#...stares at spotify shuffle

[deathfavor]

lyric starter call | @raytm ( kisaki as requested !) song: goodbye - skan

" If you go, I go with you. " Hanma looks down at Kisaki from where they're looking over the pier towards the ocean - an escape from that suffocating house. " That's how this works ~ ♡ "

[venomnyx]

THE FOOL CARD - Josh Washington x F!Reader AO3 // Spotify Playlist

WORD COUNT - 3.1k SUMMARY - You've been sneaking around with your best friend's older brother since summer. If it's supposed to be easy and casual, why does it feel so foolish? TAGS/WARNINGS - friends with benefits to lovers, female anatomy reader, teasing, alcohol/drinking, cursing, unprotected p in v sex, brief mentions of asphyxiation, creampie, josh has feelings first, dialogue heavy? NOTES - this is a self-indulgent fantasy smutty dialogue pracitce that isn't edited bc who has time for that these days. ignore overuse/repeat words if u love me. fan of josh since '15 only now i have the ability to do something about it

“You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?” Josh asks, leaning against the doorway, casually sipping a beer.

You glance up from the cards spread out in front of you. Ashley sits opposite you, deer-eyes round with awe from when she held off of your every word, hinting at her friendship with Chris potentially becoming something more. A small smile grows on your face as you gather the silky cards together and slot them back into place.

“You’re not just saying that because you’re scared, are you, Joshy boy?”

With another sip, the corner of his mouth ticks up with intrigue. He shoulders off the doorway and saunters over, eyes never leaving you.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he says cooly, sliding onto the stool that Ashley scoots out of. She shoots you a knowing look, a glimmer in the ring of her green eyes, a flush to her cheeks as she scurries back into the chatter-filled living room.

“Tell me,” he begins, lounging back in the wooden chair with a low, shadowed look on his face. A long sip of beer, a generous amount of lash-lidded eye contact. “What does my future hold?”

“Your future?” You smirk, skillfully shuffling the cards in your hand, cheeks warm when you lose the competition of holding his confident stare. The tarot cards are glossy and thick, a high-quality deck gilded with gold that you’d nabbed from a crystal shop that stunk of coconut incense and white sage.

A card flies from the deck, landing face-down. You reach and flip it over, revealing The Tower—a crumbling structure, lit with a devastating fire.

“Sudden, eruptive change.”

He leans closer, interest piqued. “What kind of change?”

“Well… let’s ask the cards to clarify,” you continue, reshuffling until another card leaps out. You pick it up, revealing a heart, daggered with three, long swords. “The Three of Swords. Heartache, and pain.”

He scoffs humorously. “The only heartbreaking and painful thing about this week was Chris eating my leftover pizza.”

You hum, unconvinced. Another card.

Ten of Cups reversed. Familial despair.

“It feels like a warning,” you say, trying not to look at the blatant picture. Familial grieving, pain, loss. Clearing your throat, you glance back up at him. “Almost like everything you know is about to change.”

“Hm. Seems ominous,” he replies, entirely not convinced. “What about my near future?” He perks a suggestive brow, licks the dry of his lips. “What are the cards saying about tonight?”

You roll your eyes, feigning indifference, but your hands tremble when you pull two cards. The Moon, and The Lovers.

“Hmm… looks like the cards are saying…” you faux scan the cards, then glance over your shoulder to ensure there aren’t any eavesdroppers. When you’re satisfied they’re distracted, you return with your chin propped on two folded hands and a small, mischievous smile.

“Your room. Midnight?”

His lips stretch into a grin. “Y’know, if the cards keep saying things like this, I might just become a believer.”

You mirror his smile, tucking yourself in tight as you lean closer to the counter.

Hannah walks in, playing with her fingers nervously, and you instinctively lean back. She glances between you, Josh, the cards, and twists her feet against the tile seams.

“You want a go, Han?” You ask. She nods, but appears apprehensive.

“Come on, Josh, client confidentiality. Get outta here. Scram.”

Josh laughs, once. “Alright. I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

Your eyes flicker to him for a moment. He nods with a poker face like steel, raises his beer in acknowledgement of his sister, and leaves the room without a second look.

It’s cruel, how he walks away. Cruel like it’ll never mean more to him.

Ashley, face pink from cocktails, corners you when you return from the readings, hand pawing at your arm.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Ash. What’s up?”

She leans closer, voice lowering. “Do you have a crush on Josh?”

You’re mid-sip of wine when she asks, and you sputter a cough.

“Excuse me?”

She grins. “You know. Do you like like him?”

Ever the butt of the joke, your defensiveness flares like the prickle of young flames. Is she teasing you? Your fingers tighten around the glass stem.

“No, I know what you meant,” you reply, face warming. “Um, no, Ash. I don’t have a crush on Josh.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I could totally set you guys up. I mean, I told you about my crush on…” she glances around, tactically lowering her voice. “…Chris. So, you can trust me!”

“Ash, I think everybody knows about your crush on Chris.”

She blinks like a doe in headlights. “No, they don’t,” her gaze slips away. “Do they?”

You sip from your glass. “Everybody except Chris, apparently.”

She whacks your arm gently. “Shut up! He might hear you!” She scolds, embarrassed. You chuckle to yourself, eyes drawn to your cup as you mindlessly swirl the drink.

“But, seriously, it’s probably good that you don’t have a crush on Josh. Hannah and Beth would kill you!” She laughs.

Your blood turns icy as your mind is suddenly overwhelmed by a flurry of hook-up flashbacks, and you take a healthy, guilt-numbing swig of your drink before replying.

“Haha. Yeah. You’re probably right about that.”

Two glasses of wine later, you excuse yourself for the bathroom and veer off path when the coast is clear to Josh’s room. His door is ajar, feeding through a slim slice of warm lamp lighting onto the dark hallway.

A familiar routine— a scratch for the itch, a hit for the craving. Can’t keep your hands off him, not since the first time. You’d be in so much trouble if the twins knew you were hooking up with their older brother, but the scandal of it all gives you hot flashes between the thighs.

Hands tickle up your sides when you sneak in. A flat palm over your shoulder to click the door shut.

“You’re late,” he teases.

You stifle your giggles. “Yeah, well, unless you want everybody finding out about whatever we’re doing, then you’ll have to be patient for me to find my moment to sneak off.”

He closes the space between you, pressing against your chest to tilt you against the dresser, feeling small beneath his frame. Knees locked around his hips when you hop up.

“Would it be so bad?” He murmurs, immediately kissing along your neck, hands greedy on your waist. “You know… if they knew? About us?”

Us. A word like hot coals, fingers instinctively recoiling from the topic. Excited butterflies turned to anxious wasps in your belly. Casual moments bleeding into lingering stares, “we’re just friends” to eye contact and hand-holding when he makes you cum.

You think Emily knows. She’s quick-witted and perceptive whenever you leave the room, eyes sharp like a bristled cat ready to pounce.

“What’s there to know? We’re just friends,” you say, and he hums sceptically in response. You clutch his shoulders, warm beneath wine-numb fingers. “Besides, Hannah and Beth would kill me—”

“So, that’s it?” He grins, pulling away just enough that you can feel his breath fanning across your clavicle. You smell alcohol and peppermint gum and your head spins from the proximity.

“I’m just your dirty little secret?”

He’s making fun of you.

“Shut up,” you whine, breath laboured from the tingly feeling he produces against your skin with his mouth. Arousal so severe you feel like you’re sixteen again, a hormonal ball of teenage puppy fat and insecurity.

“Fine. How’d Hannah’s reading go? What’d she wanna know?”

You sigh with frustration, trying to nudge your hips closer to his. “Josh, please don’t talk about your sister when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Oh, just like that, huh? Like I’m a piece of meat?”

“Isn’t that what you signed up for, pretty boy?”

He nips harder. “You think I’m pretty?”

A severe eye roll. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Well, I can be pretty convincing,” he mutters, pushing the hemline of your skirt up your thigh. “Your dress is cute. You wear it for me?”

You had— all butterflies and anticipation at the thought of easy access. A short, black milk-maid thing, as well as enduring an everything shower the night before, sore from vanilla-sugar exfoliation. Soft for him.

The words escape you in a stuttered breath when he thumbs up to your panty line, tipping it to the side.

“You wish.”

He noses against the column of your throat when he slips a finger against you, shuddery breaths when the slick gathers on his palm.

“Always so wet,” he strains, tipsy touches circling your clit, pressing into the honeyed entrance. “You’re insatiable, you know that? Can’t get enough of me?”

No.

“Mm… don’t flatter yourself. Consider it convenient.”

He tilts his head. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?”

“Stop— stop being such a dick,” you pant, muscles seizing against the sudden onslaught of building pleasure.

“Thought you liked me a little mean.”

He slides a singular finger into you, all molten and tingly as he knuckle-fucks you.

“Oh God, shut up.”

He sucks pressure onto your neck, affectionate with a hand on the small of your back. Your insides clench, aching with the urge to be filled, a desire his fingers would never be fully be able to satisfy.

You palm the growing mound behind his denim. “Need to feel you.”

He leans back, looking at you boyishly, pausing the work of his wrist.

“Right now?” His voice peaks. “But you’re hardly ready—”

“Gotta be quick.” You tug on his belt buckle and challenge his eye contact with lowered eyelids. “I can take it.”

You’ve rendered him stun-locked, shy.

He blinks. “Fuck— shit, okay,” he reaches for the zipper on his jeans, already steel-hard when he releases himself. He nudges closer, but you’ve never done it like this before. Not without a condom.

“This okay?” He asks hurriedly, the strain to his voice a sobering splash.

The wine blurs the line you promised not to cross. You glance down to where he fists himself, hastily spreading your slick across his length, and your lower belly flips.

You nod, bottom lip captured between your teeth. “Fuck. Please.”

“You sure?”

“Josh—”

“Alright, alright, needy.”

He slips a hand over the curve of your ass, propping you firmly on the dresser and nestling further between your thighs, notching his tip against your wet heat before pushing in. A sharp inhale accompanied by a hand on his chest, urging him to go slower.

It’s a tight stretch as you adjust to the weight of him pressing inside you, nails digging reflexively into the meat of his shoulders.

“Easy, I got you,” he murmurs, hand sliding up from guiding himself inside of you to the wall beside your head. His mouth captures yours as he sinks deeper, a balm to soothe the sting.

You don’t normally kiss. Not often, usually only when you’re drunk. It felt too intimate at first, too weird— because two “just friends” fucking each other’s brains out certainly wasn’t, but you sigh-melt when his tongue slips past the parting of your lips.

He rolls his hips shallowly once, twice— until the burn turns honey-silk, sheathed heavily in your velvet. He’s panting when he leans back, reaching up for purchase, something to ground himself. He instinctively goes for your waist, second-guesses himself, and leans a hand against the wall.

Dark eyes search for yours in the haze. “You alright?”

You slide your hands underneath his plaid shirt. “You trying to be romantic or something?”

He rolls his eyes. “Quit it.”

You bite down on your lower lip, suppressing a grin, and dig the ball of your foot into his ass to pull him closer.

“Get on with it, then.”

He obliges with a groan, pistoning slowly at first. A gentle back-and-forth, slickening himself up all sweet for you, precarious where he tries not to make the dresser rock too much. Helplessly his fingers cling to you, digging into the plush of your thigh, thumbing along the crease where the skin meets your hip.

He reaches to cradle your face and parts your kiss-wet lips with a thumb. You suck him into the cup of your mouth, tongue curling around his skin. You’ve never blowed him before but you’re sure he pictures you pretty on your knees with the way his eyes darken.

His thumb releases with a pop and he presses it against your clit, puffy with need.

The rhythm catches up, and soon you’re panting as you rock against one another. Arms clinging to the broad spread of his shoulders, legs squeezing around his waist. You could stay here forever, you think— drunk on the way he fucks you like he cares what you feel, what you think. Attentive, giving. Better than any exes and you’re sure he knows it— why else would you stick around?

Your best friend’s older brother.

“We should stop doing this,” you concede, words strung high across a moan. “Ashley thinks I’ve got a crush on you.”

A tilt of his head. Something flickers on his face, sparkles in his eye when his lip quirks up. Amusement.

“That right?” He breathes, teeth flashing. “Cute.”

“Jesus, right there—”

Panting breaths melt together between a symphony of curses. A roll of your eyes as your head tilts forward, nails digging into his tense biceps, bracing yourself against the pulse at your centre as his spit-silky thumb circles your clit.

He swallows thickly, throat bobbing against your temple. “Well… do you?”

You pull back from the crook of his neck you’d buried yourself into. “What?”

“Have a crush on me?”

You sock his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird.”

He grins, followed by a roll of his hips. “Oh, right, because that’ll make things weird.”

“Just— just keep doing that, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Footsteps and laughter.

Your eyes widen, nerves doused with adrenaline. “Someone’s coming—”

Josh’s hand snaps up and clamps across your mouth, his hips shifting to continue their pace but careful to mind knocking against the dresser. Eyes low and dark as he leans closer, cheeks flushed as he squeezes your face.

From outside the door, “Yo, where’s Josh?”

“He said he was going to get more beer!”

It’s Chris and Mike.

“He’s been gone for a while. Do you think he’s passed out in his room?”

Your brows scrunch, torn between the thrill of fear and pleasure. A moan squeaks behind his palm, every thrust a countdown. Josh mime-shushes you, licking his lips and glancing over at the door as footsteps pass by. Nothing but a piece of wood between you and a secret spilt.

You whimper, pussy turning to liquid heat between your thighs, fizzy with ecstasy, clamping down hard around his hips. Cobra tight around the lava sink and drag of his cock.

“Nah, man. Let’s check the wine cellar.”

The footsteps continue down the hallway, easing your adrenaline with each step as you turn gelatinous in his arms. He releases you at once and the oxygen runs to your head with a dizzying force, eyes wild as they address you.

“Did you…?”

“Mhm.” It pitches high, and his eyes widen with the realisation.

“You liked that. Do you want us to get caught?”

You tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Maybe I just liked you choking me.”

His brows raise. “Wait. Really?”

You smile wickedly in response, leaving the question unanswered— you aren’t trying to give him any ideas, but you feel that bubbly-wistfulness in your belly at the thought of his hand around your throat the next time he takes you.

You’re not meant to daydream or hope for the next time; this was only supposed to be a one-time thing— just shy of your nineteenth birthdays, fucking yourselves through a dry spell, but you’ve been jumping his bones since the Washington’s invited you to stay with them last summer and he showed you how to smoke your first joint.

You’re a sweet girl, their parents said. Hannah and Beth couldn’t have been more excited that their best friend was coming to stay for six weeks. They hadn’t suspected a thing.

That was last August. Now you’re here with the others for the annual winter getaway— the lodge all to yourselves, and you’d not even lasted a night before you’d tip-toed into his room at 1 AM.

Josh grunts into your neck, cock twitching within you, sliding in and out of your slickened pussy like water.

“Where should I…”

A vulnerable split-second of eye contact. Shivery energy zips between you and something atmospherically shifts, like a moon falling into orbital alignment. The space behind your rib cage becomes soft and malleable, gravity tugging on your heartstrings.

The Fool Card.

A dangerous cliff edge that you’re too wrapped up in the moment to take mind of. You’re already in this deep— might as well fling yourself over it.

You dig your fingers into him. “Inside.”

His eyes flash wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah— fuck, Josh, let me feel you.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. So fuckin’ hot.”

He thrusts with more urgency now, brows knit, teeth bared. Sharp when they slide along the skin of your shoulder.

He releases a cute grunt when he comes, nose buried in your neck, cock pulsing strongly inside of you. A sharp little rut of his hips, pushing himself deep, milking dry what remains.

Panting breaths mingle together, misty with post-sex sweat. You stroke the back of his exertion-damp head, cradled gently against your shoulder, his knuckles white as they brace against the dresser.

This is usually the time when you clear your throats and tug your clothes back on, but when he lifts his head to look at you, there’s something soft and sticky-sweet in the post-clarity lax of his features, the seraphic upturn of his brows.

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink at him. “Josh…”

Something visibly deflates on his face. “Sorry, sorry, I overstepped, I forgot the 'rules'—”

You grab him by the neck, thumb affectionately along the line of his jaw, and capture his mouth against yours. When you kiss he’s still sheathed to the hilt, chests pressing together, and you suddenly don’t feel so drunk anymore.

Everything narrows down, vision tunnelling. You’re suddenly not in a lodge with all of your friends, not propped up on his dresser, not just friends with benefits. You can pretend in the safety of his bedroom, making out like lovers, because when it’s this dark it’s just him, him, him, an utter mind-reeling consumption, so warm and soft and tender you feel shame trickle down your spine.

It’s not supposed to feel this good.

Spit strings between your mouths when you pull back.

“We should… go back to the others. Probably wondering where we are.”

He pants, gazing down at your lips. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We should do that.”

It’s cruel, the way he looks at you. Cruel like this means more to him, too.

dividers credit @saradika-graphics // mdni graphics credit @arcielee

[bluntforcefem]

is anyone ELSE always thinking abt the album cover for everybody wants - the struts or is it JUST ME

[vroomian]

Sometimes like real people do by hozier comes on at the exact wrong time and fucking destroys you! Followed by a little fall of rain from les miserables! And tha t is followed by I lost a friend by fineas!!!!

Falling into the modern girl in thedas rabbit hole again lol.

I want to do a human girl(?)/solas thing. She’s not important to the inquisition, and mostly works as a seamstress, and occasionally as a cook.

she’s highly aloof. I want her to be a foil to solas because she’s so distant from the other people. I personaly think that being stuck in a medieval level world would be unbearable, and I’d have trouble relating to the humans who live like that. I want her highly educated. She’s forgotten more than most people ever knew in the modern world. Putting her among people without even a third grade level education is…. So. She’s bored and she can’t really see the people around her as people and she’s trapped in filthy circumstances and have I mentioned that she’s bored???? It’s be hell to go from a world of constant stimulation to can’t do shit after sunset because it’s too dark.

Anyway she doesn’t really deal with anyone important until the journey to sky hold when she and solas fall together naturally as the quiet kids lol. She’s bored and in pain and can’t even find yarn to keep herself busy so she starts asking solas questions because hey even if he sees her little more than an animal, she sees him as a mildly interesting video game character so it’s like. A perfect match lol.

I also keep using she but I’m pretty sure she’s non binary in my head. Also a mage who learns to shapeshift because magics the one thing she doesn’t already know a lot about. She shifts gender and races and into animals. Anything she can. I think I’ll call her Mouse because she’s so quiet and no one actually knows her real name.

A scene: solas and mouse in skyhold are chilling together in scilence. He’s sketching her something and she’s knitting. Sometimes she sings to herself while she knits, because she’s so used to working to music that the silence gets oppressive sometimes. The song is definitely Follow you into the dark by death cab for cutie.

“Love of mine, some day you will die, but I’ll be close behind, I’ll follow you into the dark —“

But then she cuts herself off because solas has dropped his book, staring at her even paler than normal because: Oh.

This human is mortal. One day she’ll die. All that raw intelligence, all that quiet strength, all that deep contemplation would one day be no more than dust.

Solas leaves without saying anything to her. He has to fix this.

[k0yaz]

MAAM CMERE SIT DOWN LISTEN

Arlecchino x Harbinger fem reader and they have the type of relationship where they’re always “bickering” but it’s just Arlecchino telling reader to stfu and reader replying with smth SUPER suggestive and out of pocket headcanons 🗣️

Please and thank you 💕

arlecchino with an out of pocket girlfriend hcs

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, slightly suggestive, VERY short, I spent way too long at the fucking car dealership pls cut me some slack, I’m tired today, I love fellow arle fans but literally why are yall like the size of 5 nations omg, my spotify shuffle is so stupid I hate it, like wdym u keep playing the same song over and over.

A/N: YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND READER IS LITERALLY ME BRO also I lied but I’m too lazy to spill oneshots today so this was the only hc fic I had and I decided to be lazy on it 🕯️

OH MY GOD SOMEONE SAVE ARLECCHINO

As much as this woman loves you, she always cringes so hard at your flirty remarks. Like you swear she PHYSICALLY recoils from you.

It’s ok though you’re the only woman she’d tolerate this shit from

Both of you would have a disagreement here and there, but doesn’t take long for that to turn into full blown back and forth bickering the second you to open your mouth.

Arlecchino asks you to stop in an embarrassed voice as she covers her forehead. She was totally hiding that she’s lowkey flustered.

BRO HER CHILDREN MAKE FUN OF HER SO MUCH IF THEY WALK IN ON THIS

Like you’d be there giving Arlecchino that smirk as you say something that’s so unhinged, and most likely Lyney would walk in to his father looking away with her face slightly red.

Then he tells everyone and ends up getting his ass whooped by Arlecchino-

OH MY GOD ITS SO MUCH WORSE IN FRONT OF THE OTHER HARBINGERS

You tease her so much in public and at harbinger meetings that everyone just stares at you two like a deer in headlights.

You maybe considered doing it in front of the Tsaritsa…but you did have to maintain your respect for her so you ultimately didn’t do it.

Doesn’t mean you don’t want to though.

Pretty much your convos would go something like..

“(Name), with all due respect, please shut your mouth.” “Maybe just gag me with your fingers or an actual ball gag to shut me up instead!” “What the fuck.”

IM CRYING THAT WAS FUNNY TO WRITE

Anyway all in all as much of a pain in the ass as you are, she still loves you :3

…and maybe sometimes she takes your remarks too seriously and yall get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂.

A/N: I genuinely apologize for making this so short once again I feel super drained today and plus I had no ideas for this my brain juice is dry 💔

[mt-oe]

𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘼𝙧𝙚—bandmate mizu hcs

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I've been listening to an old playlist I made when I still had time to listen to various genres of music and nostalgia hit me in such a good way.

Hope that you will find much fun in these headcanons as much as I had fun writing them <3

Enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warnings: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

note/s: manager reader; mizu has a crush on you

✦ She plays both electric guitar and bass. She'd be sporting a white Epiphone 1961 Les Paul SG Standard, a graduation gift from her step father. Since it had so much sentimental value to her, she never really got around to replacing it. But when she got her first job, she spent the first few months saving up for her bass which was a Fender American Performer Mustang Bass.

You'll never see her in the studio without it. She even keeps it by her side when everyone's taking a small snack break. It's like they're her babies.

One time Taigen tried playing with it while Mizu was in the restroom and everyone was surprised at how fast she came out of the comfort room to smack him on the head with a force so heavy the smack sound echoed around. With that incident, everyone knew not to touch her instruments.

✦ Dresses up either in the typical oversized shirt and baggy pants...or like Kurt Cobain. You cannot change my mind. End of conversation.

✦ Mizu would be the type of member who has argued or fought with every one at least once. It didn't matter how insignificant the issue was. If she didn't like what she saw or what was happening, she doesn't hesitate to speak up about it. This, of course, led to arguments and fights that you often had to mediate.

Why you? It's because she never really listens to anyone else. If anyone else broke up the fight, she'd fight with them as well.

"Mizu," you sighed out, crossing your arms and staring at her with an unamused look.

When you arrived at the studio, Ringo had immediately informed you that Mizu and Akemi were arguing yet again. The atmosphere inside was so thick, you could probably cut it with a knife. This led you to pulling Mizu out of band practice to have a talk with her.

She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms back. Her head was turned towards another direction, not really able to look at you. "It's her damn fault. Her and her old man," she simply replied, making you sigh yet again.

"I know you're annoyed at her dad for interrupting our practice again but you know you can't argue with Akemi all the time," you responded, unfolding your arms and placing a hand on her shoulder. "We need both of you in this band, y'know?"

Her body tensed up slightly when she felt your hand make contact with her shoulder, a blush forming on her cheeks ever so slightly. Fuck you're so cute. She glanced at you before pushing herself off of the wall, rubbing a hand over her face, seemingly annoyed. "Fine, fine. I'll apologize," she grumbled

You smiled at her, making her glance at you again. "Thanks, Mizu."

When both of you returned inside, she immediately apologized to Akemi like a brat who was scolded. But Mizu knew she'd argue with Akemi again the next time her dad barges in the studio. She's just trying to please you for now.

✦ If she isn't playing, she'll be sitting all by herself, researching about where to buy instruments and paraphernalia or watching recordings of another band's recent gig. Ringo would often join her when he spots her. His sudden appearance often makes her jump. At first, it would just be Ringo talking about his day, then what he ate, then the new songs he discovered from the smart shuffle feature of Spotify to which Mizu would either respond by not saying anything or just nodding.

When Ringo spots her looking for better instruments, he'll start talking about second-hand equipment and old but gold repair shops. Although it seems like Mizu isn't listening to him, you'll spot her checking the seller's profile or going to the shop itself on her free time even if she had no intention in buying anything.

✦ Has the most random playlist among everyone in the band. While everyone had a main genre they stuck to, such as Taigen with grunge, Akemi with pop, and Ringo with country, Mizu just listens to whatever. As long as it sounds good, she adds it to her playlist.

And mind you, she just dumps all the songs in ONE playlist.

You tried listening to it once and hearing AC/DC's Back in Black after listening to Twice's TT followed by bouquet by Ichiko Aoba was not something you'd expect to hear in that order.

She gets embarrassed when she finds out you listened to her playlist but doesn't make it obvious. The next time you look at her profile, you'll find a playlist named "you, it's always you" and it's just filled with love songs and songs about having a crush.

✦ Along with the previous, their opponents during battle of the bands competitions often underestimate her. The other competitors would be so confused because why is this dude listening to Tchaikovsky backstage instead of practicing his rifts?

Mizu was simply chilling backstage, earphones in, listening to her random ass playlist again when a shadow looms over her. She looks up and sees Akemi, staring at her and saying something she could not hear.

She removes an earbud, raising an eyebrow at their vocalist in a seemingly annoyed manner. "Your music is too loud. We can hear it from the dressing room," Akemi points out, crossing her arms. She leans forward and looks at Mizu's phone before letting out an amused huff. "Don't you think listening to Hamilton before the competition is a bit weird?" she asks with a smirk.

The other bands sitting around and eavesdropping on the two whispered, glancing at them. Hamilton? Really? Before a battle of the bands competition? Bud is already throwing away his shot, they thought.

The guitarist simply grunts at her, shrugging her shoulders at her. "This is none of your business. Go warm up or something," she replies before putting her earbud back in and closing her eyes as she leaned back against the chair. Akemi rolled her eyes before walking off, probably to find the rest of the band.

When they get up on stage, everybody already thinks the guitarist doesn't know shit. But man, the look on everyone's faces when she starts playing Chopsuey? Goddamn.

Goddamn.

✦ Unlike the others members, she doesn't actively try to build connections with other bands. Once the competition is over, everyone except Mizu is out their mingling with other bands. You're out there talking with your fellow managers, Ringo is talking about food with the other bands for some reason, and Taigen is out there attracting the other women which leads to Akemi dragging him by the ear. Mizu is just...there.

She finds interacting with other people unnecessary. She also has her moments when she recognizes and wants to talk to someone from another band but she's too awkward to talk to them. What she'll do is just stare at them from a distance and wait for someone to introduce them to her.

"You're burning a hole through their heads," Taigen comments, sitting down next to Mizu on the equipment crate and propping his leg up. Mizu grunts in acknowledgement of his comment but continues to stare at the other band. "They probably think you're a weirdo," he laughs.

She glares at him for a brief moment before looking at the band at a distance again. "They had a gig in the bar near our studio. Pretty impressive," she explains. Taigen nods, now staring at the band too.

The both of them watch as you approached the band of interest, cheery and bubbly. Almost immediately, you were already chatting it up out there.

A manager's skill probably.

Mid-conversation, you felt someone watching you so you turned around, eyes meeting with the two. Your smile widened, making the two of them stand up, knowing what was about to happen. They watched as you talked with the other band again. Suddenly, they looked at Taigen and Mizu's direction and approached them with you by their side.

"And these are my bandmates!" you introduced, moving over to their side. Just as Mizu was about to shake the vocalist's hands, the vocalist from the other band immediately patted her shoulder. "You're that person from one of our gigs! So how was it?"

The introvert in her was thanking you so much.

✦ She's a lady killer, but she's also very awkward when women approach her. As much as Mizu is pretty, Mizu is undeniably very handsome as well. Let's be honest, who wouldn't be attracted to a tall, well-built guitarist with an aloof aura and the sexiest deep voice you've ever heard?

The problem was, she didn't really know how to interact with them. The moment someone tries to hit on her, she's either frozen stiff or already planning her escape.

Mizu could not do anything but stare at what had landed on her feet.

It was a bra. With someone's number on it.

"Call me! Please!" someone from the audience screamed. She looked around in confusion before looking at the article of underwear by her feet with her eyes narrowed. Slowly, she bent down and picked it up, holding it by the straps.

Holy shit these were big.

What the hell was she supposed to do with this? Throw it back to the owner? Poor Mizu was lost. She continued to hold it up awkwardly, trying to figure out what should she do. If you hadn't told her to toss it you, she'd probably still be staring at it by the next song.

And you'd think people would stop doing that, but no. In fact, the amount of women hitting on her backstage increased. The little incident on stage somehow increased her charm with the ladies. Because holy shit...she plays both guitar and bass, both tall and well-built, looks so fucking good in a relaxed fit, can be both pretty and handsome at the same time, has an aloof and mysterious aura, AND she's awkward?? Sign me up. Sign me the fuck up.

✦ Unintentionally gets good venues for gigs. That's why you always bring her with you when talking to the owner of the venue. None of you really know how she does it, but she does?

"For the last time, I'm telling you. We've already booked enough performers for this month," the owner grumbled, glaring at you and your persistence.

You frowned at him, clasping your hands in front. "Please! We just need a gig to fund a new amplifier," you begged, giving the owner doe eyes. To no avail, the old man wouldn't budge...is what you thought.

Mizu saw your frown and knitted eyebrows and decided that it was a good time to approach you. She looked at you before looking at the owner with narrowed eyes, almost like a glare. "Is there a problem?" she asked, stepping forward and closer to the owner, stopping only once she was almost face-to-face with him. Her sharp blue eyes stared at his, piercing through his soul.

The owner stepped back a bit, looking up at her before shaking his head. "No no, we were only uh...talking about which time slot you wanted next week!" he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

Upon hearing this, you immediately perked up and gently pushed Mizu aside. "What? Really?!" you exclaimed, holding on to the guitarist's arm in excitement. The owner nervously glanced back at Mizu, who was still looking at him with the same intimidating stare, before nodding in clear defeat.

After you had negotiated with him, the two of you left with a smile. "That went supeeer well!" you laughed out, looking over at Mizu. "What'd you do anyway?" You grasped her arm, shaking it slightly.

She shrugged, looking anywhere but at you to conceal her blush. "Beats me. I just looked over to see what you were frowning at."

✦ She doesn't like singing even if she sounds pretty good. Everyone in the band, except you, has heard her sing and has tried to convince her to be the lead vocalist for at least one song but is always greeted with a "no" or a "shut the fuck up". She WILL do the back up voice but she feels too insecure about how deep and husky her voice is so it's rare.

You didn't know she didn't like singing though and on one faithful occasion...

You opened the door to the studio and was immediately greeted by the sight of Mizu sitting on the floor with her guitar in hand. The two of you arrived pretty early so the rest weren't there yet. Her guitar was unplugged and it seems like she was looking up songs on her phone.

"Hey..." you greeted her quietly, to which she nodded. "What's up?"

She looked up from her phone before sitting up straight and propping her phone on her thigh, getting ready to play. For a moment, she did not do anything but stare at what was on her phone before looking at you.

"Want to hear me sing?"

You looked at her with wide eyes, a smile slowly tugging on the corner of your lips. Despite her question catching you off guard, it was still a welcomed surprise. You nodded and sat down on the floor next to her, leaning against her slightly.

Her breath hitched upon feeling you so close to her before she slowly relaxed and started strumming on the unplugged guitar. At first, she started strumming a bunch of random chords to calm her nerves. Once you heard the first few chords, you immediately recognized the song.

"If I could begin to be half of what you think of me, I could do about anything..." she sang, strumming on her guitar softly. "I could even learn how to love."

The way she was singing the song so shyly yet so tenderly warmed you up.

Each strum.

Each word.

Each pluck .

It was like she was singing the song with someone special in mind. You leaned closer to her, resting your head against her shoulder, not minding how much it was moving.

She moved her shoulder a bit lower so you could fully rest your head against it, still singing. "Look at you go. I just adore you." She glanced at you for a moment before continuing. "I wish that I knew...what makes you think I'm so special."

A small smile also tugged on her lips as she looked at you. You looked so peaceful. You felt so peaceful. Like you were enjoying your time with her as she continued to sing. "When I see the way you way you look shaken by how long it took, I could do about anything.."

"I could even learn how to love like you"

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter three

Summary: After choosing to leave with Bucky, it didn't take long for you to set him off.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout. Implied Sexual Intercourse.

Word Count: 1745

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A/N: I haven't stopped thinking about this chapter all day.

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos |

Bucky’s voice was demanding as he called out to you again. “Sorry, boys,” you glance back at Walker with a playful smirk  “But the sergeant’s orders come first,” you added, your loyalty to Bucky laced behind the words.

“But, I’m Captain America.” Walker protested, entitlement was evident in his tone. 

“Not my Captain America,” you shot back, your tone was defiant as you exited the car and followed behind Bucky. Though you couldn’t see Bucky’s face, you could almost see the smug grin taking over his face, knowing you were following his every step. 

You turned at the sound of the car door closing, Sam decided to join you and Bucky. Sending him a reassuring smile, you stopped to wait for him to catch up before continuing the walk together. 

Once back on the jet, a heavy silence settled between the three of you. Each of you got lost in your thoughts, reflecting on the mission’s outcome so far and pondering the next steps. Settling onto the red seat, your head resting in your hands, you mulled over the information you had gathered from over the comms and the walk back. Across from you, Sam lay on his back with his brow furrowed, deep in thought. Meanwhile, Bucky perched on top of the storage in the center, his gaze distant as he stared at the floor.

“You alright?” you snapped your gaze up to Sam as he broke the silence, his attention focused on Bucky as he nodded slightly.

“Let’s take the shield, Sam,” Bucky suggested, his gaze never leaving the floor. “Let’s take the shield and do this ourselves.” 

“We can’t just run on the man, beat him up, and take it,” Sam responded as he began to sit up. “Do you remember what happened the last time we stole it?” 

You did. 

~

You arrived with Sharon at the overpass, exiting the car, your heart clenched seeing Bucky in the backseat of their so-called ‘Getaway car’. He took up the majority of the back seat but still looked lost. After thanking Sharon for bringing you, you fit the back seat with Bucky.

“You don’t have to do this,” he mumbled softly as you shuffled around trying to get comfortable. 

“If I remember correctly, these were made while you were being framed,” you replied, glancing down at your hands. With a tug, you lifted your sleeve back, revealing the bruises he left on your wrist. “If anyone here knows you’re innocent, it’s me.”

After he escaped with Steve, you were confined alongside your fellow friends and teammates. By, your fellow friends and teammates. You couldn’t help but replay every time you stole a Quinjet to answer Bucky’s call in those two years. 

Receiving the messages from him - “I miss you,” or “I need you,” or  “Come.” - you’d be on a jet within the hour, flying from wherever to meet him in that dimly lit box apartment. It always ended with him taking his anger and frustration out on you for a few hours and then, you’d be back at the compound. Rarely, it would take you less than 24 hours to get to him. 

It wasn’t until Steve came to break you out, that you saw him again. Gasping when you noticed his missing arm, you hurried to him, and his right hand reached up to cp your cheek. This tender side was a rarity, the side made you wonder if there could be something more between you. Not just a physical intimacy. 

His calls became less frequent during his time in Wakanda, of course, he was back on ice for a time, but once he came out, it was not the same. You found that Wakanda made him better. He showed his tender side more often and his calls would last a weekend rather than just a couple of hours. This side of him helped relieve the pressure of being on the run.

And then, he vanished. 

~

As they spoke about the past, you couldn’t shake the thought of using your undercover and charisma skills to retrieve the shield. 

“You know,” you began tentatively, interrupting their conversation just as Sam had finished his side of the argument. “I could try to use, un, you know, the skills Natasha taught me to help with Walk-”

“No,” Bucky cut you off, his voice commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. His jaw was tight as he looked intensely at you.

“It’s just to bring his guard down,” you swallowed nervously.

“I said no,” his voice laced with anger. He jumped off the storage box and made his way over to you, leaning down to you his voice turned into a whisper that only you could hear. “I don’t share.”

Your breath caught in your throat, it had been a long time since you saw this side of Bucky, it was the possessive and angry Bucky that you first started sleeping with, the one who was obsessed with making sure went back to the compound with a notable mark somewhere on you. 

You nodded, worried about any words making his temper worse. 

“We just got our ass handed to us by Super Soldiers, and we got nothing,” the sound of Sam’s voice brought Bucky back to his usual grumpy old man personality which caused them to carry on their previous conversation. You just sat and listened, trying to avoid direct eye contact with Bucky.

~

After Bucky explained to Sam that there was someone else for him to meet, he turned his gaze back to you, “You should get some rest,” he suggested, his voice becoming gently but still firm.

Once off the jet, you left Sam and Bucky, found a nearby hotel, and booked yourself a room but before you could even sink into comfort, your phone began buzzing beside you. “What do you mean, arrested?” your voice cut through the silence of the room.

“He missed his count-mandated therapy,” you could sense Sam’s jaw tense as his answer came through the phone. 

So much for rest, you thought as you let out a heavy sigh and began to hastily get ready once again.

~

“Dr Raynor?” you called out as you came out of one of the offices holding a half-eaten donut in one hand and a box full of more in the other. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” The doctor inquired as she took in the surroundings, curious about your presence here.

“Somewhat,” you replied, returning the donut to the box. “That nice officer gave me a box of donuts,” you continued as you gestured over to Bucky, “Oh, also, that’s ‘Old Man’, the guy I mentioned to you.” Dr Raynor followed your motion, gaze steeling on Bucky leaning against the desk. A sigh slipped past her lips.

She continued explaining that she was here for Bucky and suggested that they have his session now and for Sam to join them. You half expected her to ask you to join, after all, he’s all she’s heard about for the last six months. 

“That wasn’t a request,” Raynor’s tone was firm as she directed Sam to attend the session. He glanced back at you briefly, you offered him a small nod, reassuring him that you’d be okay waiting before he followed Raynor and Bucky. 

You drummed your fingers impatiently as you waited for Sam and Bucky, moments passing and feeling like an eternity. Then, Walker’s earlier words resurfaced in your mind: “I’ll be outside.” A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of your lips and you planned a way to pass the time. 

Grabbing the box of donuts, you checked your appearance in a nearby window. You had decided you would take matters into your own hands, whether Bucky liked it or not. With confidence, you took long strides out to the street, ready to inject a little excitement into the new Captain’s life.

Leaning against the wall of the police station, you couldn’t resist the urge to test the waters with Walker, you cleared your throat to grab his attention. Sending him a smile as he looked over, you raised the box of donuts.

“Thought you boys might be hungry,” you bit your lips slightly as Walker started to make his way over to you. “You know, I worked right under Steve,” you said coyly, a glint of mischief flashed in your eyes as you looked up at him.

His interest had piqued as he looked down at you, his hand coming up to rest on the wall just left of your head. “Oh yeah?” he questioned, your comment about him not being your Cap earlier must have left his mind as he fell for your game. 

A sly smile played on your lips as you nodded, “Oh yeah, we were real close,” a part of you was gagging at the thought of you and Steve even acting like you were something, however, you were too good of an agent to let it show. A smirk formed on Walker’s face, and he began to lean in closer to you. Your hand brushed over the fabric of his suit, “I always love the stars and stripes.” 

Walker’s smirk widened, neither of you sensed Sam and Bucky making their way out of the station until Hoskins sirened the police car, grabbing their attention. 

Bucky was unable to contain his anger when he saw you practically pressed up the wall with Walker, with innocent doe eyes looking up at the blonde. Storming over, his jealousy and protectiveness took over as he grabbed you by the forearm and pulled you away.

“I said no,” Bucky growled in your ear, his voice low and authoritative. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Your jaw tightened, remaining silent as you looked up at Bucky’s scowl. It wasn’t until he turned around to join the conversation between Sam, Walker, and Hoskins, that you released a breath. You stood behind Bucky slightly, eyes never leaving the shield that scraped to Walker’s back. “I’ll get that shield,” you mumbled under your breath, so quiet you doubted even Bucky’s enhanced hearing would have picked up on it. 

After disagreeing with Walker, the three of you began walking back to the hotel. Sam and Bucky discussed a plan as you ate another donut. 

“We’re gonna go see Zemo,” you heard Sam confess as they halted in the middle of the street. You practically spat the donut out of your mouth in surprise. 

“Zemo?!” you hissed incredulously toward them.

---

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[liightsout]

guilty as sin? - daniel ricciardo x reader

(part one)

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader ✯

✯ word count: 3.6k ✯

✯ content warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption, abusive/unhealthy relationship ✯

✯ now playing: guilty as sin? - taylor swift ✯

✯ masterlist ✯

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Drownin’ in the Blue Nile, he sent me Downtown Lights, I hadn’t heard it in a while” 

You stared down at the phone in your hands. It felt as though the notification was mocking you. A teasing taunt that stung like a million paper cuts. You hadn’t spoken to Danny in years, but this one message from him still had the ability to send you reeling. 

Danny: this came on shuffle, made me think of you 

He’d sent you a screenshot of his Spotify showing what he was listening to. Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile. You opened up the app for yourself and pressed play. The gentle tones were like a magic key that unlocked the gates that held back the memories from all those years ago. 

You remember the first time he played you this song. You’d been on a night out for a mutual friend, Rosie’s, birthday and had ended up back at his apartment, you were both tipsy and not quite ready for bed. He poured you a glass of wine and showed you his favourite songs. You’d stayed up till the early morning sharing secrets and what felt like you every thought. No one had ever made you smile the way that he had that night. No one had made you laugh more.  

You were sure that the memories from that night would be engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Lingering stares and hands that touched for a moment too long in the dark haze of the nightclub. The way his eyes never faltered from yours as he asked if you wanted to go back to his place. The way his strong hand felt on the small of your back as he guided you from the club and onto the street. 

He has a girlfriend, you reminded yourself as you sat next to him in the back of the taxi. You had tried to drown out your thoughts and focus on the way his fingers tapped against the side of his leg as a distraction. It didn’t work. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to slip your smaller hand into his larger one. How his fingers would feel intertwined with yours. 

You swore to yourself that nothing would happen. You weren’t a home wrecker. You simply just couldn’t pull yourself away from Danny’s magnetic aura. From the moment your eyes had locked earlier that night it was like the pair of you were playing a strategic game of chess. You’d lost the moment you felt his fingertips against your skin. It was innocent enough, but it felt like more. 

Your friends had made sure you couldn’t forget about his girlfriend, even if you had tried. Each time they’d asked him why she hadn’t joined them that evening he would shrug his shoulders and brush their questions off like a professional, giving excuses of “she’s busy” or “ she’s out of town”. You never found out why she wasn’t with him that night, but you had a good idea. He had told you bits and pieces about his girlfriend, enough to see it was clear that it was a difficult subject for him. He wasn’t sure how long they would last. They were too different, and while it was fine at the start of their relationship, 9 months in the cracks were starting to show. 

She liked the finer things in life; fancy dinners and holidays in the most exclusive resorts. He liked being at home in Australia on his ranch, riding around on quad bikes and spending time with his family. 

It was safe to say that night the two of you had gone from friendly acquaintances to good friends. 

You remember feeling relieved and quietly disappointed that you had kept the promise you had made to yourself. Nothing had happened. But why did it feel like it had? 

“What the fuck are you listening to?” your boyfriend's disapproving tone felt more insulting than usual. He didn’t give you a chance to answer. It didn't matter anyway. Even if he had, how would you defend yourself without confessing the meaning behind the song? How could you possibly explain why this was one of your favourite songs of all time, despite it being so far from what you usually listened to. 

“Sorry Evan, I’ll turn it over now.” 

“My boredom’s bone deep, this cage was once just fine” 

You had met Evan a few weeks after that night at Danny’s apartment. You had been trying desperately to shake the thought of the Aussie from your memory, and were failing horribly at doing so. 

One of your close friends had been dating one of Evan’s. Your friend had assured you that Evan was the perfect guy for you. Every time she had brought it up you had declined, memories of Danny clouding your judgement. A few weeks of radio silence from Danny made it clear to you that that night had meant far more to you than it had to him. For that reason you had begrudgingly agreed to a blind date. 

The first night you met Evan you thought he was charming. Not as charming as Danny. 

He held your hand as he walked you to your apartment after the date. He kissed your cheek and told you he thought you were beautiful. You prayed to feel the butterflies fill your stomach the way it had when Danny as much as glanced in your general direction. The butterflies never came. You had concluded that it was better to be safe than starry eyed. 

Being with Evan was easy; simple. 

He wasn’t what you’d typically look for in a boyfriend. You were used to scruffy beards, oversized t-shirts and trainers. Evan wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a perfectly crisp white shirt and tie. 

He grew up in a wealthy family, appearances were everything to him. 

He worked in finance. You remembered thinking that Danny would laugh and call him a finance bro if he ever met him. You could picture yourself holding back laughter at how uncomfortable Danny’s outgoing persona would make Evan feel. He’d cringe at his humour and roll his eyes at his jokes. 

During weekdays Evan was out of the apartment by 7AM and rarely home before 9PM. He smelt like whiskey and cigarette smoke on the nights he would get home later. You didn’t bother asking him where he’d been. It wasn’t worth the argument. 

He spent his weekends playing golf or drinking with his friends. You had gotten used to time alone. You enjoyed the silence more than Evan’s moaning and rude comments. 

In the early days he’d take you on dates to the most expensive restaurants almost every night. He’d treat you to weekends away in countries you’d only dreamt of being able to visit. The website you had read online told you he had “love bombed” you. You wish you had seen the signs at the start of the relationship, but it was nice to feel wanted for a change. 

You felt like you were living someone else's life the majority of the time. It wasn’t that you felt you didn't deserve the finest things the world had to offer, it was something else entirely. It was only now you realised it was that you never felt at home in Evan’s world. 

In recent months you had started to call him out on his lack of ability to make time for you. He’d always bring home flowers as an apology. Arguments were reconciled by a blue Tiffany’s gift bag being left on your bed for you to find after he’d left to go to work the next day. You had a growing jewellery collection that screamed this relationship is failing. 

You felt it was too soon in your relationship for cracks like these to be showing. Surely these were issues couples stumbled into later on in life? Although, your relationship had been a fast paced one. Within 6 months of dating and Evan calling you his girlfriend you had been living together. Perhaps that was why the end felt like it had arrived sooner than it should have. You’d jumped too quick into something that wasn’t built to last, and now you had to suffer the consequences. 

“Am I allowed to cry?” 

Alone - that's how you found yourself on a Saturday night. An empty bottle of wine on the table in front of you. Taylor Swift’s saddest songs echoing throughout the empty apartment. 

Tonight’s argument with Evan had started the minute he had gotten home from golf with his friends. He was drunk and in a bad mood. 

You should have known better than to point out the lipstick smudge on his cheek, but it had happened one too many times recently and your patience had worn thin. 

“Are you really accusing me of that shit right now?” his mocking jeer had come at you like a stab to the gut. 

Was he right? Were you crazy to suggest that he would cheat on you? 

“I’m gonna leave you to think very carefully about what you’re insinuating right now. I’ll be back later, hopefully you’ll have gotten over whatever mood you’re in” he had said to you as he slammed the apartment door. 

“I dream of crackin’ locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” 

It was funny to you that a luxury apartment could feel like a prison cell. 

Your whole life you’d dreamt of living in a space like this. Large windows overlooking the city skyline, high ceilings and parquet floors. 

Nothing in the apartment belonged to you. You’d asked Evan if you could buy some furniture pieces of your own, to put your own mark on your shared home. He’d reminded you quickly that it was his apartment, not yours. You were a guest here and he made sure that you knew it. 

It was only now that you realised that this was not what you wanted for yourself, not really. 

You dreamt of throwing it all away, the fancy apartment, the obnoxious boyfriend, the fake friends. 

You longed for people who knew you. People who wanted to spend time with you. You’d fallen out of touch with a lot of your old friends when you’d started dating Evan. At the time you’d found it romantic to be swept up in a whirlwind romance. You knew now it was nothing more than a manipulative tactic to get you alone and all to himself. 

“Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox” 

Summer time in Monaco was one of the most incredible things you’d ever experienced. If you hadn’t gained much from the relationship with Evan, you were glad that you’d gained that. 

You’d been a few times since being with Evan. He went more frequently, of course, weekends away with the guys, business trips and such. You were shocked when he’d suggested you join him for his friend James’ birthday weekend in Monte Carlo. Despite not necessarily wishing to spend your weekend off work surrounded by his snotty friends and their girlfriends who barely spoke to you, you knew you couldn’t pass up the chance to go back to the country that you had fallen in love with. 

Usually you’d be annoyed that since arriving at the hotel you were staying in, Evan had all but forgotten you existed. He had left the minute you’d put your bags down in the foyer, letting you know he was going to meet the lads in the casino. He’d not been back to the hotel since, only sending a few messages letting you know what he was up to. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be that bothered by his behaviour. His absence meant you had gotten to explore the city more and treat yourself to some well deserved R&R. You’d walked along the beach and lost yourself in the winding streets of the city. You felt happier than you had in months. 

It all came crashing down later that night. Evan had brought you to his friend's villa for the official birthday party of the weekend. He’d only given you an hour's notice to get yourself ready for the evening, you’d been quietly annoyed that he’d neglected to tell you sooner. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it, not anymore. He didn’t, however, forget to remind you to dress presentably. Your eyes had rolled so hard at the statement you felt they could have fallen out the side of your head. 

Still, you had taken extra time taming your beach ready waves and styled it into a pretty updo that you knew Evan liked. Your lips were covered in the lipstick that Evan had told you was his favourite on you when you’d first started dating. He didn’t notice, or if he had, he didn’t care enough to say anything. You weren’t sure which was worse. 

You had picked out your favourite sundress you had brought with you. You felt it was the perfect combination of relaxed and presentable. It made you feel pretty. Even if Evan had given you a side eye the second you’d stepped out of the bedroom and declared you were ready to go. 

The villa was crammed with people that you didn’t know, it was a nightmare scenario for you. Your fingers gripped the wine glass in your hands, the chilled surface of the glass cooling the clammy heat that was sticking to your palms. 

You didn’t know where Evan was. He’d kissed your cheek the minute you’d walked into the building and told you he was off to find his friends. You didn’t really understand why he had brought you here in the first place. It wasn’t to show you off, that much was obvious. 

The patio out the back of the villa was a welcome sanctuary from the stuffy air inside. The minute you’d stepped out into the cooler evening air you felt instant relief. 

Your eyes searched around, looking for an empty seat you could hide yourself away on as you took tentative steps across the stone deck. Your attention skewed by the overwhelming view of the city that the garden looked out onto. The view of the ocean combined with the setting sun was breathtaking. 

You felt yourself collide with someone before you saw it happening. Strong hands gripped your upper arms preventing you from toppling over onto the floor. The wine in your glass had spilled out onto your dress, you could feel the cool liquid seeping through to your skin. 

Your eyes adjusted as you pulled back from the body you had collided with. Strong hands that had once gripped against your skin had fallen away as your eyes locked with the man in front of you. 

“Danny?” his name fell from your lips as a question rather than a greeting. Brown eyes stared into yours as his signature grin spread across his face. 

“I think I should be more confused about you being here than me, no?” the Aussie spoke with a teasing glint to his voice. You had missed his voice. The look of confusion stayed firmly planted on your face. You considered formulating a response, but it felt as though every word you wanted to speak was getting caught up in your throat. 

“What I mean to say is, how is it that I’ve not seen you in years, and now you show up here at some random blokes birthday party that I am sure you don’t know?” Danny elaborated. That playful smirk still dancing across his lips. You watched as his eyes shamelessly looked you up and down; you couldn’t stop the blush that you were sure was spreading across the tops of your cheeks.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t know the birthday boy,” you said with a laugh. “How come you’re here?” The question served as a good deflection. You didn’t want to speak to Danny about Evan. If you did he might stop looking at you the way he was right now. 

“Never took you for a gate crasher. I’ve been dragged here by Max, he wanted some company because he knew everyone here would be ridiculously boring, finance bros or something… didn’t really take that as your scene either?” Danny replied as he guided you both to the bench next to them. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. He’d hit the nail on the head there. 

You both fell immediately back into old habits. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting on that bench talking, but judging by the darkness that had now spread across the sky and the cold chill in the air, it had been at least a few hours. 

You took the time to study Danny. He hadn’t changed much in the time since you’d last seen him. He was still the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. Sun kissed tanned skin, dark tousled curls, glowing brown eyes, scruffy beard styled to perfection and a couple more tattoos on his arms. 

You were ripped from your thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you both. You didn’t need to look up, you knew who it was. 

“Urm babe, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Evan said as he stood next to you. You watched as his eyes darted between Danny and yourself. You sensed the Aussie tense up beside you. You felt bad, you should have told him you had a boyfriend. But you revelled in those hours spent with Danny, pretending that Evan didn’t exist. 

“Sorry, I bumped into an old friend and we got talking, lost track of time” you quickly apologised, the smile dropping from your face as you looked up at your boyfriend. He was pissed. 

“Friend?” the word came from his lips with a slight laugh. Great, you thought. He was drunk and pissed off. And now mocking the thought of you even having a friend at this ridiculous party. A braver woman would have cussed him out for that. You didn't feel brave, you felt embarrassed. 

“Yeah mate, friend. I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Danny” he said as he stood up to greet your boyfriend. Danny was at least 4 inches taller than Evan, and bigger in stature. Being a professional athlete, you knew that Danny was fit, but standing next to Evan it was clear to see the physical advantage he had on him. You hoped Evan felt intimidated. 

Danny’s face hadn’t faltered since Evan had interrupted the two of you. His look was firm, but polite enough, the signature beaming smile you loved so much was absent from his face. It was clear he was annoyed, you suspected he was pissed at you for not mentioning the fact you had a boyfriend. 

Evan choked out his name as he held out his hand for the Aussie to shake. You hoped he felt embarrassed for making such a scene, but you knew him better than that. Years of entitlement meant that he rarely was embarrassed by his own actions. 

“So, how do you two know each other? I didn’t know you had friends in Monaco babe?” Evan’s tone was accusatory. He clearly thought you were lying. You also realised that he had no idea who Danny was. If he knew he was a rich, famous, successful athlete he would have shifted into networking mode. 

“We’ve been friends for years, we haven’t seen each other  in a while so we had a lot to catch up on. Sorry to keep her from you mate, I presumed she was here alone seeing as you’d not been anywhere in sight for the last few hours” Danny replied. The apology was laced with judgement. He was clearly unhappy to see that your boyfriend had all but abandoned you. He was mad, but not at you. You could tell by the way his eyes had softened as they connected with yours once he was done staring down Evan. 

“Well, sorry to interrupt the big reunion, but we’re heading off. I’ll meet you out front babe,” Evan spat at you as he turned and stormed back into the villa. You felt your body sigh in relief as you watched his figure disappear. Sheepishly you turned and faced Danny, your brain trying to find the right words to apologise for Evan’s behaviour. 

“I’m so sorry about him Danny, he’s just drunk and annoyed, not that that’s an excuse… I’m sorry for not mentioning him before, I should have said something-” you were cut off by Danny’s warm hand grabbing yours. You felt the air catch in your throat as his fingers found yours. The cool metal of his rings felt like ice against your skin. 

“Please don’t apologise for him being an asshole, that’s all on him. And you don’t need to apologise for not saying anything about having a boyfriend. I’ll be totally honest, I kind of already knew…” his words trailed off as a sly smile appeared on his face. Words failed you as you nodded your head, a signal for him to explain himself. 

“I may have stalked your Instagram a couple times, and I saw Rosie a few months back in the paddock. I asked her how you were doing and she mentioned that you had a boyfriend now. She misses you y’know?” the Aussie said, the last part was whispered. You felt the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You missed Rosie. You missed your old life. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return. You suspected that Danny knew all he needed to know by your glossy eyes and shaky hands. 

“It was nice seeing you Danny” you said to him as a parting farewell. His hand squeezed yours gently before you pulled away from him. 

You walked through the villa towards Evan who waited for you out front. You couldn’t help but feel like you were walking away from the one man you should have been running towards.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ authors note: hey lovelies! i have been OBSESSED with this song since TTPD dropped, probably one of my favourite taylor songs ever.

this is part one of two, there will then be a few other chapters relating to the same story based on other songs from TTPD, kind of like a mini series of sorts!

not sure if anyone cares, but fear not, i have not abandoned the blue! i just needed to write something else as well.

hope you enjoy this, as always, comments/messages etc are so appreciated and i love receiving them.

speak soon, love you all! ✯

[kaiijo]

Hii!! I loved the idea of the spotify wrapped event and I also loved your one piece one shots! Can I request 41 x Law? If you dont write for him you can write for Zoro or whoever you think would be fitting :)

IVY — TRAFALGAR LAW

trafalgar law + Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland content: gn! reader, canon-typical descriptions of violence, references to law’s past notes: thanks so much for your kind words! hope you enjoy this drabble!

request a character and prompt for my spotify wrapped event here!

law is no stranger to nightmares. he’s accustomed to jolting awake, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, chest heaving with anxiety and fear. he tries to remember what his parents used to tell him to calm his racing heart: inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale in a count of eight. 

in. hold. out.

in. hold. out.

law doesn’t sleep a lot anymore, always locked in his office late at night, poring over books about anatomy and medicine and illnesses. it’s mostly because he’s working, the insomnia, but he knows there’s a part of him that’s almost scared to sleep — that doesn’t want to see looped images of dead bodies, feel the heat of erupting flames, hear the sounds of gunshots. 

law watches as you and penguin duck under a round of marine gunfire, diving for cover behind a building. civilians draw their shutters closed. the crew’s gotten what they need from the town, now it’s a matter of getting out. 

you sprint out from your hiding place, penguin hot on your heels. there’s another rain of bullets and law’s stomach lurches when he sees red dribbling down your arm, skin grazed by the bullet. he needs to get you two out of there now.

law lifts a hand. “room. shambles.” he switches you and penguin out for an empty crate and just like that, the two of you are standing safe on the polar tang’s deck. you’re both breathing hard, penguin resting his hands on his knees. you grab at your arm and law can tell that whatever adrenaline has been pumping through your veins is starting to wear off; you wince at the cut on your arm, your palm stained with blood. 

law gets the crew mobilized fast, everyone hustling to get the below deck so the polar tang can submerge. law swiftly and efficiently takes down the remaining marines, heading down below as the submarine sinks below the water.

he finds you heading for the washroom. he calls your name and you whirl around quickly. “captain,” you greet him.

“follow me.” law makes sure his tone leaves no room for argument and you shuffle behind him as he walks to the operating room.

you frown when you enter the room. “captain, i really don’t think my injury warrants an opera—”

he sighs heavily. “i’m not operating. just want to get somewhere more sterile. sit on the table.”

you obey easily and law opens up a cabinet, grabbing hydrogen peroxide, a roll of bandages, and antibiotic cream. he also picks up a sterilized pair of tweezers. when he turns around, you’re already shrugging out of your boiler suit, twitching as the fabric rubs against your wound. 

law approaches, doing is best to keep his eyes on the wound and not on the exposed skin you revealed. when you joined the crew, law had never been more thankful to himself for making the boiler suits uniform. he doesn’t know if he could focus otherwise.

he examines the wound, looking closely to see if there are any bits of debris or fabric stuck in it. when he doesn’t see anything, law soaks a sterile pad in hydrogen peroxide and presses it against your graze. you make a high-pitched, wounded sound that cuts right through law’s heart and he tries his best to tenderly but thoroughly clean the wound. you flinch, gritting your teeth and hissing, “you really must hate me, captain.” 

you let out a pained laugh that lets law know you were joking but your statement still makes him frown. if only you knew just how much the opposite was true.

law sighs again, wrapping the bandage roll around your arm and snapping off a piece, securing it. you test the motion of your arm and law asks, “too tight?”

“no, it’s good.” you hop off the table. “thanks, doc.”

“i’ll need to check that every few days,” he tells you, “to watch for infection.”

“sounds good! guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” you shoot him a cheeky smile and thank him again as you slip out of the room. law is rooted to his spot, feeling heat climb up his neck. you faint scent lingers — cinnamon shampoo and apple soap.

law’s heart skips a beat.

late into the night, law sits at his desk in his office, doing is best trying to focus on the medical text in front of him. he thinks about the smoothness of your skin and the way your eyes curve into half-moons when you smile. he drags a hand down his face. 

he needs to focus. he needs to not think about you. he needs to think about bones and hairline fractures and how fast the human heart can go before it—

law hears footsteps and he knows it’s you, beckoning you in even before you can announce your arrival and knock on the door. you swing it open, smiling brightly at him. gods, he swears you hold moonbeams in your grin.

“right as always,” you say as you close the door behind yourself. 

“do you need something? is it your arm?”

you shake your head. “no, just thought i’d check up on you. knew you’d still be up.”

law offers a wry smile. “no rest of the wicked.”

“i’d agree with you, but you’re not wicked, captain.”

law raises an eyebrow in surprise. he is wicked — it’s a known fact. everything he touches is destroyed eventually. when he doesn’t reply, you continue, “you look out for everyone, you’re a doctor for gods’ sakes.”

“so? bad people can do good things.”

your moonbeam smile falls and your expression turns stern. “you care for us, captain, all of us in a way that no one truly wicked ever would. don’t talk about yourself that way. ”

his heart’s in his throat and he’s desperately trying to swallow it down. “okay.”

you nod firmly and then bring your hand up to hide your yawning mouth. law tells you, “you should get some rest.”

“i came here to get you to go to sleep.”

“don’t worry about me.”

you cross your arms. “i’m not going to sleep until you do.”

law levels you with a stare and you gaze right back, unwavering in your conviction. you two stare for a good few seconds. he can see the way your eyes shimmer. it doesn’t seem that you’re backing down. law breaks the connection and sighs, “fine. let’s go.”

he puts away his books and papers and the two of you head down the hallway. he tries to guide you to your room first but you say, “nope. i want to make sure you actually go to sleep.” so you head for his quarters first. 

you come to his door and you say, “you better get some sleep. a healthy, well-rested captain is vital for an efficient and successful crew.”

“i know.” 

he basks in the comfortable silence that falls over the pair of you. then, you yawn again and he orders you off to bed yourself. you smile sleepily at him, your eyes form crescents again as you do so. “alright, i’m off then.” you turn and begin to walk away. over your shoulder, you call softly, “good night, law.”

he bids you good night and steps inside his room, door shutting behind him. it’s in there, as he’s changing into pajamas, that he realizes. 

it’s the first time you said ‘law,’ not ‘captain.’

your voice repeats like a record in his head. law. law. law. his heart thunders in his chest.

for the first time in a long time, law isn’t afraid to fall asleep. instead of the screaming nightmares he usually faces, he’s met with a different image as he drifts off. 

in a tender, hazy light, law dreams of you.

[merrycrisis-if]

i hope nobody has done this before but!

F!MC x F!QIU to the sailor song - Gigi Perez

Wow, mad! I was just listening to Chappell Roan, and Spotify decided to play Sailor Song on shuffle after, and I was JUST thinking "hmm good song, I wanna add it", and I saw your ask!

Almost seems like you're staring over my shoulder....

Anyway, I absolutely love the song and the whole cat-and-mouse, "I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long" vibes is so MCxQiu coded for sure.

[shyshyaaaaaa]

One of my favourite things about falsettos is how I found about it:

It was a Thursday night and I was just scrolling idly through YouTube, bored out of my mind. When suddenly, I get this 2 hour and 20 minute long video on my homepage titled “hepa hepa hepatitis hepatitis hepatitis?” Funniest title I’ve ever seen without context. So obviously, I click on it, not knowing what the hell I’d find (and being a bit startled by Andrew Rannells staring at me in the thumbnail). And then I see the opening for the musical. “Christian borle” oh I’ve heard of that guy! Love him in Something Rotten and CATCF! “Andrew Rannells” oh isn’t that the guy who’s in the Book of Mormon? He voices Veneer right? “Falsettos” OH I’ve heard of that before! I listened to a bit of the soundtrack when it was shuffling randomly on Spotify! And now usually, I don’t have the attention span for videos this long and musicals that I’m not seeing live, but that time I js went “fuck it!” and watched it through.

Best choice of my fucking life.

Photos from that night:

Average falsettos experience,, also face reveal ig!! But yeah. I was hooked. And I find it genuinely amazing how just one little random click on a video with a funny title could get to me where I am now: drawing all the characters, writing fanfics, falling inlove with the cast (2016 and 1992), and having an “encyclopedic knowledge of all things Falsettos” (my grammas words).

So yeah. Just a little story. Thought I’d share, cuz I still think about that night and it puts a smile on my face.

Thanks for reading :)

Edit: thanks for the notes and support on the post!! Usually when I post stuff that isn’t art related people don’t see it it so ty all for caring about my silly story :3

[rip-quizilla]

Polyjamourous

Eddie x GN!Reader

Description: You get a job at the record store, where you terrorize Eddie with so many different genres of music that he gets whiplash, but your energy is adorable so he's instantly soft for you.

Tags: big grumpy/sunshine trope here, fluff, workplace relationship (kind of), outgoing!reader, Hannah putting her liked songs on shuffle and using them here shamelessly, no physical description of reader other than hinting that they have a glorious gyatt that Eddie can't help but stare at.

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I didn't coin the term "polyjamourous"! I saw it in a TikTok by Viktor Fellbrink. Does it describe me perfectly though? Absolutely.

🎧🎧🎧

When Eddie had interviewed you for a job at the record store downtown, one of the first questions he’d asked was about your taste in music. Your response had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m polyjamourous.” you’d said. 

Eddie had blinked a couple of times, a snorted laugh jumping from his throat. “Polyjamorous…” he’d repeated, an amused grin ticking up the corner of his mouth. “That’s one I have not heard before.”

You had shrugged, smiling the same way you’d been smiling throughout the entire interview. “I listen to a little bit of everything, I like pretty much all music.” 

What Eddie had expected from that was mostly pop, maybe a classic rock hit here and there. Judging by the ripped jeans and Doc Martens you were wearing the day of your interview, he suspected there may have been an emo/alt rock phase in your history so maybe some Paramore or MCR. 

What he hadn’t been expecting was the fact that when you said you liked all music, you meant all music. 

A month into working with you, and he already dreaded the days that you’d signed your name on the list entitled “Aux Cord Dibs” that sat on a tattered clipboard under the counter. The first hour of your shuffled liked songs on Spotify, and Eddie already had whiplash. 

The songs that played (in order) were:

Satisfied- The Broadway Cast of Hamilton

Raise Hell- Brandi Carlile

The Offering- Sleep Token

Magical- Ed Sheeran

Dream a Little Dream of Me- Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

Just to name a few.

Not only were you completely unashamed that the first song to pop up under your aux cord time was a fucking show tune, but you knew every word. You sang, rapped- acted- every word. 

Eddie was now absolutely sure that you had had an emo phase, because this meant you were also a theater kid (same as him, but he wasn’t about to admit that to you) and in Eddie’s experience, most theater kids were also emo kids in some way, shape, or form.

“How much coffee did you drink this morning?” he’d muttered once you’d finished your one-woman show whilst shelving new records. 

“No coffee, this is all natural.” You’d said that with a grin so wide, it was obvious to him that you knew how obnoxious that sounded and you were taking it in stride. 

“You’re just the Energizer bunny… naturally?” 

Somehow, you grinned wider. “Yes!”

You can imagine how terrified Eddie was when you pulled a Celcius out of your bag an hour later. What happens when you give an energy drink to a person with natural energy?

You get impromptu dance breaks. 

Eddie had been boxing up an online order when out of the corner of his eye, he saw your oversized sweatered form bouncing around between aisles to the beat of whatever K-Pop bullshit was currently assaulting his speakers. 

Wordlessly, his eyes drifted to the monitor displaying the security camera feed where he found a full view of your hopping, stepping, and jumping to the bouncy rhythm of a Korean song with random English words sprinkled in. The grainy feed from the camera even picked up the subtle motion of your lips moving, and Eddie’s lips couldn’t help but twist into an amused little smile when he realized that must mean you were even trying to lip sync to the words, and he might be wrong but he was pretty sure you didn’t speak Korean.

His shoulders shook, silently chuckling at your antics until the music slowed down in tempo. Your hips began to move in slow, pronounced circles, sending the rest of your body rolling with the momentum. Eddie knew you didn’t mean to turn him on with the way your hips were moving… but you had an ass that shook when you walked, much less when you were actually wiggling your hips around. It wasn’t a you problem that was making Eddie’s eyes bug out of his skull and glue themselves to the screen; it was definitely an Eddie problem.

He had to keep it professional; Eddie was a shift manager, and while he wasn’t technically your boss, that was a gray area delicate enough that he didn’t plan on rushing into anything risky. The last thing he should be doing was ogling you on the security camera like a fucking creep. So, he made a point to pay attention to literally anything else whenever you started dancing around the store like some sort of coked-up cheerleader.

After a few shifts with Eddie, you started to notice that he was pointedly ignoring your antics- which made forcing him to pay attention all the more entertaining. The job could be boring on slow days, so this was how you entertained yourself- annoying the shit out of Eddie Munson.

Eddie: “If I hear one more show tune, I’m commandeering the aux cord.”

You: Proceeds to belt all three parts of Sincerely Me from Dear Evan Hansen, complete with choreography.

Eddie: “Is there any metal on this playlist? Just one song? I need a breather…”

You: Introduces Eddie to Babymetal.

One day, you even forced Eddie to suffer through Lizzo. That was funny as all hell, if you’d ever seen it. 

“I feel like I’m walking through a Forever 21.” He’d grumbled as you cheekily shimmied your shoulders at him and mimed a toss of your hair for good measure. 

“First of all,” you laughed, “I’m impressed you know what Forever 21 is.”

“I have been to a mall, you know.”

“Second,” you continued, “You’re starting to come off as a bit of a music elitist.”

Eddie shook his head, shelving new records from the stack of crates on the floor. “It isn’t a crime to know what I like and don’t like, kid.”

You smirked, reaching wordlessly over to the media center behind the counter and turning up the music. It was empty in the store save for you and Eddie, so the change in volume wouldn’t hurt anyone. Lizzo’s Like a Girl rang out through the speakers, and you made a show of losing yourself to the beat just to spite the metalhead before you. 

Eddie sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if God himself could save him from this torment; he couldn’t stop the whisper of a smile from creeping into the corners of his lips. “What did I do to deserve this shit?” he groaned.

Your grin was blazing, infectious in the way you wore it with reckless abandon as you danced from shelf to shelf with one of the crates of records. When the crate was empty, each album carefully nestled in its appropriate place, you set the crate down on the floor right as the chorus started and your hips shook in time with the drop of the beat. 

Eddie had been looking out the corner of his eye the whole time, but averted his gaze immediately once you were shaking your ass in the air. Unbeknownst to you, he was doing everything in his power not to stare.

Bouncing as you perked back up, you flashed him a sadistic grin and shrugged. “You just make it so much fun to torture you, sorry.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, “That was the emptiest apology I’ve ever heard.” To which you laughed and heartily agreed, launching your whole self into shaking all you had to the beat, even going so far as to plant your foot on the edge of the counter. 

You looked more silly than sexy, even Eddie could admit that, but it was your reckless abandon and giant fucking smile that made him break in that moment. You were shaking your ass- was that twerking? Eddie didn’t think it was twerking, but then again, he wasn’t an expert- and singing along to the music with so much energy that Eddie’s smile finally won his face over. He nodded his head to the beat, even shimmied his shoulders a little, and watched you make an adorable fool of yourself. 

That was when the door opened, sending a chime through the shop as a very confused Steve and Robin walked through the door just in time to see you shaking your ass in their direction. 

As far as you knew, these two were customers, so you swiftly tore your foot from the counter and started to apologize before Steve cut you off with a lopsided grin and a midair brush of his hand. 

“Please don’t apologize, because that might be the best first impression you could’ve made on me.” He confidently strode forward, already extending a hand which you happily accepted. Steve had a way of putting people at ease, Eddie had noticed, even if they had been the opposite of “at ease” before he’d entered the scene. 

He watched straight-faced as Steve struck up a conversation with you about being friends with Eddie and stopping by to say hello, then proceeded to introduce himself and ask you about yourself with the confidence and coolness that came so easily to people like Steve Harrington. Eddie chewed his lip and felt an unwelcome flare of jealousy in his stomach when you gave Steve the same smile that- up until now- you’d been giving him. 

 “So that’s the new hire you told us about?” Robin asked, voice low enough that only Eddie could hear.

He nodded, eyes trained on Steve as he said some joke that made you laugh. “Yeeeeeuup.” Eddie drew out the word, lacing passive aggression into every extra syllable. 

“I see.” Robin looked at Eddie, arching an eyebrow as she wordlessly assessed him, then slowly looked at you and smiled knowingly. “Well, if you’re gonna make a move, better beat Steve to it.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head, murmuring out the corner of his mouth “Stay. Out of it.”  before picking up his crate of records and moving to a different shelf. You were out of sight, but your and Steve’s voices still carried to where he worked. 

“...a little bit of everything.” Eddie heard you say, picking up on your conversation as he silently shelved new inventory. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Nothing in particular, I just jam to whatever’s on the radio.” Already inwardly cringing at how Steve must be shrugging or tossing his hair or some shit, Eddie eavesdropped inconspicuously. “Compared to a seasoned listener like yourself, I must sound like an idiot. You should make a playlist for me, so I can know what an expert would recommend.” 

“Expert?” you snorted, “Oh I’m hardly an expert. Half of what I listen to is garbage, but it’s fun garbage so I’m not ashamed. Eddie’s the expert.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if you knew he was nearby enough to hear you, but he wasn’t about to miss out on whatever you were about to say about him, so he remained silent and out of sight. 

Harrington scoffed. “Expert on metal, sure, but unless you’re into headbanging and screaming, I think he’d be pretty lost-”

“Not true.” you interjected. “He likes some classic rock, a bit of old school jazz- you know I played a song by Bob Dylan one day, and he started rattling off all these facts about the guy?” 

Eddie remembered that day. He’d almost told you that he knew all those facts because his mom had loved Bob Dylan, but he thought talking about his dead mom might be a little more personal than you were prepared to get with him so early into knowing him. 

“When Eddie hears music he thinks is good, it doesn’t matter what genre it is- he respects it whether it’s his taste or not.” Eddie had long since stopped shelving; he stood stock still, listening with wide eyes as you spoke with more admiration in your voice than Eddie had ever expected to belong to him. “I play a crazy wide range of music when I work with him, and every time a song I really love comes on it’s hard for me to not focus on how he’s reacting to it. It’s like every time, I’m in my head like- will he like this one?”

Steve was quiet for a moment before Eddie heard him reply, “Sounds like you’re hoping you’ll impress him.” 

Eddie felt his heart start beating a little faster. Were you?

You giggled a little, and for a moment Eddie’s heart fell when he thought you were laughing at the very insinuation that you might want to impress him.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” he heard  you say. “I haven’t known Eddie long, but I’ve always thought he’s an impressive person. It’s hard not to want to impress him back.”

Eddie couldn’t suppress his smile even if he’d wanted to. Sneaking around the shelves where you couldn’t see him, he turned a corner to continue his work as he hummed to himself.

After you’d locked the doors at 8, the two of you were closing down the shop alone as your playlist quietly painted the quiet evening air. You were walking through the store doing your final check while Eddie took inventory, and Eddie had been silently nodding his head to the beat of the music as you came into view of the checkout counter.

“What song is this?”

Your eyes widened, and the eagerness in your gaze made Eddie’s heart just about burst. 

“Uh, it’s Chicken by Your Neighbors.” you stuttered, “You like it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, softly, “it’s good.”

There was that blinding grin again, contagious in how it fed his until it doubled in size. “Yeah, it is.” 

A pause settled between the two of you, song lyrics potent in the evening’s silence. 

You ain’t got no time to wait

You don’t get what you don’t ask for

“Hey, uhh…” Eddie was quick to grab your attention, and you watched him wide-eyed and expectant. “...feel like getting pizza after this? Surfer Boy doesn’t close ‘til midnight, and I was gonna stop by to see my buddy Argyle after closing anyway, so-”

“Yes!” you agreed, a little more eagerly than you had originally intended to come across. You cleared your throat, “I mean, if it’s no trouble-”

“No trouble at all, it's just down the street, I’ll walk with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were both grinning like idiots, but neither of you seemed to care. You continued your closing duties, both of you nodding your heads to the beat of the music and enjoying the feelings that, though unspoken and undefined, were currently nestling comfortably into your chest and his. 

Taglist: (really just people I have been talking about this to, I hope you like it❤️) @the-unforgivenn, @vintagehellfire, @munson-blurbs, @hellfire--cult, @word-wytch

[24carathoney]

Crimsons Ties | C.SC | Chapter 2

Pairing: Vampire!Choi Seungcheol x Witch!FemReader

Summary: Follow Y/N as her world is flipped upside down when she discovers the truth about her bloodline.

Warnings: Fluff // Angst // Smut (later) // Violence // Blood // Mingyu is still a dick //

WC: 3.8k

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Tagging @nonuify for beta reading!

Lillian has been teaching you everything she knows for the past 2 years. And in that time you had managed to surpass her. Just as your grandmother surpassed her mentor. You mainly studied the spectrum of healing as opposed to fighting. Growing your own herbs, healing those in need. You wanted to use your powers to give back. You've grown to be one of the best medical witches in the area. If you were going to train you might as well learn how to heal yourself if need be. Lillian was back in school but luckily you didn't need her to do everything for you. You took care of the house. Her garden. Her younger pupils. Unfortunately you have never seen Joshua in person since then. The two of you kept in contact as much as you could but soon enough days turned into months and months into years since you last received a text. Seventeen were still promoting and becoming a bigger name out in the world. You did nothing but watch him from behind a screen. Happy he's at least alive and kicking. 

You smiled at the TV as you carried the pot from the counter to the stove intent on making dinner. 

You reached for the cabinet and searched for some cooking wine. When you saw none, a sigh left your lips and you rolled your eyes. A trip to the bar was imminent. You grabbed your bag and phone on your way out the door. You decided on walking with your hands in your pockets as the bar was that far of a walk. You swiped on Spotify and Seventeen appeared after hitting shuffle. You gave a soft sigh when Super started to play and immediately thought about Joshua. Before you could dive too far into reminiscing a low whine caught your attention. Behind the house there was a small wolf, cowering next to a bush. You slowly approached the small animal with a raised hand, showing him that you aren't a threat. A low growl turned whine was thrown in your direction and you frowned. “It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Seems like someone else already did that.” You smiled as the wolf stood in a defensive stance. You knelt down, slowly holding out your hand wanting to gain its trust. “Let me see?”

The animal slowly limped towards you and you reached for its paw. Definitely broken. Your palm released a familiar purple hue and you shut your eyes feeling the bones reconnect to each other. Another whine reached your ears and you opened your eyes, letting go of its paw. When you sat it back to the ground the wolf looked at you with amazement in its eyes. “You're all good now. Be careful next time.” You said with a smile before being on your way. The wolf looked after you before trotting away behind the houses. Taking notice of the other being before you could. You continued to walk as the bright neon sign of the bar came into view. Just before you could get across the street, the hair on the back of your neck stood up. You came to a sudden stop as you debated whether or not to turn around and give whoever is staring at you, a piece of your mind. When you spun around you frowned as the only person looking at you was all the way across the street. 

You stood with your hands in your pockets as you watched the man stare you down from the sidewalk. Wait. You know him. His face. He's part of Joshua's coven, Kwon Soonyoung. The hell is he doing here? His eyes narrowed as they landed on your form and you scanned your surroundings. There's too many people. Last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt someone so you turn around to the bar. You didn't dare look back as you quickly got to your destination. Feeling it was safe to turn around you noticed him stalking closer, you rubbed your fingers together in your pocket deciding on taking a chance. Just as he was about to make a move after noticing your chance in stance, Joshua appeared, grabbing your hand, dragging you inside. “Shua? Well I'll be damned, where have you been?”

“It's complicated.” He said as the two of you sat down. You tapped the table with your finger and swallowed your spit as sarcasm found its home on the tip of your tongue.

“Wow Y/N, we haven't spoken in 2 years, how have you been?” “Oh I'm great just been studying my family bloodline, learning how to heal shit. You know the usual.” He rolled his eyes at your rambling while you sat with your arms crossed. “So I take it you're here for the same reason he is?” You tilted your head in the direction of the door and Joshua turned to see his band mate standing there. 

“Yeah. But that's because we really need your help. It's kind of a medical emergency and I hear you're one of the best medical witches now. Must have been hell training for that.”

“Yeah. It was, especially when no one else was there all the time. Not easy having to inflict pain on yourself just to attempt to heal the wound.” Joshua frowned at your statement and you cleared your throat. “You said you need my help? Didn't your friends try to kill me 2 years ago?” You asked and he sighed. 

“I know this isn't how I wanted us to reconnect. But just listen for a second.” His eyes held nothing but hope, wanting you to hear him out at least. 

“If I don't? Your friend over there is going to play a bad vampire cop? What's his name again? Hoshi? Yeah, not interested.” You moved to get up before Joshua reached to grab your wrist softly. He held no intent to hurt you and you could tell by how gentle he was. His eyes stayed trained on the table as he closed them for a split second. “Please?” 

The plea left his lips softly and you knew you couldn't just walk away, leaning back in your chair. He gave a small smile as he clasped his hands together over your own. “Our leader has fallen ill. He refuses to let any of us help him. I know this won't be easy, but I'm asking if you'll take a look at him. Just to see if he'll be alright.” Your lips went into a line and your eyes flickered to the door where Hoshi stood with his hands in his pockets. 

“And if I don't?” 

“Then we take you by force. Unfortunately you seem to be the only one who can help him. I'm not letting that chance get away from us.” Hoshi stated as he was now next to you. You looked over at Rayven who was staring with concern in her eyes. “You really aren't in the best place to be threatening me. If I'm hearing you right, you need my help.” Joshua gave Hoshi a glare before the man cursed under his breath and walked away to another table.

“Y/N I know this is a lot to ask of you. But…”

“I know Joshua.” You cut him off and he bowed his head. “Come on, don't do that, I'll help you. On one condition. Kim Mingyu stays the fuck away from me. We already have issues.” You pointed a finger at Joshua who in turn chuckled at your condition. You gave a small smile as your eyes flickered over to Rayven who was now chatting it up with a man wearing a dark hoodie and a mask. “He with you?”

“Oh yeah. That's Jihoon. Seems he really likes her company.” Joshua said to you and you raised an eyebrow. Rayven caught your gaze as a slight blush made its way to her features. “You really planned to drag me by my hair kicking and screaming? You brought those two?” He gave a short shrug and you sighed, rubbing a hand down your face.

You remained silent for a couple minutes and Joshua grew worried. You could change your mind and say no, go on with your life. His coven wasn't exactly fond of you in the start. Hell, they almost killed you. Which is why he was surprised when you asked, “When do we leave?” It didn't take long for you to get a list of the leader's symptoms. You had all the necessary tools to help as best as you could. You collected your thoughts as the van drove past a bunch of high end buildings and you had to remember that they are still idols. Coming to a stop you jumped out to look at the tall building. 

“Thank you for this.” Joshua softly spoke and you nodded as he and Jihoon led you inside, letting the staff know you were off limits. Hoshi refused to speak to you, though you could see the appreciation in his eyes. You followed the three inside and the silent elevator ride up was deafening. No one muttered a word and Jihoon reluctantly cleared his throat, breaking you from your thoughts. “He's been really weak for the past couple of days. Claims we shouldn't worry but we can't help it.” You listened to him speak and could tell they all deeply cared about their leader. When the elevator doors opened you were greeted by chaos as the other members ran around in a panic catching you off guard. 

“What happened? What's going on?” Joshua questioned with urgency, eyes wide scanning the room for their leader. 

“Seungcheol hyung collapsed a couple of minutes ago. We don't know….” Mingyu halted his statement as he looked over at you and narrowed his eyes. “The fuck is she doing here?” He made a move to close the distance but Hoshi pushed a hand into his chest. 

“Don't.” The word held a bit of malice as the elder didn't want his younger coven member to ruin any chance their leader could be healed. “Just take us to him.” He said nothing else but rolled his eyes as he led the way through the dorm. You entered the room and your eyes fell on the body lying on the floor. They all huddled around him and you pushed your way through. 

“Move.” You said kneeling down beside the man slipping in and out of consciousness. “Hey, can you hear me?” His head tilted in the direction of your voice but his eyes remained closed. “My head is on fire.” His words were slurred and you held a hand over his eyes, palms glowing purple. 

“He was fine a minute ago. He just fell and none of us know what to do.” A quivering voice said and you looked over at the group's youngest. “How long has he been sick, exactly?”

“It's been 4 weeks.” Another voice answered and you saw Jeonghan move to the other side of his friend. You noticed a dark line peeking from the collar of his shirt and frowned. You brought a hand up to his neck and a voice cut through your concentration. “What are you doing?” You ignored the question and went to pull his shirt up to his collarbone. Over his heart was a large purple bruise, any nearby veins were of the same dark hue and you gasped. The leader squeezed his eyes shut as you watched the area expand. 

“This is…”

“What's happening to him Y/N?”

“He's been poisoned. With a very aggressive mixture. The purple color means whatever it is, it's laced with pure silver.” You quickly answered as you went through your bag, none of the tools you brought would do what you needed. “You know someone who'd want to hurt him?”

“No one comes to mind.” Joshua answered and you took a deep breath. You knew how to properly drain the poison but you also knew they'd have your head for hurting their leader. 

“I can drain it to give him some relief but I need a knife.” They all stared at you with confusion and anger as you spoke. The room erupted in overlapping questions and concerns as you rubbed your temple.

“A knife?! You're going to cut him!?”

“Absolutely NOT!”

“We're not going to let you hurt him!”

“Hell no! You are going to kill him! I knew we couldn't trust a witch!”

“Would all of you shut up! If you don't want my help, I can leave right now and let you all figure this out on your own! But considering how long this has been going on plus the fact that none of you can even get close to this stuff, he will die in a couple of days.” The room went silent and you continued, clenching your jaw in the process. “I can walk away! You want to spend his last days singing kumbaya be my fucking guest.” You screamed before taking a breath. “If I wanted him dead, the poison would do that for me! I wouldn't even have to lift a finger. Now either you get me what I need or he continues to suffer.” No one dared say anything else until the one I recognized as Vernon, stood to his feet and walked to the kitchen. When he came back he sat a couple of different knives next to you. “I didn't know what size you needed so I brought options.” You nodded as you grabbed a smaller knife. 

“Everyone back away. This stuff can be lethal to vampires.” They all scurried a short distance away except the blonde. 

“You got experience with silver?” He gave a small nod before you sighed. “Jeonghan right?” He shook his head and you took a deep breath. “Then you’ll help me with this. It will get a bit messy.” You started and he nodded ready to do anything you told him. “Hold your hands right here and when I say apply pressure, squeeze around the area. Just don't let it get on you.” You brought the tip of the blade down on his skin and slowly made a deep enough cut so the poison could leak out onto the floor. “Now.” Jeonghan squeezed the area down and Seungcheol started to thrash. 

“Hold him!” Joshua moved to hold down his arms as you made another incision. “Squeeze.” You repeated the process a couple more times till the poison had pooled under his arm on the floor. “Can I have a couple of towels? Make sure to wet one of them.” You managed to get some of the poison in a small jar you brought with you before soaking up the rest and cleaning him off. You instructed the boys to carry him to bed while you put the poison and blood soaked towel in a bag. “I'm headed down to burn this. Probably best it isn't in the dorm.” Joshua followed close behind and you finally let out the sigh you were holding when the elevator doors closed. 

“You okay?” You just nodded as the two of you went outside not speaking a word. You easily set the bag on fire as you tossed it in the disposal. Watching the flames in silence you didn't even notice Joshua appear next to you. He looked over at you and you sighed. “What?”

“Thank you. From all of us.” You scoffed as you shook your head. 

“All of you? Your boys were ready to rip my head off when I asked for a knife.” A soft chuckle slipped past your lips, your gaze flickering to the blonde. Jeonghan's dark eyes staring into the burning flame.

“They aren't the best at being open. Especially towards witches. One too many bad experiences.” Jeonghan stated as he walked closer to where you stood. “We got him in bed and he's resting now. You have no idea how thankful I am. We all are. None of us would've known what to do.” You remained silent as you listened to the fire crack and he took that as a chance to continue talking. “I would be in your debt if you stay. Help us look after him for a day or two. Just to make sure he'll be okay. Unfortunately the only one who knows any real information about silver is Wonwoo but he's out for the next couple of days.”

“I guess that can be arranged. Since it is still in his bloodstream and he could pass out a few times if we’re not careful. I'd say with two days of fluids and my healing hands, he'll be fine.” You stated and the blonde smiled before the three of you went back inside. When you arrived back in the dorm the boys were lined up with their heads bowed, mumbling thank yous and apologies. 

You can't lie, it left you with a bit of pride. Proving them wrong. They had even set up a small station in the corner of Seungcheol's room for you. The coven leader breathing softly as you grabbed some gauze to clean the incisions. You put rubbing alcohol on the swab before carefully removing the towel to get a better look. After cleaning the wound you held your hand over his chest and let your magic pour from your palm just as Lillian taught you. As the wound sealed shut his hand shot out to grab your wrist, causing you to jump. His eyes struggled to stay open and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Can I have my hand back?”

“The fuck are you doing here?” He asked with a frown and you shrugged.

“Your coven came to me for help. When I got here you were passed out on the floor.” 

He didn't say anything but reluctantly released his grip on your wrist. You rubbed the area before taking out a few herbs and medicine for him to take. “You'll have to take these for the next few days. Just to ensure the effects of the poison completely wear off.”

“How do I know that stuff won't finish the job?”

“Like I told your boys, if I wanted you dead, the poison would've done that for me.” You replied walking to the door. “Get some rest.” Surprisingly within minutes he'd fallen back asleep. You ventured out into Joshua's room and sat at a nearby desk. You don't even know when your own eyes fluttered closed. You were just so fucking tired.

“Y/N. Do you believe in monsters?” Your grandmother's question caught you off guard but in the mind of a 9 year old, that question will soon be forgotten. 

“Monsters? Like on tv?”

“Yes. Like werewolves and vampires.”

“Those aren't real nana. They're just on tv and in movies.” You retorted going back to coloring the page in front of you. 

“What if I told you they were indeed real?”

Your head snapped up and you looked around the room to see you were alone. You let out a sigh as the door slowly opened, revealing Joshua. “Hey, just checking in on you. Seungcheol is still asleep. You alright?” 

“Yeah. What time is it?” You asked and he looked at his wrist. 

“11:46. Almost midnight.”

“I probably should go check up on Seungcheol.” You stood to your feet, letting them carry you back to Seungcheol's room. 

Your things were still on the table and he was asleep. “He actually took the medicine you brought. Mingyu kept whining about how it could be dangerous but Seungcheol said he trusted that it wasn't.” He looked over at you as you rubbed your face. “You okay?”

“Yeah I'm fine but it's just……is there anywhere else I can crash? Jeonghan mentioned the guys don't like witches and I'd rather not be next to a disoriented vampire when he wakes up again.” You chuckled, not mentioning the conversation you shared with their leader and Joshua nodded his head. “Yeah….bad idea. You can bunk with me.” You gathered your things, leaving the leader alone and followed Joshua down the hall. Mingyu stood in his own doorway with a scowl. 

“You're seriously letting her stay with you?” Seungkwan questioned as he passed by.

“I don't want to hear you say anything when she tries to kill ya.” Mingyu added with a smirk.

“Shut up Mingyu.” Joshua retorted, pulling you behind him. Mingyu scoffed while pushing his body off the wall slowly approaching his coven mate with Seungkwan watching from his door.

“Or what? Your witch will make my lips disappear? She is playing us. If anything happens to Seungcheol hyung, I will not hesitate.”

“Yeah well neither will I. I am more than capable of taking you out on my own. Better than I could’ve two years ago.” The words dripped with venom as you stared up at the man. “Your threats mean jack shit to me. You wanted my help, I’m helping him. But you will respect me from here on out. His life is in my hands.” You sneered as you continued on to Joshua's room. Leaving the three of them speechless. You tossed your things onto the floor and slid down the wall with a sigh. Josh entered a couple of minutes after and sat down on his bed. 

“I offer an empty bed and you choose to sit on the floor?” He laughed and you scoffed. “I'm sorry about them.”

“It's fine. They have a right to be concerned. I will, however, defend myself.” You told him as he shuffled around to gather blankets for you. 

“You won't purposely let anything happen to him…..right?”

“Of course not. I said I'd help you out. I said what I said just to get them off my back.” You reassured him as someone softly knocked on the door. You looked up and saw the youngest member poke his head in with a smile adoring his features. “Hi! I'm Chan but everyone calls me Dino.” 

“Someone besides Joshua is actually being nice to me? Wow who would've thought?”

“Figured I'd show you respect since you're helping hyung recover.” He bowed and you gave him a short nod. “So when do you think he'll get better? Anytime soon. I'm sure you'd know out of everyone.”

“Honestly it's up to him. He should wake up no problem once his body gets used to the medicine. Unfortunately it will feel like waking up from surgery everytime.” You told him with a smile and the boy took a deep breath. “Okay that's good to hear. But anyway if you need anything I'll be around!” He waves goodbye as he disappears into the hall without another word. 

“He's a ray of sunshine.”

“Somebody has to be.” Joshua replied as he tossed you a pillow. “Rest up. I see to it that you have breakfast in the morning.” He shut off the light and you plugged in your phone before falling back onto the mattress you were offered. Sleep was quick to take over as you were out within a couple of minutes, finally getting a bit of rest.

[serafilms]

song 17! cupid (fifty fifty) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)

i’m feeling lonely, oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me, now i’m crying in my room, so skeptical of love, but still i want it more, more, more

You’ve reached a certain point where you think you’re going to die alone. Call it the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia, being surrounded by happy couples syndrome, or whatever you want, but none of it excuses the fact that in all your years of life, hardly anyone has even glanced your way.

Perhaps you’re just blind to their stares, like how pigeons can only see out the sides of their heads, but never what’s sitting right in front of them.

“Or maybe I’m just a loser,” you mutter under your breath.

You slam your book shut, having spent the last 10 minutes reading and rereading the same line without absorbing it, as your mind was preoccupied with wallowing in your misery.

Distractions are no help. There is quite literally nothing for you to do now except lie down and accept your fate. And maybe get some sleep.

Standing from your desk, you look around and take a moment to open the window.

Cold, fresh air.

Then, you take a step towards your bed and collapse face first into the pillow, letting out an agonising groan that comes out muffled.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.”

The first reaction you have upon hearing the voice is to scramble up and promptly fall on the floor. Rubbing your bruised tailbone, you stare incredulously at the open window, where there is a guy dressed up in a weird, red getup with a cape and a mask over his eyes.

“Red Robin?”

He grins at you as he slips through the window and looks around your room, wasting no time in going to your shelf to snoop through your things.

“That’s me," Red Robin replies, tilting his head at a picture frame. You leap out of bed at record speed to snatch it out of his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Clutching it protectively to your chest, you shoot him an incredulous look then glance down at the picture. It's one of you and your friend, Tim, at your high school graduation. You set it down on your bedside table quickly, and cross your arms as you turn to glare at the vigilante in your room.

"What are you doing here?"

He glances away from your shelf for a moment, taking in the way that you've awkwardly shuffled to the edge of your bed away from him, then shrugs. "Just stopping by for a visit."

Brows knitting together, you frown. "Okay, let me rephrase. Why are you in my room?"

Red Robin pauses, his eyes flitting towards the picture frame you've set aside.

It's been silent for a little too long now, so you speak up again. "Like, is this some kind of interrogation? Because I swear, whatever crime you think I'm involved in, I don't know anything about it. Unless it's about my chem prof cooking meth. But even then! All I know is rumours!"

He looks at you, amused, and you feel fear building up in your stomach. Is this some sort of technique? You did see a video about how the best way to get someone to tell you a secret is to stay silent and wait for them to spill. You suppose you've just given him exactly what he wants.

Red Robin takes a step towards you and you stumble back into your bedside table.

"This isn't an interrogation," he chuckles, "I'm just checking in.”

Why would he check in on you, of all the people in Gotham?

You sniff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

You can’t see his eyes or eyebrows under the mask, but you assume they’re raised in skepticism.

“I heard you groaning from outside, you know.”

Dead silence. Your neck heats up.

“Oh, right … that …”

The vigilante says nothing; he just watches as you dart your eyes around the room, looking at anything but him.

You feel the need to say more and fill the silence. “Yeah, uh, I was just … having a moment.” He stares at you. “Loneliness. Relationship troubles.”

Damn it, now he’s using that tactic on you.

Red Robin clears his throat. “Ah, I see.”

Do your eyes deceive you or is he blushing?

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. Um.” He starts to back up a little, eyes flitting between you and the space behind you. “Well, you know, it’ll get better. You’ll find someone. Uh, I should probably get back to patrol.”

The vibe just got really weird, you think.

You watch in confusion as he takes tiny steps backward towards the window. He tosses a red business card towards you that lands somewhere halfway in between. “Well, shoot me a text later and I’ll try and help with that. It’s my duty as a hero, you know, haha.”

You blink. “Okay?”

He’s halfway out the window when he looks back and clears his throat. “Sometimes, the right person might be right under your nose. Or behind you.” He gestures vaguely behind you and makes a quick exit.

You’re not quite able to process what just happened. Behind you? Turning around, your eyes focus on the picture. The one of you and Tim. You frown. The right person. What was he on about?

You place the picture down and snatch up the business card instead. There’s a picture of his symbol in the centre, and a mobile number on the back. Maybe you’d have to text him and ask.

[newtthetranswriter]

Music can be relaxing... most of the time

Word Count: 1122

Paring: Kuroo x gn! Reader (it’s not super important part of the fic just felt like adding it)

Summary: The bus ride to the summer training camp was more chaotic knowing that Karasuno was going to be joining this year. After Kuroo’s failings to calm everyone y/n has a genius idea, only for Lev to fuck it up with his choice of music

Warning: Cursing

A/n: All imma say is I said what I said. Feel free to take it up with management, oh wait I’m management. Anyway enjoy or don’t, but as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    It was finally time for the week-long summer training camp with the rest of the Fukurodani Academy group, so it was time for Nekoma’s volleyball team to begin the bus ride to Shinzen. Normally it was a quiet trip but with the excitement of Karasuno joining this year's camp, the boy’s had decided to goof off for the majority of the trip.

    There had been a few attempts from Kuroo to get the rambunctious group to sit down and shut up, but after being ignored every time, the captain gave up. Seeing their boyfriend’s annoyed face at their younger classmen’s energy, Y/n tried to think of a way to calm the group without and convince them to conserve their energy for the upcoming practice matches. Remembering that listening to music typically helps people relax, Y/n quickly pulled out their phone and set up a new Spotify playlist.

    After adding a few songs and putting in the description that each member of the team was to add three songs, Y/n sent a mass invite to boys. Upon hearing the chorus of phones buzzing and checking his own, Kuroo looked at Y/n slightly confused. “Why did you send a playlist in the team chat?” He asked, curious as to what their plan was.

   Looking around and seeing that the whole team had stopped goofing off and were all looking to their manager as if asking the same question. “Music can help people relax, so I figured if we all contributed a few songs to this playlist we could all listen to it and save our energy for the training camp.” They explained, earning a few nods and sounds of agreement. After about two minutes everyone made it known that they had made their contributions. Y/n then hooked their phone up to the small speaker Kenma had brought with him, and hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the bus fill the sounds of each player's favorite music.

   As time passed it was clear that Y/n’s plan had worked well. Half the team had passed out, while the other half were just scrolling on their phones quietly. Kuroo took a moment to lean closer to Y/n and whisper quietly to them. “Thank you, I thought I was gonna have to help Yaku hide Lev’s body for a moment there.”

   Y/n just chuckled. “No problem, it’s my job as your guys' manager to make sure no murders happen while traveling. Now you should—” Before Y/n could finish their next sentence a very familiar song started playing over the speaker, and it wasn’t one Y/n was fond of. “Ok who the hell put Taylor fucking Swift in the playlist?” Y/n had turned to look down the bus’s aisle to look at the group of boys.

   Everyone who was still awake remained silent before Kenma pointed at the lanky first year who was asleep against the window across from him. Almost as if sensing all eyes on him Lev jolted awake. “Why is everyone staring at me?” He asked groggily while looking around.

   The first to break the silence was Yaku. “You messed up big time buddy, I hope it was worth it.” The short third year said, patting Lev’s shoulder over the seat. Lev just looked at his upperclassmen confused. Figuring Lev was not going to figure it out on his own, Yaku pointed towards the front of the bus where Y/n was still leaning into the aisle. “You pissed off the manager.” It was a simple sentence but as soon as Lev made eye contact with Y/n, he understood how fucked he was.

   “But wait what did I do? I fell asleep after the music started.” He asked, hoping to find a way out of his impending doom.

   The people who had previously been asleep had also woken up as it was silent on the bus except for the sound of the bus moving. They were confused at first until they heard their normally calm manager let out an exasperated sigh, before speaking. “The number one rule for any playlist I have is absolutely no Taylor Swift. I will not budge on it ever, her music is trash and she is overrated. If you want to listen to her go ahead but it better be with headphones and I better not hear it.” Y/n explained, their voice sounded calm but the look in their eyes said on wrong move and Lev’s body would need to be hidden.

   “Okay but I thought she was like an Bi icon or something, and aren’t you also bi? I thought you would like her.” Lev clearly misread the look on Y/n’s face, and thought there was any room to argue.

   “Lev you are a newer member of the team but I kindly have to remind you never tell me that taylor fucking swift is bi icon again. That is one of the straightest cis women I have ever seen and any one who thinks otherwise needs their eyes checked. AND also I’m not bi, I’m queer which is different and if I was why would that mean I like her trashy music. She’s a sell out and the picture of capitalistic greed.” Y/n answered, before Lev had a chance to respond Y/n faced forward signaling the end of the discussion. 

   After taking a moment to process what was just said to him Lev looked to his teammates for anysort of clarification they could give him about what happened. “I know that look and the only answer is to never bring up Taylor Swift in Y/n’s presence again or they may actually kill you.” It was Yamamoto who answered Lev’s unspoken question.

   “Tora if I hear that name one more time I will not hesitate to shave off that stupidass mohawk.” Y/n said before starting the music again, having checked the playlist for any of the cursed music.

   Yamamoto just silently nodded before going back to looking at his phone. The rest of the team followed suit knowing that any further chaos would likely cause the Captain and Manager duo to actually murder the whole team before they even reached the training camp. Lev looked around one last time before figuring out what the rest of the team already knew, don’t piss off Y/n because they are scarier than Kuroo and Yaku combined.

   Kuroo on the other hand just chuckled to himself, placing a kiss on his partner’s forehead. “I thought you were supposed to prevent murders, not threaten to commit them.” He just received an eye roll as the two silently agreed to relax for the rest of the bus ride.

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 5)

5. I've found heaven in hell

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6

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

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

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol, angst, arguing, tension, tarot readings

Word count: 7,9 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I genuinely hope this chapter is as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm not so sure about it. I tried my best, but I'm certainly proud of the last scene of this chapter. Yes, we finally got to Baratie and Zoro's fight with Mihawk. I'd be very happy to hear your opinions, so let me know what you think <33 Not proofread yet.

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

One card fell from her tarot deck from the moment when she started shuffling it: Death.

Nope, she immediately thought to herself. 

The witch let out a theatrical sigh and let the cards back in their place, half of her mind completely ignoring the meaning. 

No way I'm occupying my mind with such trouble now of all times. I couldn't even sleep last night. 

She could think about that later, after she gets a few hours of peace. They were lucky enough to escape from the Marines just a while ago. The answer she received after she came back to her room at the first hours in the morning — when she had just finished her night shift — was ambiguous enough. All she wanted was to breathe some fresh air. 

The witch got up from the bed and was ready to leave the girls' room while pulling a large shirt over the tight tank top hugging her curves, leaving it unbuttoned. The hot weather made her choose some shorts in favor of the usually large pants she preferred. The low heels of her boots created a strong sound with each step on the Going Merry's floor. 

"I still can't believe Luffy was the one to get us at this floating restaurant in the middle of the sea using his nose only," she chuckled at the navigator. 

Nami was glancing one last time into a small rounded mirror she held between her fingers before closing it and shoving it into a bag. 

"Add food to the equation and he could take over my role."

"Well, well, that's quite exaggerated. He might have an affinity for sniffling foods, but you can feel a thunderstorm. That's a big difference," the witch winked. 

"You're flattering me," Nami grinned. 

The witch opened the door of their room and they were instantly greeted with the rays of the sun. She squinted her eyes and walked on the deck with two knives and a gun sitting at her hips. Luffy was already on the dock of the restaurant created in the form of fish with an open mouth. Baratie was written in red neon lights on top of the suspended balcony of the restaurant. 

"Do you think there are marines here?" Usopp asked as he leaned against the railing of The Going Merry. 

"There are skulls on the flags of other ships. If marines are here, they're probably not for business. I wouldn't start yelling about it in the middle of a place filled with pirates," the witch commented. 

Any other words died on top of her tongue when her eyes fell on the swordsman who just left the galley. Maybe the witch should've been more careful while staring so insistently, but gosh, wasn't he always a sight? The dark bluet-shirt clinging onto his chest for dear life, accentuating the muscle lines and — god fucking dammit — the jeans squeezing his legs made her gulp. The signature swords were secured against his left hip. 

She averted her eyes before she could get caught ogling at the crewmate she grew fond of. It was a pleasure to blame it on the doses of alcohol in her veins, but it wasn't the case that time. She was wide awake and sober, so the nature of her thoughts was worrisome, to say the least. 

She was still dealing with the possibility of feelings. A concerning topic for an inexperienced person in the domain of romance. 

Another trouble she didn't want to think of. Maybe Zoro isn't that wrong for drinking with every occasion he gets. 

What made it worse was the lack of attention he gave her, as if she was just a ghost. 

Maybe she was overthinking it. 

Truth be told, she wasn't exactly wrong. Zoro did intentionally look away so he could save himself from embarrassment. He turned away before he swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers curling tighter around the hilt of his sword. He must've gotten insane to start avoiding people. 

"Let's go! I feel like I could die from hunger," Luffy jumped from the ship straight on the dock. 

The witch found the right thing to focus on: the restaurant looked amazing. Not only did it smell so divine her stomach learnt how to talk, but it was also splendid. For a second, the witch wondered if that was a place for pirates and not for some rich business people — they could certainly be found there. Dozens of tables and the constant chattering of people, waiters and waitresses walking around and rushing from one side to the other — it was so lively. 

The fishman greeting the people coming in smiled warmly at them, even if a little strained — a habit he got from his job. 

"You mean there's no free table for our captain, the soon to become King of the Pirates?" Usopp smiled proudly, pointing at Luffy. 

She found it hard not to laugh or chuckle at the interaction between Luffy and the poor fishman who said twice already that there will be an available table in three weeks. When the witch saw Nami shove her hand in her pockets, it was obvious what tactic she'd use. Obviously, it worked, even if Luffy and Usopp were cheering, walking down the stairs ahead of them. 

The witch looked around, wary of any possible threats or drunk people who would get mad about the smallest thing, like the way they looked. Everyone seemed so caught up in their own thing and it eased her mind, some anxiety leaving once her shoulders fell. 

However, there were certain gazes following her silhouette. It was probably because of each confident step she made, the elegance she carried, the force she proved to have with every sharp glance she threw around. Her fingers twitched to grab a hold of her dagger. She figured out there were no imminent threats yet. 

At the table, she found herself between Zoro and Nami. She was conscious the moment she intentionally sat a tad bit closer to the swordsman who comfortably spread his legs after he tried to fit his swords. Sometimes, when she'd shift in her seat, his knee would brush by hers and goosebumps would erupt on her skin. She allowed herself to enjoy the proximity, the way her gaze would linger on his figure when he talked, the low timbre of his voice soothing her soul. 

She had to get used to that idea. 

It ached. Her heart would thump painfully in between her ribs each time it felt like he was ignoring her. He didn't say much to her since morning and something inside of her was bleeding, despite the lack of crimson liquid tainting her clothes. 

The witch hated him for every cold glance thrown her away or, worse, each time he didn't even look at her when she spoke. To protect herself, her lips got sealed for a long while. 

Her attention was piqued by the fight between two marines who seemed unable to swallow up their pride, threatening each other with death, while a beautiful lady sat at the table, looking at them with fear visible on her expression. 

The roll of her eyes and the exasperated exhale she let out spoke for her as the witch rested her elbows on the table and held her face with a hand. 

"Do people always act like that over stupid things?" Usopp frowned. 

"They act worse," the witch scoffed, amused. "The average pirates aren't any better either, you know."

"Bold of you to say that when you're a pirate yourself," Nami shook her head. 

"I've never claimed I'm a lady, so," she shrugged. 

A waiter with blonde hair dressed in a clean black suit appeared by the men's table. There was a specific customer-friendly smile plastered on his face while he tried to calm the waters. 

One of the two men pulled his pistol out just to have his arm being hit by the waiter's feet. In a few seconds only, the other man received the same treatment, getting a strong blow right in the stomach. The blonde waiter rolled on his feet and right after his feet collided with the man's face, he prompted his hands on the table to pin the other pink-haired marine to the floor with a kick in the crown of his head. 

"Good fighter," Luffy pointed out with excitement bouncing in his tone. 

As if nothing ever happened, the man's fingers grabbed at the plate he abandoned on the table and smiled again. 

"No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals." 

A normal occurrence, most probably. 

The waiter came to their table with a few long steps. From up close, his handsome features washed away the obvious forced smile plastered on his thin lips. 

"Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" 

His voice was tinted with harshness and he was definitely in a bad mood, visible despite the professionalism he tried to stick to. 

Luffy grabbed one of the small loaves of breasla on the plate the waiter just placed down in front of them. 

"One of everything, please," their captain spoke with his mouth stuffed. 

"What's wrong with the ambiance?" the witch asked, confused. "Not to flatter, but this place is splendid." 

Something in that man's head misunderstood it as you're splendid, apparently, since his eyes shone like crystals when they settled on the witch's figure. 

Maybe her mouth spoke before she had time to think it over. Bad decision. 

"It became splendid the moment you walked in, perhaps," he smiled effortlessly, his voice dropping an octave. 

Wait… what?

"Thank you?" she blinked owlishly. 

It sounded more like a question. Not the first compliment she received and she also had to admit that most of the men who flirted with her were absolutely gross. This one was decent, even polite — hell, someone could've taken courtesy lessons from him. 

The energy shifted. Or, better said, the man next to her shifted. Zoro just crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Sanji with a glare meant to send daggers through his face. The waiter didn't even bother to look at Zoro. 

"Is there anything I could bring for these two beautiful ladies?" his smile widened visibly once he spotted Nami right next to the witch. "Would you care for an apéritif to start? Or perhaps some drinks, like one of our signature cocktails? Maybe a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet for someone sweet."

His wink was flawless and it would've been perfect if not for Nami's retort. 

"Something wrong with your eye?"

Nami was frowning, taken aback by the comment and equally amused. 

"Very good question," the witch nodded. 

Nami tried her best to stifle a laugh when she realized she was backed up. Usopp was hardly holding back his laughter

"Forgive a man for being blinded by such beautiful ladies," he grinned as if he'd fallen in love not once, but twice in the same minute. "So?"

"Water, please," Nami answered. 

"Still, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?" 

"Regular water in a regular glass. Thanks." 

"A beer for me."

Zoro's voice was threatening and low, sharp gaze still focused on Sanji. 

"A beer for me. I usually have two, but…" Usopp didn't have enough time to continue as he's been interrupted by Luffy. 

"A glass of milk for milk for me!" the straw hat said with his mouth still stuffed with bread. 

Sanji's head turned towards the witch with a smile curling his lips. 

"One of the special cocktails you mentioned, please."

The witch didn't intentionally use that kind voice. It was a habit whenever she talked to strangers to soften her tone and smile out of courtesy and politeness. Probably, her kind gesture has been misunderstood as flirtatious. 

"Any preferences? We have plenty of options you can choose from." 

His smile already reached his ears and she could feel a specific swordsman straightening his back by her side. 

"Nothing too strong, if you may." 

"Of course." 

"Are you done yet?" 

Zoro made all of them turn their attention to him and while usually he wouldn't like it, at that time he couldn't give a single fuck about it. All he did was arch his eyebrow at the waiter and telling him to fuck off as politely as he could, with no cuss words falling from his mouth yet. If Sanji continued to gravitate around their table with that flirtatious smile on his lips, the swordsman might burst a vein on his forehead sooner rather than later. 

Sanji wasn't exactly satisfied to be rushed, but he turned on his heels and left. The witch was still looking at Zoro from the corner of her eye, trying her best to understand what just happened. 

He seemed fine minutes ago. Not too talkative, definitely, but not… so mad either. What has been with that scowl on his face ever since Sanji appeared? He couldn't be enough of a man child to be jealous of someone's flirting—

I'm getting delusional lately, the witch cut off her own thought process. 

"Mad about something, Zoro?" Nami smirked devilishly. 

"Everything's fine." 

Everything was, in fact, not fine. 

The witch was engulfed by her thoughts, fingers pressing and rolling the fork between her fingers after their food was served. She had to admit she was hungry and was trying her best to savor the pieces of meat tickling her taste buds, but it was almost impossible to ignore the shallow sensation in her stomach. 

"Was there anything wrong with your tarot?" 

Nami, who was by her side, turned her head and offered the witch her entire attention. Maybe she's been playing with her food for long enough to get their attention. 

"Not wrong, just something I would've rather not know," she said after swallowing. 

"What did you see?" 

She shook her head softly with a light chuckle leaving her lips. 

"I pulled the Death card." Quickly enough, she realized she shouldn't have started with that. 

"Who's dying?!" Usopp almost choked on his food. 

"It's metaphorical death," she clarified. "The ending of a cycle and a new beginning, whatever that might mean this time," with a shrug, she proved her own uncertainty. 

"Doesn't sound that bad," Zoro commented while he curled his fingers around his glass of beer. 

The young woman still remembered each element of the first tarot card she saw before they left The Going Merry. The skeleton dressed in silver armor on the white horse, holding a flag with the number 'XIII' and the people kneeling in front of it, their clothes painted in golden, blue and white. 

"It usually implies a hard step to take in order to advance. Change doesn't come unless you allow it and transformation is supposed to help you evolve, not regress. Each time, it doesn't come easily and it shakes up your reality first. Simply put, who the heck knows what might happen in the next few days," she clicked her tongue. "Anything is possible."

"What use do those readings have if you can't even find out what's really going on?" Nami arched her eyebrow. 

Fate spoke for itself. 

The witch's eyes fixed on hers, regret hanging around her heart. 

"They give enough clues, I just have to figure them out."

She felt bad for keeping to herself the other two cards she pulled: the ten of swords and the four of pentacles — betrayal reasoned by protecting yourself. The witch knew who this was about and she didn't mutter a word about it, finding it improper to do so. 

"And did you?" 

"Not entirely yet," she bit at her bottom lip. 

She knew her words were probably just passing by the ears of her friends. The witch was well aware they had no reason to believe in such things or listen to her. They could take her words into account or completely ignore them; it didn't really matter, as for her the reality remained the same. 

What mattered was that she knew only half of the upcoming events. The other side was hidden somewhere in shadows and life lessons the cards decided she had to learn on her own. 

"I won't need food for a year," Nami commented after she leaned back against the cushions, sighing. 

"We should do a toast. Come on, grab your glasses." 

The witch's fingers curled around her glass of cocktail with a soft smile. 

"To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory!" 

"No, I'm sorry," Nami furrowed her eyebrows. "What victory exactly?"

The witch didn't even get to bring the glass to her lips, Nami's question sinking deeply into her bones. 

"I don't know how many naval battles you guys have been part of…" 

"Two dozen, at least," Usopp interrupted her before taking one more sip from his beer. 

"Plenty," the witch placed her untouched glass back on the table. "It was a disaster, I'm well aware of it. We could've died before reaching a day of sailing with The Going Merry." 

"Then I suppose you agree we were unprepared and uncoordinated," Nami turned towards her. 

There's never been such tension lingering around the navigator since the witch got to know her. The orange haired woman was easy going and talkative, she was skilled and was so strong. Someone used to the harsh world they lived in and yet she seemed absolutely stupefied by the mention of said victory. 

Nami was tense and uncomfortable as she continued to shift in her seat, surprised wide eyes glaring at Luffy. 

"You didn't think to mention your grandfather was a Marine? And not just any marine, a vice-admiral! I don't know about you, but I didn't sign up for that." 

"You raided a marine base," Zoro spoke calmly. "Of course that'll make you a target." 

The witch only let out a soft sigh and straightened her back with a frown. She was equally worried, but… 

"I understand where you're coming from, Nami, but it wouldn't have helped us with anything to know about Luffy's relatives or their status. We're already haunted for merely having a map in our possession."

At their table Sanji appeared again, with a gray plate with a paper in between his fingers this time.

"Your bill, sir."

Luffy pulled his lips together and glanced at Nami before taking the pen and scribbling something. 

"Thank you," he smiled up at the waiter. 

Sanji took the plate and almost instantly, a mischievous grin splayed on his face. 

"No, thank you," and with that, he walked away. 

Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Luffy turned towards his friends once again, confident in his opinion. 

"I'm not saying it's good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can't just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything." 

The witch gently smiled at him and leaned her elbows on the table again. 

"We could use your optimism, Luffy, but it's harder than that. At any given time from now on, the simple fact that we're after One Piece is enough of a reason for a Warlord to come after us because right now, we're an easy target. Not to mention the relationship between the Marines and the Warlords. Remember that these seven pirates aren't anyone's toys and if we ever encounter them, it will not always have something to do with the Navy."

"What makes you talk about the Warlords?" the navigator gulped. "They'd be an ever bigger pain in our asses. Average pirates are merciless already—"

Nami stopped herself from talking and looked away. An unusual reaction met with silence from the witch.

"Luffy isn't the only one with relatives—"

"Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?" a hoarse voice boomed. 

The witch could feel a headache appearing along with the old chef who was hobbling because of his wooden leg. She finally gulped the entire cocktail. 

Why was Luffy always getting into trouble? 

"I need a drink," Nami exhaustedly threw her head back. 

"I need dozens of drinks," the witch sighed heavily. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Maybe it wasn't a camaraderie thing to do to their captain, but they were now occupying some seats on the terrace of the open fish mouth. The witch was in between Nami and Usopp on the large couch, with their backs facing the sea, meanwhile Zoro sat on a chair, at the other side of the table. 

The witch had a whiskey bottle from which she poured herself shots once in a few minutes. Usopp had three straws in his mouth and he drank a sweet cocktail from a bowl. Zoro warned him with a chuckle, but he didn't listen. 

Nami, on the other side, was silent as she stared into her empty glass for longer than expected. The witch found it worrisome — she was used to her own phases, but it hurt to watch her friend struggle with something she didn't entirely share. Nami's issue was known by them and yet there was something the witch just grasped onto, a tale told by her tarot. 

"The next drink is on me," the navigator got up from her seat. 

"Nami," the witch's fingers curled around her friend's. 

She squeezed Nami's hand gently and looked up at her with concern in her eyes. The witch rubbed her fingers over her knuckles in a silent plea, her eyebrows knitted together.

You're not alone, her touch said. It's alright. We can make it alright. 

Nami swallowed down hard and barely squeezed the hand who held her before slipping away from them. 

The witch poured herself a shot and gulped it down quickly. 

"Why are you in such a hurry as well?" 

Zoro's voice made her chest burn worse than the alcohol. 

"I'm not going anywhere. I'd just rather not talk," she mumbled as she rolled the small glass between her fingers. 

"You know something that I don't," he concluded quickly. 

Usopp, who sat like an obedient child and listened, blinked curiously. 

"I know a lot of things that you don't, Zoro," she responded with sorrow. 

Saying one single word about Nami while she was gone felt unfair. 

When the orange haired woman came back to them with a bottle in her hand, her conversation with Zoro somehow turned into a guessing game. Usopp, who obviously didn't take the swordsman's warning into account, went to the dance ring and moved like a sea slug — or that's what Zoro said. 

"Are you in?" Nami asked. 

"I'd rather not," the witch lowered her gaze. 

It was easy to admit she didn't want to share anything about herself. Still, she knew better than that; with some shots, her tongue would loosen up bit by bit. 

Her eyelashes fluttered lazily and her gaze fell on the glass she held. The corners of her mouth were slightly curled downwards and she seemed aware of the effect alcohol would have on her. She will succumb into sorrow or happiness, depending on which one clouded her mind first. The lack of answers coming from someone who adored to share experiences and explain was strange. 

Nami looked at her from the corner of her eye and accepted the situation as it was. She'll get the witch to talk one way or another. Something was fishy about her behavior — it was poking Nami's senses. 

The witch leaned against the cushions and turned her head towards the sea, pushing reality out of her awareness. Zoro's and Nami's conversation sounded muffled from her perspective, caging herself willingly in her head. 

Zoro was sitting right in front of her and the witch still thought of him. Her feelings were confusing and analyzing them was a full time job. Maybe it was time for her to accept her situation and deal with the heart aching for him. It was impossible not to think of him, especially when his deep voice sounded like a melody. 

She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked away the overwhelming sensation settling in her chest. Maybe the present could give her peace. 

"You're unfair, Roronoa," she crooked a teasing grin and turned her head towards him. 

"How's that so?" 

His gaze burning holes into her shouldn't affect her as much as it did. Those black oceans shining shamelessly told her everything she had to know, it made hope bloom in the center of her soul. 

Maybe there was a chance. A tiny little chance hidden in his mesmerizing eyes. 

"She's telling you entire stories, but you don't even bother to elaborate."

He clenched his jaw and scoffed. 

"That's not part of the game," the side of his mouth curled upwards. 

"Now that I think about it, she's right," Nami smirked. 

"Just drink."

With that, they raised their glasses and both glanced at the unusually silent witch. 

"I didn't play the game," she excused herself. 

"That's why you have to drink. You listened and didn't share," Nami arched her eyebrow. "Are you also unfair, Witch?" 

It was Zoro the one who poured whiskey in her empty glass. 

"You two are so sneaky," the witch laughed softly and complied. 

The alcohol burnt her throat and it was the alcohol getting to her head that brought questionable curiosities in her head… How would his lips taste? Would he make her burn harder? A one single touch from him would both ruin and put her back together. 

Alright, I have to find something else to think of. 

Hastily, the witch who sat by Nami's side gulped down another shot of whiskey and got up from the cushions. An idea creeped in her mind when her attention fell on the group of four musicians whose music Usopp danced to. 

"Where are you heading to?"

"Killing some time," she winked at Nami. 

With light steps, she walked to the guitarist and asked for his instrument after he just finished playing. With a nod, he handed her the guitar and she grabbed a chair to sit on. Her legs crossed and she positioned the guitar in her lap easily, like second nature. Gentle fingers tapped the wooden object and her lips curled — it was perfect — before her grip on the neck of the guitar tightened. Her other hand was busy testing the chords, tingles running down her spine at the sensation. 

She hasn't felt that in too long. 

The alcohol was also a reason for her bold action, but the witch didn't care. The fingers of one hand pressed against the strings, while she played with the other hand, giving life to the guitar. Lively sounds rang through the air and the other musicians quickly picked up on the notes. A classic, an old shanty pirates would sing when drunk after victories, but it was more beautiful when she played it. Even her humming and the rare times when her lips would part to let sweet words fall from between them, it was alluring. 

Zoro's attention never left her figure. Her eyes sparkled with freedom and the smile on her face was that of an angel. She was life itself, stuck under soft skin and hidden in her heart. The dim lights of the terrace — the open fish mouth — bathed her in white and warm gold. Her happy face, the smile lines, the crinkles of her eyes, the jovial energy surrounding her; all of these things charmed him over and over again. The longer he looked at her, the worse it got, because he didn't have the courage within himself to avert his gaze from her. 

"You should just admit it," Nami said. 

He didn't look at her when he let out a low "Hm?" 

"Don't you think she's pretty?" 

His head snapped towards her. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Which one of us are you trying to fool, Zorol; me or yourself?"

Uncomfortably, the swordsman shifted in his seat, clenching his jaw. 

"I think you're confused," he responded  with fake confidence while he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"No, you are confused," Nami scoffed. "You were jealous back then, when Sanji flirted with her."

"You're quick to jump to conclusions."

"If Usopp would be here, he'd agree."

"Unfortunately, he's too drunk to even walk straight, so I suppose he isn't here to support your theory." 

"Speaking of him."

Nami just spotted Usopp who came back to their table with a man behind him. A strange man, judging by the hilt of the sword as tall as him — and he wasn't short by any means either. 

"Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Zoro turned his head lazily, arching his eyebrow. 

"I don't recall such a name."

The witch's peace has been entirely destroyed by the new appearance, an unwelcome guest. She could spot him easily because of his big elegant hat with feathers and the sword with precious stones on the hilt. 

It was her turn to stand proudly in front of a Warlord she's only heard about from her deceased father. Her back was straight and her chin up high, gaze sharp. 

When the man turned his head to her, there was no mistake it was Dracule Mihawk, his golden irises shining with boredom. Even his perfect posture betrayed the obvious superiority he had in front of some mere children. 

"I didn't know your father had raised a liar. He was honest, from what I recall." 

The witch knew she was her father's splitting image, but how could he know— 

The only thing that stopped her eyes from widening in surprise were the nails digging painfully into her palms. 

"I don't know any Monkey D. Luffy and I certainly have no clue what you're talking about." 

"I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over." 

"I don't know either," Nami responded from her seat. "Right, Zoro?"

"You're Dracule Mihawk."

The swordsman got up from his chair and for a moment, the witch wondered if he was insane or more delusional than her, because there's no other way he stood without a worry in the world in front of him. 

In front of someone who could slice entire ships into pieces. 

"Zoro?" the witch whispered, horrified. 

The man in question stepped by Mihawk and walked slowly, steadily, as if the Warlord was his prey. 

"It pains me to inform you that tomorrow… you're going to die."

Oh, Gods, please don't. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was left speechless. She couldn't find strength in her legs and she had to sit on a chair when all of them gathered in the valley of their ship.

Zoro wasn't a sane man. He needed to be locked up or someone had to get that stick from up his ass before he had a chance to die out of stupidity. 

She shook her head countless times while Zoro and Nami argued, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips and squeezing her eyes shut. 

"Why do you even care?" the swordsman's cold tone rang in the air. 

"Because you're my friend, you idiot."

Nami sounded close to losing it all. 

The witch already lost it one hundred times. Her heart wasn't beating, her breath was shallow and she was pinching the bridge of her nose to hold back from saying or doing something rude, something she would later regret. The tension in the room weighed on her chest and she wished it was all just a nightmare. 

"You said you don't have any friends," Zoro responded sharply. 

The woman's eyes snapped open. He was more insane than she thought. She wanted to yell, but no raw sound filled with pain left her chapped lips. The witch could only remain rigid while Nami left the room with loud stomps. 

"You're insane, Zoro," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

The witch was tugging painfully at her own strands of her in order to stop the overwhelming feelings from spilling out of her like a tornado. Her shaking fingers curled into her hair and gripped, the burn on her scalp bringing her back to the cabin of their ship. 

"This is a suicide mission." 

"It's his dream," Luffy smiled, "we can't—"

"Zoro, you're gonna die!" she shouted out of the sudden after she snapped her head towards the swordsman. 

She sank her nails into her palms until the sting was painful enough to keep herself stable. It was not to her liking to be pessimistic, to admit that someone wasn't able to do something, but what he wanted to do was not the most intelligent idea. 

"This isn't good, this won't end well at all and you shall know it," the witch continued. "You can't seriously believe you'll get out of there better than half-alive."

The swordsman didn't need to respond in order to answer. His unmoving gaze and straightened back told enough: he wasn't going to change his mind at all, no matter what anyone said. 

She knew it meant a lot for him to become the strongest swordsman in the world, but in his current state he wasn't able to defeat Mihawk. Out of all the people he could've dwelt with, Zoro chose him, that monster of a man. 

"Did you not listen to me when I said 'He cuts entire ships with a mere flick of his wrist'?" she furrowed her eyebrows. "Did you suddenly forget when I clearly warned you all the warlords aren't some mere toys for the big guys in the system, they do whatever the fuck they want!" 

She cussed herself for letting out so many emotions, but she seriously couldn't hold back anymore, no matter how worried Usopp seemed, or how confused Luffy was. They had no clue what Zoro was getting into—

"That's exactly why I'm dwelling with him and not someone else," the green-haired man spoke firmly. 

"Oh, so your dream is to get cut in half by a sword taller than you?" her irritation slipped. 

"Do you really think I trained my entire life to get cut without putting up a fight?"

Even if she didn't want to admit it to herself, one side of his heart was hurt. This entire time, every time they spoke, she openly told him she believes in him, that she trusts him even if it would be her downfall. It sounded like she's been lying this entire time. 

"You know very well I never meant that you're weak, but you're not stronger than him! That's your idea of a swordsman? You can believe, you can even hope for the best to happen, but the happiest situation would be a quick death. And the worst? A torturous one." 

"I didn't take you for someone who wouldn't understand what the pride of dying in a duel means."

"Fucking hell!" 

The witch's tight fist hit the table placed in the middle of the cabin with a quick and hurried motion, her feelings indeed getting the best of her that time. It didn't come to mind the last time she ever acted so harshly. 

He turned her words against herself and he was a professional at doing so. She knew what kind of pride swordsmen and pirates carry, she knew what they considered noble because she's spent years of her life listening to men and women talking about such things. Her father did the same, thought he could get out of any problem, until it brought him his death. 

"Maybe you should have more faith," Usopp intervened in a small voice. 

He was hesitant, the surprise obvious on his face — none of them expected that their most collected crewmate would lash out like that. Luffy was also silent, confused, obviously trying to find a way to get into the thick heads of his friends somehow. The argument escalated quickly and the tension wiped away any ounce of peace. 

The witch's eyes were fixed on Zoro's and they burnt holes through his face. He's seen just as many emotions a night ago, when she told him about her past sailing experiences, about the life she left behind as she desperately tried to find freedom. And if freedom felt like that, he wondered if she really wanted it. He succumbed to the flames of hell in her eyes, but snapped himself out of it. 

She was angry at him, he figured out quickly. 

He didn't like that gaze. He'd do almost anything for her to stop looking at him that way, as if she wanted him away from her, as if his very presence brought her suffering. Almost anything. 

"You see just what you want to see, Zoro. You're deliberately ignoring our worries, thinking we have something against you, thinking god-knows-what about how we're not your friends or whatever the fuck's going through your head—"

I'm worried for you, she swallowed a lump in her throat. 

"Just because me and Nami are trying to stop you, it doesn't mean we're assholes keeping you away from your dream. We might be assholes, but we want you to be alive, not six feet under the ground!" her voice raised slightly at the end again, her breath shallow. 

"You're worried about her, not about me. I don't need your worry." 

"Zoro—" this time Luffy tried to intervene. 

"You're impossible," she faintly spoke, like a ghost. 

She gave up. 

She buried her face into her own palms and sat on a chair, her elbows prompted on her knees. She had so much faith in Zoro, she could barely even point out how many feelings swirl in her heart when it comes to him, but she was aware he was mortal. He could die at any given time. 

"Right, Zoro. Go die with pride filling you up the same way that man's sword will," she bitterly mumbled. 

I hate you, Roronoa Zoro. You and your stupid pride, along with the fucked way I feel about you. I hate it all. 

The poor woman was exhausted, her heartstrings twisting into knots, making it hard to ignore the pain running through her entire being. His name rolled on her tongue so many times in only a few minutes and it made her situation worse, that one word made of two syllables cutting through her chest. 

The witch regretted her words immediately, but didn't say anything for a while. 

Usopp nudged Luffy into leaving the other two alone and it was probably one of the few times when the straw hat understood subtleties without any questions. 

"Take your time and clean your swords, Zoro, we'll be waiting outside," Luffy spoke. 

The witch heard two pairs of steps that walked away, her face still buried in her palms. She gulped and took in a few deep breaths before she moved from her seat, straightening her back and moving to the window of the cabin, hands gripping at the edge of the wood. 

She didn't throw a glance at Zoro. Silence stretched between them while the witch focused on the stars shining in the night sky. 

I shouldn't have been here in the first place, she thought to herself, twisting the blade deeper into the wound. I shouldn't have accepted to come with you. I should've stayed in Syrup Village and left with another ship, to go somewhere far away from you. I should've known better that there's no way in hell I can grasp at the mere notion of freedom.

There's no place for me in heaven and there's no place for me in hell either. I'm stuck here, in this body, with these feelings and this swordsman in this galley. 

I should've known. I should've known I was damned to die on my feet, with a bleeding heart and my back turned at you. I should've—

She gulped down harshly, blinking away the tears. 

I want to stay with you all so badly. 

"Zoro," she whispered his name again. 

Tears stung in her eyes at the sound of his name. It felt like it was the last time she could hear his name repeatedly, the same name carved with silver on her heart. 

"Be careful," she continued, her voice faint. 

"Why do you care?" his bitter tone resounded in her eardrums. "Everyone seems deadly interested in my actions lately."

Only then she turned her head towards him and her ribcage protested when the prisoner that was her heart beat so harshly. 

"I don't need a reason. I simply do. Please, Zoro."

Like the idiot that she was, she begged him to stay alive. A confession was hidden between her chapped lips — she picked at them with her nails and there was blood surfacing on top of the skin. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, the metallic flavor tickling her taste buds. 

Judging on the way his jaw ticked with tension, he grasped onto enough of her words. Or maybe he refused to do so — who knows? 

"Don't throw your life away. You'll never fulfill your promise if you die today. Be mindful. Don't rush when fighting, don't get angry if he pushes on your buttons and irritates you. Be wise, Zoro."

It was a lost fight on her side. There was nothing she could do to stop him, so at least she had to give him the best advice she thought of. 

When he finally looked at her, her breath hitched. His brown eyes saw through her soul and she wondered if he could also feel how much she cared for him, the way she cared for him. She liked everyone on the ship equally, but her affection for him took a different path, one she's never walked on before. 

He didn't say a word, letting everything sink in. 

Maybe there is a chance he gets what I meant. 

"Be careful."

This time, her voice trembled but she didn't look away. She stood there, staring at him as if it was the last time she saw his eyes open. 

She turned towards the window again, nails digging into the wooden frame. She refused to look at him when she figured out tears could spill over her cheeks like a river if he continued staring at her, burying himself further into her soul. She only wanted him to be safe, because nothing was greater than that. If all of them could be kept away from harm's way, she would have days filled with peace.

Too bad such a thing was impossible in that unforgiving world. 

Behind her, Zoro moved around and left the galley. After a few minutes, he came back with a bottle of oil for his swords. He dragged a chair and sat down at the table, more silent than usually. With utmost care, he took one of his black swords and unsheathed it, leaving the scabbard on the table. He poured some oil on the blade and used a piece of cloth to spread it even from tip to hilt. 

The witch only dared to throw glances with an aching heart. She couldn't bring herself to leave, to stay away from him for too long now more than ever. She swallowed hard before making a tough decision. 

Wordlessly, she moved from the window. Her heavy steps echoed in the room until they stopped right by Zoro's side.

"Can I help?" 

Calm, just like she always tries to be, she spoke with fear clinging to every nerve in her body. She would blame herself for the rest of her life if they would part ways like that. More than her fears and worries, he mattered. He deserved all the pain she was capable of harboring inside her poor heart, he was worth the fight with her own self. 

The swordsman didn't expect her gesture. He supposed she would storm out of the room, that she would scold him or try to stop him, just like before. He guessed she was more sane than him, even if he couldn't bring himself to care enough about that. Her reaction pained him in ways he couldn't explain. 

His fingers pressed the piece of cloth against the blade of his words. He thought of being petty, shutting her down. Why couldn't she believe in him more? Was he that weak? 

He nodded. Like the stupid man that he was, with no need for spoken words, he accepted her help. He watched her blank face, devoid of any life, as she took another sword from the table, following his exact steps. 

Except, her hold on the white sword was gentle like a feather. A careful grip, so it wouldn't slip from her hand, but gentle nonetheless. He stopped whatever he was doing, focusing on the woman who rested her hips against the table, close to him, so close, but, oh, so far away. Zoro watched her unsheathe his Wado Ichimoji and place it on the table. Her hand reached out for the bottle of oil and her other one took advantage of the opportunity, taking the piece of cloth from his own hold. 

Their fingers touched. Hers were cold, but they still burnt his skin. Electric shocks traveled through his body and his chest tightened. 

She poured some oil on the material and then left the bottle on the table, gripping at the hilt of the sword again. She moved the piece of cloth over the blade carefully, as if she's done it before countless times. Left, right, left, right. Everytime she exhaled, her breath was trembling, despite the slow pace of her gestures. 

He paid more attention to the hands holding his sword: they were shaking when she placed the sword on the table. She poured some more oil on the cloth and dipped the tip of her index finger in the same spot. With the same finger, she drew on the blade a symbol Zoro didn't recognize.

With each stroke of her fingertip, she traced lines and connected them in a barely visible symbol: an arrow pointed upwards. 

"It's a rune meant for protection," she explained softly as she sheathed the sword. "It's associated with strength and honor. It doesn't matter if you don't believe in it, because I do and that's enough." 

It was true: he didn't believe in such things and never did. The swordsman never found it reasonable nor did he ever try to figure it out. It didn't mean he denied her beliefs — no, but he was indifferent towards it. 

However, he couldn't act indifferent towards the witch, which he found at that point to be straight up painful. It was painful to look at her and see torment in her deep eyes, it hurt to see sorrow painted on her angelic features when none of them was dead. 

The witch did the same gesture with the other two swords, carefully holding each one of them, as if they were her own treasures, not his. 

"Come back alive," she whispered. 

If he wouldn't have been so close to her, her voice would've sounded like a breath. 

"That's all I ask of you. If you wish so, then no sword will cut through you. Blades can cut steel, but nothing can cut will."

What was she mourning when she said those things? Who did she think of? he wondered. 

May the gods protect you tomorrow, she hoped. They've taken so many away from me along the way. 

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