincent is actually a “fandragon” of sorts I made for an OC for a different fandom of which I am very heavily involved: Fallout. Specifically, he was my Fallout 3 character, who wasn’t the Lone Wanderer because I thought the story in Fallout 3 was boring. How did he get shoehorned into my Flight Rising den?

I don’t know. I saw a Skydancer on the AH who made me think of him. So, you know, here we are with a hoodie-wearing transman dragon who chain smokes and used to steal shit recreationally.

Vincent was born in the backwoods of Nature territory, which is impressive since the entirety of Nature territory is “backwoods” in some way. He was one of several children of some honest, hard-working dragons living in a tiny, close knit, and rather religious community. They weren’t very tolerant of things that went “against the grain,” so to speak, and Vincent always had a knack for doing just that, especially considering the fact that he had some pretty wild habits like “claiming she was a man” and “flirting with the neighbor girls.”

Basically, being transgender in a closed-minded community is hard.

He was always a headstrong guy, though, and rather than suffer being called “Dazzle” one more time, he packed up his things and decided he’d just go somewhere else. Anywhere else. He was young and woefully unprepared for how harsh the wilderness could really be, but fuck it. Being devoured by cannibalistic wildclaws was preferable, all in all.

Through a comedy of errors, he stumbled headfirst into a somewhat primitive tribe of dragons led by Chandra, a transwoman Guardian who took one look at Vincent and said, “I like your spunk. Welcome home.”

I have a desperate need for this dragon now...

Chandra taught him a lot of things: fighting, foraging, and the basics of survival. She taught him confidence and acceptance of one’s self and, once he was a right cocky jerk with the right tools at his disposal, set him loose upon the world. She expected him to do great things with himself.

Uh... about that.

He Totally Became a Raider

The problem with Vincent is just what Chandra liked about him: his desire to succeed. This is unfortunately counterbalanced by a Plague-like drive to survive at any and all costs, and morals tend to get thrown out the window in favor of convenient ways to make ends meet. Without his family or Chandra to guide him on a better path, he was quickly swept up by a band of raiding dragons called the War Dogs. They were a roving band of berserkers with roots in the Scarred Wasteland, but they were prone to wandering wherever pickings seemed plentiful. Thankfully for Vincent, they were in Nature territory at the time.

Hooray.

To be honest, though, he wasn’t only quick to join them because “easy money” and “oh, look, they have food.” His primary motivation was his untapped libido and the fact he developed the hots for one of their members from a distance. Her name was Sadie, and they could write songs about the wild adventures they had.

Don’t get your hopes up. This ends badly.

Sadie was the Batman to his Robin. The bacon to his eggs. They had a wild and passionate affair amidst a crime spree that spanned every northern territory in Sornieth. He would have moved heaven and earth for her, all the way until the War Dogs found themselves receiving a taste of their own medicine. Shortly after taking their act to Dragonhome, their raiding camp was, well, raided, and anyone who couldn’t make it away in time was killed rather brutally. 

Well, except Sadie. She just vanished into thin air. Vincent was adamant that this meant that she was alive and kidnapped, but none of his fellow War Dogs would pony up the resources to help him go after her. He decided to go at it with the one guy who’d throw him a bone--his best friend, Riot--but they lost track of the abductors and got lost in the deserts and badlands.

Riot vouched to find his way back. Vincent was disillusioned and refused to return. He went back to the old, destroyed raiding camp and plopped himself down, waiting in hopes the perpetrators would come back to scavenge.

They didn’t. So he just waited indefinitely.

Then Along Came a Spiral...

Vincent was eventually found by somebody who came stumbling across his camp, but it wasn’t Sadie’s abductors. No, it was just a clan of dragons called The Outlanders, led by this irritating green Spiral named Shriek. She wanted directions, he’d kind of learned his way around while foraging, and then she decided she didn’t want to leave him behind. While he wasn’t exactly looking for friends, she made the convincing argument of “I can feed you” and “we’re trying to make an alliance with some clans in a nice canyon to the north.”

Which... by that point, Vincent realized he was probably going to die in the desert before he found Sadie’s killers. After a life of huffing and puffing and fighting and struggling, settling down with three square meals a day in a place with commerce and resources seemed like a dream-come-fucking true. Sure, yeah, he’ll go with your band of misfits and live a cozy life.

Thus, he ended up in Irthskaar with The Outlanders when they were inducted into The Abandoned. Neat, huh?

Uh... No. Because Flauros Happened.

I know that The Flauros Incident is something I’ve beaten into the ground on this blog, but it’s big and important. Evil dragon used a Not-Dragon to try to take control of Irthskaar and kill off The Abandoned and yada yada yada. In all honesty, Vincent would have never been affected if not for the fact that his life of fighting and killing and stealing and sneaking and all that illicit stuff that is normally bad didn’t end up being very useful when fighting a coup. When Snap of Clan Elsewhere, self-appointed War Leader during the crisis, caught wind of Vincent’s special talents and dark past, she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse because if he refused she would kill him.

Thus, Vincent became an impromptu assassin.

What did he accomplish? A lot of underhanded murder.

What did this underhanded murder do? He’s not sure if it had any longstanding effects for the clans as a whole, but it sure pissed him off and left him exhausted.

And when the Flauros Incident ended, did he receive any recognition?

Uh, not really. Snap thanked him. He got payment for the jobs he completed. He went home bitter and rolling his eyes. 

Then Elder Happened.

... But thankfully Vincent wasn’t around to really deal with the rising of Elder and his minions.

You see, The Outlanders--who played a major role in the quelling and containing of Flauros--ended up on the bad side of pretty much everyone in Irthskaar because they refused to destroy Flauros. She became their leader’s little trophy pet, and everyone started stiffing them. When Elder showed up and began to wreak havoc, The Fifteen (and especially Snap) blamed Flauros for it without any proof, and The Outlanders were all convicted of treason and exiled.

So, while Elder was thrashing everyone in the canyon, Vincent was watching from a cushy seat on the outskirts, probably screaming, “Kick ‘em in the face!” every time he witnessed a skirmish.

Of course, when the siege ended and Elder was ousted and Flauros became a hero for her actions (whether or not she really understood them), The Outlanders were allowed to come on back home. And so Vincent... went home.

All in all, it was a very uneventful time for him.

So, What’s the Jerk Up To Now?

Well, he basically does mercenary work and hits on a Pearlcatcher named Lazarus from a new, exciting clan who recently came to Irthskaar and joined their alliance. The clan in question is a bunch of former raiders, too, which means he relates to them on a level not many other dragons can.

And he wants to relate to Lazarus. In bed.

H...hot?

Years have passed and he’s older, more learned, less impulsive, and a bit more restrained. He still has his acid wit, dark sense of humor, and dubious morals, but is in general a pretty easy guy to get along with so long as you play by his rules. He spends a surprising amount of time, when he’s not doing dangerous oddjobs, teaching members of The Outlanders how to protect themselves and survive.

Part of it is because he’s quietly become more like Chandra as he got older, and part of it is because if something new and awful happens in Irthskaar, he wants to be left out of it. They can defend themselves. Fuck you, Snap.

[wsstandsfor]

Jagged Zephyr

Summary: As an infant, Jakob is rescued by the Black Widow. She raises him as her own son. To the Russian government he’s Worldwide Cultured Yakov Yakovleyvich Romodanovsky. To his Mama, he’s "Yasha," "lapochka," and “solnishko.” She tells him stories of days gone by. A Soldier and a Widow.

A teenage Wolf Spider is kidnapped from his own home by a dead man walking - Leo Novokov.

For @redwinterxwhitewolf​. At some point, I’ll write the real aftermath but here. It’s done for now.

Content Warnings: Torture, Gore. Leo Novokov chewing the scenery.

Mama is away so the Spiderling plays. Does all of his training. Walked along the Neva. Baked her favorite bread for when she returns. Cuddled Liho. Watched all the movies (gross, balls to the walls slashers that he mocks relentlessly) and stayed up until dawn playing video games modded to hell and back. Ate way too much ice cream for dinner.

Day three is when he impulsively purchased a box of copper red hair dye. It's been a while since he's tried the color. His first go around when he was in a Tokyo hotel at age 8 left a lot to be desired. Straight bleached his hair first, then put the dye in. The result was something akin to a traffic light Mama had to pay good money to fix.

Hey, it was his first DIY!

Sang along to the blasting music (some k-pop song), drumming his fingers against the newspaper lined counter while he waits for the timer to ding. Lights flicker. Squinted, leaving the music on. Peeled and trashed the plastic gloves to check his phone for the security system, in his haste knocking the remainder of the dye into the sink. "Cyka blyat." Porcelain was gonna stain. Maybe. It’ll be a real pain in the ass to clean. That’s Spiderling’s problem for another day. More pressing matters, like-

[Security system offline.]

Painfully aware he's wearing an old robe, slippers, and a shower cap, face and neck slick with petroleum jelly. Mama, James, and their friends have been in worse. Naked, even. Sidearm and knife from under the sink. Shivers.

Be nice to have real clothes. Sneaked through the other door, back to his bedroom, for his training gear. Avoided all the creaky floorboards, the boobytraps, to quickly change into his simple black sweats and tac boots. Stiletto knives, combat knife. Nods a little to himself. This is his home and he’s gonna protecc.

Opens the door! Shuts the door on some asshole’s head! Opens the door again, kicking the downed bastard to get in the hallway. The goons are easy, they have to go one at a time on the stairs. Knife here, punch there. Somewhere, his phone switched to what qualifies as k-pop dubstep sound mixing well with the mental red lights flashing in his head. How many can he actually handle at once though? Sure, he’s a super soldier and trained by Black Widow and a few of her friends but he’s still a teenager who’s still working on patience and planning.

It’s a lot of stabbing, silenced shooting, a well-placed punch and kicks. It’s a lot of “GET HIM! GET HIM!” Spray of machine gun. The boss shot that fucker first though. 

“It’s hard to get good help these days,” the long-haired man sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “Should’ve saved my money.” Couple henchmen remain, plus the boss. Jakob’s hair (crusting, past time for the rinse) on the back of his neck stands up. This guy was built differently.

“Wanna tell me who the fuck you are?” he asked in his best growl. Just thankful it didn’t crack.

“Here I thought Natalia would give you manners,” he mused, waggling a finger. “Suppose the clone doesn’t fall far from the genetic donor. Even if the Soldier was brainwashed. So serious, back then.” A nasty smile at the confused look on Jakob’s face, “Sometimes that look too. Turn the music off and we’ll go quietly.”

“Oh yeah. Sure.” Jakob turned off the music, stuffing the phone in his pocket. With a snicker, he shoots the guy and makes his way to the stairs. Course, the goons grab him on each side and haul him back. Kicked their legs out from under them, knife to necks, teeth bared. By then, the man’s recovered (vests, everyone wears vests) to charge. Jakob fights dirty but so does this guy; full-grown, more years under his belt.

The boy’s head cracks against the sink and that’s the ballgame, everyone.

Jakob wakes to water being splashed on him, blinded between the lights pointed at him and the headache. “So, this a traditional kidnappin’?” he slured, blinking owlishly. “Water, light. Where am I, some warehouse? Ain’t m’first rodeo.” Just him and the guy and some bald old man. Tested the restraints. Yep. Super soldier proof. No good seam or lock. Lolled his head back, watching.

“It’s been a while since I’ve taken someone captive. Usually I get the information I need and kill them. Certain theatrics must be met.” The man gets close, taping ah hell electrodes to Jakob’s face and neck. “Mostly because of this. And-” An almost tender touch with a wet cloth, removing the dried petroleum jelly. A laugh, “Your hair. Were you trying to copy your mother or another Spider, little boy?”

Teeth click, “DON’T FUCKIN’ TOUCH ME.” Squirming, trying to rock the chair back but it’s no ordinary chair, it’s like one from the dentist but with extra monitors close by, menacing machines built to hold the head and stream information in. Sensory deprivation or stimulation. Needles. His mama has told stories of such places. The door to the room was red, the color of blood. A place where he had been made and rescued from such a terrible fate.

“He looks just like him,” the old man said while the long haired man patted Jakob’s cheek and steps back. “What are you-?”

“You’ll have plenty of time to brainwash him. Right now,” he said, flicking a switch. Electrical hum and Jakob screams his throat raw. “I just want to do this.” His smile is wide while he takes a seat.

“Ah. Yes, introductions,” he says after a while of watching Jakob shake and shudder like it’s his favorite television program. Battery killed, watching the boy try to collect himself, like he wasn’t just electrocuted. “I’m Leo Novokov. That’s Professor Rodchenko. I was trained by your predecessor. Professor Rodchenko-” Another laugh, “Well, he worked on all of us until he defected to America. Settled down. Family man.”

“We had a deal, Novokov. This job, for my family. Then you’ll leave us alone.”

“Yes, yes.” An eye roll. “You have my word. More than you deserve. If brainwashing wasn’t so much of an art, I wouldn’t have to kill and threaten traitors, now would I.” Rodchenko gulped, green around the gills.

“Where…Do I? What the fuck do you want with me, sides gettin’ yer kicks?” Jakob rasped, occasional spasms coursing through him. Not his first time getting electrocuted, or kidnapped (by family friends or by real bad men). He’s been able to solve this problem before. Mama raised him in the business, he’s spent hours getting the shit beaten out of him by Uncle Logan and Uncle Nick. Learned his way around a bow from Hawkeye. There was always an after to the mission, the session. Forehead kisses, a “well done, Yasha.” Which is to say, he’s pretty damn good. Just outclassed.

“You know, I was promised a fight against the West. Project Zephyr installed three sleeper agents across the Curtain. Literally sleeping. Frozen in cryo, just like the Winter Soldier. But! I was woken up by an earthquake. Years, not knowing who I was. Homeless. The right ad in the paper brought me back.”

“Must not’ve done a good job, if yer this crazy.” The brief jolt of electricity burns into his brain but the dig was worth it.

Novokov gets up in his face, brushing Jakob’s ruined hair out of his eyes, “Russia sold itself out while I slept. But the War never ends. You, Romanova, Belova, Barnes…You’re all traitors. And you will all pay.”

“Pay with this,” Jakob snarled, flipping him off. The answering slap makes him bite his tongue and he spat.

“The next time you do that, I’ll cut it off,” Novokov whispered in his ear. “Don’t expect help from the good doctor either. He worked on children younger than you.”

Pinprick to his neck. 

The drug (or maybe it’s the food, or the water) is mildly hallucinogenic so that gives a whole new twist to the solitary experience. Just him in the dark. Can’t hear anything outside. Maybe it’s none of the above and he’s just experiencing the typical sensory deprivation bullshit. Nothing he hasn’t had before. Just holds on while there’s laughing, feeling like he’s dissolving, trapped in ice. 

If he could keep his head, just dive into the imaginary world he’s been working on for years, that’d be great. He’s okay with being alone. Had to be. Loves his people fiercely. Downsides are that he can talk for hours and prefers to be moving, doing. So he talks until he can’t, paces paces paces, trying and failing to keep himself from scratching at his skin and tugging at his hair.

Rushes the door! Knocks the guy out of the way! Tackles and kills fuckin’ Leo! Beats him to death with his bare goddamn hands! For 30 fucking seconds, he thinks he’s free, he’s completed this mission, he can go home!

Applause. Novokov, leaning against the wall, clapping. “Well done. Wondered what was taking so long. A boy needs some exercise. Burn out all that aggression.”

“Show you aggro,” Jakob snarls, lunging at Novokov, ignoring how his face keeps changing to look like his, like James’, a man he’s from but never met.

“Sloppy!” Delight in Novokov’s face. “You’re all guts, aren’t you?” Not enough food or water, cramped, drugged. Jakob still gets hits in, blackens his eye. Blood on his hands, nose cracked, snarling. Kick to the stomach makes him dry heave, takes a knee. “You have promise. Romanova must be soft with you. If you can’t have a real son, a store-bought replica makes up for all those instincts. Think she’s saving you to be her next lover?”

Jakob sees red. “DON’T TALK ABOUT HER, YOU FUCK.” Useless flailing punches while Novokov hauls him up by the scruff of his neck, wordless screaming. He knows the story, he knows it's not true, he just wants to go home.

“I’m not. We’re going to send her a message,” Novokov said, cheerily dragging him back to The Chair (it’s capitalized in his mind from all the stories). Strapped the brat back in. A camera on a tripod is pointed at him, steady red light of recording shining. The lights are as bright as last time. Rodchenko hardly looks up from his station, typing away at a computer.

“Black Widow.” Novokov stands in front of him, posture relaxed. Jakob can’t see his face, but he’s sure he’s grinning like the cat who got the canary. “I’m sure you were expecting this. I’m not giving him back until I’m done with him. But,” he stepped to the side, a flourish of his hand, “He’s alive. Little rough around the edges.”

Jakob’s voice cracked as he said, “Mama! I’m okay. Nothing I can’t handle. This crazy fuck isn’t gettin’ under my skin.” Smiles, earnest, hoping that she’ll get her friends together and rain hell down on this relic.

“How far were you going to go?” Novokov practically purred, coming up to his side. “He’s part of your Soldier. Feeling sentimental in our old age?”

Growled. Always been like this. “Fuck you. She knew what sick fucks like you wanted and kept that from happening.” Flipped him off. “So she’s gonna tear you t’pieces and I’m going to kick your head around like a football.” Spat for good measure, breathing heavy after that outburst. Doesn’t flinch when Novokov’s face changes and he walks away. 

“I told you.” Metal screeched against concrete, a chair being dragged over next to The Chair. Sitting conversationally next to a little table for tools. Only these tools are pliers, a gag, and a few knives. “Do that again and I cut it off.” All Jakob can really do is pull at the cuffs that hold his wrists and cuss a blue streak, hands balled into the tightest fists he can make. Casually, Novokov takes his left hand, breaks his hold, and snips twice. Middle and trigger fingers fall onto the floor. The boy swallowed a scream; stiffened and clenched his hand tighter. “Well done. Seen grown men crack over this.” Two fingers from the floor tossed unceremoniously on the tray. 

Blood loss making him woozy, on top of everything else. Trembling, “Heh. Had a good teacher.” Smirks.

“Hmm. Speaking of teachers.” Novokov beamed, “You want to be him, little boy, you need the right stuff. Already have the skills. But there’s a few more things Comrade Winter Soldier was known for.” Patted his shoulder, sauntering off. Rodchenko glanced his way, then focused back on the monitor.

Few minutes later, Novokov sauntered back with a long object over his shoulder. Hand hacksaw, splattered with rust, “A little old school.” Fear in the boy’s eyes, thrashing like an animal caught in a trap. Motors hum, chair tilting backward, nothing but bright lights. Novokov drags and adjusts the camera so the viewer can get the whole picture. Animal fear, blood. “But if you’re committed to the bit, bits need to be missing.” Sharpie tapped to his nose, making a line across the bicep of his left arm. “Let’s get started.”

“Gonna kill…Gonna kill you-” he chanted like a prayer, unable to take his eyes away, head strapped like the rest of him. The sound when the (it’s sharp, thank fuck, but it’s still just a handsaw) serrated blade cuts and hacks is torn from his throat.

“And to think, you were going to be worried about your trigger finger.” An almost fatherly pat to his cheek.

It takes hours. The boy blacked out several times. Adrenaline and electrical stimulation to wake him up. Blood pooling on the floor, on Novokov, sweating from exertion. He takes a few breaks to drink, stretch, clean gore from the blade, to have Rodchenko apply and check the tourniquet. When he hits bone, Jakob wailed for “Mama!” It’s drawn out. It’s personal. In the end, he lays there, all screamed out, occasionally making wounded sounds at a particularly sharp grind into muscles and bone.

The sear of the cauterizing, the stench, the sound he makes will stay with him.

Once it’s over, they bring up the chair, move the camera to see all of him. Clean bandages, several transfusions, a dazed expression. “Looks more like him already.” With that shot and a smile, Novokov switches the camera off.

Blood poisoning made it hard to remember what exactly happened between the operation and waking up three weeks later in a hospital bed, Mama at his side. High enough fever will kill a super soldier.

His memories are shards of dirty, broken glass hidden in dead leaves:

Believing Novokov was his “Papa.” The Winter Soldier hacked his arm off, so Yasha must heal while they plan their next move. There’s no antibiotics. He’s prepared to die.

Winter Soldier breaking in their hideout, as icy as all the stories told.

Novokov dying slow.

Crying over “Papa.” Ugly, wretched sobs, like when Jakob first saw a dead cat on the side of the road.

Winter Soldier’s stare, behind his mask, like Jakob was the ghost. A bloody red-haired Wolf Spider, strapped to a chair, pointing a handgun at him. Infection and grief glassing his eyes. They could have been green. Could have been Constantin.

Professor being threatened by the Winter Soldier, undoing all that programming. 

“Your hair is beautiful, Yasha.” Clean, red curls. Mama’s shade. Lips to his forehead.

He heals. He talks to his therapist. He gets cybernetic surgery for a new bionic arm.

[rinnnyxr]

In 2020….Have you….

-

been into any abusive kind of relationship?

been to New York?

fractured one of your bones?

got featured in a magazine or any other media platform? tried to pet a wild animal but regretted over it later on?

got bitten by any animal or even a snake?

remained awakened for an entire night and did nothing productive out of it? broken your neighbor’s window while playing with your friends?

done any adventurous sports like sky diving, surfing, or bungee jumping?

talked to someone for more than three hours on the phone, especially when you were the one who called?

been kidnapped by someone?

been embarrassed by your parents in public? thought that you are totally going to die now but got saved at the last moment? suffered a major heartbreak? been called in the principal’s office in your school for doing too much nonsense in class?

been awarded in school or college? done someone’s assignment for money or chocolates?

saved someone’s life by risking yours?

fell asleep in a church because it was too boring out there?

befriend someone just for your own benefits?

had a major crush on one of your seniors in school or college?

been cheated on or dumped by someone?

had or have a friend whose birthday falls on the same date as yours? left your money in your clothes and washed it just like that?

gone for not taking a shower for two consecutive weeks?

sung karaoke with someone and ended up so badly?

gone for camping with your friends?

laughed so hard that tears came rolling down from your eyes? recycled a gift you received from someone by gifting it to someone else?

set a really embarrassing ringtone? seen an animal or human giving birth? gotten stitched somewhere in your body? donated some amount of your money? been the reason for someone’s smile? stayed for two days without brushing your teeth?

fallen from a moderate height?

stolen someone’s stuff?

found a wallet with money in it on the road or somewhere else and you made no effort in returning it?

manipulated someone to get out of serious trouble?

misspelled something and it turned out to be very dirty?

gone for window shopping and ended up buying a lot of stuff? bought a thing that you used never ever? broken a very expensive thing? been slapped by someone in front of your friends or family?

thought of becoming a porn star someday?

witnessed or got trapped in a tornado? caught cheating in exams?

terminated from your job forcefully?

risk someone’s life for your own benefits?

been a friend to someone who belongs to the LGBT community?

met someone who always mispronounces your name?

kicked by someone right on your ass?

got suffered from some major disease?

gone for a one night stand?

got a hickey on your neck?

been thrown into a mud pit by someone?

beaten your sibling so badly in a fight?

tried to kill yourself because of extreme stress?

seen a natural calamity like earthquake or tornado? fallen badly from the stairs?

gone for some kind of major surgery or operation?

bitten your own nails? swum into an ocean? called someone for a sleepover when your parents were not in the town?

eaten raw meat and ended up puking it?

duck tapped your younger sibling on the wall?

asked to do sit-ups as a punishment in your school?

pretended to be drunk when you were actually not?

tried to kill someone all in your mind and imagination? pretended to speak in a language that does not even exist to fool someone? sent a love letter to someone?

faked that you are extremely sick so that you can take a leave from the office?

seen the same movie with two different people/dates?

tried to eat 5 sandwiches at the same time?

come out naked from your bathroom and someone saw you accidentally? treated someone so rudely that they ended up crying out badly? eaten a whole cake out of anger?

hurt yourself by being impulsive over something? felt that you are possessed?

caught by the police for doing something illegal?

been recorded by someone while singing in the shower?

locked yourself out of the car or home?

clicked someone’s picture without their consent?

ridden some animal - like cow or elephant?

made fun of yourself in front of a lot of people to win a bet?

run out of money in the middle of the month? been assaulted by someone in childhood?

petted a dog or a cat? seen someone changing their clothes? made out while watching a movie in a theatre? dated two different people on the same day?

caught by the traffic police for breaking over the speed limit?

painted your room pink and black?

talked to yourself while watching in the mirror? taken someone’s stuff and never returned it back? gotten a jet lag?

succeeded in sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night?

met a dwarf?

tried to attempt a world record but ended up getting failed in it?

tried to run away from your house to never come back again ever?

suffered from a heart attack?

lost someone who was very dear and close to you? seen a dream which turned out to be true later on? gone shopping and ended up buying nothing? cheated on someone for someone else?

been into one-sided love? seen someone dying in front of your eyes and you could do nothing to save them?

kissed a celebrity’s picture?

dreamt about your crush? made a snow angel?

-

I like to consider the idea of getting a PhD. It scares me to make commitments regarding my future. Comparing myself to others is the #1 thing that makes me feel upset. I get really annoying and chatty when I’m scared. I enjoy memorizing things, be it poems, sequences of numbers, or whatever. After it storms, it interests me to drive around and see all the downed trees and damage. I imagine that ordinary things are magical and it makes life more fun. Sometimes I say things in a stupid accent for no reason. I love playing and usually win at trivia games. I am eagerly anticipating receiving something in the mail. I usually feel shitty after scrolling through my Facebook Newsfeed. Sometimes after hearing a song in a movie scene, I gain a whole new appreciation for the song. I don’t like it when rooms have walls that are not all the same color. I hate when there’s a cute guy around and I want him to talk to me but he doesn’t. I enjoy cleaning out and organizing my iTunes. I prefer sociology over psychology. I would describe myself as quite quiet but friendly. I tend to have dreams where I’m intensely angry more often than I have dreams where I am scared. I am terrified to ever have to write a college thesis. Clothes rarely fit me right off the rack. It’s discouraging and annoying. I will defend the things I love TO THE GRAVE. I have played the game Skylanders and it’s absolutely adorable and fun. As cheesy as it sounds, looking into the mirror and saying positive things really helps my self-esteem. It’s easy for my imagination to get going and I spook myself easily. It bothers me a bit when celebrities get to write and publish novels. Bad writing inspires me to write most, because I think, “if people enjoy THAT, they’ll definitely enjoy what I can write.” I really never want to get pregnant. I have tried almond milk, rice milk, and soy milk. Something that bothers me more than when someone says something offensive, is when someone else defends the offensive statement. I never wanted to be a princess when I was little. I adore old houses, especially if they’re “haunted.” I’m terribly embarrassed of my past self. I love the taste of garlic in food, but garlic breath grosses me out so much. I really enjoy old horror movies. I keep on remembering songs I haven’t listened to in years because of Songpop. ^ which is the first Facebook game I have ever enjoyed… Mikhail Baryshnikov is one of my idols. English is not my first language, but usually people can’t tell immediately. I have a secret notebook which no one even knows exists and I would rather die than have anyone read it. My current roommates are the best I’ve had so far. Good posture really attracts me in someone of my preferred gender. ^ as do strong, maintained eyebrows. I can’t really function with an Apple computer, lack of experience with those. I don’t feel emotions the way ”normal” people do. I don’t own a soft wallet, mine is plastic. I tend to date men with power positions when it comes to their jobs. No matter how hard I try, I seem to be unable to whistle. Good manners are quite important to me. I was once very involved in a certain sport. I actually really enjoy cleaning my ears. hahahaha. I refuse to eat ketchup on anything. I often sigh really loudly by accident. I much prefer the colder seasons to summer. When I feel extra fancy, I fishtail my hair. It is incidentally the fanciest thing I can do with it. I am a master at getting along with people when I try, because I am very good at figuring out how they want me to react and what they expect me to say, and if I don’t care about them and can’t be bothered to interact properly, I go into that mode. I refuse to mow the grass, for some reason it terrifies me. I get pretty bad season allergies. I don’t eat pork. My blood type is O positive. I have ghostly pale skin. Singlespeed bikes are my favourite. I have never used shaving cream in my entire life. I never saw any repercussions. I feel most people I have met in my life would do better if they toughened up. I have a bigger problem with people who think that feminism has anything to do with hating or belittling men than with people who don’t identify to the feminist movement. I have struggled with drug use in the past. I have never used a credit card. This year, I will vote for something on a national level. There is absolutely no carpet in my flat. Currently, I have no interest in learning how to drive. The job I want to do after school is rather uncommon. One of my favourite drinks is Kvass. :s :s :s I cook a lot, and enjoy it very much. I am a daddy’s girl, by far. My longest relationship was a long-distance one. One of my favourite bands is Iron Maiden. I am unable to write in print, I actually have to stop and remember not to write in cursive after every letter. When I was a child, I had the ”by myself” syndrome and refused any help from anyone to do whatever. It still hasn’t changed much, haha. My computer tends to overheat quite often. Fiddler on the Roof is my favourite musical. I have an incredibly high alcohol tolerance. My phone is always dead. Indian food is my favourite ethnic cuisine. My mother works in psychology. My father works in the cooking industry. He also works in the music industry. I feel very hot at the moment, and I get anxiety when I’m too hot. I’m pretty picky about things in general. However, I refuse to pick a restaurant when asked. I don’t bite my nails. I have a piece of jewelry representing a flag on my body at all times. I seldom shave my legs, my hair grows very slowly. :P I used to be pretty active in the survey community, and only just recently came back. Only one person in my family has had a serious disease such as cancer. I have no idea how much I weigh. Or how tall I am.

1. i am currently on facebook. 2. i like the band maroon 5. 3. I have hugged some of my best buddies today. 4. I have hugged someone I like today. 5. I think Bonzai waterslides are amazing. 6. i put hair clips in my hair almost everyday. 7. Hubba Bubba gum = yum. 8. I think 5 gum is disgusting. 9. I hate when I take a shower, my hair gets my back all wet. 10. It really hurts when someone hits you with a sock! 11. dachshunds are adorable. 12. I have never played chess before. 13. I don’t really care for instrumental songs. 14. i put my ipod on shuffle, but then i end up skipping half of the songs anyway. 15. i love brother/sister relationships. 16. ^I have one with someone. 17. i’m usually invisible on aim. 18. I feel like I repeat myself on every survey. 19. Today was really fun. 20. I am messaging someone through Facebook at this moment. 21. i hate when people become impatient when you are trying to do something. 22. ^Although I do. 23. All that I wanted to hear from you, something of value, something untrue. 24. People never seem to answer on AIM. 25. My cat always walk in front of my computer screen. 26. My cat is sitting on the desk right now. 27. i don’t like it when people come and watch what i’m doing on my computer. 28. i never publish any of my entries to facebook. 29. ^I don’t understand why you would. 30. I enjoy countdown surveys.

[yoinkmyheart]

hidden identities [iii]

hidden identities: part i // part ii

pairing: peter parker x superhero!f!reader word count: 1.9k warnings: violence, blood mention, prolly swearing let’s be real, sm:h spoiler (that scene under the bridge w childish gambino) summary: reader is one of peter’s best friends and has so far successfully hidden the fact that she’s a butt-kicking superhero by night until she finds herself fighting side-by-side with spider-man and getting a little injured.

dedicated to: a v v kind anon! “Duuuuuuude hidden identities is so good???!???!?!??!!!!! Like phew, they way you write Peter is so in character!!! I’m loving it and I’m so excited for part 3 😄💙💜 “

a/n: honestly, you guys are such kind readers! agh! anyway, here’s part 3. I left it so that I could do a part 4, so message me if you want one! otherwise i’ll probably leave it here folks ;) 

You only lived a couple blocks away from Liz, so you decided to walk the quiet roads to get there. Unfortunately, you miscalculated how fast you could walk and therefore how fast you could get there. 

So now you were running a little bit later than fashionably late to Liz’s party.

You had your suit tucked away in a small bag. You’d been horrified of the idea of you being unprepared in a event when you were needed and so in the end, decided that you’d bring it along.

It was your last intentions to actually put the suit to use, especially as you’d wanted to enjoy this party. Not just for Peter but for you. You were tired. The clash of school and heroism straight after school finally taking a toll on you.

However, as you rounded the corner, you realized that they—whichever star-lord was out there in the galaxy watching over your fortunes—were not about to give you a break.

You heard a electrifying blast behind you. You whipped your head around to see a puff of blue smoke in the distance and suddenly, you were jumping into a bush and changing out of your jeans and t-shirt.

When you finally emerged, you were none other than your alter-ego: Ghost.

You’d arrived at the scene of the mysterious blue smoke and the journey there, which you ran, was spent invisible. You easily snuck to the under-bridge and were now watching a bunch of men trade and test deadly weapons as if they were toys.

Apart from the three other men, you realized you were by yourself. In any other situation, you’d have found this easy, but whatever weapons those dudes had could harm you really badly. 

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch this happen in front of you?!

You kept yourself invisible and started walking as quietly as you could towards the white van. The dude with a weapon attached around his hand was checking out the weapons in the van, looking for something to convince the buyer.

Sneaking closer to the van, you peered in. Then something clicked.

Whoever these guys were, they must’ve been the same people who gave the faux-vengers their weapons of bank/deli destruction.

You were still lost in thought, astonished and marveling at the weapons when you were abruptly ripped back to reality with- yodelling?

Wait. Isn’t that Peter’s ringtone?

“Okay, what the hell was that?” One of the dealers asked, confused. Apparently they hadn’t expected it either. The ringtone whatever was still going when one of the dealers pulled out a gun.

“Did you set us up?” He asked the buyer at gunpoint, who had flung his hands up in defense. You looked between them

Just as you acted on impulse and twisted the man’s arm that held the gun, Spider-man jumped down from (seemingly) no where. Attracting all attention to him.

“Hey, come on, if you’re gonna shoot somethin-” The man fell to the ground, your hand still on his arm, twisting it so he dropped the gun. You kicked the gun away and pushed him down.

At this distraction, the buyer jumped into the car. You turned yourself visible, making the other dealer’s aware of your presence. He looked at you wide-eyed, and now, so did Spidey.

“Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, that was rude,” You smirked at the dealer.

He shook his arm, which powered up the weapon still strapped around it. It glowed a dangerous electric blue, and before you knew it, he was swinging at you.

Spiderman jumped in at the last minute, taking the brunt of the force. With Spidey down, the two dealers looked like they were going to make a run for it. You looked between the van and a hurt Spider-man.

Sorry Spidey.

You turned yourself invisible and jumped into the van unnoticed. The men were looking for you but obviously had different priorities as they started to speed away, the van doors still wide open.

To your surprise, Spider-man had come-to and shot a web out to the van. Dragging him as the van swerved and sped down the empty roads. He smashed into a bunch of bins and you winced.

Oh my god, that has got to hurt.

With Spider-man screaming down the street, you didn’t know what you could do. You were sitting behind the dealer who was blocking the van doors, so all you could do was stare helplessly at the crime-fighter being hauled.

Come on, Y/N! Do something, anything.

“We’ve got to call him” The dealer driving said, which only gained a uninterested,  yeah, yeah, from his accomplice. The accomplice hauling one of the guns up, which lit up a bright pink.

You watched as he took aim at Spidey, and just as he pressed the button, you kicked his hand, making him miss and hit some bins on the sidewalk. The man looked around, now aware that you were in here somewhere.

“We’ve got company!” He yelled to the man in the front, who’d already decided to call whoever him was. You were just hoping the call wouldn’t go through. 

Looking past the weapon-insane man, you looked out to Spider-man who’d just taken a particularly big hit on a brick mailbox. With his web cut, you watched as you tried to web the end of the van once more, catching the van door which snapped off.

Great. Now you’re stuck in a van. With no back-up hero or sidekick. Full of weapons. Invisible. While a man who knows how to function all-said weapons knows you’re here. 

You’re done for.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” The man sing-songed. He was scanning the van with beady eyes, waiting for you to move. You stayed statue still, not giving him the satisfaction of discovering you.

He shook his arm, his weapon powering up.

He’s going to just punch randomly and hope for the best. Oh god.

You breathed in and out. You still had the upper hand. You were invisible. He wouldn’t know if you were going to make a hit. You let a few minutes pass, lulling him into a false sense of security.

With a great pow, you punched him in the face. His head snapping back. You grabbed one of the weapons, and whacked him over the head with it. He fell on his butt, but he swung his arm out, zapping you in the process.

The weapon knocked you back, knocking the air out from you, as you struggled to breathe. At this, you had suddenly turned visible. You had risen into a crouched position and had your back towards the open van’s back. 

Even if you turned yourself invisible again, there was no where to run. The man smirked at you, his nose already forming an ugly bruise, his arm-weapon glowing a menacing blue.

So, with no where to run, you did the next best thing. You stepped back out of the van, awaiting the inevitable sting of the pavement only to be suddenly yanked upwards.

You looked up, realizing that Spidey had caught you with his web and was being hulled higher and higher by a dude in a big ass mechanical suit. What the fuck?

The gravity of the situation finally hit you. Gravity. This dude was going to drop you and he was only going higher and higher. Oh my god, you’re going to die. 

You started blinking back tears and screams, as you heard Spider-man struggling from above you. His web must’ve been pretty goddamn strong, because you were still holding on.

Apparently, you spoke too soon. You faintly heard beeping from above you before the web snapped, making you plummet faster and faster to the water. You twisted to make your falling at least a little slower.

Suddenly, you felt arms wrap around you. You felt a lot more air resistance, slowing your descent just enough to avoid breaking any bones. At the last second, whoever had their arms around you twisted so they’d be the one to slam into impact.

You shut your eyes, and in a big splash, you were engulfed in darkness and chilling water

Someone dropped you down onto ground and out of the water, you coughed up water from your lungs. You ripped your mask off, in an attempt to stop the suffocating feeling,  not caring at all about keeping your identity hidden. Caring a lot more about keeping yourself alive.

You realized that you didn’t get out on your own. Spider-Man, who had also taken off his mask but had his back to you, was crawling out of the water as well and-

Iron Man?!

Iron man nodded in your direction and Spider-Man flipped around, confirming your past suspicions about the superhero. Looking at you, his hair damp with eyes wider than his masks own, was Peter Parker.

“Y/N?!”

Peter was shell-shocked. He had suspected Y/N Y/L/N to be invisible girl, but he couldn’t handle the idea of it, so he had quickly dismissed it before. Once he got over his shock, he ran up to you and trapped you into a bone-crushing hug.

“You could’ve died Y/N! What were you thinking? You’re invisible girl? You’ve been putting yourself in danger!” He said, in rapid fire. He was not holding you by the shoulders and looking at you. You simply replied by hugging him back, nestling your head into his chest.

You could’ve just died.

He hugged you back and you stayed like that for a couple of moments until-

“A-hem”

Forgetting Iron Man’s presence, you split apart and turned towards the floating red suit. You knew that Peter had to talk to him alone, so you turned away and sat on one of the swings on the farther end of the playground. 

Surely, it was Mr. Stark who was mentoring Peter. After all, every time Spidey would come up, Peter would be at the “Stark Internship”. You hadn’t realized but you’d started crying.

You nearly just died. So did Peter. If Peter had died saving you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. Trapping yourself in that van was such a stupid idea. What were you thinking.

You cried into your palms, the cold biting you, and your hair surrounding you. It was then that you heard Mr. Stark softly finish with, “Go take care of your girlfriend,” before blasting off.

“Y/N?” You looked up at Peter with red, tired eyes. Peter’s suit looked completely dry at this point. He pulled you into another hug, suddenly making you feel his warmth.

“You could’ve died. Y/N- I- I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died,” He played with your hair, and whispered this out softly. You hugged him tighter, scared that you’d lose him.

“I know Pete, I know,” You mumbled.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, his brown ones filled with genuine worry for you. That’s when you noticed he was crying. Even before, when he didn’t know your hidden identity, he’d been scared of your death. But now, now he knew that it was his best friend, you, so close to dying.

He wasn’t just scared of the thought of your death, it broke him apart.

While he was looking down at you, just as you’d noticed his tears, he’d realized he’d loved you. More than Liz. More than saving people. He loved everything about you. He loved how you’d been there for him through everything. He loved how kind and caring you were. He loved your snarky sense of humor. He loved you.

So there, under the light of the moon that night. Two best friends who fell hard for each other, looked into each other’s eyes. Leaning closer and closer to each other, and kissed.

yIkES. idk how to feel about this because i sUCk and kinda rushed this! aNywHOooOo sorry it’s so late omg. it’s not good enough for it to be this late YOKES. thanks for reading! feedback is appreciated & encouraged! x

tags: @holywinchesterness + @lunastarwatcher + @booya–18 + @caitsymichelle13 + @parker—peter + @sylviestars + @captainsherlockwinchester110283 + @rosaetum + @slythergirlimagines + @lionfart + @africanqueen2002 + @5-seconds-of-sarcasmm + @peter-pan-hoe love y’all  ♡

[stressedoutteenager]

Distracted

I watched this video on YouTube and immediately wanted to write this. 

„I tried kidnapping my friend 3 times”

“Are you for real?”, Yousef asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

Elias nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Dude, I saw that on YouTube and thought we could do that too!”, Elias thinks for a second, “We would of course say that this was not our idea and give credit and so on but I want to do this.”

Yousef shakes his head at his best friend. That’s an interesting idea to be honest. He hasn’t seen the video Elias is talking about but seeing Elias so excited about this video idea makes him want to agree immediately. Also, Yousef is very aware that the camera is on and already filming Elias and him.

“But what exactly would I need to do?”, Yousef asks before agreeing.

Elias sees the interest in the eyes of his best friend and gets even more excited. This would be a project he would have to plan out stuff for and he loves doing that kind of things.

Scooting to the edge of the couch Elias starts explaining: “Okay, kidnapping in this case really just means taking you to another room without you wanting that. So I could surprise you here in the living room and get you to the kitchen and that would be a win for me.  All you have to do is try to not get kidnapped by me. I have a week to accomplish ‘kidnapping’ at least once. Could be more though.”

Yousef tilts his head slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. He has to admit, it sounds like fun but he still isn’t completely sure what he would get himself into.

“And how exactly would you be kidnapping me?”, Yousef asks, suspiciously.

Elias laughs and looks directly into the camera and rolls his eyes. Then he looks back at his best friend and shrugs: “It wouldn’t be challenging at all for you if you knew, would it?”

“But, I need you to agree to this. Otherwise I’m obviously not going to do this.”, Elias clarifies.

“What about Mikael, Mutta and Adam?”

Elias explains his thoughts on doing this video: “I figured it would be too much if we had to be suspicious of everything all of us do. So the two of us will start and then Mutta and Even. And then Mikael and Adam.”

Yousef knew that he would agree to do this as soon as Elias told him about it but now he is sold. This will be a fun week, he is sure of that. He looks straight into the camera and smirks.

“Let’s do this.”

-

What Yousef didn’t expect was that he would be wary of everything anyone close to Elias says or does. After the Sunday Elias explained the rules to Yousef, they decided to start the game on the following day. On Yousef’s free day.  The day that the boys usually use to shoot a more elaborate video. However, on this particular Monday Yousef doesn’t trust the messages of Elias in the private chat.

Elias texts him: We’re meeting at the gym before shooting the video at mine, right?

Yousef texts into the group chat with the boys: You all are coming to the gym before shooting the video?

Adam answers: Nah I’m still in bed

Mikael: I’m not ready to leave the house yet

Mutta: I’m at my grandma’s so no

That’s when Yousef grins to himself, knowing that he outsmarted Elias. Whatever Elias had planned to kidnap Yousef, he probably wanted to do it then. At the Gym. Yousef still has no idea how Elias would pull that off. It’s not like Elias could just pick Yousef up and carry him to the next room. But Yousef is not going to take his chances.

With a smug smile Yousef snapchats Elias saying: “You should brief the boys before trying to lure me out alone!”

But then the times come for them to film that video they had been planning. It’s a video that also involves Sana. So there is no way Yousef is missing that chance. However, he also doesn’t want to lose the challenge on the first day. That’s why Yousef is the last one to arrive at the Bakkoush house, when it’s usually him that is there first.

Yousef rings the bell and takes a step back. The uncertainty of how Elias might want to ‘kidnap’ him makes Yousef jumpy. Even when he was walking over to his house he kept looking left and right to make sure Elias is not waiting somewhere around the corner. Yousef maybe shouldn’t have watched the video Elias got this idea from. On the other hand, if he didn’t he wouldn’t be prepared for anything.

Sana is the one to open the door and as soon as Yousef’s eyes land on her, all his guards crumble. He sees her smile at him, showing her dimples and he returns a smile of his own. She’s beautiful as ever and he has to press his lips together to not smile too much. Putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket Yousef tries to look less nervous. Whenever he is around Sana he gets nervous. A good kind of nervous. The kind that gives you butterflies in your stomach, makes you stumble over your words or act too impulsively.

“Don’t you want to come in?”, Sana asks, opening the door a little wider and stepping aside.

Yousef steps in and takes his shoes off. While he does that Sana comments, a little unsure if she should say that and how that would sound but deciding to act as confident as she usually is: “The other guys are already in the living room. Usually you’re the first one here.”

For a second Yousef stops in his tracks, before turning around to face her, and smiles. Does this mean she is paying attention to when he is coming here? They’ve been texting quite a bit lately but mostly just sending memes back and forth and making sure the other is doing good. Yousef tries to collect himself before facing her.

“I didn’t want to come.”, Yousef says, without thinking it through.

Only when Sana’s smile falters for a very short moment Yousef understands how that sounded.

Sana wonders if he didn’t want to come because of her. This is the first video she will be part of in a long time. And all the other times the boys film a YouTube video, Yousef is the first one to arrive at her house (the times she is no part of any of it).

Yousef suddenly panics. Why does he say stuff like that? He fumbles for words and finally says: “No, no. I meant … just because … I like coming here.”

That last sentence has a distinctive undertone. Additionally to the pointed look he gives Sana. With pleading eyes, hoping she understands.

And when he looks at her like that Sana melts instantly. She has no idea what he means but those eyes make her want to believe everything.

“That game Elias and I are playing this week makes me jumpy and I’m very suspicious of everything.”, Yousef says, chuckling.

But Sana just furrows her eyebrows in confusion. Once again, she doesn’t understand what he is talking about. Right when she is about to ask him to explain, they hear a third voice. It’s Elias’.

“Sis, I’ll explain when you get to the living room. Now, please!”

-

“So that’s why I am sitting at my usual spot and Yousef is sitting over there, at the edge of the couch.”, Elias says, looking straight at the camera.

They are all positioned somewhere on the couch or the floor in front of it. Mikael, Mutta, Adam and Yousef are on the couch. And Sana and her brother are sitting on the floor in front of it. Elias just explained to Sana, and their subscribers that will watch this video before the one about the ‘kidnapping’, why Yousef chose to sit as close to the door as possible and not next to Elias as usual. Adam thought it would be a great sneak peek if they talked a bit about the next video in this one.

“But instead I have someone way better sitting next to me. My amazing little sister.”, Elias says, and hugging Sana to his side. She scrunches up her nose but lets him.

Elias looks up at his best friend and says: “Sorry, bro.”

Adam comments: “Yousef, you’ve already been replaced. What a shame.”

Yousef’s eyes wander over to Sana and at the same time she turns to look at him too. Their eyes meet for a moment and Yousef can barely drag his eyes away from her.

“Completely understandable.”

-

Yousef knew he was right. He should’ve listened to his gut feeling. No, but here he is.

The video idea for today was a music challenge. They would be assigned, ‘randomly’, into pairs. In those pairs they had to play each other snippets of songs they thought the other would not know.

First it was Elias and Adam. Then Yousef could relax. Elias was busy and couldn’t do anything to him.

Then it was Yousef and Sana.

Both of them tried to keep their cool, to not show how excited and happy they were about that random pairing. Both of them failed but they didn’t know that.

Well, Elias had predicted that before. So he planned something. Elias knew he would not have been able to get Yousef from one room to another on his own if he didn’t cooperate. That’s why he had to consult others.

Mikael and Adam. Mutta wouldn’t help, trying to make it seem like he didn’t want to be a part of this, but Elias knows that Yousef had asked him before and that Mutta is on Yousef’s side. The plan is easy. When Yousef is too distracted, has let his guards down, Elias will give the boys a sign and two of them will go to grab Yousef. Adam his legs and Elias his upper body. It’s just a few steps to the kitchen. It should be easy. And Mikael will film all of it.

And Yousef plays his part in all of this really well, not knowing he does so.

When it’s Sana’s turn to play a short snippet of a song it’s already like the two of them are in their own little bubble already. And they really don’t realize it.

“I was born like this, since one like this Immaculate conception I transform like this, perform like this Was Yeshua's new weapon”

Sana waits for Yousef to say something but all he does is scrunching his nose up in concentration. Sana laughs about that which makes him look at her, his facial expression softening immediately.

“Can you play a little more?”, Yousef asks her.

Shaking her head, Sana chuckles. “No,  if you don’t know it you don’t know it.”

“But I might get it if you play a little more.”, Yousef tries to argue but all he really wants is for Sana laugh like a second ago. Showing her dimples and her eyes crinkling lightly.

When she laughs, shaking her head once more, Yousef laughs too but asks for her to at least repeat the short snippet again. She agrees and this time he listens really closely. He should know some of Sana’s favorite songs. While listening, he looks at Sana and she keeps looking back at him again.

“Do you know it?”, Sana asks, when she stops the song again. She tilts her head lightly and watches Yousef’s reaction. He obviously doesn’t but he also doesn’t want to admit that for whatever reason.

“If you only played a littl…”, Yousef begins to say but suddenly feels arms around his torso.

While he was so concentrated on Sana, neither of the two realized that Elias gave the other boys a sign. A sign that neither Mutta or Sana knew about. Just Adam, Mikael and of course Elias.

“What? Guys..”, is all Yousef can exclaim before he is set down in the kitchen. He is too surprised.

How did he not see that coming? Yousef can’t believe he lost on the first day. In shock that that really happened Yousef looks around the room, opening his mouth and closing it again because he doesn’t know what to say.

Elias on the contrary knows exactly what he wants to say. He gets close to Mikael, who is filming the situation with his phone, and exclaims: “I won!”, looking back at Yousef he adds, “It was almost too easy but there’s still a week ahead that I can use to ‘kidnap’ him again.”

Mutta sends Yousef an apologetic look, he couldn’t prevent that from happening this time. Yousef just shrugs and smiles at him.

Sana is the last one to arrive in the kitchen but she stops to stand next to Yousef.

“Sorry that you didn’t win.”, Sana says, still watching her brother do some kind of victory dance, “At least for now.”

Yousef looks at Sana and chuckles. She rolls her eyes at her brother but still looks amused. She was not aware of her brother’s plans, that’s obvious. “It’s fine, really. There’s still a week ahead of us.”

Sana looks up at Yousef, the first time since she arrived in the kitchen, and smiles a little.