#sad that i accidentally drew this on a small canvas

[feytouched]

"...If I said these little words... Everyone's favourite... I love you." You'd be lying. "Having fun, are you?"

she knows, but she'd like to pretend.

+ live shadowheart reaction cam

[ra-vio]

im supposed to be studying

[irradiatedsnakes]

[ID: two collaborative digital canvases on which every practically possible space is filled by drawings- including mechanisms and magnus archives catboys, many drawings of gerry keay as a bat, furries of all sorts, along with numerous other drawings and doodles of many sorts. (for a full ID, check below the cut). end ID.]

HERE THEY ARE!! this was SO much fun i can’t wait to do this again. thank you SO much to everybody who came and drew! also very nice that it took maybe a minute and a half to two minutes before the catboys started. i definitely recommend, especially for the first one, viewing the full image and taking a couple minutes scrolling through everything.

i don’t know the urls of everyone who came and participated, so if you did and you don’t see yours here, reply and let me know! artists included: @fox-guardian @alientoastt @transmikecrew @lesbianlotl @demonicxiconic @weredragon @onedragontorulethemall @topazastral

massive image ID below the cut.

Canvas 1: almost every single space on this canvas is chocked to the brim with doodles. some are just sketches, some are colored to various degrees. starting from the top left: the label “nyarchivist” among multiple people’s drawings of jon sims as a catboy, all in green. in the very top left, he is more an actual cat with glasses and hair than a catboy. below him is a catboy jon who looks confused to be here, with a “:D” face by his head. to his right is a much smaller catboy jon labeled “he”. below and to the left is a catboy jon looking deviously to the right. where he is looking is a drawing of drumbot brian as an anthro horse, with eboy style makeup and piercings, he is looking confused back at the catboy jon. between the two of them is a sign with “gay rights” written on it, and a drawing of a cat labeled “the admiral”. below them are another set of doodles: there is a very, very small benry shaped like a little blob with the text “so small.... no room” with a sad face. below him is a drawing of marius von raum with vampire fangs, sticking his tongue out, labeled “he’s baby”. below him is a very small drawing of jonny d’ville, labeled “manlet”. below him is a small doodle of a one-eyed minion with incredibly buff arms. to the right of these three is a larger drawing of jonny d’ville as a catboy, looking deviously up at one of the catboy jons. he is holding a gun in one hand, from which a flag reading “bang!” is coming from the tip. he is labeled “he’s a catnnibal”. below these are two drawings of martin and jon. to their right is a small drawing of danny stoker, labeled “danny stonks”. to his right is a doodle of raphaella la cognizi with an octokitten on her shoulder, holding up a finger and smiling, saying “the experiment was a success! catboys are real now”. to her right is a colored drawing of marous von raum as a catboy, labeled with hearts and “this dude is trans and there’s nothing you can do about it”, with a small trans flag doodled beside. below him is a drawing of raphaella with a golden crown. to her right are two different artists’ martins, waving to one another and saying “hi!”. the one on the right is labeled “tiny”. above them, near catboy marius’ trans flag, are two shrimps. above is a drawing of tim stoker, with a wario mustache drawn onto his face. above him is a doodle of waluigi and wario, labeled “stoker bros”. to their left is a purple octokitten with yellow eyes. above it is a doodle of gerry keay, labeled “gerry :)”. above him is a drawing of an anthro calico cat, wearing a red hoodie and holding a tablet pen. to their left is a drawing of an anthro axolotl, smiling. to the right of these is a very large and very detailed drawing of gerry keay as an anthro vampire bat. he is wearing a “the ocean” band t-shirt and a leather jacket with various pins on it. he is holding up a lighter with an eye symbol with one of his wings, and is labeled “accidentally sets his patagium on fire bi-annually, probably” and “this fucks”. to the right is a doodle of gerry keay as a catboy, labeled “nyarson”. above him is a drawing of fire, labeled “arson.” below this is a doodle of gerry keay as an ghostly anthro bat, with “ghost stuff” labeled next to him. to the left is a green octokitten with purple eyes. below it is another drawing of gerry keay as an anthro bat, with a neutral expression. left is the final gerry keay as an anthro bat. he looks happy and is waving with one wing. there is a small drawing of sollux captor next to his wing. below is a tiny drawing of jon sims being comically, extremely buff. to the right is a small drawing of sasha james wearing a nonbinary flag skirt, labeled “compressed sasha”. to the right is another very small sasha, labeled “small your sash”. throughout the whole canvas are little aqua stars. end ID for canvas 1.

canvas 2: this canvas is much less densely packed, and is comprised of mostly more finished drawings and less sketches. starting from the top left is a doodle of catboy elias’ head, looking smug. below him is a drawing of a character with blonde hair and blue scelera in their eyes. below is a drawing of nastya rasputina, who has a neutral smile on her face. to the right is a colored drawing of a dragon’s head. it is aqua with purple eyes, a pink blush, and blue shading. next to it is a doodle of jon sims, as well as of a small blue planet with green rings. below is a drawing of danny stoker smiling and doing a finger gun, labeled “danny banany” for his yellow shirt. to the right is a doodle of a mushroom person with a yellow and blue cap and a spear, labeled “pax” with a heart. below is a drawing of gerry keay as an anthro bat, with a small smile. he is holding one wing out, showing the way his leather jacket connects between the membrane of his wing. to the right is a doodle of gerry keay, with a neutral expression. beside him are three doodles of an anthro cat- one looks distressed, one looks happy and is blushing, and the third says “i know none of these characters i just like furries and skulls”. beside is a drawing of another anthro cat, and a doodle of a very small octokitten labeled “yall like these right” to which someone has replied “yeah :D”.  to the right is a small doodle of raphaella la cognizi, with a devious kitty face. to the far right is a drawing of nastya rasputina, holding a wrench and smiling. above her is a catgirl nastya, drawn in monochrome pink. she is smiling. above in the same color is a catperson toy soldier, also smiling, labeled “luv them”, a smiley face, and “it” with a heart. to the very top right is a spotted octokitten. down and to the left is a catboy michael distortion. he is smiling with spiral blushes on his cheeks, labeled “@demonicxiconic”. to the left of him is a drawing of a raccoon looking behind it with a golden halo above its head. there is a trans flag doodled between them. above is a colored drawing of gunpowder tim as an anthro coyote. finally, to the left of this, is a full-body drawing of catboy gunpowder tim. he is sitting with a neutral expression, looking upwards. there is a though bubble coming from him, that reads “gay thots”. end ID.

[ohnopoe]

Ulyc | Din Djarin

Ship: Din Djarin x Reader Word Count: 5.6k+ hahaha oops Tagging: @23orso​ & @hawkerz12​ Author’s Note: This is for the Mando’a Mandalorian Writing Challenge! My prompt was ‘Ulyc’ meaning careful or carefully. I’m so glad I finally got a fic finished for this fandom because damn do I have a lot that are sitting in my drafts unfinished, wow. Anyway, enjoy a slice of awkward fluff!

It wasn’t just hot, no, it had surpassed hot hours ago. The metal of the cargo hold practically sizzled whenever you accidentally brushed up against it, and you half expected to see steam wafting off the thin fabric you were using as a barrier against the heated steel. No, this was not hot as you had known it, this was sweltering.

Your usual flight wear had long since been abandoned, replaced by old threadbare shorts and a tee that was far from appropriate for anyone’s gaze. Hair stuck to you, that constant layer of sweat refusing to budge no matter how much water you consumed, nor how much you splashed desperately over yourself from the ‘fresher.

It was beginning to affect your mood too, making your responses short and concise, sharper than they might have been otherwise. There was no room left for your usual warmth and patience, it had been burnt away from you as time passed, searing the very nature of your being from you.

Of course you empathised when the child would coo unhappily at you, arms reaching up to you as if a hug would help his discomfort. It must be so much harder when you didn’t understand why the Razor Crest was suddenly akin to Hell’s Inferno.

You had tried to keep him cool, dousing him in water, a constant myriad of cooling focused on him as you suffered silently. But as the hours drew on each call of discomfort only played on your already frayed temper.

You could only hope, pray, beg the maker that this ceaseless torture would somehow end soon, that you would find somewhere safe to make repairs, that the damn hyperspace engine would come back from overheating when the temperature control had claimed it, and would allow you to travel once more at a normal pace.

Logically, you knew you could call up the ladder, could ask if you were nearing your destination, if it looked like this hell would end any time soon, but you thought better of it.

Din had been in just as much hell as you when he had trudged up the ladder, accepting your suggestion that you stay separate throughout the trip so he could remove not just the beskar that weighed him down, but the helmet that clung to his face too. You couldn’t disturb him now.

He had been so wary, so anxious to leave you alone in your suffering. His worry had shown in the small movements you had come to look for, had come to learn in a desperate attempt to understand your companion where usual tactics were lost. It showed in the way he dithered in his movements, shuffling on his feet, reaching out for you just like the child did, barely coming to his senses as his hand was nearing your cheek, ready to wipe away a bead of sweat that had made itself known. It was only when you pushed the canteen filled of cold water into his hand, only when you turned and began to rid yourself of any unnecessary clothing that he finally felt compelled to leave you.

If you sought him out now, if you called up into the cockpit you knew all his anxieties would come back, he would worry for you when he had to focus, and you were determined not to be a distraction. But that didn’t mean you weren’t worried. It had been hours now, hours since the temperature rapidly rocketed up, hours since he had taken that single canteen of water into the solitude of the cockpit. Surely he needed something else to drink, surely he needed a break.

Your thoughts were interrupted, however, when yet another sad coo echoed through the cabin. The child was desperate, wanting attention and comfort even though the touch he craved would only make the suffering all the worse. You had tried to explain it to him, tried to speak in soft words as you showed him slowly that the hugs he sought out would only increase both of your temperatures, would only make the horrid stickiness of sweat glean fruitfully. But he would hear nothing of it as his little arms reached out for you.

A sad smile, sympathetic, perhaps a touch irritated, played on your lips as you gave into his pathetic whimpering. It wouldn’t help in the long run, but you couldn’t let him suffer alone.

The child clung to you gratefully, a small heat-pack you did not need adding to your raised temperature. But he was calming down now, even though you knew damn well that he couldn’t be any more comfortable than you.

You had resorted to soaking fabrics in water from the ‘fresher, using them as cooling packs against the back of your neck, and wrapped around the child’s head, a desperate attempt to keep from overheating too much. But now, with the child tucking in against your chest, seeking out the comfort he knew so well, the cold liquid of his temporary bandana pressed tight against you too, adding the slightest relief against the hot blooded little being.

Perhaps this wasn’t too bad. And at least now he was beginning to settle, those large eyes faltering in an attempt to stay open, exhaustion finally starting to plague him. It had already been a long day, a bounty having caused more trouble than expected on a practically inhospitable planet, the seemingly easy task having stretched out for days, days of no sleep, of high emotions and tension. The last thing any of you had needed was the ship overheating on the way back to Nevarro, in fact it was quite the opposite of the peaceful evening flight you had hoped for.

You almost wished you could find that same peace, that same place of exhaustion the child was reaching quickly in your arms. Wouldn’t it be nice to simply sleep through the heat? To wake up safe and sound and cool? Even Nevarro, with its chaotic weather, lava spilling freely, would be more acceptable than this hellscape.

But the cooling effect of the wet fabric against his head was losing its power, and with the evening out of his breath, you simply knew you had to put him down to sleep. He’d be more comfortable in the long run, curled up in a thin blanket instead of seeping in the heat that radiated off of you.

The little hovering [pram] was completely out of the question, too small and condensed, with the blankets only helping cocoon the heat in. But then, the little hammock he knew so well was hardly any better. It was better aired, yes, but in order to keep him comfortable, and to keep him from potentially falling out, it too was layered in blankets.

When the hell did the Razor Crest get so many damn blankets everywhere?

You weren’t entirely certain what prompted you to do it, it wasn’t that you thought he’d be mad if he found out, if anything he’d be more logical about it than you were currently capable of being, but you still hesitated as you looked at the cot Din used for sleeping. It was harsh and coarse, but it had some give to it, allowing for enough comfort for the little one to remain asleep and able to spread out.

But even as you put the sleeping child down, your brow furrowed in discontent. It wasn’t that the fabric was itchy per se, but it certainly had grown old, any comfort it once held long washed out of it. The slightest give of the canvas below didn’t help either, it held no real support or care, and you were starting to understand how it was Din could sleep so easily in the pilot’s chair, or sitting upright on the ground… or just about anywhere really. Had he ever slept comfortably?

To be fair, your own sleeping arrangements were no better. Having refused to take the small solitude of his sleeping quarters, if you could even call them that, when he had offered, you had bunkered down on the floor, a nest of blankets and clothing that worked somehow as a bed whenever you got the chance to rest. It was easy to pick up, easy to push back into a bag and ignore during the day, and you weren’t even certain whether or not Din actually knew, or for that matter cared, where it was you lay your head at night.

You kept the shutter open, even the thought of how much worse it would have been with it shut in the small enclosed space making you cringe uncomfortably. This way he’d at least have some air, and you’d be able to keep an eye on his little sleeping figure as his entire being shifted with each easy breath he took, falling further into his dreamland.

For something so difficult, he was incredibly cute, especially when his little beady eyes were closed, his mouth pouted open with little snores escaping him. He looked content, almost happy in his sleep, and you could feel the irritation from earlier beginning to ebb away at the peaceful sight.

The sound of static shook you from your revery, causing you to turn suddenly in alarm. Only when the sound of a voice, not quite as distorted as usual, but still grating through your communicator, followed, did you begin to relax.

“I’m coming down,” the words were simple and straight to the point, and if his tone held a touch of nerves, you wouldn’t be the one to bring it up.

You nodded in answer, your mind slow from the heated haze, before you cleared your throat in realisation that he obviously couldn’t see you. A few steps and a rush of material later, and you found the communicator you only used when he was away hunting a bounty under your discarded flight-wear.

“Ok,” you spoke into the small device, moving further into the cargo bay, nearing the ramp to give him as much space as possible. Only when you were  on the other side of the hull did you bring it up to your lips once more, realising he would need more than that, and attempting to reassure the both of you as you added, “my eyes are shut, and covered.”

You dropped the communicator onto a nearby crate as soon as the words were out of your mouth. With your back facing the ladder, your eyes squeezed shut so tightly it was almost painful, and your palms covering them dramatically, to make sure he was aware they were covered, you waited.

Time passed slowly, and logically you knew it was most likely just your thoughts that made it feel that way. You had never been in the same room as the Mandalorian without his helmet, had never even considered it a possibility. Hell, had you assumed too much? What if he was only giving you the warning so that you would be decent? What if he had every intention of putting his helmet back on before coming down to face you, despite the discomfort it would bring.

There was no reason to think he would be comfortable enough around you that he would risk something so important, or trust your words. Sure, you had been travelling with him for some time now, had even fought by his side, if somewhat chaotically as you didn’t really know what you were doing. You trusted him with your life, and you liked to think he trusted you with his, but that didn’t mean he had to trust you with this.

A life is a life, it’s something sacred and precious and unlike anything else. You would protect him and the child, just as he would do the same for you. But at the end of the day, it was the same for any innocent soul, wasn’t it?

His beliefs, however, they were something different. Special and ingrained in his very being. They shone clear for the world to see, secret in their depths, but loud in their importance. Every sight of that helmet was a reminder, every time he would hold back or care for his weapons with more reverence than you had ever seen before, it only reconfirmed just how true that was.

This is the way.

It was repeated often enough that you had no problem accepting it. For him, it was simply a fact. And that included having his helmet on, being sheltered from the world, even the child he called his foundling.

No, expecting him to remove his helmet, even when you assured him you were doing what you could to help protect his creed, was impetuous at best.

The sound of his boots hitting the ground shook you from your fears, loud and distinct, intentional even. He wanted you to hear, wanted you to know he was down now, and the lack of an explanation only further proved your thoughts right. He had to be without the helmet.

You tried to shake the thought from your mind. It might have been overly presumptuous, but it was done now, and you’d just have to deal with any ramifications later, when you were together and no longer practically melting into the metal slates below.

Silence drew on.

Your eyes were closed tightly, and you could feel sweat running down your forehead, threatening to follow your creased up features and sting them through gaps you could not fathom. But you refused to relax, refused to smooth your stressed forehead, to calm the crunched up lines that were practically creating caverns for your sweat to run down. It didn’t matter if the salty wetness stung your eyes, didn’t matter if you were only causing more sweat to form, your eyes were going to remain dramatically closed, even behind your raised palms, even as you had your back turned to him.

He’d be done soon, you reckoned with yourself, mentally following a droplet of sweat as it desperately attempted to cool your sweltering forehead. There was no way he’d stay down here longer than necessary, no way he’d risk further exposure.

But then, why didn’t you hear any movement?

There was no rush of water to drench his cowl, no metallic clinking of the ‘fresher door that refused to move silently no matter how much oil you gave it. There was no sound at all.

Since the moment his boots had met the metal floor, all had been silent.

“Mando?” you called out into the darkness, worry playing on your tone. He had to still be there, you would have heard him leave, would have heard him move. Even in his quietest moments, when he would move so swiftly, so deftly, you had learnt to attune yourself to him. You might not hear his steps, but his cloak would sway and ruffle against itself, his armour would scratch against its straps… Even now, without the armour you were so used to, you were sure you’d hear something.

But the silence reigned on behind you, the Mandalorian stock still, barely hearing the way you turned the nickname into a question of its own.

He was transfixed. Without the interference of his visor he could see you, really see you, and that alone would have been enough to capture his attention. There were no displays of temperature, no shifting images or dulled colours, you were there before him, natural and pure. It would have stolen his breath at any moment, a sight he longed to keep in his mind forever.

But this wasn’t any other moment. Your baggy flight-wear was long gone, the layers you usually kept yourself covered in, protected by, had been discarded the moment he had moved up the ladder. Now he was faced with something new, something he could never have imagined, and something that was making a permanent home in his mind.

Your back was to him, but he could still see so much. Your legs peeking out of those old shorts seemed so much longer, so much more enticing away from their usual confines. Your t-shirt was stuck to your back, showing every dip and curve, giving a view of your body he had never come close to before. Sweat made your skin glean in the low lights of the cabin, enticing and captivating, and his mind was filled with images of your skin just as slick from sweat, but under such different circumstances; under him.

“Din?” his name came out soft, quiet, unsure. It was rare that you used the name aloud, only in moments of true fear or worry, moments you knew only he could hear you, or moments you worried even that weren’t possible.

The sound of his name, so worried, practically pleading, jolted him from his thoughts, and behind you a rush of fabric sounded, the stoic Mandalorian moving this way and that, turning from you as if he was desperately trying to remember why he had come down in the first place.

“I-” his voice was rough and restrained, the single syllable forced out of his dry throat as he looked down to the empty canteen in his hand. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the silence without the filter of his modulator, deep and gravelly. If you hadn’t had your eyes closed before you knew they would have closed of their own volition at the raw sound. “I won’t be long.”

Was he reassuring you, or himself? He didn’t rightly know. But somehow he needed to say it, needed to confirm he would be back in the safety of the cockpit soon, away from the tantalising sight that had stolen his attention, away from the danger of you potentially turning around, of breaking his creed.

Your nod was almost robotic, reluctant in its jolted movement, and you could only hope he saw it because words were failing to form in your mind. So that’s what he sounded like without the modulator playing with his tone. It was oddly warm and comforting, softer than you might have expected; but then that was a reoccurring theme, contradicting with the tough Mandalorian you had expected when you had first boarded the ship.

You were right, you could hear his movements, even when they were softer than you had come to expect. His boots where mandatory, it was just downright dangerous to be on the ship without them, as you well knew, but aside from them, the sounds he made were different. There was no shifting of his cape, no grinding of beskar against itself, no fabric rustling as it gathered against his many layers. Everything seemed muted.

The focus you had put on his helmet, or lack there of, suddenly seemed so much smaller as you came to the startling realisation. He was probably no more dressed than you were, attempting to alleviate the heat and rid himself of his usual attire that would have had him sweltering.

With the sound of his canteen filling, water sloshing against the sides, your own throat felt suddenly dry. What did he look like? What was he wearing? He was always so covered, so protected, but now, in the sweltering heat, he was more bare than you had ever witnessed, and in a way, you still were no witness to it.

Would his skin be on display? Would his fingers be freed of the gloves he usually wore, the smallest, most tantalising and distracting display of skin free for the world to see if only they should look?

It was such a small area to focus on, especially when you knew his face, of all things, was uncovered too, but somehow there was a mystery there, brought to life over months of curiosity. You had seen the way the arm of his shirt would shift against his gloves, never quite showing any skin no matter what he did, and it was hypnotising. Somehow it had grown to something more than curiosity.

You could wonder all day over what his face might look like, what colour his hair might be, or the depth of his gaze. But his wrists held possibility. You knew you would never know the beauty of his face, never hold the image of him in your gaze, but the same was not necessarily true of other parts of him.

Perhaps one day you would know the tone of his skin, whether his fingers were soft from the protection of gloves, or calloused from the never ending work he pursued. Perhaps you would feel his hand against your own.

It was a small dream, but one you could not seem to shake as time went past, and the curiosity of the man hidden by beskar only grew.

You didn’t know how long you stood there, wondering over what he might look like, over what he might feel like to touch now that he had removed so many layers of cloth, but the thoughts distracted you from his movements and the sounds he made. They distracted you from how quiet the hull had become as he once more lost himself to the silence.

The touch was feather light, dancing against your bared shoulder so carefully that you weren’t entirely convinced it was real. But still, it jolted you from your thoughts, bringing you back to reality with a sudden jump. He was still there, those relaxing sounds of him teetering about the hull gone, replaced by that same silence that had dawned when he first descended.

It had been light, gentle, eerily careful, and you couldn’t quite place what had happened. It felt too soft, too giving to be his hand or glove, almost plush against your skin. So quick to touch you, and so quick to leave, but it had your head spinning. It almost felt like a-

“I’m sorry,” the words danced against your skin, warm breath caressing where he had touched. You could feel the movement of his lips with the gentle statement, only confirming your hopes.

He was there, his lips had met your shoulder ever so lightly in the gentlest of kisses, and he was apologising?

Your silence hung heavy in the air, only making the heat all the more unbearable as tension steeped into it, but your mind was foggy and words were hard to grasp. How could he be sorry? It wasn’t his fault the cooling fans had ceased to work when you reentered space, no more was it his fault when the hyperdrive followed its path to destruction. He couldn’t have expected it any more than you could, and, in all honesty, if it lead you to this moment, to hear his voice unfiltered, to feel his lips caress your skin, it was more than worth it.

But that intoxicating warmth from his body behind yours, the heat that should have been uncomfortable was dissipating and suddenly a barrage of thoughts came crashing down in your mind. What if he wasn’t apologising about the heat, what if he wasn’t apologising for the torturously slow manner you were creeping towards Nevarro. What if he was apologising for ever so much as thinking of pressing his lips against your heated skin.

Your mouth hung open awkwardly, not able to grasp just what he was apologising for, and leaving too much silence as a lack of response. You could hear him now, gathering the now full canteen, readying to depart once more up the ladder and back to the solitary confinement and safety of the cockpit.

“Wait!” the word escaped you, sharp and far louder than you intended, startling the Mandalorian who was lost in his own thoughts.

The decision was made without conscious thought, in fact, you were as surprised as he to find yourself moving carefully towards him. Your eyes were still closed so tightly it was almost painful, and you could only hope you were going in the right direction as you gingerly took a step forwards.

His movements had stopped, and you took that as a sign that it was alright to continue as you quickly stepped forwards once, twice- your knee hit the corner of a crate. The pain was sharp, aggressive, and every instinct in you wanted to open your eyes, if only to glare at the offending item that had hindered your movement.

But a gentle hand was on your wrist, almost timid in the way he held you now, a silent reminder that he was there. It was enough to pull you from your thoughts, to keep your eyes closed tightly, despite the jeopardy it put you in around the sharp edged crates.

“Ulyc,” the word shouldn’t have sounded as beautiful as it did. It was ugly, coarse and harsh, but his tone was so warm and gentle, as if it had slipped out from him without a seconds thought as he began guiding you around the crate. “Careful,” this time the word was clear, for you, not him. It was subtle and soft, and somehow it matched that odd word perfectly, with just as much care and intent.

But you couldn’t put too much focus on what he had said, not when your senses were currently feeling so very overwhelmed. The heat had already done a number on you hours ago, but now there was so much more to distract you.

The sound of his voice, closer and clearer than it had ever been before almost brought a smile to your lips, and you desperately tried to etch the sound into your memory, to never let the softness of his tone leave you. But it wasn’t the sound of his voice that captured your attention this time, no, it was touch.

His touch.

His hand was still grasped around your wrist, allowing you to hold his wrist in return as he lead you around the sharp corner of the box, and you could feel him. Skin against skin, no gloves holding him back. You could feel the light callouses of his fingertips as they held you, sure but gentle, a guide without force. Warmth, subtler than that of the ship itself, radiating from his touch.

You almost stumbled again as his movements came to a stop before your own, and was that a laugh?

At any other time you might have pouted, crossing your arms before you in mock offence at his finding your stumbling so damned amusing. But his laughter was so rare a treat as it was, and now, without the shield of his helmet between you, without the raspy modulator shifting the tone, you could hear it, soft and sweet, akin to a hum, and you were smiling shyly before him.

“Are you alright?” the question was barely above a whisper, carefully controlled, but still lingering in the air with unwavering care. Oh, how that damned helmet stripped him of such emotion in his voice, how dare it deprive the world of such a gentle tone?

You nodded in reply, suddenly glad for the fact your cheeks were already heated from the overall temperature, and therefore could not give away the additional emotions you felt as his honeyed voice dripped over you.

With one hand still in his, and the other draped over your face in an attempt to cover both your eyes at once, you found yourself at something of a loss. Something would have to give, and while you desperately didn’t want to loss the feeling of his hand against yours, you knew that your other hand’s position was simply too important to adjust.

A slight frown on your features had his heart racing in fear, worried you were now coming to your senses, ready to give him the berating he deserved. His own lips mimicked yours unintentionally, slipping into a frown as his fears began to grow. But he refused to take his eyes off you, refused to lose the sight of you there before him, pure and free.

Your hand began to move against his wrist, and he was ready to drop it, refusing to acknowledge the disappointment already dwelling within him at the slight shift. But your hand did not fall from his, did not even leave his skin. Instead, it traced lightly against his arm, feather light, as light as his own touch had been, as you found your way to his shoulder.

The frown was lifting from both your features, a small smile playing on your lips, curiosity playing on his own as he watched in wonderment, trying to figure out what exactly you were doing. Broad shoulders, strong and stiff under your touch, the feel of his t-shirt gathering and falling under your touch, and then skin once more as you reached his neck.

You could feel his gulp against your hand, the same nerves that had his shoulders so tense now clenching his jaw as you took your time simply feeling him. If you had continued upwards, you might have felt the way his brow had furrowed in confusion and anticipation, might have felt the way his lips had opened in silent question.

But as your hand found his jaw, he found himself nestling into the touch without thought or intent. It felt natural, calming, and suddenly he could understand why it was the child was always craving your touch. If he had craved the feeling of your hand against his beforehand, it was nothing to how he felt now that he had experienced it. It was intoxicating, even in the stifling heat. Addictive and condemning all at once, and he couldn’t seem to control the way his cheek pressed into your hand, especially when he watched the smile on your lips only grow at the action.

You were leaning forwards, following the guidance of your hand, finding him in your temporary blindness through blissful touch, and it was magnificent.

Fears that he would push you away, that he would regret his actions too deeply for you to ever reassure him slowly crept away as he leant into your palm, as his hand that had held yours began to trace its way along your forearm, only to stop uncertainly at your shoulder. He didn’t push you away, didn’t pull you towards him either, he merely held on; letting you control whatever was happening here, and embracing it.

His breath was against your skin, warm and lilting, and before you knew it, it stopped altogether.

Closer than you had ever been before, you paused, careful not to knock into him with your arm still pulled over your eyes, giving him every chance to pull away.

“Don’t you dare apologise,” your words were rushed, but determined, leaving no room for argument. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order, a clear statement that you simply were not accepting such a thing from the man you had come to care so deeply for.

But even with the determination of your words, you still hesitated to move, worried that it was you who were overstepping now.

What if it had simply been an action of no thought? What if he hadn’t apologised for the thought of upsetting you, but rather for ever kissing your bared shoulder in the first place? It was so damn hot, it was hard for you to think straight, what if the same was so for him, and his actions were born not of desire, but a simple lack of thought?

His hand shifted from your shoulder, thumb running over it once in an almost soothing manner, light and careful as were each of his movements in the odd sweltering abyss you found yourselves in. He lifted his touch from you, and you couldn’t help but gulp back the fears the shift brought. But before you could begin to overanalyse, to fear you had overstepped, his hand was back, finding a spot against your waist that felt too perfect. It was warm, his hand only further adding to how your top stuck to the curve of your waist, but you never wanted it to leave. It felt natural there, comforting, reassuring, and simply right.

His thumb moved uncertainly against you, an attempt at reassurance from a man who simply didn’t know how to be reassuring. It was awkward and jilted, but it was genuine, and the attempt had you smiling shyly.

The arm that covered your eyes shifted, your hand moving to cover them instead, to allow more space, and before you had even finished the movement, he was there, taking up the space with those lightning fast reflexes you had come to adore.

His lips found yours fast, so fast that it pulled the breath from you in a rush. It wasn’t sweet and chaste, nor lusty and skilled. There was nothing perfect or refined about it at all, in fact. But his lips were on yours, pulling a searing and fervent kiss from you, eager and awkward, unpracticed and desperate.

You couldn’t help but smile against his lips as you shifted slightly, allowing yourself to find a more comfortable position against him all while kissing back just as eagerly.

It was nothing like you had dreamed, neither romantic nor suave, but it was flooded with raw emotion, with relief and care and an absolute thrill of excitement, and you found yourself losing yourself to the sensation as he relaxed against you.

It wasn’t until you were truly desperate for air that you pulled apart, a goofy grin on your lips that was reflected on his own, unbeknownst to you.

“No apologies,” he agreed with a soft grin of his own as he took in your features leisurely. His forehead came down to press against yours tenderly, his eyes refusing to leave your features for even a second as he seared the blissfully happy sight of you into his memory.

And somehow, even with the heat of his body against yours, with his forehead drenched in sweat that had trapped your hand between you, the heat simply wasn’t as unbearable as it had once seemed, in fact, it barely registered at all.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

TRUE COLORS ~ Ch. 3

You want to start the series? Chapter 1

Pairing: DBH!Connor x OC!Maya

Words: 2325

Warnings: none; Connor is adorable

After another long day at the Chicken Feed truck, Maya was glad to be back home. The neverending rain got replaced by soft falling snow, how it got announced. As she entered her apartment, Maya shook off the snow from her cost and got greeted by the soft female voice of her intercom. A nice warmth and her favorite ambient music were flooding her own four walls. That was home.

The tall skyline of Detroit rose behind the windows, its lights sparkling like million candles in the distance. One by one, Maya switched on small lamps for more indirect light and atmosphere. It was just past eight but already dark. From the right, she heard a low plop.

"Hey, Trevor. You're awake. Good morning, little one.", Maya said and greeted her small, nocturnal gecko in its terrarium. The small creature croaked happily as it saw its owner. Maya sprayed water for more humidity and removed an old leaf.

"It's freezing cold outside. You can be happy to be in there where it is so warm.", she said low, closed the glass door of the terrarium and decided to take a bath. A long, hot bath would be the right thing to end this long work day and to start her evening.

*

"You have a visitor.", the intercom announced. Maya lowered her pencil and looked confused at the digital clock of her stove.

"Now? Who would visit me now?", she asked into the empty apartment. Trevor had no answer. It was past 2 AM and there was no one who would visit her to such an hour except Gary, who would have some kind of trouble. Maya sighed, stood up and answered the door. Surprise wouldn't be even the right choice of word to describe how Maya felt as she opened the door.

"C-Connor? What...what are you doing here?", she asked, still with the handle holding in her hand to close the door whenever necessary.

"Lieutenant Anderson suggested that I shall visit you.", Connor said and looked kinda lost. He had followed Hank’s instructions and yet, it seemed to be wrong again.

"Visit me? Why?", Maya asked puzzled. She watched how Connor, whose hair and shoulders were covered in snow, looked at a point in the distance. His LED flashing yellow.

"To talk about emotions.", Connor answered and looked back at Maya. She knew that she still looked at him with confusion.

"Okay, help me a bit here. I'm confused and have no idea how I could help you. Is it because of your case? Happened something there?", Maya asked directly and noticed how Connor relaxed a bit. That was a field he could control. Suddenly, she felt the coldness of the hallway on her naked feet, so she stepped aside.

"Come in. It's getting cold.", Maya said softly and let the android in, “What happened?”, she asked, closed the door and followed Connor.

"We were chasing two deviants and I...I had trained my gun at them. They were right in front of me but...", Connor started his explanation while he stepped into her living room.

"But you haven’t shot them?", Maya asked as he didn’t end his sentence. She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice but held her breath.

"N-no... I... I couldn't.", Connor answered and looked at the ground while his LED was spinning yellow. Maya released her breath and relaxed. But she was also concerned about the state of the android.

"So, you didn't shoot them and that troubles you?", Maya asked softly. Connor nodded and this time, she gave him the time to speak when he was ready. He stopped at the wall and looked at her paintings.

"I got sent by CyberLife to investigate the spreading deviancy. The phenomenon that androids seem to start to feel. I got programmed to hunt and to stop deviants before it’s too late. To prevent something bad from happening.", he said automatically as if he was just repeating something he had said hundreds of times or what was an essential part of his code.

"But you couldn't shoot the two androids even if they were right in front of you? You acted against your program?", Maya asked, slowly understanding what the android's problem was. Connor was shifting between fulfilling his mission and obviously developing emotions on his own. For him it was problematic to process everything properly. Maya was sure that there was nothing in this world that would be more difficult for him right now.

"I... I don't know how that could happen.", Connor said and looked back at Maya who leant against her couch with her hands shoved into her front pockets.

"Can you tell me more about the androids? Or the case?", Maya asked calmly.

"It were two girls from the Eden Club. One of them killed a guy... accidentally.", Connor answered, remembering the early evening.

"Why did she kill the guy?", Maya asked, now, truly interested. Until now, she had just heard a few rumors about androids developing emotions. But murder was a whole new level.

"She said she was just defending herself as the victim started to hit her. She feared that she would die and so she... She...", Connor said and stopped.

"She defended herself to run away with another android?", Maya asked and connected the dots.

"Yeah... Lieutenant Anderson said the two girls seem to be in ... love.", Connor said and drew his brows together as he processed the said. Since he had started to talk about the case, now, it was the first time where his LED circled rapidly in a blinking yellow and a hint of red. For Maya the indicator that this was his main problem.

"They were in love? And as the one told you why she did it you couldn't shoot her?", Maya asked and Connor nodded. Once again, the android looked through her apartment to distract himself.

Connor scanned the area out of habit. The gecko croaked as it watched, very interested, how the android walked through the apartment. Next to the terrarium was a desk with sketches scattered over it. A bigger pad laid in the middle of the desk. A sketch of a person was drawn but it wasn't finished, just the outlines, so Connor had no idea what it would be later. Next to the desk was a canvas stand with a painting in the making. Several shades of green were smeared across the canvas and created an illusion of depth.

On the wall behind the stand, Connor saw finished, colorful paintings. They were paintings of geckos and plants like copies of the plants that were spread in the apartment. Connor scanned the plants. All of them were real and healthy with the right hydration. Another painting of her gecko hung at the other wall and Connor was looking at it for a few minutes. Maya walked over to him. His LED had calmed down back to blue. She was glad to see the android to be more relaxed again.

"You're very talented. Are you a painter?", Connor asked, looking at Maya with curiosity.

"Yeah... I'm currently studying art to get my bachelor's degree.", Maya said and looked at the painting one last time before she walked over to the couch. She signaled Connor to follow her. Maya sat with crossed legs in one corner of her couch and Connor sat next to her, well-behaved like a kid with his hands folded in his lap and with a straight back.

"So, how I see it, you have troubles processing the fact that you couldn't shoot the deviants how you should have.", Maya said cautiously. Connor nodded but stayed silent.

"Was it a conscious decision you made?", she asked further. Minutes were ticking by before Connor looked up at her. His brown eyes looked soft but sad. His face held a confused expression. Maya laid her hand reassuring on his arm and she noticed how his LED circled yellow. Maybe processing her question or her touch.

"Take your time to answer. We have all the time in the world.", Maya said low and softly with a smile.

"It was a decision I made. I decided not to shoot because...", Connor admitted finally.

"Because?", Maya asked softly. Connor looked from her hand into her eyes.

"I saw no reason. I knew I had to shoot them because my program, my mission, demanded it but I... I didn't want to.", Connor admitted low and blinked several times as he realized what he had said. Maya smiled softly at him.

"You made a decision on your own, Connor. It was your own decision to spare these girls because their death wasn't helpful for your mission."

"But I.. that must not be! I have to fulfill my mission to stop the deviants.", Connor said troubled.

"I'm convinced you will be able to find a way to solve this case without killing someone. There is always an alternative. To spare someone's life is always better.", Maya said and watched how Connor calmed down. His LED turned from yellow back to blue and slowed down.

"You said something about love earlier.", Maya asked and tried to guide the conversation to the next important topic. The reason why Hank had sent this android to her in the middle of the night.

"Y-yeah... Hank said the androids, the two girls, would be in love.", Connor explained and looked confused again. For Maya, he looked totally cute like this but she had to focus back on the current situation to keep a clear mind.

"You now, love is a good thing. There is no need to stop it. Love is the biggest power in this world.", Maya tried to explain a complex emotion.

"But they're androids. They don't really feel something. Their emotions are just errors in their software. They're emulating them.", Connor said, what sounded more like instructions in a manual.

"Do you really think that?", Maya asked, interested in his answer. There was something in his eyes that betrayed him.

"I.. yes.", Connor said but Maya saw the insecurity in his eyes. It had been a mechanical, programmed answer which would come automatically.

"What is love?", Connor asked suddenly.

"Oh, uhm... you can't explain that easily but I will try it. Love connects people in a powerful way. There is the bond between parents and their kids. Between siblings and of course, between two people in a relationship. When you love someone, they are the first thought in the morning when you wake up and the last before you fall asleep. You are willing to do anything for the one you love. Sometimes you fear to lose them because without them you wouldn't feel complete. There are people who would die to save the one they love. Or kill each other because they can't be together like Romeo and Juliet.", Maya tried to explain as best as possible. Love was a complex structure which wasn't easy to explain within a few minutes.

"That's a dramatic reaction.", Connor said serious as he processed the information.

"Love can be magnificent...or even disastrous. But if you love, you know that because the other person is everything you can think of. They matter more than your own life and you just want to be with them. Suddenly, there is someone in your life who seemed to be more important than yourself.", Maya closed her explanation. Connor inclined his head to one side.

"Have you ever been in love?", he asked interested. Maya was friendly and calm and the complete difference to all the humans he had met so far. He watched her bright eyes sparkling in the half dark and her hair falling over her shoulders like soft waves. For the first time, he noticed such things on someone else.

‘Software instability��’, the note popped up in front of his eyes.

"Oh… uhm…not really...not how I have explained it but in some way...yeah-", Maya explained stammering.

"But you're alone, aren't you? Or do you have a partner at the moment?", Connor asked further. Now, more interested in her than before.

‘Software instability…’, once again the note was showing up.

"No, I.. I'm single, at the moment. I had a few relationships but nothing too serious.", Maya answered, shifting uncomfortably.

"Haven't you loved them enough that they left?", Connor asked and Maya felt more uncomfortable under his intense glance which was innocent at the same time. She understood that Connor was like a child at this point. If he wanted to understand, he had to ask questions that came to his mind.

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple. There are different factors for people to stay together and sometimes... it's not enough to love each other. Sometimes even loving someone isn't enough that a relationship works out.", Maya tried to explain but she saw that Connor had difficulties to follow.

"Okay, look, I will try to explain it to you.", Maya changed her sitting position closer to Connor. He followed her lead and it seemed that he made himself more comfortable.

***

As she awoke, Maya realized that she must have fallen asleep on the couch. Slowly, she remembered how she had tried to explain love to an android the whole night. As she sat up, Maya noticed the blanket covering her.

"Connor?", she asked sleepy into the apartment but there was no response. She wasn't surprised but she smiled softly about the memories of how they had talked until she had fallen asleep against Connor's shoulder in the early morning hours.

Feeling wonderful, Maya pulled the blanket closer to her chest to keep the warmth a moment longer. That was it that a small piece of paper fell to the ground. Maya leant forward to collect it. It was just a small note but the words let her smile:

I had to leave and I didn't want to wake you. Thank you for … everything!

[marshmallow-phd]

Between the Pages

Genre: Vampire!AU

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

A/N: This one was fun. And writing for Taemin is making me what to do it again! 

**

The library was quiet – as it should be. Despite the dozen or so people scattered about in the evening hours, you were able to drift in and out of the aisles without any problems. Occasionally, you would stop and inspect a spine that caught your eye, making sure it was in its proper place before moving on to the next shelf. You had a small pile of books in your arms that were needing to find their homes again. Motivation to do much else was lost on you at the moment. As much as you loved your job, your mind was more preoccupied with what was waiting for you afterwards.

“Do you know where the Shakespeare books are?”

“Shoot!” you squealed way too loudly for a librarian. The familiar laugh made you whirl around. Taemin was leaning up against the shelf of books, arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. You, however, did not find it as amusing. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The vampire shrugged. “Last I checked, this wasn’t sacred ground.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your work. “Whatever ground you walk on is immediately de-sacred-fied.”

“I may not be as smart as you, but I’m sure that’s not a word.”

You looked back at him over your shoulder as you tried to hold back a laugh you knew would be breaking the volume rule. “You’d think a three-hundred-year-old vampire would be extremely intelligent.”

Taemin pushed off the shelf and stalked towards, his hands now behind his back. He came close to you, enough to make your own shoulder blades bump into the innocent books behind you. “Sorry,” he said without an ounce of sincerity. “I spent my time practicing other… things.”

You could already feel the heat exploding in your cheeks and your heart speeding up in your chest from the embarrassment. You hated when he did that. It was all on purpose, toeing the line of innuendoes. He said he did it because it reminded him of how human you were; the reactions your body had to his presence drew him in – not to quench his everlasting thirst, but to explore the meaning of being human himself again.

There were times he made you feel as cliché as the heroines in the supernatural section: the unassuming female lead, quiet, unadventurous, nose always in a book. You were a librarian, for Pete’s sake. And not even the cool Noah Wyle-type where you went around the world finding ancient artifacts and saving humanity from an evil villain (usually scared or tattooed) who wanted to use the artifact for his own nefarious purposes.

Instead, you were the protector of plastic-covered books and keeper of late fees. (Yes, there was much more to your job than that and you absolutely loved it, but that was beside the point.) Compared to the extended life Taemin had lived… you were a little boring.

“Come back,” his voice whispered in your ear, making you jump. He chuckled at your startled expression and you resisted the urge to punch his arm. It wouldn’t inflict any level of pain on him anyway. “You were doing it again,” he teased. “Spacing out.”

“Sorry,” you murmured. It tended to happen, your mind wandering down paths and blocking out reality at the most inconvenient times. Taemin, however, was used to it by now.

He shook his head at you. “Don’t be. You’re cute when you do that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You say that about everything I do.”

“Because it’s true.” Locking you in with his gaze, he leaned in until the tips of your noses were just a hair’s breadth apart. His voice was low, almost to the point of in audible as he said, “Come with me.”

“No,” you said back with almost no fight. “I can’t just leave work.”

“You won’t be leaving building.”

Oh, no. You knew that look. That gleam in his eye compared with the smile that was just a little too innocent. His mind had already conjured up a scheme that you would be against before he could get one word out.

“Taemin, no-”

Too late.

He already had you scooped up in his arms and blurring by the bookshelves. The “employees only” door near the back of the library didn’t hinder him at all, making it through with a quick swipe of your badge that hung from your waist. He continued up the stairs even as they turned from polished marble to rickety wood under his feet, his steps so light they hardly made a sound. In the span of perhaps thirty seconds or so, he’d taken you from the first floor non-fiction section all the way up to the bell tower balcony outside.

The wind was stronger up here, less hindered by the other buildings of the city. Low in the sky, the sun continued to shine on the orange and blue canvas. Taemin set you back down on your feet, but you still clung to his side with as tight of a grip you could muster. As beautiful as the scene was, you had a horrible fear of heights. Taemin knew this about you, yet he still brought you all the way up here.

“It’s okay,” he giggled. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Why did he always find your scared moments so amusing? Was it a vampire thing?

“Why did you bring me up here?” you asked out loud.

“Because I wanted you to see the sunset.” With his cold hand he took ahold of yours while wrapping his other arm behind the small of your back. For a moment, you thought he was going to start waltzing with you though there was no music, but he didn’t move. He kept staring out at the small strip of sun still visible on the horizon.

This was the only time of day that he could be out, the only time where the sun’s rays wouldn’t disintegrate him into ash. Out of all the myths about vampires that weren’t true – the garlic, the mirrors, the coffins – you really wished that one was on the list. You wanted to see the world with him, see it through his eyes, but during the day, where you believed it was at its most beautiful. But he could never do that. Not without risking goodbye the forever kind of way.

“I’ve seen it before,” you sighed.

“But I want you to really look at it.”

Turning away from it completely, you looked Taemin in the eyes. They were bright red, telling you he’d recently fed. “Why?” you demanded. “What’s so important about it?”

“Because I want you to know how I see you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. He was hardly ever serious, at least not with you, not in the time that you’d known him. Even on the night you’d met, despite how scary it had been for you, he was smiling and joking in an effort to put you more at ease.

Letting go of your hand, he reached out and caressed your cheek with his cool thumb.

“You’ve been crying in your sleep lately,” he confessed. “At first I thought you were having nightmares about him again.”

You shuddered at the memory of the vampire who’d decided to make you his next meal. That was back before you knew about the supernatural, back when it all was still fairytales put to paper. Taemin had saved you that night, but even if you felt secure and protected with him, he couldn’t frighten away the nightmares. Thinking back, though, you hadn’t dreamt about him in a long time. You shook your head, “I don’t understand.”

“You started talking in your sleep,” he explained, a sadness filling his eyes that broke your own heart. “Saying things like not being good enough or being unworthy. Once you asked me how I could stay with you.” Closing his eyes, he came forward and nudged your nose with his own. “You silly little creature. How could you not see yourself as I do?”

“But-”

Taemin stopped you with his ice cold lips, pressing them into yours to push back the argument that was brewing inside. He pinned you in between him and the brick wall of the tower. While he usual kisses with you were softer, gentler in fear of accidentally hurting you, this one was more aggressive, releasing all that he normally held back. He broke away from your lips to move down to your jaw and then your neck. Against your skin, you felt his fangs grow long and sharp. You accidentally let out a squeak, stopping him. When he pulled away, you bit your bottom lip guilty.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he smiled as he cupped your jaw with his hands. “I got a little carried away, that’s all. But do you see it now? How worth it you are?”

No, not entirely. There was still that seed of doubt, but you were sure it would always be there. There was an imbalance between you and Taemin, the kind that could only be fixed in one way. And you were nowhere near ready for that step. There were too many human things you wanted to do, too many days in the sun that you weren’t able to give up yet. But, for now at least, you could push that all away. You nodded reassuringly at him.

“Good,” he beamed, happy to see you smiling up at him. “Because you’re mine. Forever.”

[carolinabronova]

Songs.

30 Seconds To Mars The Kill (Burry Me)

99 Souls The Girl Is Mine (ft. Destiny’s Child)

ABBA Lay All Your Love On Me

Adam Lambert Fever If I Had You

Adele Chasing Pavements Rolling In The Deep Send My Love Someone Like You When We Were Young

A-ha Take On Me

Akon Don’t Matter I Wanna Love You (ft. Snoop Dogg)

Alicia Keys If I Ain’t Got You No One

All Angels The Scientist

Ana Carolina É Isso Aí (ft. Seu Jorge)

Angus & Julia Stone A Heartbreak Big Jet Plane Big Jet Plane (Acoustic) Draw Your Swords Just A Boy Paper Aeroplane Yellow Brick Road

A Perfect Circle Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm Of The War Drums

Arctic Monkeys 505 Brianstorm Do I Wanna Know? Fluorescent Adolescent I Wanna Be Yours One For The Road R U Mine? Stop The World Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Aretha Franklin Say A Little Prayer

Ariana & The Rose In Your Bed (Kevin Drew Remix)

Ariana Grande Almost Is Never Enough Bad Decisions Be Alright Be My Baby Best Mistake Dangerous Woman Everyday (ft. Future) Greedy Into You Jason’s Song (Gave It Away) One Last Time Right There (ft. Big Sean) Side To Side Sometimes

Athlete Rubik’s Cube

Austin Manuel I Just Want You To Love Me

Backstreet Boys If You Want It To Be Good Girl (Get Yourself A Bad Boy) I Want It That Way

Banks Drowning

Bee Gees How Deep Is Your Love More Than A Woman Too Much Heaven Tragedy

Ben E. King Stand By Me

Beyoncé 7/11 Baby Boy (ft. Sean Paul) Best Thing I Never Had Blow Countdown Drunk In Love Ego Formation Hold Up Love On Top Partition Sandcastles Sorry

Biel Demorô

Black Keys Howlin’ For You

Blue Öyster Cult Burnin’ For You (Don’t Fear) The Reaper

BoA Eat You Up

B.o.B So Good

Bon Iver Creature Fear Perth

Bonnie Raitt Can’t Make You Love Me

Bonnie Tyler Total Eclipse Of The Heart

Breaking Benjamin I Will Not Bow

Bright Eyes First Day Of My Life

Britney Spears 3

Bruce Springsteen Dancing In The Dark

Bruno Mars 24k Magic Calling All My Lovelies Chunky Gorilla (ft. Pharell Williams and R.Kelly) Locked Out Of Heaven Talking To The Moon That’s What I Like Treasure When I Was Your Man

Bryan Adams Heaven

Calvin Harris Feels (ft. Pharrell Williams, Katy Perry and Big Sean) This Is What You Came For (ft. Rihanna)

Camila Cabello Havana (ft. Young Thug)

Captain & Tennille Love Will Keep Us Together

Carly Rae Jepsen Run Away With Me Your Type

Cary Brothers Loneliest Girl In The World

Cash Cash Overtime

Charlie Brown Jr. Me Encontra

Charlie Puth Attention How Long Marvin Gaye (ft. Meghan Trainor)

Charli XCX Boys

Cheat Codes Let Me Hold You

Chet Baker My Funny Valentine

Chris Brown Liquor Show Me (ft. Kid Ink) Strip Take You Down

Christina Grimmie Must Be Love

Christina Perri distance

Chromeo Come Alive (ft. Toro Y Moi)

Ciara Body Party

City And Colour The Girl

Claudinho & Bochecha Fico Assim Sem Você Quero Te Encontrar

Clean Bandit Tears (ft. Louisa Johnson)

Coldplay Charlie Brown Hymn For The Weekend (ft. Beyoncé) Swallowed In The Sea Violet Hills Viva La Vida

Colbie Caillat Bubbly

Counting Crows Accidentally In Love

Cyndi Lauper Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Time After Time

Daft Punk Around The World Digital Love Harder Better Faster Stronger Lose Yourself To Dance One More Time Something About Us Technologic

Damien Rice 9 Crimes Delicate Rootless Tree The Blower’s Daughter

Danni Carlos Coisas Que Eu Sei

Daughter Landfill Medicine Run Touch

David Guetta Bad (ft. Vassy)

Dawin Dessert (ft. Silento)

Demi Lovato Sorry Not Sorry Stone Cold

Destiny’s Child Bills, Bills, Bills Bootylicious Independent Women Say My Name

Disclosure Latch (ft. Sam Smith)

DJ Snake Leon On (ft. MØ and Major Lazer) Middle

DNCE Cake By The Ocean

Drake Fake Love Hold On We’re Going Home How About Now Marvin’s Room One Dance Passionfruit Too Good (ft. Rihanna)

Dua Lipa New Rules

Duke Dumont Ocean Drive

Earth, Wind & Fire After The Love Has Gone Boogie Wonderland Fantasy Let’s Groove September

Eden Project drowning.

Ed Sheeran Cold Coffee Drunk Give Me Love Grade 8 I’m A Mess Kiss Me Little Bird One Night She Small Bump U.N.I The Man Wake Me Up

Ellie Goulding Love Me Like You Do On My Mind

Elvis Presley Can’t Help Falling In Love Suspicious Minds (You’re The) Devil In Disguise

Erasure A Little Respect

Escape The Fate Zombie Dance

Etha Franklin At Last

Evanescence My Immortal

Fetty Wap 679 (ft. Remy Boyz) Again My Way (ft. Monty) Trap Queen

Fifth Harmony All In My Head (Flex) (ft. Fetty Wap)

Flight Facilities Crave You Crave You (Adventure Club Remix)

Florence + The Machine Cosmic Love Caught Drumming Song Never Let Me Go Seven Devils

Flo Rida I Cry

Francoise Hardy Voila

Frank Sinatra Fly Me To The Moon If I Had You Moon River

Gabrielle Aplin Home Please Don’t Say You Love Me Start Of Time

G-Eazy F**k With U (ft. Pia Mia) Lady Killers (ft. Hoodie Allen)

George Martin Pepperland - Remastered

Gilberto Girl Vamos Fugir (Gimme Your Love)

Glen Hansard All The Way Down Falling Slowly Lies Say It To Me Now

Grayscale Palette

Gym Class Heroes Cupid’s Chokehold

Halsey Gasoline

Hozier Someone New Take Me To Church

Hudson Thames How I Want Ya

Hurts Illuminated Somebody To Die For Stay Unspoken

Ingrid Michaelson Can’t Help Falling In Love You And I

Iron & Wine Flightless Bird, American Mouth

Israel Novaes Vem Ni Mim Dodge Ram

Ivete Sangalo Quando A Chuva Passar Se Eu Não Te Amasse Tanto Assim

James Blunt You’re Beautiful

Jammil Praieiro

Jeff Buckley Hallelujah

Jeremih oui

João Bosco E Vinícius Chora Me Liga

Joe Walsh Turn To Stone

John Mayer Free Fallin’ Gravity Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

Johnny Cash Hurt

JoJo Beautiful Girls

Jon Secada If I Never Knew You (ft. Shanice)

Jordan Fisher All About Us

Jorge Vercilo Que Nem Maré

Jota Quest Blecaute (ft. Anitta and Nite Rodgers)

Justin Timberlake My Love (ft. T.I) Summer Love

Kanye West Bound 2 Power

Kate Nash Nicest Thing

Katy Perry Birthday

Kendrick Lamar DNA King Kunta Loyalty (ft. Rihanna) Poetic Justice (ft. Drake)

Kid Abelha Como Eu Quero

Kina Grannis Valentine

Kings Of Leon Pyro Sex On Fire

Kodaline All I Want

Kyle Edwards Starboy (Harder Better Faster Stronger Jersey Club)

Labrinth Jealous

Lady Gaga Bad Romance Do What U Want (ft. R.Kelly) Edge Of Glory G.U.Y Just Dance Marry The Night Million Reasons Monster Perfect Illusion Speechless The Cure You & I

Lana Del Rey Born To Die Dark Paradise Freak High By The Beach Love Religion Ridin’ (ft. A$AP Rocky) Sad Girl Serial Killer Video Games West Coast Young And Beautiful

Lauren Aquilina Wonder

Leonard Cohen Hallelujah

Leona Lewis Bleeding Love

Lil Dicky Lemme Freak

Lil Wayne 6 Foot 7 Foot

Linda Ronstadt I Will Always Love You

Lionel Richie Just Go (ft. Akon)

Lissie Everywhere I Go

Little Big Town Girl Crush

Los Hermanos Anna Julia

LS Jack Ô Carla

Lulu Santos Como Uma Onda Sereia

Lykke Li I Follow Rivers Until We Bleed

M83 My Tears Are Becoming A Sea

Madonna Material Girl

Maiara & Maraisa Medo Bobo

Mariah Carey #Beautiful (ft. Miguel) Emotions Obsessed Touch My Body We Belong Together

Marianas Trench Haven’t Had Enough

Marina & The Diamonds How To Be A Heartbreaker Oh No! Primadonna Teen Idle

Marisa Monte Depois

Maroon 5 Feelings Makes Me Wonder Stutter What Lovers Do

Marvin Gaye Sexual Healing

Maskavo Um Anjo Do Céu

Matthew Perryman Jones Only You

MC G15 Deu Onda

MC Leozinho Se Ela Dança, Eu Danço

MC Marcinho Glamurosa

Michael Sembello Maniac

Miguel Adorn coffee Simple Things Sure Thing

Mike Posner Cooler Than Me I Took A Pill In Ibiza Looks Like Sex

Miley Cyrus 23 (ft. Mike Will Made It, Wiz Khalifa and Juicy J) Wrecking Ball

MKTO Classic

MØ Fire Rides - Night Version

Mumford And Sons Little Lion Man Sigh No More White Blank Page

Muse Neutron Star Collision Plug In Baby Resistance Starlight Supermassive Black Hole Undisclosed Desires

My Chemical Romance Helena (So Long & Goodnight) I Don’t Love You The Light Behind Your Eyes

Natalie La Rose Somebody (ft. Jeremih)

Natiruts Me Namora

Nelly Dilemma (ft. Kelly Rowland)

Neon Trees Animal Everybody Talks Mad Love

Ne-yo Closer

NF Got You On My Mind

Niall Horan Slow Hands

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds O Children

Nick Jonas Jealous Teacher Wilderness

Nigahiga Bromance (ft. Chester See) Nice Guys (ft. Chester See and KevJumba)

Ninja Sex Party FYI I Wanna F Your A Peppermint Creams Sex Training The Decision

Oasis Wonderwall

Olivver The Kid Attica ‘71

Olly Murs Dance With Me Tonight Kiss Me

Omarion Post To Be (ft. Chris Brown and Jhené Aiko)

One Direction Fireproof Happily Night Changes No Control Perfect Stockholm Sydrome Strong You & I

Outkast Hey Ya!

Panic! At The Disco Death Of A Bachelor Nine In The Afternoon

Papas Da Língua Eu Sei

Paramore Ain’t It Fun Misery Business Still Into You

Passanger Let Her Go

Paula Fernandes Não Precisa (ft. Victor e Leo)

P.Diddy Last Night (ft. Keyshia Cole)

Pentatonix Can’t Sleep Love Fantasy I Need Your Love La La Latch Love Again Natural Disaster

Pink F*cking Perfect Please Don’t Leave Me Sober So What Who Knew

Player Baby Come Back

Post Malone Rockstar

Psirico Lepo Lepo

R5 Dark Side

Rae Sremmurd Black Beatles

Raleigh Ritchie Bloodsport

Redfoo New Thang

Rich Homie Quan Flex (Ooh, ooh, ooh)

Richie Campbell Do You No Wrong

Rihanna Can’t Remember To Forget You (ft. Shakira) Don’t Stop The Music FourFiveSeconds (ft. Kanye West and Paul McCartney) Love On The Brain Needed Me Russian Roulette Te Amo Unfaithful Where Have You Been Wild Thoughts (ft. DJ Khaled and Bryson Tiller)

Rise Against Savior

Roberta Campos Minha Felicidade

Robin Thicke Get Her Back

Robot Koch Nitesky (ft. John Lamonica)

Ryan Adams Wonderwall

Sam Smith Nirvana Palace

Sarah Jaffe Clementine

Scorpions Rock You Like A Hurricane

Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox Stacy’s Mom

Scouting For Girls Heartbeat

Seal Kiss From A Rose

Selena Gomez Bad Liar Fetish (ft. Gucci Mane) Good For You Hands To Myself Perfect Wolves (ft. Marshmellow)

Seu Jorge Carolina Mina Do Condomínio

Shania Twain From This Moment On Man! I Feel Like A Woman You’re Still The One

Shawn Mendes There’s Nothing Holding Me Back

Shura Touch (Canvas Remix)

Sia Cheap Thrills Elastic Heart

Simon & Garfunkel Bridge Over Troubled Water

Skank Ainda Gosto Dela Tão Seu Vamos Fugir Vou Deixar

Sleeping At Last As Long As You Love Me Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic Venus

Snoop Dogg Sensual Seduction

Stevie Nicks Edge Of Seventeen

Stevie Wonder Isn’t She Lovely

Story Of The Year Until The Day I Die

Talking Heads Psycho Killers

Taylor Swift Blank Space Love Story Safe And Sound (ft. The Civil Wars) Style Wildest Dreams

Tears For Fears Everybody Wants To Rule The World

The 1975 Chocolate FallingForYou Somebody Else UGH! The Sound

The Archies Sugar, Sugar

The Barr Brothers May 4th

The Bird And The Bee How Deep Is Your Love

The Black Eyed Peas Meet Me Halfway

The Black Keys Howlin’ For You

The Beach Boys Good Vibrations Wouldn’t It Be Nice

The Beatles Hey Jude Yesterday

The Black Eyed Peas Meet Me Halfway

The Cataracs Ready 4 The Weekend (ft. Icona Pop)

The Civil Wars Poison And Wine

The Cure Boys Don’t Cry

The Glitch Mob Between Two Points (ft. Swan)

The Irrepressibles In This Shirt

The Jackson 5 I Want You Back

The Killers Human Somebody Told Me When You Were Young

The Last Shadow Puppets Miracle Aligner

The Lonely Island 3-Way (The Golden Rule) I’m So Humble (ft. Adam Levine) Jizz In My Pants Spring Break Anthem

The Maine I Must Be Dreaming Into Your Arms

The Middle East Blood

The Neighbourhood Daddy Issues #icanteven (ft. French Montana)

The Platters Only You (And You Alone)

The Police Every Breath You Take Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic Roxanne

The Pretty Reckless You Zombie

The Script Breakeven

The Turtles Happy Together

The Weeknd Acquainted A Lonely Night Earned It I Feel It Coming Often Or Nah (Stwo Remix) Starboy The Hills Wicked Games

The White Strips Seven Nation Army

The Zombies Time Of The Season

T.I Whatever You Like

Tim Maia Descobridor Dos Sete Mares Gostava Tanto De Você Não Quero Dinheiro (Só Quero Amar)

Tinashe Superlove Quit You (ft. Lost Kings)

Tom Odell Can’t Pretend

Toni Braxton Un-Break My Heart

Toto Africa

Tove Lo Cool Girl

Tribalistas Aliança Já Sei Namorar Velha Infância

Troye Sivan Fools for him. Wild (ft. Alessia Cara)

U2 One (ft. Mary J Blidge)

Usher DJ Got Us Fallin In Love Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) U Remind Me

Van Halen Why Can’t This Be Love

Vinicius Cantuária Só Você

Wesley Safadão Aquele 1% (ft. Marcos & Belutti) Camarote

What So Not Jaguar

Whitney Houston I Have Nothing I Wanna Dance With Somebody I Will Always Love You

xxyyxx About You

War Why Can’t We Be Friends

Yvonne Elliman If I Can’t Have You

Zara Larsson Ain’t My Fault I Would Like So Good

Zella Day Hypnotic (Vanic Remix)

[impracticaldemon]

Nalu Week 2017 Day 5: He Sees Beneath Her Mask

A/Note: I wasn't able to write as much as I wanted for NaluWeek2017, but here is my third story, using the prompt for Day 5: Mask Day

The story is set in a kind of early 90s university AU, but the concepts and characters are mostly canon. I hope you enjoy it!

Words ~ 2300 | Also available now on FFN and AO3 (Impracticaldemon)

He Sees Beneath Her Mask Prompt: Mask Day

Lucy's first day of university was unremarkable—at least, it was unremarkable if you were the sole heiress to the Heartfilia fortune and used to your father being far more concerned than you were about outward appearances. In the midst of rushing walkers and bikers of all descriptions, Lucy was ushered onto the sidewalk in front of the registration building by the reliable, middle-aged chauffeur whom she'd known for years. While the majority of the students around her wore t-shirts of all descriptions paired with "lived-in" looking jeans, Lucy looked trim and demure in a crisp white blouse, perfectly-tailored navy capris, and pretty, matching sandals. She had the kind of accessories that didn't need a logo to tell you that they were expensive.

Her father didn't get out—he was already taking time out of his busy day to ensure that Lucy arrived on time and in proper style—but he did roll down his window and briefly clasp Lucy's hand. His words of farewell were more admonishing than encouraging, however:

"I'm still not sure about this place, Lucy, so remember our bargain: you can go here as long as you don't let yourself get dragged into any trouble by some of the weirder types you sometimes seem to hang out with—and as long as you meet your social obligations for the family and the company."

"Yes, Father. I understand. And I haven't forgotten next week's charity ball on Thursday evening." Lucy's serious, deep brown eyes stayed focused on her father, despite the stares she could feel from her soon-to-be classmates, especially the girls—women, she corrected herself silently.

Jude Heartfilia accepted Lucy's assurances, cast a last, scathing look at the chattering, excited students, and waved the chauffeur back to the car. He managed a tight, unconvincing smile for his daughter, and then put up his window and leaned back in his seat, a big, shadowy figure behind the tinted glass. Lucy's smile in return was more convincing and yet somehow also sad. She watched the big car glide away, and as soon as it had disappeared around a corner she sighed, squared her shoulders, and turned to hurry toward the registration area. Unfortunately, she stepped right into somebody's path—although 'trajectory' might have been a more accurate word.

"Ow! Sorry!" Only long years of dance and gymnastics kept Lucy upright.

"Hey—look where you're going!" cried the human missile, as he spun around with Lucy in a rather tight, although apparently unintended embrace. He was more agile than he seemed, though; he didn't stagger as they parted, and his hand under her elbow helped her own efforts at balance.

Not surprisingly, they eyed each other curiously once the world stopped spinning. The human missile was actually a young man of medium height and decidedly athletic build, with spiky, cotton-candy pink hair, dark grey-green eyes, and a dusting of freckles. Lucy saw the dark eyes widen slightly as he examined her in turn. The clothes and shoes and so on were bad enough, she thought, but anybody would stare at her up-swept golden hair, which had been formed into a perfect chignon at the back. It was very pretty—and made her look like a 1940s actress at an evening party rather than a regular university student of many, many decades later.

"Are you going in to register?" Lucy asked, determined to be friendly and polite.

"Huh? Oh, yeah—I think so?" The pink-haired guy ran a hand through his spiky locks and then grinned cheerfully. "I mean yeah, yeah I am! That's a pretty good hairstyle—is it a new thing? I'll bet you could hide notes and weapons and stuff in it!"

From behind Pink-and-Spiky, a slightly taller, leaner man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "idiot". Lucy realized that she hadn't even noticed the second man, and then flushed slightly when she realized that he was wearing cargo pants belted loose over boxers and not much else. He was a bit less odd than Pinky—Lucy had a tendency to first give and then refine nicknames—but he also seemed slightly dangerous. Maybe it was the stylized bird tattoo on the right side of his chest, or his very dark eyes and hair. If I wrote these two into a story, he'd be Emo-Guy for sure. I'll bet he broods well. And Pinky would be Leaps-Before-Looking-Guy or Runs-Into-Trouble-But-Likes-It-Guy. They're both pretty attractive though.

"I can hear you, you know," Pinky said to Dark-and-Tattooed. Lucy jumped slightly: for a moment she'd thought he'd heard what she was thinking.

"I wouldn't bother to call you an idiot if you couldn't hear me," retorted D-and-T. He held out a hand to Lucy, and gave her a small, but apparently genuine smile. "I'm Gray. Flamebrain here is Natsu. We're in second year, but our friend Erza asked us to help out with registration—she runs the welcome table where you pick up your registration kits."

Gray's handshake was firm and literally cool, despite the warm sun. He was immediately elbowed out of the way by Pinky/Natsu. "Yeah, it gets us out of this afternoon's mega-line-ups with the general upper-year registration crowd," he told her. "Can't wait until everything's completely automated."

"Like that'll help you," scoffed Gray. "You're still in trouble for trying to hit a campus computer last year because it said your code had errors. Good thing Erza was there to stop you."

Lucy jumped in before things could escalate.

"Oh… Well, um, I'm Lucy—nice to meet you. Both of you." Natsu's hand was dry and calloused, without a hint of sweat. In fact, he seemed impervious to the heat, although wearing a white Fairy Tail U scarf wound loosely around his neck seemed excessive. Sometimes Lucy thought it was her fate to meet the strangest people at any given location. Then again, she was okay with that.

After a few more courtesies (cut short by Natsu "accidentally" stepping on Gray's foot) and a few more discourtesies (cut short by Lucy with the tact of one forced young into the cut-throat politics of charitable fund-raising), the three of them went in. Erza turned out to be a rather frighteningly helpful third year with honest-to-goodness red (not orange or auburn) hair. These people apparently spent a fortune on hair dye. Lucy had meant to change as soon as her father had left, and before talking to anyone, but fate and Natsu had conspired against her. One look at Erza's face told Lucy that she'd been recognized. The upper-year didn't say anything though; instead, she made Lucy's day by handing over her registration package without calling out her last name.

"Is-is there a washroom nearby?" Lucy asked, heartened by this kindness.

Erza was getting both guys set up with registration packages (and smacking them upside the head for hitting each other, which Lucy found slightly counter-productive as an example of good behaviour). She nodded at a doorway and said: "Down that hall, first door on the right.

When Lucy slipped back into the room several minutes later, she went quietly to the back of the registration line without speaking further with the upper-years. After all, Gray, Natsu and Erza were obviously friends of long-standing. In fact, Lucy had already realized that Erza was a well-known student leader and a competitive athlete of national standing—she should have recognized the name sooner. That probably meant that Gray and Natsu were just as important within the school community. Lucy didn't want it to seem as though she was presuming upon her chance encounter with Natsu earlier. He'd seemed very nice, though; she hoped that maybe she could find a way to get to know him better by proving herself as an up-and-coming Fairy Tail student. There was something about Natsu's grin that somehow stood out even more than the pink hair.

Lucy drew no attention at all as she patiently waited her turn, clutching at the key forms from her registration package. She was now wearing slightly worn cut-offs, a cute, rose-pink t-shirt, and the current popular choice in (cheap) canvas running shoes. The bracelet on one wrist was pretty, but not expensive. She had also managed to extract all hundred or so bobby pins from her hair (only a minor exaggeration!). After a moment's thought, she had decided to put most of her hair into twin-tails in order to beat the heat; she left her long bangs and a few other locks to frame her face, in order to escape from her overly-sophisticated "matchy-matchy girl" appearance of earlier.

When somebody jostled her slightly—clearly by accident—she decided to try out her new-found anonymity. She turned and smiled brightly.

"Kind of brutal in here isn't it?" she said to the pretty, dark-haired girl—woman—behind her.

"Yeah, seriously."

They exchanged the conspiratorial grimaces of strangers commiserating over shared misfortune.

"I'm Lucy—I'm taking English with a focus on creative writing."

"Oh hey—me too! I'm Evelyn. Nice to meet you, Lucy! Sorry about bumping you—gotta admit, I was admiring your bag. It looks like it won't fall apart like my 'student special' here."

"Well, um, yeah… it was a present from my… dad. He believes in practical gifts and things that keep their value and functionality." Ev laughed and Lucy relaxed. Switching clothes was one thing, but the expensive leather schoolbag was actually something she'd chosen and liked, even though she realized most normal students couldn't afford it.

Lucy wasn't used to referring to her father as "dad"; she have to work on that (though not with the man himself). And technically he had bought the bag for her. Her mother's estate provided her with a moderate allowance, but since her father had either inherited or managed the bulk of Layla Heartfilia's money and business interests, he paid for all of Lucy's living expenses. In a bid to retain as much independence as possible, Lucy had learned how to make her allowance stretch without being too obvious, which provided her with less expensive, more normal clothes and paid for the occasional unsupervised outing.

She had only been chatting with her new friend for a few minutes when she spotted a familiar head of pink hair weaving through the crowd toward them. Her first thought was that it was a coincidence, since she now looked very different—and why would Natsu be looking for her anyway? Once or twice she saw Natsu pause for a moment and wrinkle his nose, as if to sneeze, but otherwise nothing interrupted his brisk stride directly to where she was standing (well, there were people in the way, but most of them moved as he approached).

"Hey Lucy! You didn't come back to the table! We could've helped you register you know… Oh, is this a friend of yours?" Natsu didn't even seem to notice that Lucy looked entirely different now. Or if he did he didn't comment.

Somehow—Lucy couldn't quite fathom it—Natsu convinced her to leave the line (she'd already traded numbers with Ev) and come back to the table for registration packages. Partway there, he slowed down a little and started to frown.

"Lucy? Did you change something? Erza said you'd probably gone to put on your mask—or take off your mask, I can't remember which. You seem pretty much the same to me." He came to a full stop right in the middle of the room and squinted at Lucy. Then he started to walk around her, checking her out from all angles. "Heh. Well, it's good to see Erza wrong for once! And Gray backed her up, too! This'll be great!"

"Wait! Natsu!" Lucy tried to pull away, but her escort seemed very determined.

When they arrived, Natsu slung his arm around Lucy's shoulders. "See Erza! No masks! I don't know how she slipped by Gray! You going blind or something, bro?"

Lucy found herself turning a little red. Natsu's arm was heavy and warm, but also comforting and even pleasant, despite the sticky weather. Erza gave her a sympathetic smile; Gray, busy a couple of feet away, rolled his eyes and muttered something that only Natsu heard. He was wearing a t-shirt now, which struck Lucy as more appropriate.

"Natsu," Erza said at last. "Lucy has changed every article of clothing and her shoes and hairstyle."

"What? You did?!" Natsu held Lucy out at arm's length. "What did you do that for? We might not have found you again!" He paused, and then peered closely at Lucy. "You know… I think you're right Erza. Lucy! You messed up your hair! I'll bet that's why you had to change. You shouldn't worry about us, though. We don't mind if you want to dress like a stuck up rich girl—right Gray? Erza?"

"I refuse to be associated with that statement," muttered Gray.

"Natsu…" Erza sounded deeply chagrined.

"Besides, it doesn't matter. Lucy can change her clothes as often as she wants—or even put on that mask you were talking about, Erza! I'll always know it's her!"

Natsu sounded so certain that Lucy wasn't inclined to disagree. She still didn't know him very well, but that didn't seem to matter. When he grinned at her, she grinned back. How odd to think that there might be people who didn't care about masks, when she'd lived with them all her life. Her heart seemed to thump just a little harder against her rib cage at the thought and she didn't object when Natsu gave her another one-armed hug before getting back to his job for Erza.

Epilogue

Lucy didn't find out how Natsu could always track her down until several days later, at which point her vision of the power of love (or something like it) suffered a severe check. Erza kept avoiding the subject, but Gray answered her question directly, once she thought to ask him. It turned out that Natsu had a ridiculously good sense of smell.

"He… he smelled me?" Lucy demanded. "I smell?!"

Gray tried to reassure her, but she found herself putting on extra layers of deodorant for quite a while after that. Eventually, Natsu complained that she smelled like a chemical factory, and Lucy delivered a rather incomprehensible rant. Erza led her away murmuring that strawberry cream cake would help.

Eventually—after Lucy had been pacified by cake—Erza said thoughtfully:

"I think that you are losing sight of something important, Lucy."

"Oh." (sniff)

"I agree that Natsu could track down almost anyone, because of his sense of smell. But you are the one he chose to find."

[END]

A/Note: I don’t know if I’ll be able to do another chapter for Nalu Week, but I’d like to do at least one “more snuggly” one if I can manage.  I have a number of other writing commitments underway, so we’ll see!  All comments, notes, tags, likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

~ Impracticaldemon

@fic-writer-appreciation @ftfanfics @shell-senji @unashamed-shipper @nalufever @eliz1369 @nalu-natic @naluloverforever @miss-zei (humour me on this one, zeiyuu, I think it’s kind of fun!) @fury-ous 

[breeeliss]

[Femslash February]: Flowers

i feel like i’m just going to accept the fact that i’m going to be perpetually a day behind on these things. 

also this took forever to write im off my game today xD

Day 9: Flowers (Alyanette)

Words: 2200

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

[Previous: On Wheels] [Next: Sunlight]

One of the first things Alya learned about Marinette was that she doodled flowers when she was bored. 

They started off as small, blossoming roses in the corners of her notebooks that weren’t any larger than the tip of her pinky. If you left her to it for long enough, she’d wrap vines, leaves, ladybugs, caterpillars, bees, birds, clouds, and more flowers all around the margins of her book. Sometimes, she’d sneak her colored felt pens and highlighters to school and add in whorls of colors and outlandish patterns until her entire notebook page was covered with fields and gardens and windowsills dripping in plants. She’d always take a picture of it on her phone -- to turn it into an embroidery, or a screen print for a t-shirt, or a design for a book cover -- and pout pitifully for Alya to send her copies of her notes. 

It blended seamlessly into the normality that was Marinette -- the color pink, pigtails, the smell of bread, pinpricks on fingertips, different nail polish everyday, humming music under her breath, and doodling flowers in class. 

One day, Alya’s hand was right next to Marinette’s notebook, and Marinette continued the doodle from the edge of the page onto the back of Alya’s hand. Alya raised a brow when she started, but shrugged when Marinette asked if it bothered her. As far as idiosyncracies went, Marinette’s were all rather harmless. Besides, it was rather nice to take notes with one hand and feel the light brush of Marinette’s pen sketching away against her other. 

It always took three washes in the shower to get all the pen out, and her mother kept worrying her with folk knowledge about skin cancer and ink poisoning, but Alya didn’t like showing up to school the next day with the sketches still on her arm. It almost felt like her duty to give Marinette a blank canvas everyday, to encourage her darling little habits that were secretly the highlight of Alya’s day. 

“Why flowers?” she asked Marinette as she added yellows and oranges to the sunflowers she was drawing along the vein inside of her wrist. 

Marinette tapped the end of her pen against Alya’s nose. “Pretty flowers for a pretty lady.”

“How flattering,” Alya joked. “Do you sweet talk all of your notebooks like this too?”

“Of course,” Marinette chuckled, extending her horizon down Alya’s arm so she could add another row of flowers. “Nah, they’re just easy to draw. Mindless enough that I can half pay attention to the lesson.”

“You could just pay attention to the lesson and doodle later,” she teased. 

But Marinette gripped Alya’s arm and held it still as sketched. “Noooo, physics is so boring. Besides, you and Adrien are better at explaining it. And god forbid I want my art advertised.”

“To who? My family?”

“Yes. Their approval is very important to me.”

“I actually think my mom loves sunflowers, so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Look at that! I’m psychic too! Sometimes I surprise even myself.”

Marinette started taking pictures of Alya’s arms as well, and she’d send them to her at the end of every class. Alya just sort of kept them in their own little album in her phone and flipped through them when she was waiting for the bus or laying in bed at night trying to fall asleep. Sometimes, they were incredibly simple -- like a long chain of tulips wrapping around her wrist. Sometimes, during long periods, Marinette would manage to create abstract drawings filled with rings of daisies with hearts in the middle, swirling clouds that circled fields of violets, and shining suns with beams turning into longer vines of leaves and flower buds that left Alya reeling from the detail of it all. On the weekends, when she knew she wasn’t going to see Marinette the next day, she’d avoid washing it off just so she could trace all the lines and patterns with her fingertips and marvel at the talent. 

It almost seemed like something Alya could force meaning into if she really wanted to. Like those moments where you realize you’re the exception, and your heart wants to add sentimentality where it doesn’t necessarily belong. But it was such a mundane habit the two of them shared, that it seemed silly and self-indulgent to even hope for something like that. Even selfish to demand more of something that was already special and perfect. 

Adrien laughed when she moved to sit next to him in class one day to work on the literature project they partnered up to complete. “Daffodils today, huh?”

“Sometimes I have to look them up online,” Alya said. “She drew amaryllises the other day. I didn’t even know that’s what they were called.”

He gestured for her arm. “Can I see? I was watching while she was drawing on you today, she was concentrating so hard.”

“Yeah, she added butterflies to this one and started getting all crazy with the wings and the lines and stuff,” Alya mused. “It’s pretty with all the red and purple added in, but it’s going to take forever to wash off.”

“Well, that’s Marinette. Putting 110% into everything.” Adrien turned her wrist to the left and squinted at one of the designs. “Huh. I didn’t know she writes things, too.”

Alya frowned. “She doesn’t write anything. Not that I know of anyway...”

Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe I’m just seeing things. Thought for sure that looked like an ‘M’.”

“Where?”

“Right here. Above the bone in your wrist. Next to the tree with the red leaves.”

Alya checked where Adrien was pointing, and sure enough, there did look to be something that resembled an ‘M’ resting just underneath a flower petal that was lying right next to a great tree that took up half of Alya’s arm. “Huh. You’re right. Does look like a letter.”

“Could be just an accident.”

“I dunno,” Alya squinted. “Hard to accidentally draw an ‘M’. Plus, it’s just under the flower lying there out of nowhere.”

Adrien tapped his pen against his lips. “Maybe it’s just her signature, you know? Doesn’t she monogram ‘M’s on everything?”

Alya hummed. “Yeah, she does. But, what, she’s signing my arms now?”

“She did say she wanted you to show off her art,” Adrien chuckled. 

“Well, damn, good to know I’m her new canvas,” she said, pretending to sound annoyed. “I thought she was kidding about that.”

“Marinette doesn’t strike me as much of a kidder,” Adrien said. “I mean you definitely know her more than I do, but it always seems like she’s got a reason for doing something you know?”

Alya ran her thumb across the letter. “Yeah....that’s true.”

She pointed it out to Marinette as a joke the next morning. Marinette contained her smile by biting her lip, dipped her head so that her bangs covered her face, and muttered, “Yeah, that’s me. Signing everything...”

“Guess you’re serious about me advertising your art, huh?”

“Yeah...” Marinette said absently. “I never kid.”

Alya spent the entire walk back to her house from school looking for Marinette’s initial on her arm, wondering where she’d hidden it that day. Except, Alya never found an ‘M’. Instead, she found an ‘E’ written along the vine wrapping around her thumb. The day after that, it was what she was sure was a ‘J’. Then, another ‘E’. 

Was it a message? A word she was trying to spell out? MEJE hardly meant anything, unless she’d caught Marinette in the middle of a word or a sentence. Maybe it was a joke she was trying to spell out, or some silly message that she wanted to sneakily place into her art. Like that time Marinette sent her ten texts that were just pictures that was supposed to say “Please help me I am very hungry and very sad.”

“Maybe it’s in another language?” Nino offers when Alya shows him the ‘T’ on her sleeve of buttercups that Marinette drew on her arm during maths. “Doesn’t she know Chinese?”

“Barely,” Alya smirked. “Plus, wouldn’t she just use characters and not letters?”

“I guess so.” Nino laughed and twisted Alya’s arm around to stare at the design that was looping around all of her fingers today. “Must be something really important. She’s putting a lot of work into these doodles. You might as well get one of these tattooed.”

“Watch it be a meme she found on the Internet the other day. If it is, I’ll kill her.”

An ‘A’ and an ‘I’ came next, and then another ‘M’ before the letters started to repeat. Alya waited until she was home and typed in all the letters she’d gotten so far: MEJETAIMEJ. 

It seemed like nonsense to her at first, and Alya blamed the late hour for making her miss what was so obviously right in front of her face the entire time. But she blinked at the letters right in the middle of the jumble and felt her chest tighten a little. 

JETAIME. 

Je t’aime. 

She had to rewrite all the letters four times over to make sure she didn’t miss one, to make sure they were all in the right order, to make sure that she wasn’t just projecting her feelings onto something as innocuous as silly little messages left in the doodles that Marinette left on her arms. But Alya wasn’t wrong, and that may have been the most confusing and frustrating part of all of this. It didn’t make any sense. They told each other they loved each other all the time. They were best friends, of course they loved each other. Maybe it was just that. Maybe it was just a cute little message from a friend that she wasn’t meant to read into. Maybe. 

Or maybe there was a reason Marinette wasn’t just telling her. Because it was heavier than it had been before. So heavy that Marinette couldn’t bear to say it with a new meaning -- a meaning that could very well add a different filter to everything. 

Alya waited for more days -- waited for the ‘E,’ ‘T,’ ‘A,’ and ‘I’ -- until it was Saturday and they were lying down on Marinette’s bed, limbs tangled together, watching a movie on the laptop balanced on Alya’s stomach. Her right arm was held up while Marinette started drawing roses on her wrists again. 

Alya cleared her throat and lowered the volume on the movie. “It’s an ‘M’ today again. Isn’t it?”

Marinette’s pen stilled for only half a second before she continued shading in a petal. “So you figured it out?”

“Pretty sure,” Alya muttered. She was hyper aware of the feeling of Marinette’s head pressed up against her temple and Marinette’s nose that was tucked against her neck. She swallowed and tried to make her voice sound stronger than her resolve felt. “I...I love you too.”

“But do you?” Marinette muttered, keeping her eyes on her pen and on Alya’s arm. “I mean, really honestly. Do you? Because....i-if you don’t, it’s fine. I just...sometimes I feel like I have all these things I want to tell you and I don’t know how to say them. So I just...picked the best thing that fit. But if you don’t....I mean, I don’t have to -- ”

“You’re rambling, babe,” Alya interrupted gently. 

Marinette laughed against her skin. “Sorry. I’m not very good at this sort of thing. And I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Nothing you do could freak me out, Mari. You don’t have to worry about that” Alya assured. “I’m not freaked out.”

“So then....what are you?”

Things with Marinette always felt so natural, like one thing bled seamlessly into the next. Nothing felt jarring and nothing felt strange enough to need a period of time to settle and adjust. Things just were, and no matter what came up the two of them molded into it perfectly without ever needing to explain or defend. Alya wondered if this was exactly what was happening now. Because Alya had always loved Marinette, always loved her with all her heart. She traced back along the past year to see if that love turned into a love, if that comfort turned into a need, if those changes were even the sorts of things you could track and notice. But there was never a sharp jolt or jump to indicate a change. Alya wouldn’t be surprised if one morning she woke up, got dressed for school, saw Marinette stumbling into class with only seconds to spare before the bell and realized ah! There it was. There were all the small letters left behind like clues forming together into something beautiful that Alya could treasure deeply. 

It took no work. Smooth. Effortless. Everything always easy. 

What are you?

Alya shut her eyes and pressed a small, short kiss on Marinette’s lips, smiling at the gasp that jumped up from Marinette’s throat and past Alya’s lips. They pushed back against hers as Marinette kissed her back, and for such a brief moment the whole world stilled and everything felt perfect and righted. 

“I’m happy.” 

[just-seventeen-things]

hi! can i request an imagine where you accidentally get locked inside a library with wonwoo?

Yes of course! Thank you for the request ♥♥

You walked into the library, hoping to borrow a few books to last you over the weekend. The sun was setting and the library was soon to close, explaining why you seemed a bit hurried. You wanted to borrow books but you didn’t know where to start so you quickly skimmed the shelves from one end to the next but couldn’t find something that caught your eye. You were almost ready to give up when something else caught your eye. A boy reading by the window.Something about how the orange light shone from behind his figure made him seem like someone magical, with the sun reflecting off his circled frames. After you finished admiring his shining appearance, you caught notice of the book he was holding with his slim fingers. You were told to never judge a book but its cover however the book he was reading seemed to have the prettiest cover you had seen in a while. A pink, water coloured flower spread over its white canvas with other flowers seeming to stem off of it. It drew you in, causing you to ask the cute boy with the black hair what he was reading.

He looked up and replied,”This book?”After you nodded, he showed you the cover and you asked what it was about. Suddenly his eyes brightened and it was as if you could see the stars in his eyes as he went on an uncontrolled rant about the joys of this book, in hushed tones. You couldn’t help but listen with a smile on your face due to his passion. A loud sound snapped you both out of your seemingly dazed states as you offered to go check it out. You walked through the bookshelves you had skimmed through until you reached the front of the library where you entered from however one thing appeared drastically different.

The front door is closed?!

You ran to the door, trying to pull it open however you fully knew that when this library closed its doors, they were locked until the next morning. You pulled out your phone, attempting to call a friend to see if they could help you out of this mess however you were greeted with the cold picture meaning no battery. You couldn’t stop your heart rate from constantly increasing as you soon came to accept that you were alone in this big library, alone with the cute boy by the window. You slowly walked back to the window seats with only bad news to tell him. You hoped that he would have his phone however your heart only dropped when you heard he didn’t have it on him.“Don’t worry about it,” he told in attempts to comfort you,”It’s only one night. I won’t try anything either.”You admit you had been comforted by his words however now you had another problem on your hand. How were you meant to keep your cool when you were around such a cute stranger?Being as awkward as you were, you asked him one question,”What’s your name?”He gave you a smile as his eyes and nose crinkled along with it,”Wonwoo.”

You had the smallest hope that you could calm your nerves and act normal while reading books throughout the night however it was just a worthless hope. You couldn’t stop feel nervous and just the thought of being with Wonwoo for the rest of the night made the butterflies in your stomach grow more active. While you were slowly sinking into your hole of crushing restless nature, you barely heard him speaking.

“What’s your favourite book?” he asked and you expected him to stop there to give you time to answer however he kept going,”What about your favourite genre? Favourite author? Where’s your favourite place to read?”When he finally finished his barrage of questions you couldn’t help but laugh because he had tired himself out so much that he was trying to gasp for breath. “Take your time,” you laughed,”We have all night.”

While coming back from a toilet break, you felt giddy with joy because you were able to talk to him for so long. At first you two talked about books but then it expanded onto favourite foods and then your daily lives. In just the span of five hours, deep into the night, the two of you definitely had the same feelings and thoughts.You felt like you had knew each other for years.When you returned, you were surprised to see Wonwoo sleeping with his right ear leaning on his arms. You could stare at his peaceful face as long as you could however the idea that you would return to just being strangers after today made you feel a little pang of sadness. You decided to fall asleep as well, falling asleep as soon as you could so you wouldn’t feel more attached to him.

The sound of quick talking woke you up from your sleep as the sun was the first thing that hit your eyes.“It’s alright, no one was harmed.” You could hear Wonwoo’s voice through your dazed state as well as the voice of the librarian apologising over and over again.You could feel you face heating up as you realised that you had spent the entire night with a man, what made it worse was when his face was right in front of you. He was waving his hand and it took you a while to notice while you were deep in thoughts.“You ready to go?” he asked with a smile to accompany, you quickly nodded your head and almost hit your hip on the table.

Just before the door, he handed you a piece of paper,”That’s my number, call me when your phone is charged alright?”You could help the smile from spreading idiotically across your face as he began to walk ahead of you. You attempted to catch up to him but stopped at the sound of a song.Wonwoo pulled out his phone from his pocket and answered the call.You stood there in shock as he looked back at you and flashed his small, golden smile.