#he likes the blues influence in the songs i played him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanteguccir · 7 months

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── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Since the pandemic, tiktok has become one of the most used social media in the whole world, thousands of people download it every day and thousands more create content daily or, sometimes, just post a video that explodes in views, many of them starting a career with it, or creating a hobby from it.

And that's what happened in Y/N's life. She was still finishing high school when she posted her first video on the app, not expecting it to get more than 10 likes.

She was at the triplets' house, still in Boston, watching a movie with her boyfriend, when that same video exploded, reaching more than 300 thousand views and 150 thousand likes.

So, while Matt, Nick, and Chris were starting their careers on their new YouTube channel, Y/N was starting hers on TikTok.

Fans loved the fact that Chris's girlfriend had a TikTok account and posted regularly, after all, she lived with him in LA, which meant that the fandom had content of her and him together almost weekly.

Y/N was the typical influencer who participated in all the trends that interested her, from dancing or singing famous songs to recording herself cooking different recipes.

But the ones she loved most were the couple trends, and it was nothing that a few minutes of begging Chris to do them with her couldn't convince him.

Secretly, the boy loved making that mini videos for TikTok with Y/N; he adored showing that he was hers, how much he loved her, and how obsessed he was with her.

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Chris positioned Y/N's phone on top of his computer desk, the device resting on his laptop with the screen facing forward, the TikTok camera already open, and with the audio already selected.

The boy took his Prada wallet from the back pocket of his baggy jeans, leaving it ready in his hand, hiding it behind his back.

His blue eyes glanced briefly at Y/N, who was on his right side and out of the camera's frame, a smile on her face as she admired him, waiting for the recording to begin.

He extended his right arm, clicking the red button in the bottom center of the screen. The melody of the chorus of Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast in America by Gym Glass Heroes began to play.

"Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like"

Chris removed his hand that was hidden behind his back, showing the black wallet and opening it, holding it on the left side so that the right side was exposed to the camera, the transparent plastic holding a small picture of Y/N. His face appeared on the right side of the screen, a sideways smile decorating his face.

The girl was lying on Chris's chest in the picture, probably in their bed, the room was dark and the camera's flash completely illuminated her face, a big smile adorned her features along with her closed eyes.

Chris brought his wallet closer to the phone's front camera, holding it there for a few seconds before lifting it slowly and lowering it quickly while moving slightly to the right side.

"Take a look at my girlfriend"

Y/N's figure appeared where the wallet was, wearing a pink set from Fresh Love, a soft smile on her face as her eyes focused on Chris, a passionate glow in them.

"She's the only one I got (ba-ba-da-da)"

Chris returned the smile, placing his wallet on the desk and pulling his girlfriend's body against his, filling her face and neck with kisses. Y/N, throwing her head back with her mouth open in silent laughter, was the last image the camera captured before the tiktok ended.

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Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of the triplets' car, which she asked Matt to borrow the keys so she could go out to lunch with Chris.

She lowered the device's screen brightness, leaving it at minimum so that Chris wouldn't see the TikTok camera opened. Her eyes quickly went to her boyfriend next to her, seeing him scrolling through his own cell, probably looking for a nice restaurant for them to eat at, as Y/N had asked him to do.

She quickly clicked the red record button at the bottom of the screen, smiling briefly at it, an amused gleam in her eyes.

"There's this Osteria Mozza that looks cool. It's Italian, just how you like it." Chris commented, his eyes still focused on his own phone screen as he read the restaurant's reviews.

"Great, I feel like eating pasta." Y/N nodded quickly. "Let me just touch up my lip gloss real quick." She asked, turning her body sideways and reaching over to the seat where Nick normally sits, grabbing her purse.

She pulled it forward, slamming the side of it against the back of Chris' head, before placing it on her lap.

"Ouch, fuck! What was that for?" Chris's voice was high pitched due to the surprise of the impact, his cap almost falling off his head as his right hand left his phone and went to his hair, fixing the piece there while he looked exasperatedly at his girlfriend, his blue eyes wide.

The girl pressed her lips together as she tried to hold back her laughter, clearing her throat momentarily. She opened her purse and took out her Dior lip gloss.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't even notice. Are you okay?" Y/N glanced at him quickly, her brow furrowed in false concern.

"Yes, just be careful next time." Chris asked, removing his hand from his cap before turning his attention back to his phone.

Y/N closed the zipper after reapplying her lip gloss, anticipating her boyfriend's final reaction before turning her body again, raising her arm and taking the purse to the backseat, slamming it into Chris again, this time hitting his nose.

"Babe! What the fuck?" He frowned, turning abruptly to her as he brought his hand up to his nose, rubbing the area. "What the hell are you doing?"

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, her mouth falling open as a laugh escaped freely, her head falling back. Chris watched her as if she were crazy, the beginning of a smile appearing on his lips, his blue eyes running over her expressions.

"I'm sorry baby, it was for a tiktok. You're so funny." She said amidst laughter, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.

Chris rolled his eyes, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached for the device. He widened his eyes at the camera playfully before clicking the red button again, stopping the recording.

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Y/N took advantage of the fact that Chris was still brushing his teeth in the bathroom of their bedroom to position her phone on the nightstand on her side of the bed, the front camera capturing an entire side of the room.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to contain her laughter in anticipation as she grabbed her pillow and blanket from the bed, gathering them both under her arm.

"Chris, I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Y/N spoke out loud, intending for the boy to hear her.

And he did, lifting his head abruptly and turning his body completely towards her, his toothbrush in hand and toothpaste on his lips.

"What?" His voice was muffled by his full mouth, his eyes wide as he watched her in surprise.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch today." She repeated, looking directly at him this time, making sure her body wasn't in full view of the camera or cutting into Chris's image.

"What? Why?" Chris asked again, a thread of sadness crossing his blue eyes as his brow furrowed, his mind working hard to try to understand what he had done wrong. A pain took over Y/N's heart, wanting to give up on the idea right then and there.

"I'm going to sleep in the living room, on the couch." Y/N spoke one last time, turning around and walking towards the bedroom door, in order to open it, but her action was stopped by the brunette, who spat the paste in his mouth into the sink and dropped the brush, running towards the girl.

"Wait, you sleep on the bed, and I sleep on the floor above a blanket or something, and tomorrow morning, we'll talk about it. Just don't let me sleep alone." He asked in a desperate tone, taking her arm and pulling her close, wanting to hug her and apologize for whatever he had done, even without knowing what it was.

Y/N looked into Chris' eyes, her own wide in surprise. She didn't expect that.

"Oh my baby, no! It's a prank, just a tiktok trend." The girl explained quickly, pointing briefly to the phone still recording before pulling Chris into her arms, feeling her eyes filling with tears and her heart warming with love.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Nick, this is not that difficult. They only have two types: pink and purple, I want the pink one! Are you dumb?" Chris was talking loudly, his phone pressed on his ear as he was on a call with his brother, having asked Nick to buy a specific candy he knew Y/N liked on his quick trip to Target.

Y/N walked towards him with her own phone in hand already recording, the rear camera facing Chris, who was sitting on their bed with his back against the headboard, the blanket covering half of his body as the sound of a random series came out of the television.

The girl was only wearing small cycling black shorts and a Chris t-shirt that was huge on her body, covering her bra-free boobs.

She walked closer as she watched her boyfriend fight with his brother, a look of boredom in his eyes that quickly met hers, a small smile appearing on his face as he sent her a wink.

Y/N smiled back before stopping her steps, her free hand going to the hem of her - his - t-shirt and pulling it up a second later, exposing her boobs to Chris.

His blue eyes widened in a matter of seconds, his mouth opening into a perfect O. Nick's voice sounded shouting from the other side, demanding that Chris responded, but to his ears, everything seemed to have gone silent.

"Nick, buy anything, you name it. I need to take care of one thing right now, I mean, two." The brunette spoke weakly into his phone, lowering the device and clicking the red button to hang up the call without even looking at it, completely ignoring Nick's voice on the other end.

The girl let out a laugh, the image of Chris standing up abruptly and pulling Y/N against his body being the last thing captured on camera, before the tiktok ended.

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withleeknow · 4 months

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somewhere only we know.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want) genre/warnings: established relationship, (tooth-rotting??) fluff, half a second of angst if you squint; this is pretty self-indulgent and also i just randomly wanted to write it this way. kinda similar to this but not really word count: 0.6k note: again, imagine whoever you want! mimo is on the cover just for illustrative purposes and also he's my guy so what did you expect from me lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

the waterfront on the tail end of a sunset walk. your hand tightly intertwined with his. sharing strawberry tanghulu and tasting the fruity sweetness on each other's lips. neighborhood children rushing by in a hurry to make it home for dinner. 7:12pm, his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm as dark blue begins its descent for the evening. the wind and her gentle kisses upon your hair. you stop to take a picture of the sunset but he stops to take a picture of you. a rose-colored blush when he tells you you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. love, love, love. him, the stars shining in his eyes before they have to come out and paint the sky. mismatched footsteps and twin smiles.

the middle of your apartment's entryway, not even making it into the living room. your arms around his neck, his hands on your waist and in your hair. a long trip coming to a stop, a big suitcase abandoned by the door. the scent of his familiar cologne that you've yearned to touch for weeks now. 1:19am, wide awake. somewhere in the world, iris by goo goo dolls is playing on repeat. i missed you's and i love you's and fresh tears. feeling like you could hold him like this for hours until the darkness outside falls away. no more facetiming with seas of distance between you. chests pressed tightly together, no space, all love. sweet nothings whispered right next to your ear. home is where the heart is, and your heart is home.

the park five minutes away from his parents' house. your head on his chest, both of you on a large picnic blanket laid out on green, green grass. his heartbeat under your palm, your mind somewhere up there among the clouds. sleepy and lax under the influence of the sun. 3:29pm, an iced matcha latte and a slice of lemon cheesecake sound absolutely divine right about now. there's an urge to voice that thought, but you know neither of you can be bothered to move. his lips pressed against your forehead, then a tender "i could stay like this forever."

the convenience store just around the corner. a spontaneous snack run in the middle of the night because you were craving sweets. empty streets but your hearts are full hearts. the cashier's ringtone is a song that you both hate. 12:22am, no worries in your head. tomorrow is still the weekend. banana milks and chocolate ice cream. he falls for you all over again when you aren't looking, and tells you "nothing," with a coy smile when you ask why he's staring. time works differently at night, almost like it doesn't seem to pass at all. there's no logical explanation to why you feel like you're on top of the world at midnight in sweatpants; maybe it's just being with him, maybe it's just being in love.

your favorite bar on a rainy evening. the argument was stupid, but it was heated enough for you to storm out. only red on your mind; forgotten weather forecasts and forgotten umbrellas. stubborn and angry and alone. the fight was your fault anyway. 8:18pm, a bottle of soju for company. ignoring his calls and texts when your phone lights up with his name. heavy raindrops loud enough to hear from inside your shelter, heavier heart. the way his face fell when you said what you didn't mean. why did you say that? forty five minutes and the bottle is almost empty. far too tipsy to pay attention to the chime of the bell by the door, but sober enough to recognize his presence when he sits down next to you. his rain-dampened hair and your fragile, wounded pride. the apologies are quiet, uttered into the space between the two of you, only for his ears. forgiveness in the form of gentle fingers holding your own. "it's getting cold," he says. "let's go home."

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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spamgyu · 5 months

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hell n back // vernon drabble

it was rare for him to have a day off, even rare for it to fall on the same as yours.

the two of you had decided that the best way to make use of this once in blue moon event was to lounge about in your shared apartment – enjoying one another's company before he is forced to go back to his tireless schedule.

you watched as your boyfriend fiddled with the sound system at the corner of the living room – mumbling something about wanting to play you his new favorite song. you always did admire his love for music, the two of you using this shared interest to naturally govern most of your conversations.

there was evidence of this throughout your apartment; the main one being a wall of vinyl record covers from both past and present hip-hop artists you two enjoyed listening to. right below this display was a large mid-century modern wooden console; holding your boyfriend's prized possessions.

a turn table and radio system.

it wasn't long before the sound of the artist whistling blared through the speakers; vernon turning to you with a large grin on his face.

"come here." he held his hand out for you to take.

laughing, you set your phone down to accept his offer – allowing for him to take lead and sway along with the beat.

"could you tell where my head was at when you found me? me and you went to hell and back just to find peace" he sang along with the artist, bouncing to the trumpet that played. "the lyrics– it reminds me of us."

you listened closely to the words being played, allowing it to transport you back in time to when you had first met him. both of you weren't at your lowest, but you two were definitely not at your best – simply cruising through life with the intent to survive.

before him, you had gone through a list of men who had broken your heart – giving up on love itself.

and he was the same.

people did say that the best kind of love was found when you weren't searching for it – scoffing at the idea until you met him.

it came so naturally; meeting vernon had possibly been one of the best things to happen to your life and he could say the same.

he had no intentions of starting a relationship when he had been introduced to you through a mutual friend, but by the end of the night, vernon couldn't get enough.

hell, half way through hearing you rant talk about pharrell's influence in the music industry – he had been sold.

vernon wasn't the type to ask someone on a date the same day he had met them; it was as if you had put him under a spell and he hadn't been able to shake it off since.

if soulmates were real, vernon had found his – you.

"oh, but I'm here now baby. no life been lifin' lately, so I save you if you save me. i was over love, I had enough, then I found you." now it was your turn to sing along, catching him by surprise.

"so you know the song?" he gasped.

"i was the one that showed it to you." you laughed.

"hm..." his bottom lip jutted out, as he tried to sift through his memories.

"four months ago– i sent it to you."

he was overseas at the time, attending some award show; if you recalled correctly.

"baby give this song a listen [spotify link]"

halting your movements, vernon slapped his hand on his forehead – he remembers. "ah shit..."

"it's okay." you shrugged, walking over to the couch as the song wrapped up.

"brain fog has been so bad lately." he sighed, plopping down next to you. "i hate it."

with his nonstop work schedule, it was no surprise that he had seemed to be forgetting quite a few things – but you paid no mind to it. it came with the title of being the girlfriend of one of the members of one of the most popular k-pop group.

it was minor details anyways, and he's human after all.

"do you at least remember me?" you teased.

squinting, vernon played along with the bit – tilting his head to the side. "looking like my future girlfriend."

you pursed your lips. "that's crazy, because i'm taken."

"leave him." vernon leaned closer.

"nah," you shook your head before leaning in as well, allowing for your lips to brush against his briefly. "he's a catch."

"doubt it." vernon snorted.

"he is! he's got this stupid smile, always tells the dumbest jokes, makes the best burnt grilled cheese–" you listed.

"ah! you said you liked it crispy!" he cried, earning a laugh from you.

"that's called softening the blow."

"can't catch a fucking break." he groaned, slouching in his position.

to anyone, this sense of domestication would be boring, but such mundane acts couldn't help but warm your heart.

he wasn't the performer you would watch from your seat, the guy who you watched on your phone screen – he was your boyfriend, the man who you swore you would spend the rest of your life with.

he was a silly boy, making silly jokes – letting you in on the personality that he hid away from many.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy

@yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult

@alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu

@bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx

@daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed

@joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv

@yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose

@wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell

@raginghellfire @kriizztin @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @porridgesblog @bbysnw

@squashcolouredskies @viewvuu @black-swan-blog27 @got7svt6

#as promised i'll be slowly posting the fluff drafts i have been hoarding #this is a little treat since i have been so mia #vernon drabble #vernon x yn #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #seventeen fic

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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imagine eddie is the lead singer of corroded coffin but his natural singing voice is naturally like josh kiszka's from greta van fleet

it hurts his throat a lot to try and sing in the loud, hoarse, raspy screams he feels like he should be, being a metal band and all, so one of the nights at the hideout he's like "Okay, this is kinda different from what we try to play, but shit's killing my throat so here's this instead."

his 'real' singing voice wakes up those 5 drunk regulars and the next week they bring more people (and so did eddie apparently, because he can see steve, robin, and nancy grinning up at him from the crowd).

the boys play one of their own scream-y more traditional metal songs, then another, then when they try to close with a cover, one of the regulars yells out "Play that highway one again!"

"…The what?"

"That shit you played last week, the one about a highway girl!"

Eddie looks around at his bandmates, who look just as confused as he feels.

"This one..?" he plays the first notes, and that one regular and a couple others whoop and holler.

"Hell yeah, play that one again!"

"Uh…yeah, sure man, you got it.." Eddie shrugs nonchalant, but damn! he wants to show off for his friends! that shit last week was a fluke, one of his own songs he was sure the other guys didn't want to play in the first place.

he glances around at his bandmates and they all look shocked but delighted at the request, so they play it again (after an unneeded apologetic look from eddie, they really like eddie's song!).

when they finish, the now 10 people in the bar cheer and hoot and holler, and when they make their way off the stage, there are a couple people who stop them with "That was really good, do you have any more like that?", "Never heard nothin' like that before, you kids got somethin' special.", and "Y'all better be back next week, 'cause I sure will be." from the patrons, and a harried, ecstatic "Dude, please tell me you have more," from Jeff.

and also something about how since that night all of steve's thoughts are consumed completely by eddie's voice because "Holy shit did you hear him, Robin??"

idk, just eddie being a songwriter that can't help but get his influences from his uncle's preference for blues and folk music when writing and then again, can't help but mix it with his love of hard/classic rock but him never using any of it or even suggesting it to the other guys because it wasn't corroded coffin's and wasn't metal but that being exactly what shoots them into stardom

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hotreadingwitch · 1 year

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Bucky x Reader - Drunk in Love

Content Warnings/Kinks: alcohol, grinding, spitting, hair pulling, choking, dominance, daddy kink, praise kink, cum swallowing, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex

Drunk in Love

Y/n sat in an armchair in the common room of the Avengers compound. She'd spent the evening sharing multiple bottles with her best friend, Bucky Barnes. Little did he know she had a huge crush on him.

A song then came on that made Y/n want to dance. Usually, she wouldn't have been so bold, but due to the alcohol's strong influence, she got up and began to shake her hips anyway. Not the type to dance, Bucky sat his legs spread, hungrily watching Y/n's every move.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/n questioned coyly, a drunken smile spreading across her lips.

"You know why Y/n" Bucky retorted in a husky tone.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow before slowly sauntering over to Bucky and straddling him. Continuing to the beat of the music Y/n began to grind herself on him. He watched her as if hypnotized. Bucky gripped her hips with his strong hands, pulling her further down onto him. She threw her head back in pleasure as she kept grinding. Bucky then leaned forward and began sucking on her neck causing her to whimper.

"Don't tease me like that Y/n" he growled, turned on by her sounds.

Y/n ignored him, her breathing hard.

Suddenly, Bucky gripped Y/n's hair in one hand and circled the other around her throat.

"I said don't tease me," he said darkly before spitting into her open mouth, "Got it?"

"You're sure you don't like to be teased, Buck?" Y/n returned, getting up off his lap causing him to groan, as if disgruntled by the loss of contact.

She then began to strip until she was standing bare in front of him, "Because I think you do"

Bucky bit his lip, a low rumble escaping his throat as he surveyed her naked body. His eyes flitted up and down like he couldn't decide what to focus his hungry gaze on.

"You wanna play doll?" He said gruffly, "Then come here and put that pretty little mouth to good use".

"Yes Bucky" Y/n responded to his command instantly.

"That's 'yes Daddy' to you" he growled again.

Y/n nodded slowly, taking in his seductive words as she sunk to her knees in front of him. She caressed the hard spot in his jeans before unzipping his jeans and removing his cock from the fabric that it was straining against. He smirked, looking down at her and enjoying her shocked reaction to his size. She began first by licking up and down his shaft, wetting it all with the tip of her tongue. Then, Y/n took the top half of his long length into her mouth and started to suck. She continued, each stroke taking in more and more of him, earning groans of pleasure from him.

"You're doing such a good job," he praised, stroking her cheek with his cool metal hand.

She then added her hands, using them to glide up and down the bottom half of his shaft, gripping it. Soon, his chest was heaving and she could feel him throbbing in her mouth. Y/n moaned, savouring that familiar salty taste.

Y/n yelped as Bucky's strong hands gripped her, pulling her up off of her knees and onto the couch's comfortable cushions.

"Can I eat you out now doll? He questioned, still out of breath.

"Yes please, Daddy" she practically writhed under his heated stare.

Bucky slunk down her frame without breaking eye contact and positioned himself in front of her already wet pussy.

"What are you doing?" Y/n whined as she waited for Bucky to start, sliding her hands into his cropped hair, desperate for him to please her.

"I want to hear you beg for it," he said plainly, his lust clear in his blue eyes.

His hot breath on her pussy made her squirm in anticipation

"Please, please Daddy" she begged, blush tinging her cheeks before whispering "You know I want you so bad"

"Hmm, I guess I have to give it to you then huh?"

"Please" she continued, throwing her head back in frustration.

He then began sucking on her clit, making her spread her legs open instinctively to give him easier access.

"Ahh" Y/n whimpered, the initial sensitivity making her shiver.

He circled his tongue around her, making that part of her grow tenser and tenser with each lick. He then switched methods, flicking his tongue up and down between gentle kisses on her clit. Her sensitivity was through the roof as he pleased her causing her pussy to clench.

"Oh uh-huh" she moaned as the feeling started to build.

Bucky continued tickling her with his tongue before sliding two vibranium fingers into her. They curled up towards her belly as he continued, now sucking roughly on her clit. The combination made her begin to tense up even more in anticipation, her stomach becoming taut and hard to the touch.

"Fuck you feel so good" Y/n gasped as Bucky kept pumping in and out of her, looking down at him in admiration.

Soon, Bucky sensed that she was about to burst.

"That's right doll" he encouraged between licks, "Cum for me"

As if he was commanding her, Y/n's body began to shake, overwhelmed by waves of pleasure. She jerked up and down, grinding on his mouth as she came, chasing the feeling until it was over.

"Ohh oh"

She looked down, both out of breath and thoroughly satisfied, to see his chin coated with her sticky substance which he licked up gratefully. Y/n turned around and motioned for Bucky to enter her from behind. Even though she'd just cum she was ready to beg for more if necessary.

"So desperate for me doll" he whispered in her ear before sliding in.

He thrust inside, pumping slowly at first before speeding up to an incredibly satisfying tempo. The force of him pounding into her was enough to make her legs shake slightly. Y/n shoved her face into a pillow to stop herself from being too loud.

"C'mon baby, let me hear you" Bucky grunted, tangling his fingers in her hair, making her back arch.

"Yes D-Daddy" she moaned aloud, her words stuttering due to the incredible pleasure she was feeling.

Bucky continued to pound into her, thrusting on beat with the music that was still playing in the compound. Y/n reached down and began to rub her clit. The combination of Bucky fucking her and her playing with the sensitive area was exactly what she needed. As they continued Y/n's pussy started to tense up around Bucky's thrusting cock, pleasing both of them.

"Just like that doll", he grunted, his hand gripping her from underneath, keeping her supported, "Keep being good for me".

It was clear both of them were close to their climaxes, Bucky was thrusting harder than ever and Y/n's insides were beginning to get warmer and warmer in anticipation of her orgasm.

"Fuck" Y/n screamed, then whimpering "I'm gonna cum".

"Beg for it doll" Bucky commanded, gripping her by the throat.

"Please let me cum Daddy, please"

"Good girl," he said, satisfied.

He thrust and thrust and thrust until Y/n was practically shuddering. Bucky then began slowing down his pace to allow for her maximal pleasure while she continued to rub her clit.

"Ohhh" Y/n moaned as waves of heat began to overwhelm her body.

Bucky grunted, cursing too as he came inside her, pushed over the edge by the feeling of her throbbing warm, "Fuck, fuck"

Y/n trembled, feeling warm and completely content. Bucky got up and grabbed her a towel, helping her to clean between her legs where their substances coated the area between her thighs.

"Thank you" she mumbled, blissed out.

"You're welcome" Bucky chuckled, looking down at her with a fond smile.

#smut #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel smut #bucky x reader #bucky smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky #marvel fanfic #marvel #the avengers #winter soldier #winter solider x reader #winter solider smut

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ataraxiaspainting · 9 months

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It's Cold Outside.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: A stranger has weaseled his way into every aspect of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con/dub-con (the reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs but non-consensually), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, threats of violence, stalking, manipulation, Chrollo the Creepster, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

(You’re The) Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley

Salvatore by Lana Del Ray

Who Is She? by I Monster

Kiss Of Fire by Georgia Gibbs

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

4:00A.M. by Taeko Onuki

How I’d Kill by Cowboy Malfoy

Sonne by Rammstein

The Great Gig in the Sky by Pink Floyd

“I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea.” — Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground

*~*~*~*

i. “Technicolor worlds with white clouds are bound to be destroyed by silver snow.”

When you step into your house, it is like you are instantly transported back to a year ago. Everything in sight, from the walls to the shelves, has decorations of some kind, whether going all out with the kitchen table having an entire feast of delicious holiday treats made by your grandparents, or just a green and red painting of a Christmas tree placed in your older sister’s usually monochromatic room. Perhaps the painting is yet another way she proves that she can somewhat react well to requests to change her room a little bit. Even if the painting is on the farthest wall from the door and is partially hidden from view by the many anime figurines and books larger than your head. Your mother claims that it is a miracle she convinced her to put up any holiday decorations in her room at all and thus doesn’t bother her further.

Each room also has a different festive scent, your younger sister’s room having a hot chocolate scent mixed with the smell of piled up dishes on her desk, most coming from when she was ‘helping’ your grandparents cook by ‘testing to make sure the food isn't poison’.

How heroic of her to sacrifice herself for the family.

Your room, you think, looks much better than your sisters’ combined, having decked it out to the maximum by taking out all of your Halloween decorations and replacing them with Christmas ones. It took you the whole weekend, sure, and caused you to break the bank, but your love for accessories outweighs your logic and reason by quite a lot. Your beloved record player is back on your table that also simultaneously houses your television and jewelry playing Elvis Presley’s Blue Christmas. A wreath larger than your torso is on your door and your room smells like all the holiday air fresheners you found in your closet. Pine, peppermint, orange, lemon, cranberry… all mix to make a beautiful festive scent unmatched by even your parents’ bedroom. Everything is how it should be, and how it always is every year.

Well, almost. A man named Chrollo, a man who gives you anything but comfort, has been invited to your family-only yearly Christmas party. When your father, who has always been too protective of you and your sisters and never lets you spend time with the opposite gender, told you that Chrollo of all people would be attending, you tried to argue otherwise. You tried telling him that none of you had known Chrollo for so long, but he had rebutted Chrollo’s lie that you had known him for over a year with you two developing a close bond. You realized it was too late then, and Chrollo had charmed your entire family, with even your older sister always having a smile on her face whenever she saw him at her workplace.

ii. “Like actors, each snowflake has a different role to play. They sing along with every step of a boot as a deceitful way to express their pain.”

The moment the doorbell chimes, its piercing resonance assaults your eardrums and causes an unsettling shiver to course through your spine.

You find yourself in an unsettling situation as your family eagerly awaits, and to your dismay, you are the designated individual tasked with the responsibility of opening the door. You two are such good friends, aren’t you? We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.

You want to say he is lying, to tell them everything, every threat he has told you, him meaning them or otherwise. But as soon as they know of what Chrollo really and truly is, they will meet a painful end; that being pushed onto train tracks, their drink being laced with a poison that destroys the body from the inside out, or having nails thrusted into their bloody palms as they hang on their bedroom wall as you look in horror. Elton, Anya, and Robert all being examples of such… You don’t want to think of the bodies just waiting to rot around the Riverbend, your fault or otherwise.

You also don’t want to drown in this river. A river inhospitable to any aquatic life whatsoever, and only harbors a barrier of carnivorous plants that eat those who dare come close. Butterworts, large lilac purple ones that feel like they have been dipped in the most tempting butter mixed with forbidden fruit and honey produced by none other than the queen bee herself. Are you the fly, or are they? You have no idea, and you don’t want to find out.

“Hello.” Your response is concise and devoid of warmth, with a noticeable absence of your usual cheerful demeanor evident in your expression and tone.

Chrollo's smile is so sinister that even the most depraved devil's grin would pale in comparison, with all the large gift bags behind him swinging like a tail.

“Ah, [First]. Happy holidays. No need to be so cold, you know. The snow is already doing that for you. So-”

Despite your strong desire to slam the door in his face, you choose to step aside and allow him entry, in an attempt to silence him.

“Put the gifts by the tree by the kitchen table. The white table and not the black one.”

However, rather than fulfilling your expectations, all he does is elicit a burst of laughter so unique that it resonates within you, while discreetly handing over the most colossal gift bag, compelling you to accept it as if under some intangible force.

“Just a little something. I know it’s customary to wait until later but… I simply can’t help myself. Open it whenever you get the chance, dearest.”

…He means right now, in your room, doesn’t he? Perhaps he installed a camera in your room as you slept, he has certainly threatened to do that before. Or maybe he will just spy on you through the little space between the door and the frame. He has done that before, after all.

…

You resisted the urge to scream when you saw a picture of your mother sleeping blissfully, the camera focused on her ring finger with the caption Should I take another souvenir? written on it, but the card, as beautiful as it appeared with a lace envelope and your name written in script on the card’s cover above Chrollo’s, proved to be even more of a challenge. When you read the words on it, your heart plunges so deeply that you fear your gastric acid will erode it.

Save your tears. For even if you cry to the whole world, it will never be enough to make me disappear. Meet me outside in five minutes, and make whatever excuse you deem necessary. No exceptions.

As you begin to read further, a wave of fragrant and delicate floral scents envelops your senses, instantly igniting a warm sensation in your head, leaving no time for contemplation.

Trying to ignore your slight dizziness, you read the rest of the card.

Just a little something to make sure you do this. We wouldn’t want your family to see you in… what state you are about to be in, do we?

…Just what did he do to you?

iii. “With the burden of wintertime ending, nature spends time creating beautiful trees and flowers. To accompany them, she makes twisted vines and weeds, for she knows that without them there cannot be balance or purpose in being comfortably numb.”

You were on your back, on his bed, within what felt like one second, not remembering the car ride over to his place, your wrists pinned beneath the strength of one of Chrollo's hands while he looked down at you within another, his other undoing the tie of the bandana on his forehead and showing you, for the very first time, of the cross tattoo underneath it.

All you can do is watch your whole world slow down and be replaced by a dream.

A blissful and sweet dream, as sugary as saccharine and as dissolvable as cotton candy, that is a veil and covers your eyes from what is happening; until it is too late, until you feel some of his fingers go into the band of your skirt and start pulling and pulling, downward, and that is when terror went to combat with your unwanted lust.

“...What… are… you… doing…? Chroooooo…” Your words slur as your mind buzzes with euphoria, and you can feel every sensation in vivid detail, every touch and every breath feeling heightening and intoxicating. As much as you want to, you can’t tell him to stop, not now.

“Shh, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” At least that is what you think he said, because as Chrollo spoke, you struggled to decipher his words amidst the haze that enveloped your mind. Reality fragments, leaving you unable to muster the strength to plead for him to cease. “It will feel oh so very good, I promise. Very, very nice and very, very good.” With that, you come to realize the wetness between your rubbing thighs, amidst the cloudiness and the larger-than-life headache that rips your skull apart. “Do you trust me?” The voice sounds almost heartfelt, not as intimate as it could be, but it was still more than enough for your hands to cling to him and pull him in closer, faster, so he could relieve you of this hell. “I will assume that that is a yes.” His hands move to the two buttons on your blouse, undoing them with ease, softly, gently, like it was a baby bird.

“Faster… faster…!” You feel like a man who hasn’t seen water on any day of their life, and if you lose the location of the oasis you are sure to never find it again.

Like a man lost in the desert, you choke on imaginary quicksand, soon to drown if water does not save you.

“Aw, such a precious little thing, aren’t you?” You are gently flipped over in an instant and he unbuckles your bra, quickly.

“If you love me… really love me… make me feel better… please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He flips you over again and his fingers lower to your panties, pulling them down from your trembling legs, just like he did with your skirt. “You trust me after all, don’t you?”

You cry out yes after utterly desperate yes, as he watches, his smile getting wider as he starts undoing his belt. He puts a finger on your lips after he has heard enough, shushing you gently.

“Then trust me when I say that this, my dear, is for your own good.”

Beneath the surface, whether it be shallow or not, you have no desire to comprehend his intentions.

You don’t want to know. You just want this to go away.

iv. “Through discoveries, there is a hint of madness that enters our minds. Only then can we see our world’s colors change from squid ink and bone to begonias and finches.”

Chrollo undoes his belt, then his pants, and then his boxers. You focus on his face to ignore what is currently nearly touching the side of the mattress by a hair or two, hard and enlarged and slightly pink and-

He takes off his shirt button after button, much, much, much slower than how he took off the rest of his clothing. There exists a deep-seated anger within you, yet it is accompanied by a sense of gratitude, as both you and he are aware of your mutual aversion towards this situation.

Despite both of you being aware that this is not your desired outcome, he still kisses you, gently, full of warmth, and tenderly. What you truly desire is to satisfy the ache within you. But he won’t give it to you yet, will he?

Time seems to drag on as his kisses get faster, and more hungry, with his tongue essentially becoming another of your muscles, wet, and neither wanted nor unwanted.

Eventually, you get what you want, after enough begging for him to just get it over with. At the beginning, there is a gentle caress resembling a warm and velvety rose petal. However, as time progresses, the touch becomes increasingly forceful until his fingers enter. But it does not hurt. Should you be thankful for that? At least he is being nice.

He starts thrusting, and that also does not hurt. No soreness. You won't feel any discomfort until your eyes meet, causing a sensation that almost makes you want to throw up, were it not for the illicit satisfaction this dreadful encounter brings. It's a peculiar kind of pain, one that lingers like a ghost stealthily gliding through walls, catching you off guard before you can comprehend its presence.

Nothing hurts, and that in of itself gives you the most pain anyone could imagine.

v. “Heat lightning gives way to summer storms and verdant wind. This makes for a hauntingly beautiful melody of ripples and thunder.”

“…And this maiden, she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.”

vi. “The dead, fallen leaves of autumn come in many shades from bright red to a dull brown. They flow with the wind from one place to the next as invitations from those who passed on to the living.”

#TIME TO WRITE SIN..........#(sweats nervously)#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #not sfw #yandere hxh x reader #hxh x reader

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dreammeiser · 6 months

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Is it okay to ask what where the inspiration for the characters of Dream along?

Of course! I'm always dying to talk about their creation and inspiration but worry about getting too wordy/annoying about it, so I hardly talk about it unless asked (please ask me about my brainrot heeheehee). I can only fit so much on an Instagram Story or a Tweet, so I'm glad you asked here. I guess this will be the master reference for them. Sorry in advance that this is wordy!!

I made these characters spanning the past 14-15 years, with their story only being worked on about 10+ years ago, give or take. I will mention that they were made with Earl as a starting point while I was working at the cool puppet place; the show I was interning on wasn't scratching the creative itch I had, so it was recommended to me to make the project that I wish I was working on. :oD

The Muppets, Sesame Street, Osamu Tezuka's works, and Moomin were some animated/puppet media off the top of my head that always stuck with me my whole life and have influenced my retro inspired work the most. They all had such sweetness and charm to them, and all felt like a found family :o) My favorite trope. Puppets were also just deeply meaningful to me because they were physical forms of creativity and childlike wonder you could hold and play with! I thought whenever you made one, you put a little bit of your heart and soul into them.

I wanted the Dreamalong Gang to have the charm of Jim Henson's and Tove Jansson's characters, but I wanted them to have the humor and intrigue of Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, and Welcome to Night Vale. DHMIS and Night Vale actually inspired the story the most because they were both a really nice mix of absurdist humor and horror! Sleep Paralysis Demons were a point of intrigue for me that I thought were perfect for a Dreamscape setting, so I started working on including those.

The Dreamalong Gang has little bits and pieces of friends that I had loved, but I leaned into the group dynamics more for them. They're composed of friends I wished I had growing up!

Visually, I'd think of a fun/dream adjacent theme for the characters to tie them all together thematically. I know people tend to bark at me when they see what I'm inspired by but, I don't like to copy directly from my inspiration sources. They're just there to inspire you, ya know?

Archie's theme was Wishing Stars and Bedtime Stories; Hunson Abadeer from Adventure Time used to be on here, but I moved away from anything that might've made Archie spooky. I forgot to include Peter Pan and his Shadow on here, but they inspired him as well!

When it came to palettes, sometimes I'd have something in mind for them already like with Roy G Biv, Archie, and Mae-- Roy has his kidcore rainbow/SMPTE bars, Archie had some of my favorite blues and creams with a pastel minimal rainbow, Mae's were based off the colors of a golden hour rainstorm I had seen on my travels. Other times I had to play around with what color I hadn't used much of yet. I wonder if you can tell which colors are my least favorite and which ones I like a lot hahaha :'o)

I would also think about stories and songs that went with the characters thematically and use those to shape their character a little further, like looking to The Impossible Dream from the 1972 Man of la Mancha and Moon River for Archie, as well as old Ole Lukoje fairytales. He used to draw inspiration from Hijo de la Luna, but I wanted his story to be more upbeat on surface level with hidden tones of sadness instead of dramatic.

I don't want this to get tooooo long, so I'm going to put a pin in it there. If people want to know more in depth inspiration sources for specific characters feel free to ask! I like being open about my inspiration sources and my process since so many other artists gatekeep stuff. I hope this was a nice read!! :o)

#thank you for the ask!#please ask me questions yes yes #If you are curious or unsure! Always ask!#I will get to them hopefully soon!#dream along with me #dawm project #dawm asks

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naomihatake · 1 year

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In search of freedom (Ch. 3)

3. A change of heart

Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa.

Warnings for this chapter: anxiety, tarot readings, canon typical violence, tension, mutual pining

Word count: 8k (um? It wasn't supposed to be that long, but I'm not unsatisfied at all)

Theme song: “Hoist the colors” by Bobby bass (click on the link)

A/N: I tried my best to add Zoro's perspective in this part. I don't know if I did a good job or not, but I'm experimenting with writing specific characters and personalities. I think I understand him a tad bit more than I did last time — in case you haven't noticed, I love psychoanalyzing my favorite characters and Zoro is one of them. The last chapter felt quick paced because of the fight, but this one is slow paced; I wanted to stretch the tension that way.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

"He has quite the bounty on his head," the witch commented as she looked at Buggy's wanted poster.

Zoro's fingers gripped tighter at the hilt of his white sword after he huffed.

"I should've killed him."

"And how were you supposed to be paid for it when you're a wanted man yourself?" Luffy laughed at him.

Another huff left the swordsman's lips and he averted his eyes with a scowl.

"I guess that's also right."

He tore the poster from the wall and squeezed it in his fingers, the paper getting destroyed right in front of his eyes.

"Stupid clown," he muttered.

A light chuckle got his attention; the witch who stood with her arms crossed right next to him didn't seem lively at all. Ever since they stepped on land in the Syrup Village, color drained from her face and she was constantly fidgeting and playing with her fingers. It was weird; the swordsman didn't spend much time with the other three, but they weren't impossible to read.

She didn't seem the type to be so awfully quiet. She had smart comments sitting on the tip of her tongue and it wasn't necessarily hard to make her smile; if anything, Luffy's smile was so contagious and it influenced her greatly, Zoro observed. The straw hat wasn't the only one in that situation — each one of them was. The witch somehow knew what to say and how to treat them, how to approach a topic.

Maybe that's why she was called a witch. For the life of it, Zoro didn't like to read between the lines and his usual blunt personality drew people away because they misinterpreted it as rudeness. Did he care? Not really. So why did he suddenly think too much about it? Why was he thinking of ways to get a word out of her mouth?

The woman his eyes were fixated on didn't hear Nami when she appeared, coming back to earth only after Luffy nudged her side with his elbow.

"Let's go find a ship."

She only nodded and followed along, burying one hand in the pocket of her pants. He saw when she bought a pocket knife from a stand and hid it. Zoro guessed her fingers were always curled around the knife for safety reasons, even if her fear seemed irrelevant — nothing was suspicious in that village.

They were the only suspicious people around there. A navigator who is a thief, a green-haired tall man with three swords attached to his hip, a pirate who wore a straw hat and a beautiful witch.

Beautiful, indeed, even if that word alone didn't do the woman enough justice. Not only the way she looked was pretty, but the way she carried herself, how stable she was on her feet, the sparkle in her eyes, the taunting mischief of her gentle smile.

A smile that has been gone for half of a day, now replaced by anxiety. Even a blind man could see the unsettling feeling she was carrying.

Zoro didn't realize when he took the opportunity of looking at her hair bouncing with each step after he chose to walk behind them all. He shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, moving his gaze away. His mind shouldn't be wandering on useless things.

Nami stopped in her tracks once they reached the dock.

"We don't need something flashy, we have to sneak it out of here without anyone noticing."

"You mean we're gonna steal a ship?" Luffy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes?" the navigator frowned. "Wasn't that obvious already? How else are we gonna get a ship?"

"We can ask for one!" he beamed.

"So you think that just talking with someone would bring us a ship?"

The witch only sighed and shook her head at the other two's argument.

"Fine," Nami gave in after looking for too long at Luffy's puppy eyes. "But if it doesn't work, we do it my way."

"Deal."

Instantly, he walked away in search of a ship.

"So, what's the actual plan?" Zoro asked nonchalantly.

"You two look around and see how lax the security is around here. I'm gonna look for a ship and if we have enough luck, we will bribe Luffy into stealing one."

"I wish you luck," the swordsman smirked.

That's how they split up, Nami heading in a different direction while the witch walked straight up ahead with one hand still in her pocket. He approached her after a few long steps, merely looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

"If you keep walking around so stiff, people will guess we have something to hide."

"The only thing I have to hide is a pocket knife. On the other hand, you have three swords and no one looked at you suspiciously yet."

Finally, she said full phrases. However, there was no change in her expressionless face.

"What's up?" he fully turned his head towards her.

"Hm?"

Those beautiful eyes looked up at him curiously.

"Is someone suspicious?" he asked.

"No, just the air."

Once again, she turned her face away before he was able to read what she was hiding. It didn't seem like something big or dangerous, but she was definitely acting shady.

On top of it all, she wasn't exactly paying attention to her surroundings, since she didn't notice the two marines walking around the corner. Zoro wrapped an arm around her middle and placed a palm over her mouth, shoving the both of them between two buildings.

Her fingers grasped at his wrist and if she wouldn't have reminded herself to let go of the knife, she could've cut him.

"You could've just warned me," she whispered to him after she moved his hand away.

They both noticed their situation way too late. Her back was pressed against his chest and his arm was holding her securely next to him. His fingers burned her skin even through the large shirt she was wearing. The air got knocked out of her lungs and for a moment, she remembered the second reason for her unsteady feelings — him. The pirate hunter she didn't like thinking of because it was better that way.

When Zoro noticed the marines went away, he let go of her, even if too slowly. He let his suspicions get the best of him.

"What are you hiding?"

The witch — who just grabbed at his arm to move it away — was in that moment frozen on the spot.

"Nothing important."

From behind her, he couldn't see the way she frowned.

"You're like a walking ball of anxiety."

"I told you, it's just a shift in the air. Nothing important," she gritted her teeth, getting irritated.

Why was she distant? Did she think he wouldn't believe in her intuition? — that's what she'd probably call it.

She moved away after what felt like years, but her shoulders relaxed. It seemed like she figured out God-knows-what.

"I don't like the energy. It feels like I'm gonna die soon."

"Did you see a black cat?"

"No, I feel something crawling up my throat."

She resumed her walking and he kept up with her for the second time that day.

"Everything seems fine. I saw only those two marines and they were awfully relaxed," Zoro changed the topic.

"Then, just like Nami guessed, the security isn't exactly top class," the witch responded.

They walked around in silence, spotting Luffy on a ship with a goat figurehead. The swordsman could see the happiness bouncing around the straw hat who just called out at them.

"Guys! I found it!"

"Did you think for more than two seconds before choosing it?" the witch arched her eyebrow, amused.

"Actually, one glance was enough to know this was the perfect ship for us."

"Why am I not surprised you were right?" Nami sighed.

"He will sell it to us," Luffy pointed at a young man who walked behind him.

"Um, actually, this is not for sale," he tries to smile, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

His golden-brown skin glistened in the early sun rays, which most probably meant he was working on something.

"And I'm not a salesman," he added. "But my friend owns this ship."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

They found out his name was Usopp and the friend he was talking about was a girl who was celebrating her coming of age on that day. Kaya not only invited them to dinner, but insisted they could sleep over, considering they were “Usopp's friends”. The witch was still getting used to being called a friend or comrade, since she doesn't remember the last time that word was met with serious intentions.

The girl's mansion was… big. It was like a labyrinth and even if Zoro was bad at directions, she thought it started to rub off on her the moment she walked towards the dressing room after taking a bath. The lights weren't particularly bright and the sun was setting by that time. The curtains were tied together, leaving space for the warm golden lights to bathe the hallways.

Mystery clung to each artifact and painting. It was beautiful, yes, but there was a certain aura of that place that unsettled her.

Not to mention the staff — she never thought it would come a day when she'd say “these people are weird”. For the past two years she's been traveling alone around the Blue East and she met dozens of people, one more intriguing than the other. However, that butler was suspicious. She wanted to believe he was just a father figure for Kaya and he was protective of her, but she couldn't.

From the moment when she entered the dressing room — she's surprised she even found it —, she decided to answer some questions of her own.

She shuffled her tarot cards in her hands, meticulously arranging each card that fell, putting them in order. It was confusing her — it was the second time she does the same thing, with the same question in mind, and she received the same ambiguous answer. Why did the cards have to be particularly hard to guess on that day?

She ran her fingers through her hair and ruffled it, accidentally tugging harshly enough to make her frown deepen, but she held back a hiss. Maybe some pain would help her focus, instead of letting her mind waver. Luffy, who sat cross legged on the carpet, just like her, was analyzing her reactions because he had no clue what she was doing.

"What do you see?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Why are you whispering?" Zoro asked.

The swordsman hasn't moved since he came into the dressing room and sat on a comfortable chair. He flexed his arms when he crossed them over his chest and threw one or two glances at the swords leaning against the armrest.

"I don't know," Luffy whispered again, snapping his head towards him.

She didn't pay attention to them at all. She had to admit that she felt better than an hour ago, before having the opportunity to take a bath, the reason why she was wearing a dressing gown only. It was so soft and the material felt perfect against her flushed skin, her collarbones exposed entirely.

She was completely unaware of the gaze locked on her. The woman had no clue a specific swordsman was thinking more than he usually does. There was an inner battle he couldn't fight by using his three swords style. He occupied himself by focusing on the material things; the carpet was soft.

Just as soft as her body when he glued her back to his chest to avoid those marines.

"What do you think?" Nami smiled proudly after she appeared from behind the room divider.

"You look like Nami," Luffy shrugged.

The witch chuckled at the response. She didn't smile once since she entered that mansion, but she couldn't help her reaction. Instead, she raised her head to the orange-haired woman whose shoulders fell at the answer she received.

After a few seconds of thinking, the witch decided to give her a real opinion:

"It compliments your body, but it isn't necessarily flattering — maybe you can find a few other options?"

Nami nodded, moving around to search for something else.

"I kind of feel bad for Kaya… she must feel lonely in such a big house," Luffy commented.

The witch decided to avoid the conversation, her eyes stuck once again on the few cards splayed over the carpet. She took in a deep breath and then sighed. It made sense, but it didn't feel like a complete answer. She decided to turn the rest of the deck upside down and take the card on the top.

"Dammit," she cussed out.

It confused her even more, so she just put the card back in the deck.

After a minute of spacing out, she managed to focus on the other three in the room.

"Rich people don't feel emotions the same way we do," Nami said flatly.

"She seems kind, though," the witch hesitated as the words left her lips.

"That's a big word," Nami probably rolled her eyes, considering her tone.

"Probably. She seems better than the butler, by the way."

"Have you guys seen him before?" Zoro asked, shifting in his seat.

Immediately, the witch moved her head towards him. He answered a question she didn't even ask and her fears felt validated for a brief second. So he also found that man suspicious.

"No, but I don't like him at all," the witch responded firmly.

"How come you can talk so easily about people you just met? No offense."

Nami was still looking around for a dress when she talked.

"It's not that I'm being judgmental — I can't assume what those people did or not. However, tell me, what about the staff makes you go 'oh, yes, they're good people'?"

"Good point," she pulled her lips together in a straight line. "They're weird."

The shuffling through clothes stopped, which meant Nami found something. Except, it wasn't for her, but for the swordsman who caught the caramel silky shirt that was thrown into his lap.

The witch let out another long exhale and closed her eyes. She hoped she could ground herself in a way or another, despite the unhelpful air surrounding the entire house. It was suffocating and it felt as if there was a heavy press on the crown of her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Seconds passed and the only thing she found in the depths of her thoughts was doubt and uncertainty. Nothing felt right, but she couldn't point out exactly what gave off that kind of aura. Slowing down her breathing didn't help either.

By the time she gave up and huffed, Nami and Luffy were out of the room. She saw the glimpse of a red silky dress pooling around someone's legs. Said person was Nami, surely.

A dress. Maybe it would be easier to hide a knife in her thigh holster.

"You're staring at these cards like you're gonna find out something, but I doubt you found anything," Zoro got her attention.

Once again, her fingers gripped at the strands of hair. Putting her confusion into words left a lump in her throat.

"I don't know what's going on and it's annoying. I don't have time for life lessons."

"Going on with what?"

"This entire mansion, maybe?" she looked at him.

His gaze made her skin tingle and she didn't know if she welcomed that foreign sensation or not. Everytime he talked, he managed to get her out of her thoughts, and she was both grateful and angry about it. For some reason, his stoic personality was safe in that maze.

"The butler is hiding something, that I know for sure," she whispered this time. "I never saw him, but something doesn't feel right at all. Protecting Kaya? It sounds like bullshit to me, Zoro."

She was stubborn about the opinion she has of that man and maybe it was wrong, but did she really care?

The swordsman didn't expect the sound of his name rolling off her tongue to stir something inside of him. It almost stung, her voice craving words in languages he's never spoken on his ribs. He paid attention, even if on a normal day he wouldn't listen to superstitions and the words of a probably insane witch.

Except it sounded like she was the most sane of them all.

"It probably won't make sense for you, but he's lying about something. He's not just a butler," she continued after glancing back at the cards. "He's fooling everyone and he's doing it well. This isn't what I'm actually concerned about — there's another lie I can't point out. The cards don't help. It feels like I'm being deceived, but for a good reason."

"By who?"

"I don't know. Or maybe I just want to avoid the answer."

She always hated her suspicious nature, the way her trust could be gained only by a few, and all of these people have been gone for years. She shouldn't be like that, it would be better if she'd have some faith in the people around her, if she'd allow herself to believe in them and their words. The ability to trust was a desire — something she wanted, but didn't have.

Zoro's body tensed and his frown deepened when he realized she was suspicious about one of them. At the same time, her attitude didn't match up because she seemed to despise her own suspicions.

Why was he so concerned about her? Yeah, right, he has no clue. Amazing. Perfect.

"I hate this," she muttered under her breath.

The witch put all of her cards in the deck and threw it on a chair after she stood up. Her eyes fell on the variety of clothes and she wondered what the fuck she was doing there in the first place.

Why was she there? She didn't promise to stay with Luffy. She had the opportunity to remain in Syrup Village for a while and then leave, just like every time. What was she doing in that mansion, looking at too many clothes hung in a huge room?

"Aren't you also gonna change?" she said without turning towards him.

"Do you even trust us?"

The question had the same effect as the tight embrace she was pulled into a few hours ago. Her breath hitched and she hesitated, fingers clutching at the material of her dressing gown.

The truth was other than what she thought of this entire time; yes. Yes, she did, and that was the most dangerous situation of them all.

"I wish I didn't," she whispered.

It was inexplicable, the faith she had in humanity after meeting Luffy. She would clutch at her heart and talk about how humans don't deserve her trust, she would talk for hours about how mischievous people are, that they adore taking advantage of others.

So it was normal to despise that feeling of longing, the desire to get attached to people, the need for a connection. It was normal to fear a bad ending and it was even worse that she thought such a thing couldn't happen anymore.

That was why the tarot cards confused her. They told a story different from the one her soul knew. What betrayal? What secret? Who was in pain they couldn't express? And why did she get the feeling that it wasn't exactly betrayal?

Her answer probably satisfied Zoro, since he got up from the chair and took a black suit he noticed minutes ago. He didn't say a word, but his shoulders were relaxed again.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was the last one to arrive downstairs, in a room that seemed like a living. She found it uncomfortable to wear a dress in a house filled with strange people, since it held her speed back and it wouldn't be exactly easy to defend herself. She opted for a dress she could move in, only squeezing her waist and chest, fluttering around her knees. It was long enough to hide a knife in her thigh holster. Getting discovered wasn't on her to-do list, but she had to ensure her own safety.

While she changed, her mind wandered… would any of them help if something happened? Her guess was that yes, they'd jump into action.

Without noticing, after she walked down the stairs, she gravitated close to the swordsman. She was with her back at one of her comrades, never out in the open, sharp eyes scanning each corner of the room. The table in the middle was strong, she figured out after she tapped her nail over the surface. If there were guns involved, she could use it as a shield.

"You should try these!" Luffy spoke with his mouth full of cookies as he looked towards her and Zoro.

"I have everything I need right here," the green-haired man responded with a smirk.

There was a glass of cocktail in between his fingers and he took a long gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Only now, the witch took her time to gaze at the expense of his shoulders, the suit fitting him perfectly. Considering how casual he dresses, it was surprising to see that kind of formal attire hugging his body so deliciously. The usual cockiness of his smirk was still present, just like the hand shoved into the pocket of his black suit pants.

Roronoa Zoro was more attractive than she liked to admit. His sharp jawline and the smallest bump at the base of his nose, the tall stature, those deep brown eyes sparkling in the light of a candelabra — damn, he looked like he'd been sculpted by the gods, despite the lack of belief he had in such almighty beings. The air was tight when she inhaled and she almost felt bad for ogling at him — almost, because the first time she met him, she was busy sweeping the floor with some Marines.

A feeling of control and steadiness oozed out of him, pulling her closer like a spell. For the briefest moment, her shoulders relaxed at the reminder that she's not alone there, that there are three other people she can put an ounce of trust in. That was the least she could do at that time.

With her arms crossed loosely over her stomach, the witch watched the interaction between Nami and a businessman — he looked and acted exactly like one, but lacked the mischief.

She missed the glance the swordsman threw at her, a look that lasted for too long to be friendly, but short enough to miss it. No, he thought to himself before taking another gulp of the liquor in his glass. He doesn't have time to indulge into such things.

The witch sighed at her own observations; she should unwind for a little while. She picked another glass of cocktail that was on the table and sipped, furrowing her eyebrows.

"It's sweet," she mumbled, surprised after licking her lips.

"Don't confuse sweetness for how strong it is," Zoro chuckled.

That simple sound made her heart skip a beat or two, bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pitch of her stomach.

"Beginner's mistake, I suppose," she shrugged.

Too bad she wasn't exactly a beginner.

The talkative Usopp and Luffy stopped, which caught her attention; these two were the loudest people she's ever met in her entire life. Kaya was walking down the stairs, her slim arms curled around one of Klahadore's — the butler.

Only now, the witch took her time and looked at her. The pastel pink dress drained the life out of that girl, as if her pale skin didn't do that enough. Her cheeks were sunk and her smile seemed fragile like glass. She still remembers the cough that ripped through Kaya's lungs like an old knife.

Usopp looked at her as if he saw his dream before his eyes. He was love-struck.

The witch smiled at the realization. A puzzle so easy to solve.

The only thing Luffy loved as much as his dream and crewmates was food. Behind the door where the stairs ended, there was a big table filled with too many plates to count and a variety of dishes. His eyes sparkled as if there was gold.

A simple minded person, indeed, and maybe that was for the best.

She couldn't rest. She was on high alert, her heart beating faster each time her eyes glanced over at the butler. The fork in between her fingers stabbed the meat in her plate once in a while, but the knot in her stomach was difficult to undo. The only reason why she managed to remain steady was the swordsman who sat to her left and — by some powers bestowed by the gods — felt steady and safe. His presence pulled her back to reality, stealing her attention. The witch has never been more glad not to be alone.

"We wanted to talk with you about a ship," Luffy said with a big smile on his face.

"Right," Kaya smiled back, letting her fork down. "Usopp told me you are sailors."

"We aren't sailors, we are pirates."

Damn it, Luffy!

The witch gulped, squeezing her eyes shut at their captain's excitement. This was about to end very badly.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The dinner ended abruptly. Kaya had a coughing fit and she wasn't feeling well, meanwhile, the butler blamed it on Luffy, who got on the table and had an entire speech. They weren't welcome there anymore and were supposed to leave at the first hour in the morning.

The witch found each opportunity not to be alone, aware it wouldn't be in her advantage in case something happened. When she saw Nami head back to their guest room, the witch followed her. She needed to change out of that dress into something she could run and fight in, like her usual clothes.

After locking the door behind her, she looked at Nami who was already slipping her arms out of the sleeves of that beautiful red dress.

"I didn't get to tell you that you look stunning in that, by the way. Definitely the best choice," the witch mumbled as she averted her eyes to offer some privacy.

"Not really the moment to talk about dress up, is it?"

"I know, but some compliments wouldn't hurt anyone, right?"

Wrong, apparently, since Nami stilled in her tracks. The witch decided to sit in silence for a while, while she changed from the dress as well, pulling on a plain t-shirt and some comfortable jeans she tucked into her boots.

The woman was aware of Nami who was moving behind her, now holding a pillowcase in between her fingers. It was clear she tried to move fast and leave the room before she could be noticed.

"Wanna be petty towards that rude butler?"

"It's not like anyone would notice. She's filthy rich," Nami mumbled through gritted teeth, disappointed about being caught. "Do you have eyes at the back of your head, by any chance?"

"Nope," the witch accentuated the p sound. "Just associating the rustling with the source."

"Did you eat some kind of sensory devil fruit?"

"Got born with it," the woman joked lightly.

Only then, she turned towards Nami, who stood tall, head tilted towards her. The witch was convinced about the suspicion she had while doing that tarot reading, but this time there wasn't a turmoil in her chest. The thunderstorm stopped, despite the clouds still covering the sky of her mind.

"Be careful roaming around with a pillowcase in your hand. We'll get in trouble if anyone catches us, especially the staff. They're creepy as hell."

"The girl hissed at me," Nami scoffed.

"Gods," the witch placed her hand on her forehead and shook her head. "Do you have any guesses about where the others might be?"

"Zoro drank like two bottles of alcohol, so I'll suppose he's searching for more."

The witch smiled softly at the response, despite the fact that she missed the undertone of Nami's answer.

"Don't tell me you were curious about Luffy or, worse, Usopp."

"Hm?"

An intelligent retort. The witch gulped down and looked away, biting at the inside of her cheek.

"I mean, Luffy gets himself in trouble all the time, it's not hard to find him."

"Are you acting stupid with me?"

Nami was grinning like the devil itself. Dammit, did she really have to be so observant?

"I'm pretty aware I'm smart, actually, so I don't get where this comes from," the witch whispered.

There was a hue pink covering her cheeks and she was fidgeting with her fingers behind her back, doing all of these gestures unconsciously. She felt like an idiot at that moment, she had to admit.

Then, as if lightning struck her, she widened her eyes for a brief second. She didn't even know why she was there, in that mansion, surrounded by strangers she wanted to put her trust into.

"What are you thinking of?" Nami asked.

"None of us promised to become a crew," she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

The navigator narrowed her eyes at the witch whose shoulders fell, the shyness she felt earlier deflating.

"It looks like it matters to you, though."

"That's exactly why I'm saying it," she smiled sourly. "Gotta make myself believe otherwise."

Silence stretched between the two of them. Two women who had stories and feelings to hide knew when to stop from asking questions, even if it would end up bloody later. It was clear both of them wanted to avoid sensitive subjects, even if the witch barely noticed when Nami started being the interrogator.

"Be careful, Nami," the witch smiled at her sincerely. "Usopp may be good at bluffing, but I'm better at playing the innocent. If you need someone to gaslight the shit out of the butler, just tell me."

I know what you do is wrong, but I believe you'll make a wise decision by the end of this all. I believe in your reasoning and I hope you can put your trust in me as well.

"Noted," and with that, the navigator left the room.

The witch almost got lost in that labyrinth again. She wanted to go to the kitchen, place where Luffy most probably was, but maybe she walked down a bit too many stairs and headed to the wrong side of the mansion.

She saw a tall figure in the dark basement where barrels full of wine were arranged with utmost care. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw Klahadore standing in the way, making one step back. Face to face with him was Zoro, who was ready to draw his sword out of its scabbard, but he quickly got hit in the back of his head by someone.

The witch's eyes widened, but she received the same treatment by someone who managed to sneak behind her back.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Her head ached, sending daggers all the way to her forehead. The witch let out a guttural groan and her hand flew to her nape, caressing the sore spot.

When her eyes opened, she was greeted by the dead body of Merry, the business man she noticed at the dinner. She flinched, scrambling to her feet, which wasn't an intelligent idea. Her vision blurred black and she felt dizzy, suddenly unsteady. If not for Zoro's grip on her arms, she would've fallen ungraciously on her butt.

"What the heck?" she mumbled.

After a few seconds that felt a bit too long, she couldn't understand exactly why it was so cold in that place. Her chin tilted back so she could look up at the night sky.

They were at the bottom of a well.

"We have to get out," Zoro spoke in a gruff voice.

He sighed heavily and let go of the witch, while she looked at him with the face of are you fucking serious?

"How?" she spoke without thinking.

After a failed attempt to escape by using a long rope with a big hook attached to it, she tried using her short knives to stick the blades in between the rocks; it didn't work either.

There was only one option left and she was speechless.

Her heart sank when she watched Zoro grip at the rocks. He was strong, yes, definitely stronger than her on the physical side, but what if he couldn't climb up? What if he would fall?

Then I'd catch him. We either die here together or we get out together.

Her mind was set. She watched him carefully, gulping when she watched him struggle. His weight might do some damage if she dared to be reckless enough to catch him, but he was the only one who could climb those rocks. If she would've tried, she'd surely fall.

Just like she supposed, his fingers didn't grip well enough at one of the rocks and his feet slipped. He lost his equilibrium and wasn't fast enough to clutch onto another rock or stabilize his foot in time, and he fell back.

Maybe that witch was more reckless than anyone would've guessed. On top of it, she was selfless enough to believe that if he managed to get out and get help, it didn't matter what happened later, so she tried her best to mitigate the impact.

She was right — air got knocked out of her lungs when his body fell on top of hers and she groaned, but at least he didn't break some ribs. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and her fingers clutched at his shirt. Pain traveled through her body quickly and didn't disappear, but the adrenaline paid off.

"Are you alright?" she asked him in a hurry.

"You're insane," Zoro concluded, exasperated.

His back was glued to her chest and he tilted his head to the side to look at her. Maybe, for once, he was right about her.

"I'd rather break one of my ribs. You're the only one who can get us out," she argued with a frown between her eyebrows.

The witch looked away and blinked. She didn't want to focus on how hot the air felt, despite the bone chilling cold in that tight space. The butterflies in her stomach could be ignored if she gathered enough self control in time.

However, Zoro didn't move. He seemed troubled, completely out of it as he continued to look up at the night sky with a scowl on his face. His entire body was tense and he was deep down in his thoughts, especially since he didn't move a finger since he disagreed with her idea of "helping".

As if struck by lightning, he got back up, following the same steps from earlier.

"Be careful."

He stopped in his tracks right after his fingers gripped at some rocks.

"Move away if I fall again."

"I won't move and you won't fall."

It pushed him at the edge, mingling with the memories flowing through his mind about his long lost friend, about the girl whose strength he admired so greatly it made him move again. For a brief second, he thought of himself as a coward for overthinking the process. He either got out alive and managed to get her out as well, or they were both doomed — there was no in between.

Steadily, a tad bit slower than before, he climbed up the wall. His body ached at the effort when he was more than half way through and he would stop for a few seconds before making another move, clutching at another rock that would get him higher.

Despite being so low, several meters under the ground, her trust in him didn't waver. Her heart squeezed with worry, but she wanted to follow her instinct and how much she believed in him, even if it was unusual. Maybe it was because of his stubbornness, since if he was set on something, there was no way of stopping him.

He lost his equilibrium for a fraction of a second. Her breath hitched, eyes widening, his name stopping on the tip of her tongue.

His foot slipped and some dust fell to the bottom of the well, next to her. She breathed out in relief when he was quick enough to grip at another rock.

The witch didn't doubt him one bit when he finally got out of the well. He kept the rope he found in the well at his waist while he climbed up, so he could help her get out too.

From up there, Zoro held tightly onto the rope, just as tightly as she did, even if her fingers hurt and she didn't exactly trust her body to be strong enough. She gripped at the cord and climbed the stone wall, gritting her teeth whenever it seemed like she might fall.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

It was a slow process, which was worrisome from her perspective. She advanced, but the longer she struggled, it felt endless.

For the record, she believed in Zoro more than she believed in herself — she didn't have low self-esteem either.

"Look up," he reminded her firmly.

He prompted his feet into the ground and held tightly, waiting for her.

"Trying," she mumbled to herself.

Slowly, she got closer and closer to the exit. Zoro bent his torso and curled his fingers around her forearm, managing to help her out.

"Fuck," she cursed.

Her breath was labored and she was sweating heavily, a droplet falling from her temple to her jaw and down her neck. She let herself on the grass, her arm still in his hand.

"I owe you my life," she breathlessly mumbled.

Unconsciously, her fingers were clutching onto his arm for support, even if her knees trembled from the tumult she went through.

"We have time for that later," he brushed it off. "We have to find the others."

"That butler isn't new to killing people who stand in his way. We better hurry before he chops us off."

"His name is Kuro. He was the captain of the Black Cat Pirates and supposedly died three years ago, when Axe-Hand Morgan killed him — the Marine Captain we encountered back in Shell Town."

The swordsman kept his grip firm on her, carefully bringing her back to her feet while he talked.

"I saw his face on a wanted poster some time ago, but since he was presumed dead, no one cared anymore."

"He looked very much alive to me," the witch retorted.

"I was with Usopp when I went to get wine and he managed to escape from the butler. Maybe he went to search for help, even if I doubt any untrained person could harm these pirates. Luffy was in the kitchen, eating some weird blue food."

Zoro let go of her and walked in the opposite direction of the mansion and she looked at him confused.

"Oi, Zoro, the house is the other way—"

Then, when she looked at the path that went through the forest surrounding the mansion, she felt a pull towards it. She furrowed her eyebrows and continued staring.

"You go that way. Nami is surely still inside."

"You just said I went in the opposite direction, though?" Zoro arched his eyebrow at her.

"Usopp searched for help, but if we think about it, Kaya said he has a lot of stories to tell. He's bluffing a lot, even if with no bad intentions. Maybe he found someone — if there's no sign of life on the path, come back."

"And you?"

"I'll find Nami and Kaya somehow."

Zoro didn't believe in superstitions and higher beings, but he trusted her instinct, so he headed the other way. The witch opened the door slowly, making no sounds. She slipped inside and looked around for an insane pirate who hisses — these two were creepy.

The young woman flinched when all the light suddenly disappeared and behind her, a heavy metal wall met the floor, stopping everyone from moving in or out of there. Fuck.

She gripped with both of her hands at the daggers she held at her hip, holding them securely. With slow steps, the witch made her way through the house. The big candelabrum hanging from the ceiling marked the way to enter and leave the house. To the left was the kitchen and to her right was the living room. The guest rooms and dormitories were upstairs. She still remembers which one was her room for the might and the bathroom.

If she didn't want to die there, she had to quickly figure that place out.

She heard one single step from the stairs and her attention shot up. Sham looked at her perplexed, but grinned widely.

"You were supposed to be dead, little mouse."

"Don't confound me with your food," the witch held the knives tighter.

Instantly, the woman jumped at her with a mop in her hands. The witch dodged the attack with a knife and the one that followed, bending her knees to avoid getting hit again. She tried to cut Sham's leg with her knife, but the maid was fast, jumping back in time.

Zoro, if you get lost on the way back, I'll wake up from the dead and kill you, she thought to herself.

"Captain Kuro will kill Kaya tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop him."

Sham's wooden mop clashed against the witch's dagger and avoided the knife which almost sunk into her shoulder. Sham attempted to make her fall by kicking her legs, but the witch made a light jump before she could fall.

It would draw attention to her and the cook might appear out of nowhere, but the witch sheathed one of the knives and pulled a pistol, aiming at the hissing woman.

"I'm too fast for your shitty guns, girl."

Yeah, sure. It was her time to grin at Sham.

Her eyes followed each of the maid's movements, moving her arm just in time to shoot her side. Sham was lucky enough to move out of the way, but the next bullet scarred her upper arm, another hiss leaving her lips.

"Fuck."

Aw, the kitty was angry.

The witch widened her eyes when she saw Sham pull a sword that seemed more suited for decor. She had to dodge the next attack, the blade almost touching her neck when she stopped it with her knife.

"Hey, Sham, do you need some help?"

The witch gulped at the new voice. It was the cook.

"I don't really think so."

The witch jumped back before her neck got cut, breathing heavily. She had to block other attacks while she attempted to find a weak spot, an opening to shoot and do it well.

The witch groaned when the blade left a deep and clean slice on her left upper arm. It stretched horizontally on the side. The shock almost paralyzed her and blood was quick to flow down her arm.

She tossed a knife through the air, the tip sinking straight into Sham's right arm.

A weight sound caught her attention and she turned her head towards the metal wall behind her that was slowly being lifted up by strong arms. Who the fuck could—

Oh, right. They had a bulky swordsman as part of the crew.

"Took you long enough," the witch muttered through gritted teeth.

Luffy bent down and smiled at her widely.

"Sorry for that."

"Keep apologies for later. Go after Kuro — he wants to kill Kaya."

Zoro followed the straw hat, straightening his back when he got inside. His eyes narrowed when he saw the crimson liquid covering the witch's arm, drawing his swords out. He could use the adrenaline pumping through his veins against the man who launched an attack at him.

"Go, Luffy. We'll keep these two occupied," he instructed.

The scent of blood filled the witch's nostrils. She aimed the gun at Butchy and the bullet flew right next to his ear, stopping him from hitting the swordsman. Sham was bold for taking the knife out of her arm and running towards the witch with the weapon in her hold. The witch stumbled and her back glued the floor, both her hands gripping harshly at Sham's arm, stopping the tip of the knife a few centimeters above her eyes.

"You little bitch," the pirate hissed at her.

The witch kicked the maid into the stomach with her knee, pushing her off of her. Luffy disappeared and the sound of blades clashing against each other filled the room.

Zoro used raw strength whenever he attacked Butchy, his swords almost cutting through the man with swift gestures of the wrist, elbows angled perfectly. He had more fighting experience than her and it showed, so she was more than just happy not to get sliced in half by the other two.

She cussed when she remembered she had only one revolver, the other one left in the room. She had three bullets left.

Her head got cloudy when she quickly got back to her feet, her breathing labored. She was tired and the only reason why she ignored her bleeding wound was the adrenaline.

This time, when Sham attacked with the mop, the witch only moved to the side and took advantage of the opportunity to cut with the knife through the flesh, the tip sinking deeper and deeper into the maid's stomach, until her body went limp.

The witch let Sham fall to the floor and stepped back. She felt her pulse pump through her head, slowing her down. She tried to focus on breathing evenly and eventually not passing out.

She heard a loud thump — the cook was down and Zoro sheathed his swords. He didn't break a sweat, or so it looked from her blurry perspective.

A sound rang through the air sharper than her daggers and it lit her on fire. The sound of her name being spoken with worry latched onto Zoro's voice.

He walked down two or three stairs at once, undoing the bandana from his head and wrapping it around her wound. She hissed when he knotted the material tightly in order to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," she whispered, her body still tense.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

"Don't mention it," Luffy smiled widely at Kaya. "We couldn't have let him hurt you or deceive people anymore."

If it wasn't for his rubber body, maybe they wouldn't have gotten out alive, but luck sided with them again.

"I could never thank you enough, but this is all I can do for you now."

The witch stared at the goat figurehead of the ship Luffy was enamored with. Kaya talked, but the words weren't registering in the woman's ears since a small little creature curled around one of her legs. The black cat mewled sweetly and begged for attention, a luxury it received quickly. The witch crouched down and petted the animal with a smile on her lips, brushing her fingers over the soft fur. The cat purred loudly, rolling on its back and pawing at the woman, greedy for affection.

"How's your wound?"

When she lifted her head, her eyes met Zoro's. One of his hands rested on the hilt of his Wado Ichimoji and the other was stuffed into the pocket of his jeans — she learned that was one of his most relaxed stances.

His bandana was still wrapped around her upper arm and the bleeding stopped long ago. She didn't get the chance to properly clean her arm or tend to the cut, but she felt content.

"I'll care for it on the ship after we set sail," she said in a soft voice.

Yes, that was the voice that made his heart hammer in his chest, he remembered. Finally, after a day filled with anxiety and panic, he could watch her shoulders relax, even if he wasn't exactly pleased with her lack of attention.

"Let's go!" Luffy shouted at them.

The witch stood up, wincing at the smallest movement of her arm, and that didn't go unnoticed by the swordsman.

She still avoided his question, he concluded. She said she'll care for the wound, not how it felt.

He tapped the hilt of his sword repeatedly and took a decision he didn't know if he'll regret later, following close behind her.

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 5 months

Text

Behind The OC Name

Thank you @kaitaiga @alypink @welldonekhushi @revnah1406 for the tag! Let's do this!

OKAY. I'm gonna turn into a bachelor of yappology here so bear with me ☝️🤓

🌹 Charlotte 'Jade' Le Jardin 🌹

Initially, I wanted to name her 'Roxanne'. Some of you might know this, but Jade used to be my original story's main character called Louisa. BUT, Louisa's initial name was Roxanne. I didn't know why, but elementary school me liked Roxanne so much (I didn't even know that it's also a song title by The Police back then HAHAH). I wanted a very recognizable name, but I think it was a bit much, so I switched to Charlotte because of Charlotte Bronte, the writer. Also, it turns out that 'Charlotte' means 'free man', it's pretty cool since Jade's story is mainly about breaking free from MI6's influence and shackles along with her parents. Meanwhile, Le Jardin was the result of Jade's family's occupation as a florist. I mean, it's a fake last name anyway as they were making an entirely new identity after escaping from MI6.

Jade was literally just because she had a green eyes, but I felt it's too cliche so I made an entirely new black division of MI6 where each agent is named of a type of ore/jewel. Plus, Jade is just easy to pronounce and recognizable, perfect for communication purpose!

🐞 Eleanor 'Ladybug' Graham 🐞

Eleanor's name came up just out of the blue from my mind. I drew Lady's design first, and then decided to make a name for her, and it's either Eleanor or Claudia, and I thought Claudia doesn't suit her at all, so I stayed with Eleanor. Eleanor means 'Light-hearted' or 'shining light', kind of goes along with her 'take-it-easy' attitude and how she's a medic and becomes the light of hope for the wounded. The surname Graham is literally just my obsession with Will Graham from Hannibal. My 14-16 year old ahh was obsessed with NBC Hannibal, and Will held a special place in my heart LOL.

When I created Ladybug, I knew I wanted a special and a cheeky callsign for her to pair with Gaz. I never really liked bugs, but I thought back then that a ladybug's shape and pattern is so damn cute and endearingly silly. So I just went with Ladybug. AND THEN, The NFC Championship 2023 game happened between 49ers vs Lions. Brandon Aiyuk caught a pass from Brock Purdy after the ball straight up bounced from Kindle Vildor's helmet, which resulted in a touchdown in the next play. At the interview post game, Aiyuk said "a ladybug landed on my shoe." JUST THEN I KNEW THAT LADYBUG MEANS 'GOOD LUCK'. And then the gears on my brain turned, and I can connect with how Gaz is always unfortunately hanging/falling from an aircraft, be it an airplane or a helicopter. The fact that he's always came out ALIVE after those events just tell me, there's gotta be a ladybug that's always with him 24/7!

🔥 Barandos 'Bara' Tarigan 🔥

For Bara, I just KNOW that his name's gotta be Bara because there's a celebrity chef from Indonesia called Bara Patirajawane, and it's such a sick name that I just had to make it into a name of my OC HAHAH. Bara also means 'fire embers' and it's pretty cool ngl. Tarigan is a Batak tribe surname (I'm half Batak from my name), so I just wanna have that element on my OC.

⏳ Silja Freyrsdottir ⏳

For Silja, I actually had quite a hardtime to name my OC. I didn't know what her appeareance yet, her story yet, and like what her role was in the God of War Ragnarok storyline. So I started to think of what goddess she was, and I wanted it to be close to Heimdall, so the Goddess of Memory and Remembrance it was. I then searched for that kind of god in the Norse mythology, and I didn't really find anyone that came close to what I imagined, so I just started from sratch. I sketched her character, and as I draw her I make up a story in my mind. Oh, she's an adventurer, a rogue princess, hmmm from what realm, Alfheim? Let's do that cuz I love Freyr. I wanted her name to be either 'Silja' which ironically means 'blind', or Ragnhild, which means 'battlecounsel'. QUICKLY I feel that Ragnhild sounded to professional for her adventurous character. Silja sounded so right, and her name could be like a contradiction to what her ability is, which is seeing people's pasts, but blind to the present (a flaw much like Heimdall's).

Tagging YOU 🫵 Reblog this with your OC's name lore!

#damn I yap a lot huh #please don't be bored 🙏#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw #god of war #god of war oc #call of duty oc #charlotte jade le jardin #eleanor ladybug graham #barandos bara tarigan #silja freyrsdottir #oc name lore #behind the oc name #tag game

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allthegothihopgirls · 5 months

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What kind of music do you think each of the Batfam members listen to? (Besides Jason who is obviously a Mitski stan)

OH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!!!! i'm gonna tryyyyy and take this seriously

starting off i think alfred's music taste influences just about everyone in the manor to some degree. lots of classical music flowing through the hallways at most hours of the day, the music reminds everyone of home. i think it's a general rule of thumb in the family that if you want to locate alfred, just follow the sound of mozart.

drawing off a bit of canon, i think dick listens to a lot of popular 80s stuff. the cure, joy division, the b-52s, billy joel, abba etc. that one panel of him humming 'here comes the sun' also comes to mind, i think he'd enjoy the beatles. however i do think he'd also be into some soft rock, maybe just a little bit of more intense stuff too. fleetwood mac's a big one i think he'd like. i've mentioned in a post before how i think dick would enjoy foo fighters in his post-robin rebellion phase, and i stand by that.

i do also enjoy his insane love for david bowie in the live-action titans adaption... very dear to me. i take that as gospel. also have a slight feeling he's a bit of a jazz guy once in a blue moon.

however i don't think he'd be overly into music, (the artists though, that's a whole other thing), i think he's also just happy to flick on the radio to some random dated station... or, don't crucify me... the top hits of the day.

i think jason's taste is a bit more refined. he's the #1 victim of alfred's classical music agenda, sitting in the library he's got something like 'lacrimosa' looping endlessly.

unlike dick who's got a happy-go-lucky approach to music, i think jason feels into it a bit more. he's joyriding through the city and listening to slipknot, sleeping with sirens, misfits etc etc. he's just looking for background music, maybe he's playing dashboard confessional, or... hear me out... lana del rey. he's out on patrol and is playing 90's rap through his helmet's bluetooth.

i think he'd also enjoy amy winehouse, the boys next door, no doubt, alice in chains, and maybe a bit of lorde. he's definitely into more indie bands too, local stuff. makes his own mixtapes and you'd only be able to recognise like 20% of the bands by name. he's also the one batfam member who i think would go to war to defend the songs he feels deeply about.

tim's a bit more difficult to narrow down, but i'll throw 90s alternative out there; jimmy eat world, oasis, radiohead, weezer, pearl jam type stuff. i'm also very set in my ways about femme-pop tim, which is definitely more out there and harder to justify. in terms of that i think beyonce, rihanna, and britney spears are the big three he'd enjoy.

i just think he likes anything with a beat tbh, it's not so much about genre or the actual song, as it is about the mood. similarly to dick, i don't think he's typically meticulous with defining his taste or anything, just happy to listen to whatever's making him feel good.

as for damian, i think anything with soothing instruments entices him. mainly classical, but not just limited to european stuff, i'm thinking of tyagaraja, toru takemitsu etc just off the top of my head. he'd also like elton john, queen, and other older artists with a polished vocal and avantgarde nature. i'm also going to put cartoon soundtrack music into the mix, specifically songs from adventure time. for whatever reason i'm also super drawn into the idea of him being big on kpop, although i don't know enough about the genre to make specific assumptions.

steph (ik she's not exactly batfam but i'm including her anyways) listens to predominantly female artists, and oscillates between very uplifting pop stuff, and.. societal hatred. so i think on one hand she's very into marina and the diamonds, kesha, and olivia rodrigo, but also paramore, hole, fiona apple, lorde etc. in contrast to all of that though she's also a huge fan of the beatles' solo careers, particularly paul mccartney.

cass is into a lot of the music she's done for ballet performances. the music for the snow queen instantly comes to mind as something that would be a favourite of hers. this might be a bit out there, but i think she'd enjoy grimes a lot, mostly because of how enriching it is to just listen to the sounds of, without having to pay much mind to the words she's speaking (grimes never really makes a lot of sense anyways). apart from that i don't think she really listens to all that much music, maybe some 2000s pop she hears on the radio driving around with steph.. i did enjoy the all star gag in batgirls (2022).

babs has a pretty similar taste to steph i think (i believe steph may have gotten some of her taste from her). she's a big fan of stevie nicks, gwen stefani, maybe the cranberries, hole, dolly parton, janet jackson, lauryn hill, and lesley gore. i'd like to say she enjoys a bit of 70s eccentric too, the doors, blondie, bowie etc. i don't think she's overly fussed with what she's listening to, as long as it doesn't sound too watered down and modern-pop like.

and i don't really know enough about duke to make assumptions, so i'm just going to let him sit out of this one. i also don't think bruce has any time for music, except for a bit of classical to help him concentrate every so often.

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itscherrylipsforme · 6 months

Text

Did not expect: Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader

Blurb. Reader is a "gold star" student and a good influence for him, but also a hardcore rock lover. Slightly spicy at the end so +16. Incredibly self-indulgent

Masterlist Characters I write for

If someone had asked Rodrick what type of girl he was into he would have answered that any groupie nice and enthusiastic about him enough would play the part. After all he was sure that thousands of them would be after him the moment Löded Dipper became a smash. What certainly did not expect was... Well, falling for you instead.

And he did not mean that to sound rude. It's just that you were not in his plans (he barely knew if he had one most of the time, but if he had it you were definitely not in it). He couldn't find the way to put it in better words. You were not his type, wait no... That wasn't the truth actually. You were, but not in the way he had expected.

In one of his meeting with his bandmates they started to talk about their "dream girl". Among other less innocent requirements Rodrick added this two: "Great music taste" and "must copy with my humour". You had both, nevertheless he still believed himself to be out of his mind when he realized he had caught feelings for you.

He had seen you around in High School, it was weird to someone not to know your name. Popular was not the word he would use to describe you. Surely you were not among the people in the top of the social pyramid. Known, that was what you were. Perfect student. Nice most of the time, sarcastic and witty when needed. Most of the teachers relayed on you if they required a tutor for some of their students. That's how you started to properly talk with him.

He did not expect you to find him sitting in the library with his black headphones on. He hadn't planed that you would be his last opportunity to pass literature this year. Yet you were, so he waited for you to come. Same way he wasn't aware that his headphones weren't fully connected to his mp3. He did not expect that the drums' beat coming from there was quiet enough not to anyone else in the library to notice, but you.

"Hawkins is the best drummer ever, just after Roger Taylor of course" He did not expect that you would say that as you left your books by his side of the table.

"What?" A small confused smile appeared in his lips.

"Taylor Hawkins I mean" You shrugged "You have a great taste, I love Foo Fighters too. The Mp3 was unplugged, that's why I heard it. I thought it could be a good icebreaker to start with. Y/n by the way"

He wanted to come up with an intelligent remark, ask more about which groups you like it. Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it, your words had surprised him more than you had expected. A whispered "I am Rodrick" and a nod was all you received as an answer. Books were opened, and you decided to start working.

Surprisingly, in the following weeks Rodrick did not only manage to learn more about the subject he was struggling with, but also about you. A strong bond was created with the time. Gifted CDs with songs he thought you would like. Singing 18 by Harbour in the front passenger seat of his van. Shared glances and jokes. Being one of the few people allowed to his band practices and that he really feel comfortable talking to... Beautiful things and memories that only made you closer. Feelings that neither of you was ready to stay out loud until one day he did.

At his house. You were trying to teach him how to do his eyeliner properly, as he still needed more practice. Eyes glued to each others, your hand resting in his face to keep him in place, your focused expression too cute to resist... So he just did it, kissed you out of the blue like his life depended on it. And instead of pushing him away as he had predicted, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Hands tangled in his messy hair. The eyeliner pen long forgotten, and the make-up scattered around his face, but neither of you cared about it.

Yeah, Rodrick Heffley did not expect to fall for you. He did not foresee that you would be the one he introduced to his parents. He did not anticipate that his first official girlfriend would be called a "good influence" by his mother. Neither would he have guessed that he would end up dating the nerdiest and prettiest girl in High School to his eyes. It was astonishing that he actually smiled when you played with Manny and told him tales. And that he was not so annoyed with Greg when you were the one listening to his multiple complaints about High School. He was not prepared to giggle like he was crazy every time "Walking after you" came on the radio, and he daydream of having you on his arms.

And yet, you had a few surprises left for him to find. Late at night, coming home from a small gig his band had had. The house just for the two of you as the rest of his family was visiting his grandfather. He had to deal with a serious "Use protection" coming from his father so they could finally let you stay with him.

A trail of kisses from his lips and cheeks to his neck, too messy and sweet to ever forget them. Muttered "I love you"s. He was playing with the hem of your shirt until you nodded giving him permission to toss it aside. He certainly did not contemplated the idea of finding a lacy pinky bra below the leather jacket you had borrowed from him. Furthermore, he wasn't prepared to find it so hot and cute at the same time.

"You know what, pretty girl?" He whispered as he started kissing your collarbone "You were unexpected. But what a wonderful surprise you are"

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

#rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Text

🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K

𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own.

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers.

A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.”

Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.

“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.”

The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction.

Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.

I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.

You spoke too soon.

Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face.

Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year.

You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities.

You missed him.

You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do.

Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.

That was the one thing he didn’t mail back.

He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.”

“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.

“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.

It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air.

The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.

The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.

Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for.

You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose.

You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.

“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.”

“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”

He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.”

The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump.

“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.”

You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?

He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words.

“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.”

Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.

“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”

“Please don’t.”

He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.”

“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.”

The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent.

He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”

He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade?

It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other.

How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes?

How could he?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand.

“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.”

Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”

You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.”

Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.

“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”

“Yet you followed me out here anyway.”

Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red.

“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry.”

His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?

“Muse—”

“Don’t.”

He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.”

You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”

“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.”

“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.”

“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.”

“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia.

You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.

From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too.

The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”

“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.”

Why? He never listened to you in the end.

Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened. He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined.

You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art.

That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head.

You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit.

Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice.

Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love.

You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls.

It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.

Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you.

When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.

He was after your heart, and he surely got it.

He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box.

It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return.

You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below.

In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him.

“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.”

“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?

It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced.

You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.

“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear.

Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen.

Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations.

In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration.

Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow.

You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.”

“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”

He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”

And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable.

“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”

Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood.

“You deserve better than me.”

No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this.

“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.

The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.”

There it is, the last nail in the coffin.

Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists.

He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing.

Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

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