#to everyone who tuned in to my thoughts and drabbles no matter how small they were

[maehemthemisfit]

So we did a thing...

2k milestone event(s) soon? wink wink nudge nudge 🤭

[longlivedelusion]

In The Heat of the Moment

A little drabble cause my friends had a small home rave today and there was a hottie there and let's just say it gave me inspo for a Bucky smut? Not really smut. Spice? lmao.

So here we are. Not proofread, wrote this in my phone and am just posting it as is. Will maybe review later idk.

Summary: club time with the Avengers and you're a horny bih who wants Bucky, but Bucky doesn't give you the time of day. Or so you think. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: minors DNI, mentions of oral and general sexual encounters, enter at your discretion cause this is just me and my little horny ass wanting a club moment😭 No use of Y/N

Enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~~~

The music was loud where we were, I couldn't hear anything but the beat pounding as a sea of strangers swirled around me.

The team had all decided on a night out, something to take the edge off after a particularly hard mission. But being the Avengers, well... There's always someone somewhere taking photos or gawking. We couldn't just, be.

That's until a certain God of Mischief had the great idea of using his magic to disguise us. We could still see eachother as we were, but everyone else saw just a bunch of random strangers. No Captain America, no Thor, no Bucky Barnes.

So we came to one of Nat's favourite spots, an underground techno club on the industrial side of the city that was exactly what we all needed.

Dark. Loud music. Drinks. No thoughts, just our bodies, the sound and everything else in between. Whatever we needed to let off some steam.

But as much as dancing was doing wonders, my body slick with sweat as ran my hands up past my waist, body bouncing in tune with the sound, I wanted more. Needed more.

And there was only one man who I wanted to give it to me. Bucky fucking Barnes. But unfortunately, said man sat by the bar and had never really given me the time of day outside of normal mission stuff. We were great colleagues, but fuck if I didn't want him to use all that focus, all that drive he had when it came to pounding his enemies to focus it on pounding into me.

So I just danced, eyes trying and failing to not meet the corner of the bar where I knew he was. Sipping his drink as he slowly bounced to the music, Steve right beside him as they talked about something. I didn't let my eyes linger long enough to make out what they were even looking at.

So I kept dancing, closing my eyes and feeling the way the music traveled over me. Imagining it was Bucky's hands instead. Letting my breath get a little bit heavier as I did.

I suddenly felt hands at my waist, unfamiliar ones that made me turn suddenly. Some random guy had come up, a small grin on his face as he bounced along with me. I raised my brow a second, definitely not in the mood for some random guy's attention no matter how horny I . might've been. I was ready to move him aside before I felt a large presence behind me.

"Get the fuck off her." I heard Bucky say, his voice somehow just clear enough over the loudness of the club.

I saw the man retreat with his hands up, eyes wide as he saw the predatory glance towards him. While he backed up, I turned towards Bucky, already frowning. "I could've handled that you know."

He crossed his arms, his body close.

Closer than usual.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But just wanted to make sure you were alright. S'all. " He watched me, an anger in his eyes usually reserved for special moments in battle - moments with HYDRA agents.

Before he could step away, I grabbed his arm. "Wait," I said. "Stay. Dance."

He tries to protest, but I got closer to his body now, slowly bouncing to the beat as he stilled, eyes wide. "Please." I breathed out, eyes gazing up at him. I don't know if was the darkness, the aninimoty of the night, the way my body tingled at his nearness, but I was gonna try to go for it. Needed to. I couldn't just sit around pining and feeling the way I did and not do shit about it. I was an Avenger for gods sake -- I could flirt.

"Alright." I heard him say, taking me out of my trance as his hand snaked around my waist slowly, hesitantly. His touch was featherlight, like he was afraid of going too far as he matched the rhythm with me.

I started to run my fingers up his arms, curious, exploratory. To see if he was just being polite with this or if there could be something more. I felt his grip tighten just a hint before he pulled me in closer, his head against mine as his mouth grazed past my ear, his breath hot against me.

We moved like that a while, bodies shifting to the music, my hands growing bolder across his shoulders, his back, his hair. I let my head fall back as he held me, closing my eyes as I let the feeling overwhelm me. The feeling of him, the sound, the lights. All overwhelming me in the most delicious way.

I felt his movements stutter, opening my eyes again to see his own reflected back at me -- pupils blown and mouth partially opened as I watched him take me in. A hunger and desperation in his eyes that I knew well, because I knew it was reflected right back at him.

I tentatively reached for his jaw, thumbs grazing over his lips as he sucked in a breath. My logical brain decided to show up for a split second then -- I was being careless, our team was close by and his was my coworker, this was so public and stupid and-

He was leaning in. His mouth so close to mine as his eyes took me in, "Tell me to stop." He said, lips just hovering mine. Waiting. Teasing.

My mind stilled. "Please," was all I could breathe out.

The next moment I was on fire, his lips quenching a thirst I'd been settling in for the months since I'd known him. A thirst I thought would never be satiated. I'd craved, so desperately, this man for so long and in this moment, his lips on mine, I knew. I'd never want them to leave again.

I moved my body to his, pressed so deeply into him that I felt each crevice and movement of his against mine. I felt him shift, his clear arousal now pressed against my thigh. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past and grazing over mine.

I was in hell, in the most blissful, heavenly pits of hell there was because god this man could fucking kiss. And I don't think I would ever want to kiss anyone again after this. I couldn't.

His hands started to grow more confident, his touch hungry as if he could feel the fire too, like we were two torches dancing together desperate for more oxygen.

I pulled away, hands trailing down his body as I took him in. "Bucky, I need you." I practically whined. I'd never whined in my life, but right now I could care less. I needed this man, religiously.

"Fuck," his grip tightened on my body, pressing me even harder into him. "Where, how?" He started looking around, assessing the situation like this was one of our missions.

I grabbed his jaw and pulled his gaze back to me, leaning up and over to his ear. "Bathroom on the right. Follow behind me but don't make it too obvious. I'll be inside waiting for you." I pulled back just enough so I could see his face, "I'll be the one on my knees."

I heard the intake of breath before I could register what happened next. His lips crashing into mine as he groaned into my mouth, taking me rougher than before. He pulled back panting, his body looking like it was fighting a war to do so, and he gave me a long look that had me nearly buckle my knees.

"You've got 5 minutes. And you better be ready for me 'cause that mouth isn't the only thing getting worshipped tonight doll."

He pulled off, pushing me forward towards the bathroom. He stood there, arms crossed as he assessed me from behind.

God was I in for it.

Part Two

[wildemaven]

1000 kisses to you and here's my 2 prompt picks for the drabble thingie: 4 and 15 with Javier

Can't wait to see what it leads to 😘

call me javi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x reader word count: 651 content warning: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, dancing, fluff, javier being protective and sweet, I don’t think there’s anything else note: sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I hope this works okay 💕 thanks for sending in your ask and for you support

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” You say loudly rather close to his ear, hoping he can hear over the booming music and crowded bar. 

It was a slow week at the embassy, which meant the DEA’s finest had a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves for once. 

Drinks flowing. Bodies grinding in tune with each song the DJ throws out, keeping the energy circulating throughout the small bar you all frequent regularly. 

Tonight would be like any other Friday with your fellow Agents, except this evening you find yourself drawn to one Agent in particular. 

His body has been firmly against yours for the better part of the evening, front and back. Hands holding you close no matter the pace of the song, selfishly worried you might drift away or find yourself in the arms of someone else. 

You lost count at the amount of times his lips brushed over your own ears. His constant need to check in with you had your chest tight and stomach full of fluttering desire. 

There was a small part of you that was feeling he might even like you. More than just a crush born from an evening of close proximity. There was never a thought that he would be, not with all the beautiful women constantly in his arms in all the years you’ve known him. 

With the way his warm brown eyes are so fixated on you says otherwise. His expression exchanged for something a little less brooding and a little more alluring. Hands still finding purchase by any means as you lean against the wall while his body shields you from onlookers. The dimly lit hallway near the back of the bar adds another layer of privacy. 

“Who’s everyone?” Javier’s voice is laced with a nervousness you’ve never heard before. The stoic demeanor he wears regularly now hangs up alongside his worn-in leather jacket. 

There’s a raspiness brought on by the pack of cigarettes he most likely blew through leading up to showing up here, even though he said he had other plans.

“Who do you think?” You smirk playfully at him, your fingers playing with the damp curls at the base of his neck. 

“Steve?” There was no need to even ask, he already knew how protective Steve was, rightfully so. Didn’t mean he still didn’t find his overbearing partner to be a pain in his ass, especially when it came to you. 

You nod in agreement, desperately trying to contain the laughter bubbling up as he huffs out  dramatically, shaking his head. The annoyance doesn’t last long though. The corners of his mouth lifting, revealing one of his best features. His smile makes you instantly weak and it has you prematurely looking forward to being on the receiving end of it forever. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Javier?” The prospect of his lips on you, in any capacity, had been overwhelming your every thought since he saddled up next to you at the beginning of the night.

Watching the way his lips formed every word he spoke. Cradling the edge of his glass on his plush lower lip as he sipped on his dry whiskey. Contorting in such a delicate way with each drag he pulled from his cigarette. 

They’re the softest lips you’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Excruciatingly blissful, deliberately encompassing your own, as your brain silently screams for more. 

“Javi.” Javi. It rolls off his tongue like a sweet springtime honey. Each letter electric as he says it, leaving your mouth tingling as it brands itself to your soul. 

“Hmm?” Too consumed by him to form words. 

“You can call me Javi from now on.” There’s a permanence in the way he says it, something you both have to discuss once the hangovers have worn off tomorrow. 

“Kiss me again— Javi.” And he does well into the next morning. 

[a-small-tired-lonely-potato]

Northern Lights

Demon King x Oc drabble

Do you remember when we met?

I was naught but a small fluctuation of energy roaming the sky, shadowed by the light of the glorious sun. I was content to stay as such, thinking it was my purpose in this life, to shine ever so slightly, and to dance alone. But then you walked into my life. Everyone feared you so, The Young Prince of Darkness, so beloved by Chaos, and so resented by light. You were sent towards our home to find a light of your own, so alone in your darkness, all you asked for was a small speck of light to guide you on your journey.

My siblings did not appreciate Chaos' decision.

“What was Chaos thinking, sending him here?” They would ask. “Whom do we send unto their death? We all know no light could survive the consuming nature of his darkness!” They ranted.

“How dare he come here!” They scream.

“Why does Chaos not let the miserable creature die!?” They raved.

So hated, the Young Prince of Darkness.

I tried to fear you, tried to despise you as my brothers and sisters did. I could not.

All I could do was pity, ‘What a poor creature,’ I would think, ‘How cruel must Chaos be, To make such a poor soul as one who would be forced to wander alone in his darkness for the rest of his days?’

While they argued over who would be sent to their doom, forced to die alone in your darkness, I decided to step forward.

All I wished to do was provide you with a small source of light, it was all I could do after all, my light did not feed the green, nor did it warm the earth, it barely showed at all, no matter how hard I tried to shine as bright as my sisters, or burn as fervently as my brothers, my light was forever dim and cold.

My sisters cried, saying they would take my place if I would just stay.

My brother's hearts were overtaken by fear, so they turned that fear to anger, saying they would kill you, put you to rest so you would never darken our homes again.

I dried my sister’s tears, embracing them until they could understand they must never leave the earth without their light.

I held onto my brother’s hands, all I wanted was to save one person, as they did, just once, even if my light would not illuminate the world, I hoped to at least light yours.

As I waited in my mother’s garden, I thought about what I would say to you when we met, or what you would say to me.

Would you be cruel? Only wanting my light, and not me?

Would you be kind? Tell me to go back to my home in the sky?

Or would you say nothing at all? Simply wait for me to step into your darkness, and surely disappear.

I never figured out what to say before I heard you, from behind me, I heard you sing.

Later you would tell me how you heard this song when your body was still forming, a small tune you would hum to yourself when you could no longer see out of your own power, a song that would calm even the most cruel of men, a song that was meant for the most beautiful being, and that when you saw me all you could think was that the song was meant for me.

But as I saw you singing to me from beyond the trees, all I could think was that the song was meant for you.

How beautiful you were, how serene and calm. How lucky was I, to have you be the last thing my eyes would gaze upon before my demise. 

Your hair was held in dark ringlets, your cloak hung off your shoulders, I couldn’t see your face, too covered by your darkness, but I could see your eyes, I had never seen such a soft deep brown in my life.

It seemed when I locked my gaze with yours it shocked you, as if you didn’t know you were singing in the first place. I stood and greeted you, you responded in kind.

You told me your name, and asked if I was sent for you, “No,” I responded “I came here on my own.”

“You’ll die,” You would tell me. “Maybe,” I said as I walked towards you, “But we don’t know for sure.”

“You do, that’s why you came here, to your mother’s garden, a suitable resting place.” You stood in front of me, as you looked into my eyes, and you frowned, like you were disappointed.

“I’ve made my choice, have you?”

Your grimace told me all I needed to know.

You said nothing at first, but then you held my hand, apologized for whatever may happen to me, and thanked me for my sacrifice.

I held out my arms, hoping for one last embrace, and you granted my wish. You were warm, you smelled of smoke and ash, of the winter chill, and crisp mountain air. 

I closed my eyes as I felt your darkness consume me, too afraid to look, too afraid to let go.

I expected pain, or the breathlessness of drowning, I expected to fight for my last breaths, to have the cold envelope my body.

But instead it seemed as if I could breathe easier than before, instead of drowning I felt as if my body was lighter than air, instead of cold all I felt was your warm embrace.

For a brief moment I wondered if this was heaven, but then I heard you singing your song once again, and I opened my eyes to see you, the real you, not just your deep brown eyes, but your face, illuminated by an unearthly glow.

I watched the light as it weaved in and out of your darkness, shining brighter than I had ever seen, swirling around in dancing lights of green and blue and violet, how magical it was.

I asked you were this light came from, and how had you managed to find it, I was so distracted I almost missed the way you looked at me as you said,

“The light? It came from you.” 

I was taken aback as you held up the hands you had taken into yours, my hands, I could hardly believe what I was seeing, my skin shone the same colors as the light surrounding us, lighting up your face with its soft pastels.

I asked how this was possible, I had never shown this bright before, neither of us could come up with an answer.

You looked at my skin, and gently kissed my palm before softly asking if I would still stay, knowing I could shine as bright as my siblings.

I thought about it, surely my siblings would be overjoyed, perhaps I could now warm the earth as they did, I could guide our warriors as they could. I missed my family.

But as I thought of your song, and your embrace, and your kind darkness, I knew I wanted to stay, for as long as you would have me. My sisters guided the day, my brothers, the night. All I wished to guide was you.

So I kissed your forehead as I responded, “I have made my choice, have you?”

Your smile told me all I needed to know.

You took me into your life, gave your hearts, your mind, and your soul, and was given mine in return.

I gave all of me, and mine, to you. 

I gave you our beautiful children, a warm bed, and my ever shining light to guide you home.

I used to smile When I thought back on how we first met that day, but now as I remember your song, and your soft brown eyes, all I can think now?

Is that I wished I had died in your darkness that day.

[ofstarsandskies]

Fantasy AU Drabble -- Troubles with Voices

Hello frens, I have come from the depths of hell to post a drabble!... that will not make sense without @unborderedreflection's Fantasy AU and instead features my OG muse, Zig!

Sorry for the hold-up with replies, they will come swiftly! But when I was allowed to find a way to worm the very-Xillia-2-character Zig into an AU, my brain had to take it. Know he is inevitable no matter my X2 canon.

Today's mission sure was special... in how much it was proceeding to suck.

The premise sounded promising at the time: President Bakur wanted a small team to infiltrate Rieze Maxia and capture a larger fae which supposedly showed it face a few days ago. At the same time, they were to test Spirius' newest creation, the mini-Lances of Kresnik. It showed effect on lesser entities and humans, so if could drain and contain the mana from a larger fae? Mass-producing these would be Spirius' first priority.

Their search point happened to be something they called the Nia Khera Spiritway, due to its 'high spiritual concentration', whatever that meant. A couple monsters jumped out along the path, but for the most part? The trip wasn't anything special. At this rate, they'd be chasing their own tails for hours until this thing got sick of them stomping around.

When everyone warned me this was a 'dangerous mission', I didn't think the danger would be mind-numbing tedium. Zig moaned in his head, somehow missing the awkward exchange at Trigleph Seahaven. And back there he was basically a circus monkey, summoning tiny flames every time someone suspected their group weren't real Rieze Maxians. If this kept up, he might just whine and ask if they could take a lunch break just so there was something to break this up!

'Cease your crusade.' A voice whispered mere inches away from his ear--

--But when Zig checked over his shoulder, he saw nothing but trees and their rear guard, Agent Kriska. When they locked eyes, Kriska checked around and then looked back at him.

"Did you see something, Agent Kraft?"

"I thought I heard someone right behind me, but guess I imagined it," Zig dismissed the concern. "Honestly, I thought this mission would be more exciting. Everyone hypes the fae as deadly threats, yet our mark hasn't even tried to scare us off."

"Maybe they've wised up to the danger humans can finally pose," Kriska laughed to herself. "Just give it time; we'll get to your favorite part of the job soon enough."

"Stabbing the target's the only part I'm good at; why look forward to the rest where I'm as useful as a plank of wood?"

Kriska rolled her eyes at him, though her smile persisted. The others didn't comment on the banter, so no harm done as the two returned to the task at hand.

'You don't know the consequences of your actions.' The voice spoke to him aga--no, wait, this one sounded deeper. Though with Kriska still quiet, it had to be another false alarm. Zig wouldn't let this voice bother him like the first and let it pass.

'Denying our words will not silence us, human.' Another one? Damn, the boredom was really setting in. As long as he ignored it, it'd all blow over.

'We know you can hear us.'

'You'll met your end if you continue blindly walking forward.'

The lone voices now conjoined into a growing crowd talking over each other. Tuning them out became impossible, their noise slowly overloading his senses. Soon their voices left his head in a vice, everything around him fading into a blank void full of images and lights Zig couldn't begin to comprehend.

'Turn back, human.'

'Disrupting the balance of the fae will do your kind no good.'

'The gates are to be left alone. Humans who enter will be forever changed.'

'What do you hope to accomplish once you've detained us?'

'Our kind wish no harm on you. Can you not return the courtesy?'

'If you can hear us, it is not too late. Return home.'

"Stop it! I don't want to hear it!" Zig could feel himself shouting, but he couldn't hear his voice over the noise. "I do what I think is right, no matter what anyone thinks!"

The more he protested, the louder everything grounded into his head.

"I SAID I DON'T CARE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE--!"

"--ZIG, SNAP OUT OF IT!" The fake world melted around Zig in an instant, leaving the blurry face of what looked like Kriska standing in front of him and snapping her fingers.

"...Sorry, was I acting strange?"

"You had us worried to death!" Ugh, the last thing Zig needed: more yelling. At least it wasn't directly in his ear unlike the... whatever the hell happened a second ago. "No matter how much we kept talking to you, you wouldn't move or even acknowledge us! We thought you got possessed or something."

He'd been standing in one spot the whole time? So he hadn't been transported to some other world at any point? Kriska and the others wouldn't lie if they were concerned, but surely some of that had to be real... right?

Though once Zig thought about it, neither option sounded good for his sanity: either everything was a horrible trick of the mind, or the fae would continue to hound him until he bent to their will and ditched his allies. Well, the reason didn't matter right now. The sooner they captured the target, the sooner Zig could sit down and figure out what's going on in his head.

"I'm fine, nor is anything possessing me," Zig said, though his heart wasn't in his response for once. "I just can't stop thinking what'll happen when the fae does show up. Their powers are always a mystery."

"Is that all? Don't even worry about it-- the Lance can dispel whatever voodoo these fae can throw at us," The Agent handing their mini-Lance, Valen, boasted, "Just keep it busy, then we'll suck the mana out of it and capture it. It'll be like fighting any old monster."

"If it's that simple, why don't you take point, Valen?" Kriska called Kozel's bluff.

"As if either you or Zig'd know how to point this thing the right way--"

Their team leader ordered them to cut the chatter, giving Zig a decent out from the situation and fall back in line. Sadly that didn't stop the voices from returning to annoy and pester him about reconsidering whether he's doing the right thing. But this time, he'd let them whine and keep his attention forward.

...After one more word.

Please just leave me alone, Zig knew the voices wouldn't hear his thoughts (and if they did, that'd be a problem), but he'd complain anyway. I've got enough rumors back at work to add 'Zig hears voices in his head!' to the list.

Either that decree did the trick or Zig found some way to tune the annoyances out, as the whispers stopped their chatter and let him return to the new bliss of tedium.

[crystaljins]

The sun burns too

Characters: Hoseok x Reader

Word count: 3.3 K

Synopsis: Hoseok is acting weird.

Slytherin!hoseok x Hufflepuff!reader

Notes: Double update this week! I’m really just trying to churn these out because I wanna get to releasing my next drabble series!!! Anyway, the request for this one was Slytherin!Hobi, which was admittedly hard to write for considering he’s... not very Slytherin like, but hopefully I did him justice!

Warnings: Jealousy, petty scheming, possessiveness (Through like gifts and stuff like that), broom accidents?

GORGEOUS BANNER BY @joheunsaram​

Masterlist

Throughout your many years of attendance at Hogwarts, you’ve always though that one of the school’s greatest mysteries is how someone like Jung Hoseok, sunshine personified, was sorted into Slytherin house. 

Slytherin is a house that values ambition, cunning, leadership- all tendencies that Hoseok (or Hobi, as most of the students in your year group refer to him as), in the time you’d known him, had not shown a single hint of. Not with his gentle smile and affectionate nature. If anything, he should have been in Hufflepuff with you- goodness knows he spends most of his time surrounded by members of literally every other house. And it’s just strange, that the two of you are so close despite the borderline opposite fundamentals of your respective houses.

For one thing, he’s always making time for you, a Hufflepuff. No matter how packed his schedule is, or how stressed or tired he is, all he needs is a message from you claiming you need a pick-me-up to have him sneaking into the Hufflepuff common room after curfew. 

He does things like sing to the plants in the greenhouse when he thinks no one is listening, silly tunes under his breath complete with choreographed moves, or volunteer to varnish and clean the old brooms that first years use for their first flying lessons before they have their own brooms. 

And he’s just so friendly! Everyone he meets is his new best friend- it doesn’t take long for him to have a funny personal joke with the random girl smiling at him in the corridor or the shy first year running late for their next class begging for directions. You’ve never met anyone as sociable as him and you come from a house known for being nice to a fault.

Little do you know that the Sorting Hat does everything with good reason, although you are soon to discover that.

It first starts when you bring it up to him one morning, over breakfast. He receives your words with a thoughtful hum, midway through leaning across the table to place a neatly cut up piece of bacon on Jihyo’s plate for her. He sits back, getting to work on his own breakfast before answering.

“You’d have to ask the Sorting Hat.” Hobi finally remarks, before refilling your empty glass of orange juice for you. He grins and leans forward, batting his eyelashes playfully. “I can see where you’d be confused since I’m so sweet, and loyal-“

The conversation is interrupted by a call of your name. Startled, you toss a glance over your shoulder to where Kim Taehyung is scrabbling across the dining hall to get to you. 

“Who’s that?” Hobi asked, looking genuinely baffled. Taehyung nearly collides with a small group of first years gathered at the entrance. You wince at the way he nearly bowls them all over, before once more returning to his awkward lacing through the thick crowd. 

“Kim Taehyung. He’s in the year below us.” Jihyo supplies helpfully, although there’s an oddly triumphant note to her voice. “(Y/N) is helping tutor him in Charms.” 

“Since when do you tutor in charms?” He asks curiously. He pours himself another glass of milk before handing the jug off to be passed down to Younghyun, three seats down. 

“It’s a recent thing.” You confess. “I didn’t really think I was a good candidate either, but all the people that would normally get asked are all booked out with midterms coming up and everyone seems to think I’m really good at Charms after that competition I won last month.”

Hobi’s face lights up. 

“So, you’re finally getting the recognition you deserve?” He questions. Awkwardly, you offer a shy nod, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heat under his praise. 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far-“ you protest, but Hoseok cuts you off with a sharp “tsk”.

“What’s the rule, (Y/N)?” Hobi questions, a warning tone in his voice. You sigh, looking at Jihyo for support, but she’s still watching Taehyung battle through a gaggle of second years with morbid curiosity. 

“No undermining our achievements.” You say, right as Taehyung skids to a stop before your table. 

“(Y/N)!” Taehyung beams. He’s such a happy dude- the quintessential Hufflepuff. 

“Hi, Tae.” You murmur, and his smile gets impossibly brighter at the use of the nickname he’d insisted you call him by. 

You miss the way Hobi’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“I’m so glad I caught you!” Taehyung continues, straddling the bench beside you and grinning cheerfully. “They’ve just booked an extra Quidditch practice today.” He confesses. You nod understandingly. 

“That’s fine- we can just reschedule,” you tell him with a kind smile. 

He fidgets for a moment, before offering his next thoughts. 

“Actually, since I know you happen to be free at that time... I was thinking you could come watch me?” He suggests, leaning forward just enough that he edges on your personal space. 

You’re about to answer when Hobi cuts in. 

“She hates Quidditch.” He supplies helpfully. “I’m lucky to even get her to go to games, let alone practice. She could be using the opportunity to watch Slytherin practice to sell secrets to her own house team, but instead she’d “rather eat mandrake potting mix”.” 

You blink and then feel your skin flush hot. While Hobi’s assertion isn’t wrong, per se, you hadn’t wanted to make Taehyung feel awkward by rejecting his request. Taehyung stares for a few moments between the two of you, before offering a sheepish smile. 

“I... didn’t realise.” He says, and he looks a little deflated. Then he perks up a little. “Well, then, I’ll have to wait for our next tutoring session! Tomorrow, right?” 

You nod. 

“Tomorrow.” You promise, as Taehyung takes his leave. 

You turn your attention to Hobi, who is watching Taehyung’s retreat with an odd expression on his face. 

“Is... everything ok, Hobi?” You question tentatively. Hobi startles, before turning his attention back on you. 

“Of course! Why wouldn’t it be?” He asks, with his trademark sunshine-y smile, the one that normally makes you feel like sunflowers are blooming in your chest. 

But this time it doesn’t- the feeling is off. His smile doesn’t sit quite right on his face. 

“I don’t know... you just seem off.” You confess. You can’t quite place why, but the interaction Hobi just had with Taehyung didn’t have the natural ease he usually brings whenever he meets the new person. 

“Jihyo!” Hoseok calls out in horror, distracted from your observation by the way Jihyo has knocked over your orange juice, sending it flooding across the breakfast table. You leap up, trying to dodge the spray of orange, and you don’t notice the way Hoseok shoots a grateful look at your friend in the ensuing chaos. 

And that’s just the start.

++

A week later you’re idly charming a little origami bird to flap around your desk as you wait for Taehyung to turn up for his tutoring session. You’d been working on your final piece for your potions assessment, but you don’t have access to the supplies you need to do any further work right now, and you’ve just reached that point where your brain is absolutely fried. 

It takes a few moments to realise that your vision has been obscured by soft, brown fur. Blinking a few times and leaning back, your field of view widens into a little teddy bear, smiling with soft brown eyes and the proud words “Hobi Wuvs U” embroidered across its round belly. 

Confused, you trace the arms holding it aloft back to their source- Hoseok beams at you. 

“Tadaa!” He cries, wriggling the little bear for good measure. 

“What’s this?” You question slowly. Slowly, you reach up and accept the little bear. Its fur is soft and smooth.

“My Transfiguration work.” Hoseok announces proudly. “You know how I was working on transfiguring objects to match with conceptual designs? This is the prototype.” 

Your eyes widen at the recollection and a smile breaches your lips. 

“That’s amazing, Hobi!” You cry. “He’s adorable.”

“He’s yours.” Hoseok says quickly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say his cheeks are a bit flushed. You stare at the bear, before looking at Hobi. 

“Mine?” You echo. He smiles and beams. 

“Yeah! Of course, he should go to you- I have to make sure he goes to a good home, after all. Let him watch you study, ok?” Before you can protest, Hoseok is yanking the bear from your hands and laying it on your desk so that it looks like it’s supervising you as you work, its little embroidered slogan on proud display. 

You don’t have the heart to put it away despite the fact that it may be a distraction to Taehyung who has a short attention span at the best of times. It’s such a sweet, thoughtful gift- it can sit on your desk for one session. 

“Ok.” You agree. Hoseok’s smile widens, and his gaze shifts over your shoulder for a moment before flicking back to you. 

“Anyway, I should go- you have tutoring with Taehyung, right?” He recalls. You don’t remember telling Hobi that particular part of your schedule, but he must have just overheard it. 

“I do- I’ll see you later.” You bid him farewell.

You miss Hoseok quietly slipping away after the boisterous call that comes from Taehyung. He runs over, arms laden with textbooks and a stack of parchment balanced precariously on top. The boy should invest in a book bag or something. 

“Sorry I’m late. Was that Hoseok?” Taehyung asks as he settles into his spot. You glance over your shoulder at his retreating back. 

“Yeah. He was just dropping off this little guy.” You gesture at the little teddy bear. 

You would have thought Taehyung is the kind of person to love something like a cute little teddy bear, but his expression shutters and the ever-present smile slips off his face at the sight. His gaze lingers on the embroidered words on its tummy.

“Oh... do you think you could put it away? I don’t like teddy bears that much.” He confesses. You frown, looking at the little bear. You don’t want to put him away, but as Taehyung’s tutor you should be doing everything possible to assist with Taehyung focusing. You slip the bear into your bag. 

You miss Hoseok shooting one last grin over his shoulder in your direction, only for it to slip off his face when he witnesses you place the bear into the bag. 

++

It takes you a while, but gradually you start to realise that Hoseok is acting out of the ordinary. 

It’s little things at first. He’ll randomly show up to your tutoring sessions, acting like he forgot you had them on and then sit nearby, which never fails to distract Taehyung. At meals he always somehow finds you before anyone else and sits up so close he’s almost pressed against you, instead of rotating around the dining hall with his numerous other friends like he normally does. He brings you a lot of gifts, usually products of his transfiguration project, but they’re showy gifts- like oversized knit jumpers or the gaudy necklaces. Things that people can’t help but comment on whenever he forces you to wear them.

They’re not actions that normally bother you. Hoseok is affectionate and friendly and loves giving gifts and he’s always been one of the sweetest people you know. It’s not like he’s never brought you gifts before, and he has always been the type to crash your plans with other people and liven up the atmosphere in doing so.

But something’s different. You can’t place what, but it is. Something’s wrong. And it doesn’t start to bother you until Nayeon brings it up one night.

“I’ve noticed Hoseok’s been making you a lot of gifts, lately.” She comments idly, doodling on her parchment instead of working on her essay like she’s meant to be. You pause in your perusal of your potions textbook and glance over at where she’s quite comfortably seated in a huge squishy armchair, the best one in the common room.

“He always gives me gifts.” You remind her. “He gives everyone gifts.” He once bought Jihyo a whole packet of sugar quills when she missed a Hogsmeade trip because she had come down with a bad case of Quiffle Flu. And then there was the time he organised an entire surprise party for Ethan Mibbs because his parents forgot his birthday. “Being overly nice is just Hoseok’s brand.”

The scratching of Nayeon’s quill ceases and she wrinkles her nose.

“This is over the top, though. And he doesn’t just give them to you- he makes you wear them! If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’d have employed you as a model for his new clothing line.” She exclaims. “Something’s going on. He’s up to something.”

“Hoseok’s our friend, Nayeon.” You remind her. “Not some evil mastermind. You just don’t trust him because he’s a Slytherin.”

“The Sorting Hat is never wrong.” She sniffs in retaliation. And then she sighs. “You know what, never mind. It’s not like anyone can convince you to think Hoseok is capable of anything suspicious.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. She shrugs. 

“It’s just... it’s no secret you think he’s some kind of saint or something.” Nayeon frowns. “I love you both, but it’s not fair to him to project these ‘perfect Hufflepuff’ ideals you have onto him. He’s a Slytherin. He’s not a Hufflepuff.”

“I never said he was.” You mumble, but Nayeon can tell from the defeated tone to your voice that you’ll at least consider her words. 

++

It all culminates on the day Hoseok falls off his broom. 

It’s in the lead up to the Annual Hogwarts Ball. It’s apparently been a yearly tradition in commemoration of some huge, awful battle that occurred in Hogwarts over twenty years ago. Fourth years and up are permitted to attend, and this year you are on the planning committee. 

You’re so busy you actually have to cancel tutoring with Taehyung until after the Ball, much to his dismay. You feel extremely guilty about it, so when you receive a little note from Taehyung requesting you meet him at the bottom of the Quidditch pitch for just a few short moments, you oblige. 

“I thought you hated Quidditch.” Hoseok observes when he spots you awkwardly milling about. The pitch isn’t booked for anything at this hour, but Hobi likes to use the spare hours to get some practice in. He takes his position as Captain very seriously- you’ve seen him in Captain mode a few times and it’s frankly terrifying. Your sweet, kind Hobi all but vanishes the second he settles on a broom. 

“Taehyung asked to meet me here.” You admit. Something flashes across Hobi’s expression, but it’s at that moment that Taehyung chooses to make himself known.

“You came!” Taehyung exclaims breathlessly. His gaze flicks to Hoseok. 

“Oh,” he makes a small noise of surprise. “I kind of meant for you to come alone-“

“Don’t mind me!” Hobi says quickly, holding both hands up. “I actually use the pitch to practice around this time. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

He quickly mounts his broom and kicks off, waving at you. 

“I’ll see you at dinner!” He calls, before zooming off down the pitch. It leaves you and Taehyung alone. 

“What did you want to see me about?” You question. Taehyung winces and fidgets a bit, and for once there’s not a trace of the wide smile he usually adorns. 

“Well, you know how the Ball is coming up?” He reminds you. You nod- you’re on the planning committee, so of course you know, but you refrain from mentioning this to Taehyung. 

“Well,” he continues, and he’s looking oddly flushed. “I was wondering if you needed a date?”

The words ring loudly in the air when he says them. You process them slowly, and then your eyes widen. 

“I...” you begin. Honestly, you hadn’t even entertained the notion that Taehyung would ask you to be his date in your mind. You thought he only saw you as his tutor, and as such, you are properly floored by his request. 

Unfortunately, you never do get to offer Taehyung a response, because your world turns upside down in that exact moment. A loud yell from down the pitch sounds, and you turn to see Hoseok plummeting from his broom at a ridiculously dangerous height. 

The look on your face as you shout a charm to save your friend’s life is answer enough to Taehyung. 

You’ll never see him when Jung Hoseok is right there. 

++

When Hoseok rouses a few hours later in the hospital wing, he’s oddly defensive for someone who just randomly fell off his own broom. 

“What happened, Hobi?” You question, and no doubt your eyes are streaked with tears of distress. You had managed so slow the fall enough to prevent him from dying, but he’d still broken an arm and a rib. 

Hoseok studiously avoids your gaze, and his lips are almost a little pouty- they do that funny little shape that only happens when he’s angry. 

“So, are you going to the ball with Taehyung?” He mumbles, and you’re so thrown by the line of questioning that you can only stare in bafflement. 

Hoseok takes your prolonged silence as a yes. 

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing wrong with him.” He acknowledges. “He’s a Hufflepuff, like you. Nice to a fault, like you. You guys would go well together.”

You’re wondering if maybe the fall did some brain damage as well.

“I know; I know. It’s stupid of me to be jealous. It’s not like you have to go with me. I wasn’t even brave enough to ask you, so that kid has at least two points on me.” He continues on, growing increasingly distressed at your bewildered silence. “And he’s brave too! The bear didn’t work, the clothes didn’t work... I tried that thing where I put my arm around the back of your seat so it looks like we’re together, but he’s so determined!”

His gaze flicks to you. 

“I guess it makes sense for you to go for a Hufflepuff.” He sighs. “A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff? Laughable, right? I was going to try and be different. I was worried everyone would think I’d tricked you into it if I tried anything, but I just ended up resorting to petty tricks, in the end. I- I’m sorry. You deserve someone who knows how to just like you openly and say what they’re feeling.”

By the end of Hoseok’s embarrassed rant, your mouth has gone dry. Slowly, bit by bit, things start to fit together. His strange behaviour- the odd atmosphere whenever Taehyung was around... Hoseok had been jealous. And he was jealous because... because... 

Because he likes you.

“I’m not going to the Ball with Taehyung. I didn’t get a chance to answer because the seventh year Quidditch captain who nearly got scouted for international leagues just randomly fell off his broom for the first time since owning a broom.” You say pointedly. The tips of Hobi’s ears go red, but taking pity on him, you rest your hands gently on the back of his, where they are neatly folded over his blanket. “I would have said no, though.” You confess, and this time it’s your face that goes red. 

You’ve always thought Hoseok is a very Hufflepuff sort of guy, and maybe that’s why you like him so much. 

But you like this side of him too, the awkward guy who had to resort to silly tricks to get the girl he likes to notice him. Even if it’s silly and proves that you were maybe wrong in your impression about him, it just means there’s so many more things to learn about him. And you can’t wait to start figuring it out.

“I was hoping a certain seventh year Slytherin would ask me.” You confess, and Hobi’s answering smile is brighter than the sun

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Small Actions (Create Big Ripples) CC!Plat!Ranboo x GN!Reader

I've been thinking lately about this little drabble and it makes me a bit upset? Like.. I'm in this position high key but theres nothing I can do about it...

(R/R/n) stands for Ranboo's real name. Also if you're really tall.... No you're not. Shhhh. For plot purposes

You stayed away from social media as much as possible. Now, don't get me wrong, you used to love watching Youtubers play their games and happily interact with their fans.. But growing up, you never seemed to have enough money to donate when they streamed, or go to events where they were.

You had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped you through life, or shaped your personality.. Or saved you. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it..

You'd probably just get a simple, "Aw. Happy I could help." Before turning back to their game without blinking twice.

So, you just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show your appreciation.. But you never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'

Eventually it hurt too much to keep watching the content creators that raised you, so you just stopped and went on with your life.

It was hard, but at least you didn't have to deal with the fact that you would never be able to thank the people you watched for making your life that much better.

As time went on, while you still heard about the creators, it was just... less. Now people were non stop blabbering about these people from something called the DreamSMP?

Your sister was obsessed with it to say the least, and you always heard her mumbling about strange people like Technoblade? Or Sapnap? And apparently some people had children with inanimate objects?! Like a Samsung Fridge and a salmon?! Yeah you didn't even bother trying to understand what she was rambling about most of the times. It just spun your head in circles.

"Okay, I gotta take my mutt to the vet," Your sister and closest friend, (S/n), tilted her head towards the backseat to her dog as you sat in the passenger seat. "You think you'll be good to do the shopping for two or so hours? I'll call when I'm finished, and plus I know how you can get distracted with looking at some things."

"Yeah, I think I'll be good." You nodded slightly, going over the list in your hand of things to get for your classes, food and just some clothing for the changing seasons.

(S/n) pulled into the parking lot and looked you over briefly, "You forgot your mask didn't you?" She watched as your hands flew up to your face to feel for the fabric, but you didn't find it so you fished through the pockets of your sweater before smiling nervously at the driver. "Uuugggggggghhhh. Of course. Okay, I got a new one from the merch store that you can use, but do not damage it! I spent a whole $30 on it!"

Scoffing as you rolled your eyes, you snagged the half white and half black mask away from her, "You and your merch. Honestly, (S/n), your obsession scares me. But anyway, thanks. I won't get it damaged, I swear." You pulled the mask onto your face after giving her a smile and walked into the store as she drove off.

Sighing slightly, you walked in, sanitized your hands, and set off on your journey to find the things you needed. Surprisingly, today seemed to be a good day as you miraculously pulled the card that didn't have the busted wheel!

Humming a soft tune to yourself, you paced up and down aisles in search of (S/n)'s favourite coffee. Pausing for a moment as you scanned the shelves, you finally spotted it and made a noise of anger as you realized it was on the very top shelf. "Oh, I hate it here..." You mumbled, a phrase you had picked up from your sister who was really big on trends like that.

Grumbling to yourself, you stood on the tips of your toes, jumped up and down, even climbed the shelves a small bit, but it just seemed to brush by your fingertips every time. Apparently it had been long enough to the point where someone had wandered into the aisle as well.

"Hey... Uh.. Nice mask? You need help?" A male voice asked very hesitantly making your head turn towards him. He was t a l l and literally could tower over you if you got close enough. He had fluffy dirty blonde hair possibly? It looked a little damp so you couldn't really tell. Rain had been in the weather report, but guess it couldn't hold off long enough. Oddly enough, he was wearing dark sunglasses and the exact same mask as you?

'Maybe he's a fan of one of (S/n)'s fandoms?' You stepped back with a sheepish smile and a blush. "Oh! Yes please! Uhm.. Also, could you tell me about what these masks represent? This is my sister's... And I kinda want to make sure I'm not looking like I'm part of some gang or something."

The tall boy reached up for the coffee before pausing midway through and looking at you in surprise. "You don't know who... Oh, it's just from a Twitch Streamer.." He murmured rather softly as he got the coffee down for you.

With a cheerful "Thank you!" You placed the container in the cart. "Oh? Yeah that makes sense. My sister loves that kind of stuff. Are they... A good person?"

"I-I'd like to think so." He nodded quickly. "Are you not.. Like, a fan of content creators? Like.. Uh.. Dream or (P/F/C)?" (Past favourite creator)

"Well... I mean I used to really like (p/f/c) when I was younger. But it kind of... Saddened me, you know?"

He looked at you again and tilted his head a bit, "Saddened you? Did they do something bad?"

"No no! It's just... I try to avoid joining fandoms, even if they make me really happy while in them despite the toxicity. I really enjoy the people who create content, and I like watching them have fun... It's just.." Were you really gonna spill some personal stuff to some stranger who showed you the slightest bit of kindness? Not originally. But he kept watching you, patiently waiting for you to continue the sentence. "They'll... Never know.. How much they saved me."

"Oh.. I see. Yeah.. I've had that happen a lot. When, I watch this guy's streams," He pulled at his mask for a moment, "People always donate money and tell him how much they appreciate him for getting them through rocky times.. It's heartwarming to say the least but he does sound genuinely thankful."

"Oh that's sweet.. What does he do? Or what's he like?" You asked with a smile, although he couldn't see it, as you crouched down to get something from the sheleves. "Unless you have places to be of course!"

He looked a little surprised at first, "Ah... I got time. It's just.. Kinda nice being able to talk to people again after quarantine..." He trailed off briefly before taking something off the shelf as well and putting it in his basket, "Uh.. The streamer is a popular minecraft player. He recently hit a record during a stream and everyone lost their minds. He's a little painfully awkward at some points but he enjoys playing the games and interacting with his chat."

"Oh he sounds nice! I would definitely want to friends with someone like him!" You chuckled softly before frowning and glancing away. "Oh.. Popular.. So I'd be another comment in the flood of a chat.. Damn. I got a little excited. Oh! My bad, I'm (Y/n). Nice to meet you!" You laughed softly in an attempt to brush off the sad atmosphere you made.

"(R/r/n). But everyone just calls me Ranboo. Nice to meet you too." He sounded as if he was smiling but there was a soft sadness in his tone. "Do you not like popular streamers then?"

"No, it's just... that I had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped me through life, or shaped my personality.. Or saved me.. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it.. I suppose it just left me feeling a bit hopeless and like a broken record of every other fan of theirs. So, I just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show appreciation.. But I never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'.."

Ranboo seemed slightly more upset and he shifted his basket into his other hand, "I don't think it's like that at all.. I believe that streamers and creators truly cherish anyone who even interacts with their videos, and even though they know there's some people in the world who can't say anything or buy their merchandise, the creators still know that they're there. They appreciate everyone who comes along their path, whether they support them by giving them money, criticism or their attention!"

You blinked at how... Passionate your new friend was about this topic before smiling softly. "I guess... It never passed my mind.. Thank you Ranboo.. Hey, you wanna be friends and get to know each other more?"

His expression was unreadable due to the fabric covering his mouth and nose, and the glasses covering his eyes. "Oh! Sure!" He sounded quite happy, so you were guessing that you weren't being too awkward. "Here's my number, as long as you promise to never give it to anyone. Even if someone wants to get to know me, okay?"

You took out your phone and looked at him with a strange expression, but quickly nodded. 'Maybe he is just really strict about his privacy.' Once he gave you the number, you sent a quick text to him to give him your contact in return. "Great! It was wonderful meeting you, I hope we can hang out more often! After.. covid of course."

Eagerly nodding, Ranboo finished writing your contact into his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Oh yeah definitely! I'll see you soon, (Y/n)!"

Parting your separate ways, you looked down at the newly added contact, 🤍Ranboo🖤 (Platonic hearts), with a smile.

Maybe small actions weren't as useless as you thought...

[illyaana]

Cursive Ink - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Collab: Pain Tolerance by @haikyutiehoe

Thanks for making this collab, hun! the idea of pierced and/or tatted anime characters got me squealing~! Do check out the other works involved in the collab in the link up there~

Tags: Yamaguchi's POV, Angst, Fluff, Yamaguchi x Tattoo Artist! Reader, Binaural

Synopsis: Love never really goes the way we plan it to be - and Yamaguchi was no exception. His failed confession to his former best friend left him heartbroken. However, his decision to go to a tattoo parlour may have been the best (and craziest) choice he's ever made in his life. (I also believe Yamaguchi is pansexual, so don't get so confused XD)

Word Count: 2552

A bit of context: In Japanese, 'Yama' means mountain, 'Tsuki' means the Moon

⋯⋯ ⫍ Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Want to get a personalized drabble about your love life with an anime character you like? Check out my 50 followers event's post here! You can choose any character from BNHA, Haikyu!!, AOT, JJK and Kuroko no Basketball <3

“Yamaguchi, no,” Tsukishima said, pulling his hand away from my hand.

“Why are you lying to yourself? I know you feel the same way, Tsuki - don’t lie to yourself.”

“I don’t, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said, eyes turning cold, “I am not gay - I am a straight, heterosexual male. I love women and women only.”

Lies.

You are lying to me.

You are in love with me.

You are already mine, Tsuki - just wake up and see it.

I know you can.

what was that kiss under the tree when we were kids?” I whispered, not wanting my voice to break, “If you never loved me, why kiss me, Tsuki?”

“We both agreed that it was a mistake, didn’t we?” The blonde male said, anger rising, “We both agreed - not just me.”

I said yes - I know I did.

That doesn’t mean I meant it.

You know me, Tsuki - I’ll agree to everything you’ll say.

Why aren’t you realising it?

I’ve waited for so many years for you to ask me out, but you never did.

I’m here, right in front of you, asking you to be mine - just say yes.

I don’t want to wait anymore - it’s too painful.

“I lied, okay?!” I scream, “I loved you ever since we were kids, Tsuki. I want to be the one you come back to when you leave, the only one you kiss, the only one you hug, the only one you dream about - I want to be that to you. Is that so hard to believe?!”

I hugged myself, not wanting to break down anymore.

That small hug was the only thing stopping me from letting all hell break loose.

I had kept this in ever since I knew Tsuki - ever since he saw him in that park.

I knew everything about the tall male. The way he smiles, the way he hides his anger when he wants to be respectful, his secret love for dinosaurs, his soft side, his small quirks - I knew it all like the back of his hand.

I knew what he needed to be the middle blocker’s lover, and I was willing to sacrifice myself to be the best thing for Tsuki.

One thing was clear in my head; Tsuki felt the exact same way.

“Yamaguchi, I’m sorry. I don’t love you the way you want me to,” Tsukishima said, kneeling beside the green-haired male.

“I don’t believe that.”

I forced his lips on Tsukishima’s.

I closed my eyes, trying to memorise how the lines of his soft and pale lips felt on his - how it softly caressed my lips without even responding to the intimate kiss I was trying to initiate.

I felt Tsukishima trying to push me away, but I didn’t let go of the male’s collar.

He already took my first kiss - what is the difference if I took another?

The second our lips left each other’s, Tsukishima punched my nose.

Blood dripped from my nose, but I couldn’t care less.

“Don’t you fucking call me Tsuki ever again, dumbass. Better yet, don’t call me.”

My last day of high school ended with blood and tears, but the pain in my heart from losing my best friend hurt more.

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I stared at the stars, lying down in the little treehouse we made as kids in my backyard.

I tried to cry it all out, but I couldn’t.

I feel cheated by you, Tsukishima Kei.

You made me make you my everything.

My voice was tuned to calm you down.

My hands we moulded to keep you warm.

My life was made to keep you safe, but you don’t need me to be you.

But I do - I need you to be me.

One-sided crushes are the worst form of love, aren’t they?

You give it all for that one person - to please and cherish them.

They just think it’s just a form of showing how strong your friendship is, but you want more.

You are the only one who wants more.

You are the one crying at night about how you wished they were by your side.

You are the one craving for their touch.

You want them, but they don’t want you.

I don’t care about you bruising my face, Tsukishima-san.

I care about you fucking me up like this.

I will no longer wait for your messages.

I will no longer look at your tweets and be the only one giving reactions.

I will erase you from my narrative, Tsukishima-san.

You can wonder about how much you’ve hurt me when I have reached somewhere you can’t even touch me.

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“You are absolutely sure about this, right?” Hinata said, worry laced in his words.

I open the doors to the tattoo parlour and I was instantly mesmerized. The walls were filled with such intricate designs - sizes ranging from as small as a finger to as big as my whole body. The smell of fresh ink slowly hit me, reminding me of my schooling years.

“I am sure, Hinata. I was planning to do this ever since I was small, either way. I just wished it was under better circumstances,” I reply, eyes locked on all the flower motifs.

I always wanted a tattoo - it didn’t matter how big or small it was. I always thought of how beautiful the idea was - to have something permanently inked on your skin to remind you of who you were. Flowers drew with such hidden meaning, curved lines speaking words of poetry, ideas brought into life - tattoos are an artist’s masterpiece meant to paint on my skin as a canvas.

“Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind waiting here with you - “

“Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Kageyama later today?” I remind him, chuckling.

“That man is late for everything. I think he can handle me coming late for once.”

“I’m seriously okay, Hinata! Go get ready, I’ll send a picture when it’s done,” I say as I push him out of the shop.

“Okay, okay - make sure to send me that picture!” He said as he ran out of the shop.

Why follow me if you’re itching to leave?

“That friend of yours has really bright orange hair - is it dyed or natural?” I hear someone say.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

“Oh - uh- um- It’s natural,” I say, forming some space between us.

Holy shit, you’re hot.

You tied half of your hair in a small bun, showing me the small, intricate designs on your neck. Flowers decorated your soft skin, moving down under your shirt’s sleeve. Small golden piercings decorated your ears. They were encrusted with gems of various colours that shifted under the soft lighting gracing your skin.

You looked so beautiful I couldn’t stop staring.

“So, do you have an appointment?” You asked, breaking my train of thought.

“N- no.”

Stop stuttering, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“First time, huh?” you smiled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The pain is different for everyone, but I think you can handle it.”

“T-Thanks.”

God, stop stuttering.

“God, you’re cute,” you laughed while looking at my frazzled face, “Don’t worry, my dearest client - you’re in capable hands. Come - let’s discuss your design, shall we?”

You grabbed my wrist and brought me to your corner, leaving me blushed mess.

Cute.

They called me cute.

I’m breathing, right?

Okay, I’m breathing.

As we were walking, I got to see the back of your neck - more specifically, a part of your tattoo.

It was a blossoming rose - a huge one. It had vines that grew from it, encircling your whole neck, moving down your shirt and reaching the tips of your fingers. Smaller roses grew from it, branching even smaller vines surrounded by leaves.

I wanted to know the story behind that tattoo. It looked so beautiful yet so dark. The thorns that came from certain vines alarmed me, but I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was brought to your piercings - more specifically, the design of the encrusted jewels. They were flowers, as well. In the middle of each jewel held a line of gold that branched out, just like the vines of your tattoo.

“Oh, you’re looking at my tattoo and piercings, aren’t you?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Is it okay if I am?” I ask, worried.

You laughed.

“Of course it’s fine. Who would get a tattoo and not prepare for all the staring? Not going to lie, here - these piercings and that tattoo help me fuel my ego. After all, everyone’s staring at them,” you joke, playing with your hair.

You sit on your chair, pointing at the one opposite you.

“What are you waiting for? Sit.”

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⁜

“So, you want some small vines surrounding a moon, right?” You ask as you brought out your tablet.

“Yeah, on my middle finger.”

I had enough of his little orders - I’ll twist his words into something much more meaningful. If the Moon isn’t willing to dance with the mountains, let the vines make the Moon feel the mountain’s pain from its rejection.

“That sounds really pretty,” you say, smiling at me, “Give me a minute - I’ll do a rough sketch and you can tell me if it’s to your liking.”

You took out the tablet’s pen tool and began to sketch. I eyed your eyes as you continued to sketch what would be my tattoo.

Thanks to the light from the tablet, I could see a part of another tattoo hidden under your shirt.

It was multiple birds flying across your collarbones, but there was one bird that moved to your neck. It was a smaller bird - much, much smaller. However, its wings were bigger - bigger than the other birds’.

“My family isn’t very appreciative of my more artistic side,” you began, knowing I wanted to know the story behind it.

“I love art - all types of art. Writing, drawing, painting - I loved how you could make a whole new world just with a few lines. My family…” you paused, “As much as they loved me, they couldn’t see a world where I could make a living from it. They tried to throw away this side of me, but the more they pushed it away, the more I needed it.”

You raised your tablet, showing me your sketch.

I loved it.

It was a crescent moon, wrapped in vines. Vines grew both upwards and below, accompanied by stars. Small buds were growing from the ends of the vines, leaves surrounding them.

I don’t know how you did it, but you captured all I felt about him in a few minutes - it astounded me.

“I took a few creative liberties, but-”

“It’s amazing - don’t change it.”

You’re amazing.

You smiled, getting off your chair.

“Head to that room,” you pointed to the smaller room right beside us, “I’ll get all the tools ready.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

“You ready?” you said, placing the pen right above my middle finger.

Why did I choose my middle finger for my first tattoo? It’s literally right on a bone, it’s going to hurt like hell.

“I guess…” I whisper.

“It won’t be that painful - trust me. People overexaggerate,” you say, trying to calm me down.

People weren’t overexaggerating - it hurt.

It hurt a lot.

I bit my lip, holding back the scream on the end of my lips.

“Hold on,” you said, removing the pen.

You soon came back with candy and began to unwrap it.

“Open your mouth, my liege.”

After chuckling, I opened my mouth and you plopped the sweet in my mouth.

Ooh, mango.

“Focus on the sweet, okay?” You said, patting my back.

It felt less painful, surprisingly. Focusing on the sweet rolling in my mouth helped reduce the pain significantly.

I raised my head slightly so that I could see your intense focus on my finger. You were biting on your lower lip as you slowly moved the pen on my finger, following the temporary tattoo you made earlier as a guide. You were annoyed by a strand of your hair that refused to stay behind on your ear - your anger-filled expression said it all.

Using my other hand, I pushed it behind your ear to help you focus.

A soft thank you came from you as you continued.

Blood rushed to my cheeks the minute those words left your lips.

So cute.

“You didn’t finish your story…” I asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

“It was that interesting to you?” you smiled.

You’re interesting, Y/N.

I nod.

“I asked them if I could draw again. I didn’t want to lose that skill I finetuned all my life - it felt so wrong. They thought I’d never succeed in life if I focused on ‘these useless hobbies’ and shouted at me. I remember crying for hours, but they didn’t care,” you say as you turn off the pen, wiping the tip.

“I began to spend more hours in school just so that I could scribble and draw. They’d never know what I did there - all the drawings I did, all the stories I wrote, all the songs I sang. I am not like my parents. I strayed from the thought of ‘art is useless’- I am the bird moving away from the flock,” you said, turning your chair towards me.

“Why did they hate art? It’s something that makes you happy - If it’s something you like, you should do it,” I said, slightly pissed.

Thank God they didn’t listen to them.

“Best part - they have paintings all over the house,” you snickered.

You sighed, stretching your arms in the process.

“I don’t really care about their opinion about it, anyway. I’m no longer under their wing - I’m my own person. I get money by doing the thing I love, and that’s so fulfilling. The only thing they’re paying for right now is my college education - that’s it,” you said as you pressed a wet cloth to my new tattoo.

“Wait - we’re the same age?”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled.

“I expected you to be way older,” I say, embarrassed.

“I am utterly offended, sir,” you say, feigning sadness.

“Come on!” I say, laughing.

“I am expecting a tip,” you say, walking towards the door.

You’re amazing, Y/N. I just wish I met you earlier…

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⁜

⁜

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Yamaguchi Tadashi,” you say, closing the cash register in front of you.

“And I you, my friend.”

I walk to the door, gripping on the door handle.

I want you in my life, Y/N. Even if we spent just a few hours together, you’ve made me so happy. If you are open to the idea, I want to be friends with you - and who knows? We might become something…

I walk back to the cashier.

“Oh, did I forget something?” You ask, worried.

“No, no…”

Come on, say it.

“Hey, wanna exchange numbers? I wanna hang out with you - of course, only if you want to,” you say smiling.

Holy shit.

“Yes, please.”

You held back your laugh the minute you saw my face.

How many times have I made you laugh just by you looking at my face?

“Here’s my number,” you passed me your card, “Message me so that I get your number, too!”

“Okay!” I smile.

Holy shit. I did it.

“See you again, ‘guchi.”

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[collisiondiscourse]

battle scars || a deku & class 1-A drabble

(A quick drabble talking about members of class 1-A, the scars they share, and the love that heals them. TW for descriptions of violence and both external and internal injuries.)

There isn't a single hero that Deku knows of who doesn't have scars.

They aren't stigmatized, no not at all. No one who's ever seen a hero in action before thinks that scars are ugly. In hero society, scars are celebrated. Admired, adored, worshipped--whatever connotates the wearer to something positive. In a world where suffering and self-sacrifice are glorified, scars are a mark of beauty.

Even then though, Izuku Midoriya can't help but think that his scars are better off hidden.

He knows, god does he know, that everyone has their own wounds and injuries. Little divots here, the occasional prosthetic there--everyone he knows is marked in some way that reminds the world that they are still human where it matters. They aren't gods or faces off a product--just average traumatized people who unfortunately love humanity more than they love themselves.

Class 1-A being no exception.

Mina, for example, has burns. Big burns, small burns, burns of all shapes and sizes that litter her body like the pattern of the hero costume she wears. A few too many evil scientists with interests in chemistry like to think that their knowledge gives them the upper hand, but the Alien Queen always proves them wrong.

One of her horns is chipped, and when she gets drunk she admits that her sense of sight might be going. Sometimes, the scars sting, but the sweet ache of her body as she nails another dance routine reminds her that there's more to the world than how people look. When she begins to forget that, Kirishima claps loudly as she lands another pirouette.

Kaminari is dotted from head to toe in Lichtenberg scars. It's something that surprises no one, and something the blond feels no shame in showing off at any given moment. The lightning patterned marks are most prevalent along his forearms and palms, every hug from him feeling rough but safe nonetheless.

Occasionally, due to one too many brain fries, he'll have days where his mind doesn't seem like it's all there and memories fade like footprints in the sand. On those days, Denki lays down and Jirou runs her hands through electric blond hair while humming a soft and sweet tune.

Kirishima's scars run like cracks. They splinter and have ridges that look very much like his own quirk. Most of them are very faint and shallow, getting more focused and deep around his chest and forearms as he held firm against countless unrelenting attacks.

After one too many nosebleeds, the red-head finds out that he's way more prone to internal wounds from the way his organs deal with shock absorption less adaptively than his skin and bones do. Eijirou's tense muscles eventually learn to relax under the gentle caring massages from an exasperated Mina.

Iida, on the other hand, has a prosthetic. An unfortunate and horrible incident left him missing half a leg after pissing off a Stain-inspired villain who was a little too much like her idol. He's much less scarred (a benefit of his full-bodied armor), but Deku still sometimes sees the way he struggles to breathe.

Internal scars from internal wounds similar to Kirishima's make his body sometimes forget that he's stopped running. Tenya wears these scars with responsibility and blushes whenever he greets an enthusiastic Hatsume Mei for his monthly prosthetic maintenance check.

Uraraka has scars all over her fingers. Nicks and slices from where people tried to render her quirk useless by taking off a finger. She has a star-shaped mark on the right side of her forehead from where a building caved in and shattered her helmet.

Neat little slashes run up and down her ankles and soles of her feet from lucky shots people had before she floated away. Ochako wears these scars with ferocity and pride, adorning them in pink band-aids that Toga sometimes scratches at when the brunette comes to visit her in jail.

Todoroki is... a little different. The scar over his right eye is a lot more faded, yet still there. It grew up with him, healed and faded at the edges like the wounds in his heart, but not forgotten because of how it made him who he is. He has burns of all types adorned around his body--caused either by his own quirk or others.

He also often gets sick when he overexerts himself like the hopeless workaholic Big Three member he is. Yaoyorozu and Inasa visit him on those sick days, bringing light and chicken soup into his big empty home.

Bakugou's a lot similar to Deku. Their families and friends have noticed that if you put a diagram of their bodies side by side with markings of their injuries, it wouldn't exactly be a mirror image, but seemingly two parts of a puzzle clicking together. The blond had all sorts of scars around his body, a hazard that came with the title of Japan's Symbol of Victory.

There were deep lashes on his back, marks of muzzles and handcuffs from attempt after attempt of kidnappings and ransom hostages. On his forearms were twin bracelet scars, from an especially ruthless villain that attempted to cut his hands off in an effort to eliminate his quirk. Over his torso were two faint pink marks shaped like explosions, both from the first time he sacrificed himself for Deku.

Bakugou had similar aches on his shoulders and neck from overuse and recoil whenever he'd pushed himself too quick and too soon. Kacchan would scoff at the notion of hiding his scars and treat the pain with a quick home-cooked meal, fingers twitching when Deku would plop himself on the counter and ask about his latest shift.

But Deku?

Deku hid well. He hid because it was his habit to deceive and alter his appearance--covering things up with a simple black arm band because in the grand scheme of things there were some secrets best left unseen. Deku wore long sleeves and concealer over his skin like it was a suit of armor, hiding the rawest parts of him because even as he grew and climbed his way to the top, a part of him always remembered that the burden he carries is too heavy to let be seen.

So he hides.

He hides the way burns litter his skin from trying to contain the inferno that is OfA and walking through fire to bring civillians home. He hides the Lichtenberg scars and the way green lightning sometimes crackles hard enough to make him flinch as he fights his way through unbeatable hoards of enemis. He hides the prosthetics, the way his arms gave out on him quite a while ago, forcing them to be replaced and improved. He hides the way people have tried to tear him apart and steal his burden for themselves.

One for All was his greatest gift and most painful curse.

Some nights he trembles and shakes, muscles spasming in effort to just simply keep going. Shivers run up and down his spine because with every injury his blood circulation worsens and worsens until cold and pain is all that he feels. Izuku will sometimes walk around, scars hurting and throbbing hot white under his skin, and look for medication that dulls the ache and makes him go a little less crazy.

Hands mindlessly running over bumps and edges, scars from villains and friends and debris and growth spurts. He would stand in front of a mirror like a house of cards and pull himself apart, reflection making him detest himself from how gnarled and ugly and imperfect he was.

"--No, my boy. Not imperfect." The tall and gaunt figure of his old mentor would tut. Thin and skeletal fingers would grasp the bottom of a white shirt and lift it up, gently revealing a scar so deep it almost looks like a crater. "Not imperfect at all. For people like us, your scars make you far more than just a hero."

Deku, of course, would hum in resignation. He looks at All Might--no, Toshinori Yagi with a skeptical look and the retired hero would smile.

"You are... a miracle."

And just like that, Deku would be brought back to being 14 years old, quirkless and desperate. He's on his knees, looking at the Symbol of Peace in his true form--thin and pale but still oh so powerful. A voice tells him that there is a destiny he has far greater than he'll ever realize, an adventure that awaits him through the old skinny man with unruly blond hair.

Izuku didn't see weakness that day, no.

He saw hope.

So now, even as Pro-Hero Deku hides away the parts of himself that are broken and raw from the world he protects, he finds his cure all the same. In the arms of those who are warm and familiar, Deku sheds his armor, his foundation, his long sleeves--

and he is simply Izuku.

He is Izuku who gets spa days and yoga sessions with Ashido, Denki, and Eijirou that stops his muscles from spasming on days where it gets unbearable. He is Izuku who gets tender massages and hearty midnight snack runs with Ochako and Tenya when nightmares and visions just won't let him sleep. He is Izuku who gets soup and warm borrowed hoodies from Shouto and Kacchan when stress makes him keel over and shudder at the thought of working. He is Izuku who gets big warm hugs and a fierce movie marathon with his loving mother and mentor who is his father in all but name.

He is Izuku, riddled with scars that still heal.

[fluri-above-all]

ToV Rarepair Drabble - Scars

One of the oneshot prompts I've seen lately was about scars. And I've been wanting to write Harry x Ioder again ever since @nagia36 brought up one of my old drabbles...Harry doesn't really get the attention he deserves so I wrote this to make it up to him.

Warning for suggestive themes.

Scars

Harry’s body held scars. 

The first was across the bridge of his nose and honestly…he couldn’t remember how it happened. Yeager had told him once it was from crying so much while he was a baby that the tears created the cut turned scar as they fell. This had prompted further crying from the very young blonde. 

His grandfather later pat him on the head (and whacked Yeager upside his) and proceeded to tell him even he did not know how Harry got it. When Garry's family was driven out of their hometown, he’d reunited with Harry and his mother and the mark had already marred his unconscious face. His mother had had a mental breakdown and disappeared one night, taking the secret with her. With his memories of that day unknown and lost to him, Harry eventually came to simply accept the scar as one of the earliest parts of himself. It was his “favorite” if he had to pick one. 

There were also scars that were not his favorite. They adorned his back, parts of his chest and even the side of his neck. These were from skirmishes, battles and attacks on his life. The ones on his chest weren’t visible with his clothes on, even with his shirt barely covering his torso. The scar on his neck was small, from a younger part of his life when someone had foolishly tried to take him hostage. Their plan would have worked, had they not nicked Harry in the neck and set the guilds into frenzy. It was one of the few times he had ever seen his grandfather look truly angry, “seeing red” is what he’d later come to recognize it as. 

Since that day no one has tried to kidnap or capture the young man. That incident was probably why….

It could also be from the size Harry had grown during his years of rebuilding himself as well...but he liked to think the terrors of Altosk had spooked his assailants away.

One of the scars on his back was up by his shoulder, where the tusk of a large monster had snagged him from behind and pinned him to the ground. Harry winces even now just thinking about that particular instance. 

The oddest scar of all – In Harry’s opinion anyway – was on his ankle. A blood-thirsty group of bandits had attempted – very poorly – to attack the still inexperienced Don on his trip through the desert. One of the bandits speared him in the ankle with a harpoon gun, the retraction dragged Harry several feet before Raven and the other members of Altosk dispatched the group. When the weather gets cold, he can feel the irritation in his foot from the long scarred over wound. It was his “least favorite” if he had to pick. 

Still, the young Don of 23 years took pride in his scars. They were symbols depicting an exciting (and often dangerous) life, proof that through all he had endured, he was strong. And more importantly, he was still here. He'd been stabbed in the back, attacked head on, pulled against his will, and yet, he was still standing tall. 

Harry had never been particularly close with death; none of the wounds engraved on his body were life-threatening. If anything, people would say he had Lady Luck on his side. He'd scoff at that, being a man who believed in carving his own path and not fate…

Still...

That didn’t mean he was itching to meet his maker enough to test it. As reckless as he could be he had no desire to push the limits of his life. It was something precious that had been fought for and sacrificed his whole life. And through those scars, he knew they were signs that represented those who had lost their life for him…It meant their sacrifice was not in vain. He would continue to fight. No matter what it took. 

It was his relentless and unwavering ability to never back down that made Ioder worry – he knew that. 

The first time they had made love he’d hesitated to show himself to the other blonde. Harry wondered if the young Emperor would find him grotesque with his marred skin, a dark contrast to Ioder’s pale perfection. But Ioder said nothing about them, even kissed the one across his collarbone. 

Harry didn’t want to admit it, but the tender intimacy made his pulse quicken and his body waver slightly. 

Who knew a person’s bitter scars could elicit such a sweet reaction? Certainly not Harry. He didn’t think his body could ever be so sensitive to another’s touch, especially with his scars. 

It was yet another surprise that kept Harry wrapped around the Emperor’s finger – contrary to everyone’s opinion of Ioder being swept away by Harry. It was another surprise and a secret Harry wanted to keep to himself. 

But Ioder had ways of figuring him out. 

And he was always so damn sneaky about it too...

The day was innocent enough (as always), Ioder was signing off paperwork at his desk and Harry was lying on the nearby couch. He'd come unannounced so Ioder had insisted Harry be patient and wait for him to finish. It was fairly hot outside, so even with the window open, save for the occasional breeze, it was almost unbearable. 

Except Ioder appeared perfectly fine. 

And for some reason, that irritated Harry. The Emperor wore considerably more when it came to his attire and not only that, the material was bulkier as well. 

“Aren’t you hot?!” Harry cried out, unable to take the heat of the room any longer. Just looking at Ioder made him sweat. The sudden sound of Harry’s voice must have startled Ioder, because he had blinked several times in shocked confusion. 

“Ah forget it, you’re not even paying attention are you…” Harry accused, knowing Ioder had a way of tuning everything out once ensconced in his work. 

“Don’t apologize either.” He added as he saw the gears turning in Ioder’s head. The Emperor likely realized he was not being the best of hosts at the moment. Stretching his arms above his head, Harry elicited a yawn and removed his vest. With the dark garment discarded, he already felt immensely better. 

And while he was at it, he might as well make himself comfortable. Untucking his shirt, Harry’s hands moved to pull the shirt over his head – 

“What are you doing?” Ioder questioned - eyes wide as he regarded the young Don mid shirt removal. 

“I’m taking my shirt off.” Harry answered simply. He opened his mouth to question if there was a problem but then he had to briefly consider where he was. 

Oh that’s right…people are worried about propriety here….

He lifted the shirt up and off anyways,  dropping it on the couch next to him. 

“Harry!” Ioder scolded, face a light shade of pink as he tried not to stare too intently. 

“It’s hot.” Harry regarded with a shrug. “Besides….” He turned his head to the side, a suggestive look on his face. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before.” Harry withheld the smirk threatening to burst forth at the way Ioder’s cheeks flushed before he looked away. The young Don chuckled to himself, smug with this victory. Ioder went back to work once his face returned to a normal shade, but Harry wasn’t making things easy for him. 

Perhaps it was a low blow, distracting Ioder the way he was with his bare torso. 

And the young Emperor was certainly distracted. He stole the occasional glance as Harry sat back to lounge on the couch once more, the Don feeling quite relieved with his skin exposed. With all the sun he’d soaked up recently, his skin had tanned considerably, especially the front of his chest where he showed most of his muscled chest. 

Now Harry wasn’t a narcissist, but he couldn’t help but admit it was a pretty damn good look on him. Catching Ioder staring out the corner of his eye was all the confirmation that he needed. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Ioder’s pen as he wrote, a contented bliss took over him at how comfortable things had become with a few simple garments removed. 

In fact, he almost drifted off to sleep.

Almost.

The sound of Ioder’s chair shuffling back switched his brain back into alertness. Maybe he was taking a break? Ioder sometimes scooted the chair back to get more room to stretch. 

However he didn’t hear the groan come as it normally did when Ioder did this. Instead, he felt the presence of the young Emperor much closer to him than before. Harry opened his eyes to see what Ioder was up to when the other blonde was actually right in front of him. 

“Iod-“

Harry tried to sit up to ask what was wrong when Ioder pushed Harry’s shoulders back against the couch, the Emperor lifting his legs to straddle him. 

“It’s not nice to tease.” Ioder scolded, but it lacked the disciplinary bite it usually did when he was reprimanding the young Don. Instead it held a hint of mischief, with no short amount of lust. 

Harry had to admit – Ioder lasted much longer than he thought he would. The Don’s arms wrapped around Ioder’s waist, drawing the other man closer. “You know I have every intention of following through…” he answered, voice low and suggestive.

He stretched up to kiss Ioder but Ioder leaned down instead, placing a soft kiss on the tiny scar on the side of his neck, warm hands lightly tracing the sensitive flesh across his once injured collarbone and chest. The sudden physical contact elicited a moan Harry hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Pliant lips rested against the young Don’s ear, warm breath causing Harry to shutter as Ioder spoke. 

“Not if I don’t let you.”

The tanned blonde raised an eyebrow in inquiry. Ioder – Mr. Pacifist – able to subdue someone twice his size? He’s seen Ioder talk down people much stronger than him, but Harry? Did he really think he had an edge over him that would keep him submissive?

Ioder seemed to sense Harry’s apprehension and Harry could almost feel the smirk coming from behind his calm expression. “I notice things about you too Harry.” He kissed along Harry’s jaw, sending sparks down the Don’s spine. “I’d noticed this a while ago but…” Ioder trailed off as he kissed down the other blonde’s neck. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, finding he didn’t much mind letting the young Emperor take the reins now and then.

“But?” Harry inquired, leaning his head back to allow Ioder better access. 

Hands traveled down Harry’s sides to the dip of his hips, tracing gently over the scar along his hip bone. Harry’s eyes shot open as he bucked his waist up at Ioder’s touch, a soft gasp escaping his mouth. 

“But you really like it when I touch your scars like that.” 

If looks could kill….well…Harry could never kill Ioder, but he certainly wanted to upend him from his lap and wipe that smug expression off his face. 

“I’ll touch them all you’d like later, so be patient and wait for me to finish my work so there won’t be any distractions. Okay?” Ioder asked, lips curled up in a sickeningly innocent smile. His actions betrayed that sweet smile however, as his fingers gently traced Harry’s chest.

“You say that…but you’re not stopping…” Harry pointed out. 

Ioder’s smile turns into a bit of a smirk. “You don’t sound like you’re complaining….”

“Got nothing to complain about.” Harry smirks back, hands moving to Ioder’s waist. Before they can find purchase however, Ioder pulls back, sauntering off to his desk and leaving Harry slightly miffed.

He does take a small bit of satisfaction in the way Ioder squirms uncomfortably in his seat, face slightly flushed. 

Good, he is affected by it…

Harry settles back onto the couch, heat long forgotten as he tries to calm down his hard-on.

How could he let such a weakness become apparent? And how could Ioder use it against him like that?

And why was he strangely alright with all of it?

Those would have to be answers for another time, but for now…

He settled for simply enjoying the way his scars buzzed from Ioder's lingering touch and the anticipation of things to come once Ioder finished his work.

[nony-bear]

A Perfect Ending To A Terrible Day - Johnny Storm (blurb)

This blog and ALL posts are for people 18 + ONLY.

Gif By: @forchrisevans // Dividers Found Here

Parings: Johnny Storm X Reader

Warnings: Anxiety / Depression, problems at work, kissing. (Not much, this is mostly fluff.)

Word Count: 1026

Summary: After a terrible day at work, johnny comes over to cheer you up.

A/N: Hi everyone! I was super excited when I got this request, but I’ve never written for Johnny before, so I hope it’s okay! I know it was kind of short, but I felt like since it was my first time writing for him, a little blurb or drabble would be best! Anyways it would be awesome if you guys could let me know what you think! My inbox is always open and has anonymous mode available, so please feel free to drop in anytime about literally anything (even requests!) I’d love to hear from you all! And thank you all for the mass amount of support I received on my oneshot! I am still so shocked at how well it did, and I appreciate all of you so much!

Your body feels like dead weight as you slump down onto your bed. Before your face even hits the pillows, you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Today was the worst day you’ve had in a really long time.

It wasn’t like you weren’t good at your job, but it was just one of those days where you felt like you couldn’t do anything right. No matter how hard you tried, everything seemed to fall apart. Not to mention your boss and his aggressive lecture about your performance, that alone, even on a good day, would have been enough to work you up. Pulling the blanket up over your head, you cry out all the feelings that you had been pushing down until you finally got home.  

Suddenly you hear the instrumental tune of Nelly’s “It’s Getting Hot In Here” coming from your cell phone that you had haphazardly tossed on the bedside table next to you. There’s only one person that could be on the other end of the line, the same person who programmed the ringtone himself. Reluctantly you peek your head out of your cocoon and grab your phone.

“Hey, baby! Look, I just got done at the lab with Reid. How bout I pick you up in fifteen minutes and take your cute butt out tonight?” Johnny says, sounding as energetic and happy as ever, something you usually adored about your boyfriend, but right now was making your head hurt.

“Johnny…” You manage to choke out but the rest of the words failing you.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny interjects quickly, his voice now laced with concern.

Sniffling, you try to pull yourself together enough to answer him. “Jus’ had a really bad day.”

Johnny’s heart aches at his girl’s voice sounding so broken. “I’m coming over.”

“Oh Johnny, no, you don’t have to.” You try to stop him, beginning to feel guilty. As much as you want to see him, you don’t want to bring him down with you.

“15 minutes, and I’m there.” He says, ignoring your comment and hanging up the phone.

You don’t even bother moving out of bed since Johnny has a key to your apartment. Just a month ago, you both had given the other the keys to your apartments. It was a big step for you both, but especially for Johnny. He had never been in such a serious relationship; after all, the human torch was previously named playboy of the year… three years in a row. But all that changed when he met you. Of course, he’s still Johnny, sarcastic and charming but the overly flirtatious and irresponsible parts of his old personality were to no use of him now. Not when he’s found someone he cares for more than he ever thought possible.  

You hear the keys jingling and the front door opening as Johnny enters your apartment. “It’s me!” He calls you, but you don’t bother answering. “Babe?” He calls out again as he slips his shoes off at the door and makes his way to your bedroom.

“Hi.” You mutter out when his slim body appears in the door frame.

“Hey...” He says with a soft smile before coming over to sit on the edge of the bed closest to you. He starts soothingly rubbing his hand up and down your leg as he speaks up. “What happened, baby?”

You can’t seem to get yourself to look at him, almost embarrassed of your emotions. “Work stuff, I just-...” You stop taking a deep but shaky breath. “... couldn’t do anything right today.”  

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” Johnny coos moving his hand from your leg to cup your face. He makes you look at him finally, and you wish you would have before because somehow, just his eyes on yours makes your heart feel a little lighter. And even with his eyebrows pinched up in worry and lips in a slight frown, he looks as handsome as ever. “We all have bad days baby, don’t be so hard on yourself. Not on my perfect girl.”

Your eyes well up again, but only this time it is for Johnny’s sweet words. “You’re too good to me, Johnny; I’m sorry I ruined the fun night you wanted to have.” You know Johnny loves you and would do anything for you. But, in times like these, where your emotions are already running high, thoughts of insecurity shuffle their way back into your mind. You imagine what he’d be doing right now if it were for you; he’d probably already be at some extreme sporting thing or even a bar, being the life of the party. But instead, here he is with you, sitting in the dark of your bedroom, trying to console you.

“Hey, where’s all this that coming from, baby? First, you talk shit about my girlfriend, and now you say I’m too good for her?” He says, not being able to hide his teasing grin. “I’ll let you know, I happen to lot her and that she’s the one that’s too good for me. Putting up with all my crazy shit, especially in the beginning, wow, was I a piece of work or what?” Through the tears, you can’t help yourself to start smiling too. “She’s a saint, I swear. But nonetheless, I would gladly choose to be with her anywhere than somewhere without her any day.”  

“You know your job was supposed to be to help me stop crying, right?” You manage a chuckle, the heavyweight of sadness starting to lift off of you little by little.

Johnny chuckles before reaching his hands out for you to take so that you can pull yourself to sit up. “Well, what can I say? I’m not a therapist for a reason.” He says before kissing you softly.

You kiss him back with a small smile. “Well, that’s fine by me. I love you just the way you are.” You assure him, using your hand to run through his short hair.

“I love you too, baby.” He says before kissing you again. “How does take out and movies on the couch sound?”

“Perfect.”

Taglist: @brattycherub​ // @cloudystevie // @doozywoozy // @patzammit // @selfcarecap // @steebsbabygirl​ // @worksby-d​

If you would like to be a part of my taglist for future writing, let me know! (If you would like to be tagged for only certain characters and/or only specific types of writing (like only fluff or only smut), I can do that too!)

[lemonandtheart]

@gxmonth Day 18 - This Wasn't In The Rule Book!! vampire au vampire aU VAMPIRE AU~~!! I have always been such a sucker for monsters and magic lol. I wrote a little fanfic drabble a hot minute ago that I'll include under the cut!

There were rumors running rampant all through Domino. Breathless whispers through the crowds of its residents. They spread fear like the plague, but who could blame them? With all of the people who’d gone missing never to be seen again it was only natural such a fear would grow until it had reached an unprecedented proportion. Whether it was truth or not didn’t matter because to the people of Domino there was no doubt. A vampire was on the loose through the city streets after nightfall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Jesse Andersen hoped the rumors true. He’d come a long way to hunt down this supposed dirty bloodsucker. His friend, Jim, had offered to come along on the journey too but Jesse had declined. They didn’t truly know if there was a vampire in Domino City. He’d certainly find out after dark. Since the people of Domino had been keeping holed up inside at night the past few months, he was sure the parasite had to be starved by now.

A chill settled in the night air once the sun fully disappeared over the horizon. Jesse pulled his thick, black jacket tighter to his chest. It would be a long night. He was glad he’s had the foresight of buying himself a hot coffee before the shops closed. It warmed him from the inside out as he perused the streets. Hopefully one of two things would occur: either there was no vampire and he’d be on his merry way after a quick report back to the Vampire Hunter’s Association or there was a parasitic lowlife lurking among the shadows that he would eliminate well before the sun would rise again. Either way Jesse felt that he’d be headed home within the next few days.

He paused underneath of a spotlight near a fountain. It wasn’t running and with the high-rise buildings surrounding he felt even the nearly silent sound of his pulse was amplified. It was quiet—eerily so. Not a thing in the whole city seemed to make any noise and the stillness of it was deafening. A soft, distant tapping of heels against pavement was a deliberate break in the silence. Jesse set his hand on the small stake launcher secured to his belt. The sound echoed and made it seem to come from everywhere at once. He slowly backed up to the fountain, craning his neck around to try and find the direction of the noise. Any direction would do. What he wasn’t expecting was the freezing hands on his shoulders matched with a silken, sultry voice from directly behind him. “Well, what’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

Jesse jolted from the grasp and yanked the weapon from its holster, aiming it squarely at the chest of the man, no, monster he was looking for. He had messy, untamable, two-toned brown hair and a set of gleaming golden eyes staring hungrily at him. He wore a low-cut V-neck shirt that nearly slit down to his stomach, the two sides of the fabric held together by thin string tied crossways. The sleeves, he noticed, were ruffled when he moved his hands up to the sides of his head — palms facing forward in a show of submission. His pants buttoned and sat snugly on his thin hips before disappearing beneath his high-heeled boots at the knee. The heels dug into the stone of the fountain he stood upon; the streetlights the ideal backdrop for his cape he wore over the ensemble. It fastened just above his clavicle with a jeweled button. Jesse sneered in disgust at the creature, but more so at the choice of apparel. It was far too extra, making him look more like a movie villain than a bloodthirsty creature of night. “Hasn’t anyone warned you it’s dangerous to be out so late at night?” The vampire questioned.

“I could ask the same to you, vampire.” Jesse responded, gesturing to the launcher aimed still at his chest. The vampire chuckled.

“Perhaps, but I own these streets. The name’s Jaden by the way. Jaden Yuki. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting this lovely evening?”

“Jesse Andersen. Sorry to say, but these streets were never yours.” Jaden kept his hands raised but stepped down from his position atop the fountain’s rim. Jesse began backing up, his eyes and shot never leaving the vampire as he strutted towards him.

“Is that so?” He drawled, continuing his slow approach. Jesse’s fingers twitched on the trigger, the small movement pushing Jaden to respond. He kicked high, knocking the weapon out of Jesse’s hands and into the sky. It came crashing back to the Earth and hit the rock of the fountain with a horrendous crack, bouncing into the water in a jagged movement. Jesse’s eyes widened at the horror of being disarmed. He hadn’t expected to find an adversary of any remarkable skill on the streets of Domino. Now, only panic and fear pooled in his stomach as he kept his eyes locked on Jaden’s. “Care to tell me what brings you here, Jesse?”

“You.”

“Me?” Jaden asked, cocking his head to the side in an innocent way.

“Obviously! You’re the one who’s been kidnapping people for the past few months!” Jesse’s words only seemed to confuse Jaden more. He furrowed his brow hard.

“Wait, wait. Hold on a minute. First of all, I haven’t kidnapped anyone ever! I haven’t even been out from the lair in a year or so! I’ve been—”

“I thought you owned these streets?” Jesse sassed.

“Well, ehe, I thought it’d sound cool. Didn’t it?” Jaden admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“That doesn’t matter!” Jesse exclaimed, shaking Jaden’s shoulders. Jaden pouted.

“Fine, fine. Anyways, I’m not the one you’re after.”

“Great! Now I’m stuck in the heart of Domino with two vampires wandering the streets with no weapon.” He whined, coming to sit at the fountain. Jaden shrugged casually.

“There are plenty more vampires than that here, but okay.” An idea struck Jesse, fast and hard and stupid. So stupid, in fact, it just might work.

“You!” He exclaimed suddenly, rushing Jaden and squeezing his shoulders roughly. Jaden blinked slowly at him.

“Me?”

“Yes! You’ve got to know all the vampires around here!”

“So?”

“So, you must know the one responsible! You can help me!” Jaden’s eyes narrowed, intrigue taking over.

“Oh? And what’s in it for me?” He purred. Jesse gulped but didn’t let the fear register. He knew it’d make his job so much easier to play the enemy. If he could get Jaden to work with him, he could eliminate not only the immediate threat but Jaden as well. Killing two vampires with one stake. All he had to do was play his cards right.

“Would…some of my blood be fine enough payment?” He asked, playing as though he was embarrassed by such an idea. He’d noticed many vampires he’d dealt with in the past responded well if he pretended like he was new, nervous, and never before bitten. It was like the idea of being the first to drink from a human was a special treat that was rarely given. He’d been bitten plenty by vampires and honestly it wasn’t that bad. It only would become a problem should he take his lifeblood—the true way to turn a human into a vampire. Jaden pursed his lips as Jesse lowered the collar of his jacket, offering payment upfront for his cooperation. He closed in on Jesse, gripping his biceps and wetly licking a stripe up Jesse’s neck to his ear. Jesse hated the way his body shuddered at the feeling, both of the lick and Jaden’s hot breath now in his ear. Though, he was also grateful for it. It helped to sell the unspoken act of it being his first time. He bit his own lip, mentally preparing himself for Jaden’s fangs. It was always the initial jab that was the worst part. A short, single noise of amusement left Jaden’s mouth before his answer rang numbly in his ear.

“No.” Jesse felt his eyes widen when Jaden pulled back to look Jesse in the face, a casual smirk present on his lips. He had never once in all of his time dealing with vampires ever had one turn down a willing, easy meal. It was astounding and almost admirable. Jaden was on an entirely new level of vampire he’d never seen before. He could feel his cheeks flush with real embarrassment of being turned down so casually. What, was his blood not good enough? “I came up for a reason tonight, Jesse. Would you like to know it?” Words failed, so he simply nodded. Jaden closed the short distance between them and slotted his chin in the juncture of Jesse’s neck, lips less than an inch away from Jesse’s ear. He whispered like he was revealing a grand secret. “You see, I’ve very recently come of age. It’s time to build a court of my own, but to do that I have to prove myself. Know how?” His answer was a shake of the head. He could feel Jaden’s smirk grow. “I have to turn a human into a vampire in front of everyone I know. A little ceremony if you will. I was hoping to find myself a willing participant to join my court. My first member. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

The color that’d been building in Jesse’s face drained. He was terrified in the, albeit gentle, grip of a vampire that wanted to turn him. It was a good thing in a way. At least Jaden didn’t have any desire to kill him, and that made him feel a bit better. Still, with all the vampires Jesse’d seen he’d never truly spoken to one longer than necessary. In one short description from Jaden, he felt like he’d learned more of the societal structure of vampires than he had in his relatively short career. Jaden pulled away from him, making eye contact with Jesse. He could feel the icy cold of Jaden’s fingers on the skin of his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Jesse shook his head, hoping to tune back in. “What?” He asked. Jaden shook his head softly, tsking.

“I said that if you wanted to, we could have a little fun. Make a game of it. Only if you’re a willing participant of course. I’d hate to coerce you into a life you’re uncomfortable with.”

“A game of what?”

“Rewards! If you win, I’ll help you track the vampire behind the disappearances and as an added bonus I’ll leave Domino. But if I win, you’ll stay and become my first court member. We can still track the vampire down, that’s a given. Either way you’ll still benefit in one fashion or another.”

“And what game will we be playing?”

“How’s hide and go seek? I know it’s a bit unfair since I know the city better than you, so we can keep tally at the fountain. Say, five minutes to hide and ten to seek? We’ll play ‘till dawn, so twelve rounds. No rooftops, no going into buildings, no turning into bats. Sound fair?” Jaden extended his hand to Jesse. His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it, but it was true. Jaden was the best bet of actually locating the vampire he was looking for, and even if he lost Jaden didn’t seem like that bad of a guy. He was inclined to take Jaden’s hand, so he did. A searing pain ran up his arm and radiated through his body. “The oath is bound. I’ll seek first.” He turned his back to Jesse, covering his eyes with his hands. “One…Two…Three…”

Jesse ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The people of Domino were depending on him to end their blight. He had to win. He felt a sort of obligation to rid the world of these vermin. Yet, there was something about Jaden Yuki that’d drawn him in way too far for a first encounter. His initial presence had felt intimidating, domineering, and had in an instant become soft and genuine. It felt so wrong to see any good in one of those filthy creatures of the night, but Jesse couldn’t help it. He could sense the overwhelming good nature of Jaden and it made him feel inclined to believe that this would be a fair game.

That was five minutes. Jesse tucked himself tight into an alleyway. He slowed his breathing, trying hard not to give himself away. The click of Jaden’s heels against the concrete filled every crevasse and made it impossible to know how close or far Jaden really was. The gentle glow of the moon and the harsh lights of the city around were the only means Jesse had of sight. He wished desperately for the warmth of the sun. This alley felt like static on his skin. The clicking finally stopped. He held his breath, shifting slightly back behind the boxes he was obscured by. “Found you!” Jaden smirked. He’d moved so fast he’d nearly materialized out of thin air. “Alright! One to nothin’! Better catch-up Jess, unless you secretly do want to be a vampire!” He stuck out his tongue past his sharp teeth before taking off down the alley. Jesse couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. This was actually kind of fun. Jaden, as dangerous as he had the potential to be, actually was making this unfortunate situation fun.

He found Jaden easily, far too easily. He’d been out in the open, almost waiting for him. With each passing round Jaden found him with unfathomable ease and Jesse him with increasing difficulty. It all came down to the final round – Jaden’s six to Jesse’s five. It was Jesse’s turn to seek. “Good luck, Jess. I can’t wait to see how good you’ll look on the ceremonial altar for me!” He winked suggestively and, in a flash, he was gone. Jesse closed his eyes and willed the color from his face. He was a grown ass man. He could deal with comments like that! He could! He began his count.

There was breeze now that brushed and caressed his skin with an all-new chill. It made him feel uncertain. Could he really find Jaden? He had been getting harder and harder to find. If he failed to find him, he’d still finish the job he’d come to the city to do. The only difference was that he wouldn’t be leaving. His heart fluttered in his chest. It was making him feel fuzzy to think about. He didn’t hate the idea; he hadn’t hated the idea from the start actually. If he had, he wouldn’t’ve agreed to play. Hell, he didn’t even hate vampires down to his core like most of his friends did. He’d mostly joined to thanks to Jim’s glowing reference and the promise of traveling about. You had to dehumanize vampires to bring yourself to kill them. He’d gotten good at it and he loved to be good at something. He didn’t think now though that even if a good opportunity showed itself that he could go through killing Jaden. He’d done an excellent job at humanizing himself from the start to Jesse.

His counted ended and the final chase began. He only had until the sun rose now. Domino was huge and for once that evening, he actually felt defeated. Still, he pressed onwards and kept his search going. Every alley, every street, behind every garbage can and every car. It was like Jaden had disappeared entirely until finally he reached the first place he’d hidden. “Jaden! I know you’re there!” Jesse bluffed. He heard a chuckle come from behind him and flipped around. Jaden was so close, leaning in towards him.

“So close and yet so far.” Jaden said, gesturing over his shoulder. The sun had already begun to slink over the horizon. He felt Jaden’s thin but strong arms wrap around him and a swirling vortex of black consumed them.

[mintytrifecta]

Blood and Whiskey

Summary: washed up actor and a time-warping talk show host who likes disco walk into a bar

Aka: I was getting tired of writing one setting and the same people for forever and wrote this drabble as a break

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

If you were to ask the actor standing in front of you why he did what he did, there’s seldom doubt he’d be able to clearly tell you.

A grand finale.

A final show.

A shake of his fist at the cruel fate life handed him.

Just like him, all it became was an extravagant joke.

Actor growls, shoving away the echoing feeling of shadows with eyes burning into his back, grabbing and ripping him apart, pulling him back together vertebrae by vertebrae until he danced to a vengeful tune once more.

The entity, to put it lightly, has not made it easy to escape it’s grasp. A fool, he was, to think he could use its power to his own whim and not face the consequences.

Even so, with a new body and purpose he can see it lurking in the shadows.

Even now, as he trudged through a dimly lit street in the dead of winter he can hear it ringing in his ears.

After all, it takes time to escape from memories.

God he needs a drink…

Actor stops in his tracks and looks to his side. Blaring music vibrates in his ribs, shaking and stirring his insides.

It’s a bar.

A very neon, very bright bar.

A perfect place to sulk, He thinks to himself.

Tightening his grip around the pockets of his red velvet jacket, Actor takes a breath.

And walks in.

The music is even louder on the inside than from the outside. For some unknown reason, that fact surprises him.

All around the hall people can be seen dancing in a frenzied craze. Lights flashing in a showcase of every conceivable color available to the blind eye. Under the lights, a live band was playing some indistinguishable disco with a fervor and passion Actor wishes he still possessed. He scoffs and sharply inhales through his nose.

The air reeks with the familiar stench of alcohol and mania.

Actor squints his eyes and burrows his face deeper into the black scarf tied around his neck and shuffles his way to the leather bar stool. Slamming his hand on the wooden surface of the table to get the bartender's attention.

With a sigh, they dreadfully approach.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

Actor mumbled deeply, head miserably laying on polished oak. "Red wine. Any year, I don't care."

The bartender curtly nods and leaves to get the drink. Actor's in no hurry tonight, why should he care if it's taking forever? 

"Here you go, sir. Red wine, 1926."

Ah, prohibition wine. Nothing quite like tasting secret rebellion acid slipping down your throat, whispering sweet illegality and chaos in the wake of conformity.

Actor downs the wine in one gulp and haphazardly slams the cup onto the table. Beside him, a man chuckles.

"You sure needed that one, huh friend?"

Turning to face the voice, Actor attempted to hide his widening eyes in reaction to the speaker’s appearance.

A man in a silky pink long-sleeve shirt tucked into… the ugliest shade of yellow Actor had ever seen paired with white shoes, stained and worn from long nights out dancing, no doubt.

The top of his head layed home to the biggest and most extravagant pink afro Actor had ever seen in his life.

And on his face… an eerily familiar, upturned, almost pink-like at the edges mustache.

What a strange-looking person, Actor thought.

“Yeah… hey, aren’t you one of the stage performers?” He questions offhandedly. Actor was sure he’d seen him perform when coming in.

“Oh, not for tonight. Maybe tomorrow’s yesterday though…”

Actor stares at the man, trying to piece together his offputting comment.

“You… what?”

The man grins at him, swishing in his hand a martini that definitely wasn’t there before.

“What did you say, friend?”

“Your-your comment on when you’re going to perform. What did you say?”

He gazes at Actor, brows furrowed in concentration before his eyes glaze over. He sits still on his creaking barstool, focusing on nothing and everything before jumping in his seat and grinning at Actor.

“Bah, who can remember things like that? I know I can’t. Anyways, I don’t think I caught your name, fellow. Or maybe I forgot that too, it’s entirely possible.”

Actor blinks with incredulity. His words caught in his throat, unable to pass.

“My name is… irrelevant.” He finally decides on saying.

“Irrelevant, hm? Sounds french! Have you ever been there? I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.”

Actor raises his hand to get the bartender’s attention and signals another round. It’s going to be a long night.

“Firstly, it’s winter. Second of all I didn’t even get your name, how am I supposed to talk to you without it.”

The man sits gasps for air, dramatically arching his back in shock before responding with a curt bow in his chair.

“Oh my apologies, Irrelevant, it must have slipped my mind! Name’s Wilford Warfstache!”

“Wilford Warfstache?” Actor echoes.

“That’s what I said!”

Actor snorts, picking up his second glass of wine, inspecting it as if passing final judgement.

“Well, Mr. Warfstache, what exactly do you want with me? Out of all the seats in the bar why’d you sit next to this one, huh?”

Wilford smiles and pats him heartily on the back. “My friend, you looked so lonely sitting at the bar with nobody else around you! I-I figured you could use some good company!”

Actor rolls his eyes. “How thoughtful…”

Wilford nods brightly, looking the Actor up and down with a slight hitch in his breath.

“Say… do I know you from somewhere?”

Actor winces, tirelessly holding on to a shred of hope that tells him he hasn’t faded into obscurity.

“I’m an actor. There’s a good chance you’ve seen me on the silver screen.”

With this revelation, Wilford’s face lights up in wonder.

“An actor! That’s fantastic! What movies have you done, my friend? Was there love? Was there murder? Was there treacherous betrayal at the hands of an ally?” He questions, voice getting louder and louder with each passing query.

“You could say that… It’s been a while since I landed a good role, however.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to stay like that! I’m sure you can find something big to be in soon!” Wilford cheers passionately.

“Yeah right… the last time I did some big movie was… god I don’t even know how long it’s been since then.”

Wilford pats Actor pitifully on the back, softening his voice to the best of his ability.

“Well, whatever role you played I’m sure it was wonderful!”

Actor took a sip of his wine. “I played a detective.”

“A detective! That’s a wonderful role to act! Why, I happen to have a friend who’s a detective and he’s one of the best people you’ll ever meet, trust you me.”

Actor nods solemnly, eyes and throat caught in a crossfire of guilt and rage. “So did I. Met him on set as a professional consultant and stayed friends afterwards. At least until...” he trails off.

“Until what?” Wilford asks.

“I… did something. Something bad that I can’t take back. I got stuck with a shitty hand, tried to use it and it backfired and no matter what I try to do I can’t get new cards. It’s not fair!” Actor growls.

Wilford hums, circling the edges of the martini glass with the paper umbrella. “Such is life, my friend. You can’t always make sense of it’s chaos, hell knows I don’t.”

Rolling his eyes, Actor spits with venom. “Oh, please. What bad thing could you have possibly done?”

“Everyone has some blood on their hands, my friend. There’s no need to dig for specifics.”

“And yet, here we are. Hell, the only good outcome from anything I did slipped out of my fingers and forever from my grasp.”

Wilford held out a finger, motioning for Actor to shut it.

“Never say never, my good man! If I know anything, it’s that things always come back to you. If they don’t you keep looking for them!”

“How inspirational.” Actor deadpans.

“It’s true! I say you should keep looking for the positive, even if it’s hard!”

"I don't know…"

Wilford tuts sotfly. "Come on now, don't you trust ol' Warfy?"

"Not really, no."

He shockingly gasps, bringing a shaking hand to his chest and spilling his martini on the floor. "W-well whyever not? I give pretty good advice, why not trust me?"

"I met you tonight."

"But it feels so much longer than that, doesn't it?" Wilford sighs, leaning his head on Actor's sunken shoulders.

He shakes the afro-d man off and takes a swing of his wine. 

"Whatever you say, Will."

The two sit in silence, taking in the music echoing in the hall with comfort.

"You know, I did get an offer for this television series a while ago."

"Did you, now?"

"It was for some kind of choose-your-own-adventure thing. It seemed silly at the time and I didn't say anything yet but maybe I'll give it a shot." He mumbles.

"Wonderful idea, my friend! That seems marvelous to work on."

Actor sluggishly smiles. "You think?"

Nodding brightly, Wilford responds. "I do! And if it's any consolation, my friend," he pauses and shuffles through his afro, pulling out a small, pink flower. "I think you'd make a wonderful hero."

Actor lightly picks the flower from his hand, petting the rosy petal. It's soft and delicate, smooth under his touch. 

"Whatever you choose to do, you'll be great at. I'm sure of it."

He gazes at his newfound friend, eyes shining with reinvigorated  light for the first time in years.

"Thank you, Will."

"Anytime, good man! Anytime." 

Actor stands up and brushes his jacket, smiling at Will. "I think it's time I left. I've got a friend to pay a visit to."

"Good luck! And remember you always have a friend here!" Wilford raises his full martini glass high into the air.

"You got it, Will." 

And with that, Actor left. Perhaps it's time to resume his search for a certain Mayor.

Back at the bar, Wilford chuckles into his glass.

"What a strangely familiar person…"

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets Drabbles

The one where Beth finds the diss track

Yes, I know. This has been pending on my m.list for a while now. However, I wanted to wish @dreamcatcherjiah (as well as all my followers) a very merry Christmas and happy holidays! I know some of you really wanted to see/requested what went down with the diss track (a kind of inside joke between Joon and Beth) so here we are. Thank you to everyone who has supported me and given my works a fighting chance lol. 

7 Secrets is my baby and I just have such a soft spot for Beth and Joon. 🥺🥺 If you haven’t read it yet...just do it. Read it. It’s a good time, I promise.

Merry Christmas!! Enjoy! ⇊

In my defense, I wasn’t planning on snooping around Joon’s workspace. It just kind of happened. 

We were supposed to meet up at the company building to head out to dinner with everyone. Today is a big day: it marks six months since the day we met. 

Six months since I first stepped into that little room just a couple of floors above where I now sit. My heart nearly beating out of my chest and Namjoon standing on the other side of the room. 

My entire future, right in front of me. 

The boys have been busy the past couple of months, I’ve hardly gotten to see any of them due to their new album coming out soon. Promotions are brutal; I’ve begun to see that. Every so often Namjoon will show up at my office completely out of the blue, give me a short greeting, and promptly take a nap on my couch. He says it’s one of the only places he can actually close his eyes without worrying about someone coming to the door and seeing how the album is coming along.

Even though I wish we had more time to just be together, I think those spare minutes with Namjoon snoring up a storm while I work quietly at my desk are my favorite minutes of the week. 

Namjoon’s studio is empty when I arrive, oddly enough. I’m sure he’ll be up in a few minutes; chances are he’s in a meeting with the project manager or in somebody else’s studio. 

“What do we have here?” I wonder aloud as I plop down on his swivel chair, scooting forward to look at the post-it notes scattered all around his desk. Most of them make little to no sense to me, as they all consist of producer slang and half-formed thoughts. 

There’s one though that really catches my attention. “Oooh what song is this?” Scrawled down on a bright yellow sticky note, Namjoon has written out, ‘decide whether or not to include first breath in the album’. 

See, I would’ve been more than happy to just wonder what song he was talking about and maybe ask him about it later, but is it really my fault if he kept his laptop open and signed in? 

It’s all too easy to click on his files and scroll through them until I see what song he’s talking about. 

If I really think hard about it, maybe this is my way of helping him with work. If I like the song, then I’ll just tell him to add it to the album. There! One sticky note down, five thousand to go!

I can’t find any headphones, so I just make sure the volume is low before double clicking on the file. 

Hoseok’s voice comes first, quickly followed by Yoongi’s. One after another the rap line begins to tell a story. 

It doesn’t take long for me to realize that this is a true story. 

By the time the chorus rolls around, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, clinging to the arm rest as though it’s the only thing keeping me in reality. Suddenly the question of whether or not he should include this in the album makes sense; it’s clear that this is a very personal song. It’s about us. 

About me, I realize as Namjoon’s voice flows out. There’s a bit of disdain in his voice as he raps I had to hold my breath for seven years just to make everyone happy and that’s when I put two and two together. 

This is the diss track. The diss track that’s not really a diss track but in a way is a diss track because we were kept apart for so long. 

Yoongi is drawling out the final few notes when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. 

“Having fun?”

I slam my knee up into the underside of Namjoon’s desk, crying out as I rub it. Namjoon comes over to my side, crouching beside me and cutting the music before putting his hands over my sore knee. 

“Why did you have to scare me so bad?” I whine, hissing as Namjoon’s hands ghost over my knee. He grins at me, not looking at all apologetic. 

“Since when did you start sneaking into my studio and listening to my music?” Namjoon’s voice is light, but I can see that he’s panicking a bit. 

Rightly so. 

“That was the diss track!” I practically shout, pointing at the screen. “I can’t believe you’ve never let me listen to it!”

Namjoon shakes his head, looking a little off as he pulls me to my feet. “It’s...you ready to eat?”

He dodges all of my other questions as we head out into the black SUV. I glare at him from where I sit beside him, only wanting an answer to my question. 

Namjoon looks exhausted. More exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. He struggles to keep his eyes in one place as he stares out the window, his knee bobbing up and down. 

His legs instantly settle as I place my hand atop his knee. “Did you really not want me to listen to it?”

Namjoon exhales a long sigh, finally turning to look at me. “I...isn’t it a bit overwhelming? I mean, that’s what the guys said when we recorded it. It’s all a bit too much, don’t you think?”

I furrow my brows, shaking my head. Of all the things that these boys have done, this is the project that seems over the top? “Of course not. Why do you think that?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Namjoon takes my hand in his and begins to study it like it’s some sort of newly discovered species. “I mean, the entire song is about how I felt like I never even breathed before I met you. It’s basically me confessing my undying devotion. Don’t you think that’s a little hardcore? Maybe too hardcore to put in the album?”

He has a point. It’s only about five months since we went public. Suddenly dropping a song that’s dedicated to his soulmate and not to his fans would probably hurt more than inspire. 

“Can I tell you what I think?”

Namjoon’s eyes are bright as he nods at me. “Always.”

“I think you’re both right and wrong.” Namjoon looks confused but he doesn’t interrupt. “It’s intense, sure. Hardcore? Maybe. But it’s how you feel. And that’s all that really matters. I, for one, think it’s pretty great. It’s nice to know that you feel like that.”

“So you think I should put it into the album?”

I shrug. “If you want to, I guess. It’s up to you. I see where you’re hesitating; some people might not take to it. Especially since it hasn't been that long since everything happened. But I do think that there are probably some people out in the world that would like it.”

Namjoon nods, taking on a serious expression as he looks back out the window. It’s quiet for the rest of the ride; something that I’ve grown accustomed to with Namjoon. It’s only as we’re arriving at the small restaurant that everyone has gathered at that he turns back to me. I wait for him to speak, playing with the ring on his finger as he gathers his thoughts. 

He sighs heavily, his breath making my hair fly and making me smile. He smiles back, albeit a little uncertainly. 

“Can’t we be selfish?”

I stare up at him. That’s not what I expected. “What...what do you mean?”

Namjoon rolls his shoulders. “I love the song. And I’m so happy that you love it, too. And while I think that there might be a few people in the world that might love it as well, I just...I want to be selfish for once.”

He quiet for a moment as he prepares to say the rest of his speech. Turning to face him completely, I see the bodyguards outside the back entrance of the restaurant. The others must already be here. 

“You...you’re everything to me.” Namjoon fights to keep a light tone, but I can see right through him. “And I already share so much with the rest of the world. I even have to share you, in a way. We have to be so open and transparent about everything, which I get it. It’s good. I don’t mind most of the time. But just this once, I want to be selfish. This one time, I don’t want to share.”

I slide over closer to him, smiling softly as his arms automatically encircle me. “So you don’t want to include the song in the album?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No. I don’t. I want it to be our song. Just ours. For your eyes and ears only.”

Reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead I can’t help but laugh a little. My soulmate stares down at me, trying to figure out what’s made me laugh this time. 

“What’s so funny about that?”

I shake my head. “No, I get it. That’s...perfect. Really. I would love nothing more than to be selfish with you.”

“Then...?”

Leaning up to brush a kiss against his cheek, I marvel at the way his cheeks still go a little red even after all these months. “I just can’t believe that you dedicated an entire diss track to me. I’m flattered.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, groaning as he leans over to open the car door. “You’re the worst.”

I laugh, following after him and instantly feeling better as I see that he doesn’t look quite so weighed down anymore. “No way! You can’t say that after you just dedicated a song to me! What was it that you say in it again? My first breath after swimming or something?”

Namjoon whirls around, feigning offense as he loops his arms around my shoulders. “It’s you’re my first breath after drowning under their expectations you little punk. Get it right.”

“Oooh, that’s right.” We push the door open and follow the sound of familiar voices. “Well, since you wrote a song about me...”

Namjoon pauses, pulling on my arm as I try to go on without him. “What? You can’t just say things like that and not finish them!”

I cackle at his exasperated expression. “I can’t really say much yet, but I’ll say this. Stay tuned for a new Webtoon about a pair of star-crossed soulmates.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen, a bit of boyish excitement peeking through. “Wait...really?” I nod. “That’s amazing! It’s about us, isn’t it? When is it coming out? Did you already pitch the idea? What are their-”

I cut him off, laughing as I back away from him. “Nope. That’s all the information you’re going to get, Joon.”

“What?! Why?”

Everyone goes quiet as we near the room, and I swear I can hear Taehyung mumbling something about how we’re here and as loud as always. 

Holding up six fingers in front of my soulmate’s face, I glare at him. “Six months, Kim Namjoon. You made me wait six months before I found the song. And you didn’t even show me! Consider this my revenge.”

Striding off and leaving him in the dust, I barely catch what he mumbles under his breath, but I’m pretty sure I hear something along the lines of met my match and insufferable. 

Winking at him over my shoulder, I can’t help but agree. 

I’ve definitely met my match. 

taglist: @mae-musicbitch @heartblackerthancoffee​ @agustneeds​ @eusticenatalie​ @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah​

[thewritingstar]

Beautiful Revelations

Pairing: Gruvia (I know its been a hot ass min)

Fandom: Fairy Tail 

tags: @shellielyzabeth @be-dazzled @nostalgicxslumber @unvalley @tigerfire54

Note: It has happened. I have written 200 fanfics and idk if I should be proud or slightly scared. (feel free to skip this omg why is it so long) 

I want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged or interacted with me in any way. I have always had a feeling that no matter what I write, I wouldn’t matter. But every comment and sweet note left made me realize that even if its just a smile or enough to make someone hit the like button, I made a small difference or added something to the fandom. Most of my fics are quick drabbles full of spelling mistakes, random thoughts and love for the characters. I know I don’t write very long stories or finish my wips (why are we surprised) but even though Im not someone people look to as a big author, each of you have made me feel special. There have been many times, this year especially that I had decided to give up writing. “Im not good enough and no one will even notice” Thats what I told myself if I decided to just back away. But every so often I would look and see that someone new or old had read my work. Every time someone reads something I wrote, I go back and read it too. I look at all the tags and see every comment and I stop and smile and remember how much joy it brought me when I first posted. 

When I first started writing, I thought that I wouldn’t have a place. Yet in a very short span of time, I was welcomed with open arms and people started to tune in regularly for my fics. I had been given many nicknames such as Gruvia goddess, angst queen, satan (yes I know the fic0 and well even Star. 

During my darkest moments, my mind lingered to my writing and to my internet friends. without hesitation I could message someone and feel better and be given the reassure I need. I can't even begin to say how much it means to me that people actually enjoy my writing and even me as a person. 

I thank each of you for giving me a joy that was considered a luxury at one point and allowing me to write whatever I wanted and you took it with love and made me happier than I have been in years. To all the people who made art or wrote me something, it means so much to me. 

Im not saying that this fic is my greatest but I think it has a special place because It shows the growth over time. 200 fics is a lot and whether or not they were all good, it doesn't matter because I did that and I can say that im proud. Im sorry for all that sappy shit but I wouldn't be where I am without you all. 

-Star <3 

ps: im not dying or stop writing fics im just happy lol 

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  “There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a               heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

---

It was the nights like these that she hated most. The cold would creep through the blankets and make her shiver as her eyelids hung heavy. She could be ready to rest, let the sweet dreams guide her but instead those dark intrusive thoughts toyed with her like a fly on a freshly woven web. They would sprout out of nowhere, tangled with thorns and hold her mind hostage as it injected its sickly venomized thoughts for the night.

She always wondered how she got this far. She was one of the highest members of Phantom Lord, her abilities had rarely been matched. If she desperately craved, she could walk down the hallways and strike fear into the other members, no one could touch her. Hierarchies became a custom here. Once you made it to the top after clawing your way with blood, sweat and probably more blood, you were a god. Yet she walked in and in the next few minutes she was at the table with the master, already receiving a promise that she was special, a delicate and useful ally for the guild.

Special. What a swollen lie that turned out to be.

Maybe that's why she never bothered to search for a light, something to cure the rain. For every life she had bruised or ended, she wanted to feel the pain that followed. She needed to know the consequence of her actions, to be held accountable for ruining another family or taking something from the innocent. Instead she was celebrated.

The days turned to months and she found herself years later not knowing what anything meant anymore. Life used to be black and white. She would walk the side of the kind and good and now she was treading through a swarm of a morally gray compound.

These restless nights, she loathed them but then again, suffering was something that came naturally to her. The only person to ever knock her down was herself.

She climbed out of bed, fuzzy slippers over her feet as she walked to the bathroom. Her headache had worsened and she stared into the mirror. She had looked at herself a thousand times but… have her eyes always been that blue? No, she was tired and her vision was fuzzy, she was fine. Cold water came to her hands as she turned on the facet and splashed her face. Everything was the same as it always was. Expect for today.

Her order was simple. Defeat whoever stood in her way and make sure the Phantom Lord got Lucy Heratfilia. Why did they want some mage? She didn’t know but she was never one to second guess her orders. To go against what she was told was a waste of time, she would have been dead by the end of the day if she did. She had once believed that they accepted her with open arms, that Phantom Lord truly cared about her well being. It was a lie. A bitter sweet lie she allowed to remain in her head.

Hundreds of opponents had come before her. She was accustomed to the way of a battle and had harnessed her skill at a young age. The pure power of the rain pushed her further. She had an unlimited amount of power around her, unlike others, they would run out of fuel. She began to crave that god-like power. Allow the storm to rage on, all she had was herself and the droplets that followed. She understood she was an outcast. Love was never an option, not for someone who brought gloom everywhere.

But this afternoon, fate was a funny thing. She walked onto that rooftop, winning was the only thing on her mind, but he was there. A man who didn’t back down, a man who saw her as an equal.

Her heart began to race. It was forgien and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She had felt attraction before but this, this was different. Something as small as a single glance had already spun her mind into a muddled mess. It would have been better if she turned around, if he didn’t engage in the fight. Then maybe she wouldn’t be thinking of him like this.

Love at first sight. That wasn’t real. No one could possibly have that happen. What could drive someone's emotion so wild that they become attached to a person in such a short time? And yet it happened. He stood there waiting for the next move and she could only gaze at him with rose colored glasses.

An enemy. A traitor. That's what she would be if she dared to let him escape. She couldn’t hestatite, she never did and now she was frozen in her spot as ice magic danced around her. Peoples magic and abilities never intrigued her, but this, this was beyond anything she had seen.

The light reflecting off of the ice as her droplets froze before her eyes was breathtaking and she hardly noticed that she was losing the battle. She never thought rain could look, dare she say, beautiful? But in this state of its frozen glory, it was all she could think about. She envied those who never had to stay in the rain, a jealousy she didn’t want to admit had festered over the years and she gave up trying to despise the element. But before her was something much more than the state she was accustomed to. Ice. The solid purity of her own and she had wondered what it would be like to hold it in her hands.

She had water locked him, pulled out all of the stops and even with that, he stood again and again. He had screamed that the water was boiling, burning his skin but never before had the water gone above warm. It was usually ice cold on the tipping point of freezing but she could feel the warmth surrounding her.

It shocked her just the same. She had heard people talk about feeling the sun kiss their skin, the warmth spreading as they walked, this was the closest she had felt to that. This warm rush of water was beyond what she had known and yet even as it tinged her hands it felt good, it felt freeing, it felt right.

It burned in a way she had craved for so long. Something other than the fridgeness she had grown used too.

She stared at her reflection in her mirror, tears brimming her eyes. How could one person she just met bring her something she had never felt before? She shut the light out in the bathroom and walked back to her bed, passing her window, she stopped and turned.

Above in the sky was the moon. A soft white glow surrounded the orb that she had never seen before. It was breathtaking. A cosmic power the normal people of the world didn’t dare to worship now became a luxury. The sky was clear and she could see the stars, she could sense them all. How could she have lived her entire life never once seeing the moon and the sun? She had been cursed to live in the rain forever.

But he-he made it stop.

When he grabbed her arm, it was like time had stopped. As if everything she had ever known was washed away and all she could see was a bright light encasing him. She was content knowing her death was coming, there was hardly a reason for her to live. Perhaps she wasn't even living, just surviving day after gloomy day.

He pulled her to safety, her back against the roof as she panted heavily. Those clouds above her moved like a curtain for a show, parting just so that she could see the enchanting mystery she had always craved.  

She had never known a blue sky till then. The brightness was almost unbearable as she stared into a sky she had never known. So many emotions flooded her head but it was clear as those ice crystals that her heart was beating for him. She was his enemy, they made that clear from the start but he hadn’t hesitated to save her. He showed a mercy she had never come across.

Another tear fell as she sat on her bed.

“He saved Juvia.” She whispered to herself. A horrific thought came to her. Would she have saved him? She didn’t want to know the outcome because deep down she believed she was good. Beneath the surface of unremosle power, there was that scared little girl who never had anyone to care for her.

The amount of days she sat in that orphanage alone sewing her dolls and praying that the rain stopped one way or another, it was as if she couldn’t remember it. He had done the impossible. He showed her the sky she hadn’t seen. He had shown her kindness.

A thought came to mind as she stood and packed her things. No more would she be known as “the rain woman”. No more would gloom be her only trait. She was determined to find something much more appealing than those bowing by fear. She wanted love. She wanted that warmth of the water constantly and the feeling of the sun on her skin. She understood it now. There was a power strong than her, stronger than any wizard that surrounded the other guild.

She had vowed to be done with love. Promised herself that no man could hurt her again. She was trembling at the thought of being vulnerable once more. The only time she felt warmth was the scorching burn of a fiery rejection and words that burned like lava. It was too much for someone to handle. So she pushed it down, locked the key and threw it as far as she could. The temptation though. The idea of letting her guard down for someone, someone she barely knew? How she fantasized of that moment. She had once believed that someone of her past had done that, but they were all the same. Ashamed of the rain, the rain she caused, the pain she brought.

And after their fight when she collected herself and tried to run back towards her guild, he stopped her.

“For what it's worth I think you’re an incredible wizard. You may not want to believe that your guild is dark and bad but, Fairy Tail is always open.” He had said it with such sincerity that she wasn’t sure if it were true.

“Juvia thinks your magic is just as powerful.” She had said before he gave her a smile and turned away to go back to his other guild mates.

And here she stood, a suitcases packed in the night and a note left on the desk. This guild didn’t deserve any words. Not when they feasted on her ability. Harvested those negative emotions and almost made her fall into the deep end.

She knew what they would say. They would call her a coward. A traitor and a worthless wizard, at first it was enough to stop her. Make her stay and perhaps bring back the clouds. However what he said stuck in her mind.

“I would rather die fighting than let your guild have Lucy! She is one of us and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

Without hesitation he made it clear that every member of the guild was valued no matter how long they had been there, they were a family. If something like that would have happened, if she were threatened, her guild would let her die without a second thought.

Never again would she allow someone to have a hold over her. She spent too many years sheltered by pain and deviation to go on like that.

She grabbed her bag and closed her door.

--

Juvia stood in front of the door. The morning would be better to do this but it was beyond dark outside and she didn’t want her intrusive thoughts pulling her back to her old guild. Softly she knocked, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and force her back to the isolation of fear.

The open clicked open and her eyes widened slightly as a sleepy Gray leaned against the door frame, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.

“Juvia?” He blinked and watched as her cheek puffed out in red. He looked down to see that he was only in his underwear and let out a yelp as he grabbed a blanket off the chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Um Juvia thought.” She paused and looked towards the ground. “Actually Juvia apologies for disturbing you.” Her back was to him and she began to walk away.

“Wait!” His hand caught hers and he pulled slightly. A jolt of warmth spread through her, burning her like a thousand suns as well as the chill of ice from his own temperature. She looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Juvia, please just tell me.”

“Such kindness.” She whispered to herself. Her heart rate sped up just like it did earlier and she swallowed a breath. “Juvia was wondering…why did you save her?”

His hand dropped her as if he were shocked that she would dare question his action.

“I wasn’t going to let you die. Enemies or not, I don’t think you deserved that fate. I don’t believe that you are this evil person your guild made you out to be. To be honest when you fell, you look like you didn’t care what happened and I guess I saw myself in you.”

“You saved Juvia because you know what it's like?”

“To feel lost and hopeless I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Sometimes it's hard thinking you deserve to live, that it would be better to harbor all the pain of your past. I don’t know everything about you but that look in your eyes. I couldn’t let you go knowing that there was a brighter future ahead.”

A tear dripped from her eye. Her smile was soft as hugged her arms to her body. “You knew Juvia would join the guild.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was hoping that you would. If you still want to, that is.”

“Juvia would be honored.” She bowed respectfully towards him.

Gray smiled and bowed back. His eyes faced the sky looking towards the moon. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Tonight would be the first. Juvia thinks the stars are remarkable.”

“Lucy knows alot about them, I think you two would be good friends.”

Juvia shook her head as regret twisted in her stomach. “Juvia accepts your kindness and compassion but she doesn’t know if the rest will. Juvia was her rival, she understands if everyone doesn’t see her as a friend.” She frowned slightly.

A laugh came from the ice mage's mouth. “That's the thing about Fairy Tail, no matter where you come from or what your past may have held, there's always going to be a friend waiting.”

Juvia nodded. “Thank you Gray. Juvia will talk to your guild master tomorrow.”

“Like I said before. You’re an incredible wizard, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

She watched as he entered his house before turning around and walking towards her hotel. Her shoulders felt lighter and she held her head high for the first time. This was her step in the right direction, this was where her new life began.

Time had slowed and allowed her to pause. A beautiful revelation she never knew could exist came to mind as she just realized that she was in love.

---

She looked down at her leg in the mirror. The voices behind her had faded to the background as she became entranced with the mark of Fairy Tail.

“The blue suits you.” She turned to see Gray standing there with a smile as he was focused on her guild mark.

To say that she was grateful was an understatement. Her mask she wore like a crown had shattered. It unravels in his hands as the months went on and all that was left was the person she wanted to be. She could finally let go of her ghosts, her darkness and begin to forgive herself.  

---

“What do you think?” He asked her as the white sky fell with snow.

Gray had told her of a special spot he used to go to when the first snow came. Past the forest was a clearing of grassy hills that would soon become a winter wonderland. Laid out on one of the hills was a blanket and a few lanterns.

She held her hand out and felt the tiny snowflakes collect on her hand. He sat behind her, one arm snaked around her waist while the other hand rose above hers and created a small flurry of snowflakes.

“Breathtaking.” She gushed. This was the first time she had seen snow fall. Her eyes followed the ice magic as it formed a heart and blew into the sky joining the other flurries. She turned so she could meet his eyes and his normal content face was replaced with a smile.

He leaned forward until their noses touched briefly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He said and she only had a moment to process his words as his lips landed on hers and her eyes fluttered close.

Her hand went to his cheek as she leaned towards him, her energy matching his and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. She would be embarrassed to say that she might have dreamt of this moment a little too much but it didn’t matter now. All she knew was that her beloved felt the same.

---

For once she was happy to hear a cry. That little whimper bubbling from the baby's mouth, her baby, she was in disbelief. Perfection was a rarity. No one was perfect, but the being with a tuft of dark blue hair and grey eyes would beg to differ. A child was never in her future. The thought came up randomly but the idea of raising a family wasn’t even a question.

During her missions in her old guild, she would walk past a family. She would see happy faces on everyone and would only be filled with envy and hatred. Disgusting was what it was. How could you love someone else when there was no love for you?

But times change. She would see others holding their child's hand and feel a warmth in her heart at how the children beamed up at their parents. She could sense the love all around them and would smile herself, hoping that it might become a reality for herself.

She would wake in the middle of the night, not from her demons but for her new reason to live. He would babble and tug at the locks of her hair and giggle when water magic danced before his young eyes.

---

It was nights like these that loved the most. The soft rays of moonlight casting shadows through her window as silk sheets wrapped around her bare form. She used to spend nights alone, only her pillow to catch her tears and now delicate fingers trail her backside as she listens to the thumping of his heart. His chest rises and falls as her own follows the rhythm. Her eyes flutter close as her tiredness grows untils it's interrupted by a cool press of lips under her ear.

A peaceful sigh leaves her lips as she tilts her head up to meet dark eyes gazing at her. Flushed cheeks was something she wore often and she lifted off of him to move further up and meet his lips with hers. He pulls her back to him, hating the emptiness between them and adores the way she shivers when his thumb traces her guild mark.

Their love was honest and raw. She had learned that nights like those in the past would haunt him as well. They would keep him up and plague his thoughts with images of death and destruction. But now, they lingered in the shadows, always there but something brighter and beautiful guarded them to peace and she focused on the way he breathed her name then the tears that dropped.

There was an overwhelming amount of happiness that she had gathered after all the years she spent in Fairy Tail. She found friendship and family bonds. Love in all forms that she cherished deeply. Her powers were seen as a gift to help others and lend a hand, not twisted into medled lies that she had spent so long untangling.

Her lips pulled from his slowly and their breaths settled between them. When she looked at Gray she found something more. She had freedom and rebirth. Forgiveness and lust wrapped into something more than love. Their bond was stronger than she could have ever dreamed and when he left kisses over her skin she wanted nothing more in life than to stay frozen in this moment.

He did the impossible. He opened a door, shined a light through her darkness and allowed her to accept the fact that she did deserve to live. She could cherish moments and keep them as her own without the threat of corruption. Her life was now her own to command and she did it with such grace and beauty that Gray couldn’t imagine her being any different. 

“I love you.” He promised and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.

“I love you too.” She responded.

The beautiful truth was that she was finally at peace and loved herself. 

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I hope that you all enjoyed and thank you for being so lovely <3