#don't be frightened to display your talents

[navybrat817]

Hello Beautiful Navy ❤ I miss the tattoo boys. Always. Seeing as though Halloween is coming up, what do you think their plans would be with their girl? Would they stock up on candy because they secretly love the trick or treaters? Scary movies snuggled up on the couch? I can see the reader carving pumpkins to put outside their shop 😭 Would love to hear your thoughts 😘

Lau! AHH! I love this so much. ❤️ And all of the above!

Traditional

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Bucky and Steve spend Halloween with their best girl. Word Count: Over 860 Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, fluff, innuendos, very slight feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: I had to do something for our tattoo boys. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo ! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. Divider by the wonderful @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Your boys go all out for Halloween. It's one of their favorite holidays.

Bucky and Steve take a day to decorate the place, inside and out, and make sure to include items you used to set out at your old place. It's your home, too, so you get a final say in everything.

While the boys work on the house, Mandy and Natasha sit out back and help you decorate pumpkins for the shop. The boys were nice enough to take you to a farm not too far away to pick them out. 

You do a mix of carving and painting, making sure everyone has one. You don't want anyone to feel left out. 

You're thrilled with how well they turn out and Mandy shrieks with delight when you make her one, too.

Loki pretends he's unimpressed when you drop everything off at the shop, but he softly thanks you when he thinks no one is looking and puts it on display with the others.

Bucky tells you to close your eyes once you get home, going through the back like they ask, so they can surprise you with their hard work. Steve has a blindfold ready if you need it.

"Thought that was only for the bedroom," you tease.

"Don't tempt us," Bucky winks before you close your eyes, allowing them to each take an arm to lead you inside.

You're in awe as they take you through the place, which is completely transformed.

Each room has a different focal point that somehow comes together as a whole: pumpkins, bats, skulls, witches, vampires. The porch combined everything, along with cobwebs and lights. 

Nothing too scary as they don't want to frighten the kids. Not after a rude neighbor made a sweet, little girl cry a couple of years ago.

Bucky managed to calm her down while Steve went to have a word with the jerk about etiquette.

You take photos and make sure to say how proud you are of how great the place looks. You swear they blush when they say it's nothing.

The last decoration the boys put out are the personalized pumpkins with their names on them, intricately designed like tattoos. They surprise you by getting you one of your own, setting it in the middle.

"You didn't think we'd forget about you, did you, Blossom?"

You thank each of them with a kiss, appreciating how thoughtful they are. It's a gift you can't wait to put out every year.

They practically buy half of the candy aisle for the trick or treaters and have comfortable chairs, blankets, and warm drinks set up for the three of you on the porch. 

You somehow convince them to dress like Mario and Luigi while you dress like Princess Peach. And almost regret it when they say they're keeping the mustaches on later.

Bucky smirks and reminds you that the costumes for Thor's "Day After Halloween" party the next night are a lot more risqué and would scar the kids if you change. Steve laughs and says you're stuck with the staches for the time being. 

"Don't you want a mustache ride?" Bucky asks innocently, dodging you when you try to smack his arm.

"For the love of your tattoos, stop," you beg.

"C'mon, Buck. We know she prefers beard bounces," Steve says just as casually.

"Fucking tattooed bastards."

The two hours of passing out candy fly by and your heart warms as you watch how the boys interact with everyone. They're perfectly at ease as they let the kids tell jokes and are patient when some take their time selecting their treats. 

They even give out a few temporary tattoos, after asking the parents if it's okay. 

If Mandy saw them, she'd make comments again about one of them knocking you up. 

You're almost sad for it to end, but you know you still have a night of cuddles and movies to look forward to. They always end Halloween with at least one film.

Bucky bets you'll only make it through one before you're begging for them. Steve gives you a little more credit and says you'll almost make it to the end of the second.

You don't make it through the opening credits before you're split open and you feel no shame in that as they take turns ruining you. 

Without the fake mustaches, thankfully.

The orgasms relax you as they snuggle on each side of you after. Bucky is sweet enough to feed you a piece of your favorite candy. 

Steve kisses your temple as Bucky nuzzles your neck, thanking you for giving them such a great Halloween.

"The celebration isn't over yet," you say once you can speak again.

"Oh, yeah? You ready for round two, Blossom?" Bucky asks, kissing over your pulse.

"I was thinking about Thor's party tomorrow. I'm sure we can find a spot there to have some fun," you smirk.

Steve laughs as he kisses your temple again. "And you call us menaces."

"Sex all over Thor's place could be a new tradition," Bucky chuckles, the sound warming your insides like they did minutes ago. 

"I learn from the best, boys. Happy Halloween."

I love them so much. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Age Of Consent [part five]

Summary: Dustin’s older sister thinks Eddie Munson could be a bad influence on her younger brother due to their history. Can he change her mind?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 3.083

What you’ll find in this series: big angst, wholesome fluff, sexual content, drug use, tobacco use, alcohol use, and a lot of profanity. This is a slow burn- buckle up, buttercup.

A/N: Halfway through!! Remember I post an update daily at 12:00 PM EST, tags are unfortunately closed for this series. Really hope you guys like this one! Can't wait for what happens next!

Read Part Four || Read Part Six

When your brother mentioned that he wanted to go to a concert, you weren't sure what to expect, but you certainly did not expect to pull up to a dingy, poorly lit bar on the outskirts of town.

"Dustin," you said. "I think you have the wrong address."

"I most certainly don't," he replied with a wide smile. "Come on, let's go."

The inside was just about as welcoming as the parking lot. If your mother knew that you had brought her sweet, sweet baby boy into a dive bar, she would flatline on the spot. You mentally reminded yourself to make sure that Dustin pinky swore to never tell her about this little escapade later.

No one even seemed phased by the presence of Dustin which both relieved and frightened you. A scantily clad waitress brought over two glasses of water and asked if you wanted something stronger, but you declined. You had a feeling that she wouldn't even card you.

The lights dimmed and Dustin began to cheer. He was the only one.

You could see four dark figures walk out onto the stage and pick up their instruments. The beginning notes of a song that you faintly recognized played through the amplifiers and your brother cheered loudly, once again. The spotlight hit the stage and your jaw just about hit the floor.

You could not believe that your brother had brought you to a Corroded Coffin show. This was the exact reason why you didn't want Dustin hanging around Eddie; he had clearly been deceiving you from the jump and this was one-thousand percent a setup. It was as clear as day to you now. You had gone two years without once seeing Eddie in this small town, but the moment your brother got involved you started seeing him everywhere? Total setup.

However, you were still so goddamn impressed by the boy's ingenuity that you weren't mad at him one bit. You knew your brother was smart, you should have known that he would have figured out that you still had feelings for Eddie.

Speaking of impressed, you were enamored by Eddie's band and how good they had become over the years. You didn't recognize any of the other kids, but they were great, and probably the best metal cover band that you had ever heard of- not that you had heard of many in Hawkins. Out of all of them, however, it was Eddie who was the best. He had been playing the guitar since he could tie his shoes, pretty much, and it was obvious that he was extremely talented.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his hands.

Your surroundings melted away as you became entranced by the way his fingers worked the neck of his guitar with such delicacy, such ease. His hair was damp with sweat as he bounced around the stage, that effortless charisma on full display for the small crowd. You remembered when he used to pull out his acoustic guitar and play for you; his onstage persona was the complete opposite of the softness of his bedroom.

After every song, Dustin screamed at the top of his lungs in support of his friends. You could see the shy smile on Eddie's lips every time and it made your heart melt.

When the set was over, Eddie hopped down off of the stage and immediately made his way over to the table.

"Dude!" Dustin yelled, giving Eddie a high-five. "That was so awesome!"

"Thanks, man," Eddie said before his eyes landed on you. "I'm glad you were able to make it."

"I lost a bet, remember?" You smiled at him and he laughed. "That was pretty impressive, I gotta hand it to you."

Eddie placed a hand on his chest sarcastically. "That is just about the best damn compliment you could give a guy, Ms. Henderson, considering how hard it is to impress you."

"Can we get something to eat?" Dustin interrupted. "I'm starving."

"You should have had something to eat before we left." You chided. "It's so late, I doubt anyone's open."

"There's a diner down the road that has the best burgers in all of Indiana," Eddie added. "I am also on the verge of starvation if you want to go. I know it's way past your bedtime, kid."

"Can we go, Y/N?" Dustin pleaded. "I'm not even tired!"

"You are spoiled, you know that?" You asked your brother.

He was already running out of the door to the car. Eddie grabbed your elbow before you could head out after him. It was a simple touch, but it made your cheeks flush; you hoped that he hadn't noticed with how dimly lit the bar was. You looked at his hand holding on to your arm and he immediately pulled away, shoving his hands in his pockets as if he was in trouble.

"I gotta stick around here long enough to take down the equipment," he said softly. "The diner is about five minutes from here, you just take a left out of the parking lot and keep going straight. It'll be on the right-hand side of the road. I'll meet you there in about twenty minutes, this won't take long."

"Sure," you replied. "I'll see you there."

"Can't wait," he smiled.

You had been fighting the butterflies in your stomach from the moment you had left The Hideout bar to the moment that Eddie's van pulled into the diner parking lot. It was a losing battle, but you weren't ready to give in to them. Not yet. You couldn't just give up the ghost after two years of being at war with your own feelings. You wouldn't let him get off that easy, no matter how hard he or your brother were trying.

He slid into the booth next to Dustin, across from you, and immediately the nonsense began. Eddie and your brother were like opposite sides of the same coin; they read the same books, played the same games, watched the same movies. They were both brilliant, yet immature, and didn't care about who stared at them or how big of a scene they caused.

In the two hours that you spent in that booth, you don't think you had laughed this hard since your dad was alive. Between Dustin's snappy comebacks and Eddie's jokes, your cheeks were in pain from smiling so much.

And it was comforting to see Dustin so happy.

"Getting tired?" You asked your brother as he let a yawn slip. "We should probably get going."

Dustin wanted to protest, but both you and Eddie reminded him that he had school in the morning. You were surprised when Eddie asked for one check and fished out a twenty-dollar bill to cover your meals. You had mentioned to him that it wasn't necessary for him to do that, but he waved a hand at you, muttering something about it being no big deal.

"Thanks for coming to see my band play," he said quietly as he walked you to your car. Dustin was already in the front seat waiting on you. "Despite the fact that you only came because you lost a bet. You don't have to remind me that you definitely would not have come if it weren't for that, I already know."

You smiled, "you know me so well."

"That I do, m'lady."

"Look, I know that you have school tomorrow," you began, not really knowing how to finish this particular sentence without feeling like you were choking on thin air. "But I'm not quite as tired as that guy," you pointed over your shoulder at Dustin who was practically already asleep in the car. "You want to maybe- I don't know- If you wanted to come over? You totally don't have to, I would definitely understand."

You were rambling.

"Y-yeah," Eddie blurted almost as soon as the question left your lips. He was a little confused, definitely shocked, but ready to go with you wherever you asked nonetheless.

"Okay, cool." You replied doing your best not to smile like a goddamn idiot and play it cool. "You want to just follow us?"

"Sure," he nodded, still surprised that you would even ask him to come over and in front of your brother, no doubt.

You climbed into your car, trying to ignore your brother's stare.

"Did you just invite Eddie over to our house?"

"Yes," you replied as you started up the ignition. "And you're not going to tell mom, considering that this was your plan all along. You're especially not going to tell her that the little concert you wanted to go to so bad was at a dive bar. Pinky promise me."

Dustin wrapped his little finger around yours and bound the contract.

The drive back to your house was longer than usual. You weren't quite sure what made you want to invite Eddie back to your house, but you were only slightly regretting it. It's not like you could get all the way into your driveway and tell him that you had changed your mind.

"Straight to bed," you told your brother when you pulled up outside of your house. The lights were off, signaling that your mother had already gone to bed herself.

Eddie had parked across the street out of habit. He never wanted your mother to question why there was a creepy white van sitting directly in front of her house, especially since she had no idea that he even existed in your life. Dustin gave him a wave before heading inside, leaving the two of you alone.

"For old time's sake?" He asked, holding a joint between his fingers.

"I will not be so easily corrupted, my good sir."

"Says the young lady who used to sneak me in through her window every night," he countered. "Should I go grab the ladder from the side of the house?"

You playfully shoved him before heading towards the front door. Eddie stayed where he was, however, not sure what to do. You turned around and motioned for him to follow you and he was at your side in an instant. When you passed through the front door, Eddie was stalled by the pictures that hung on the walls of the foyer; there was a picture for every year, almost. He had never been through your front door, never stood in your living room. This was all new to him and he needed a moment to take it all in.

"Look at your cheeks," he whispered with a smile as he pointed to one of your baby pictures.

"Come on," you whined, pulling him by the hand into your kitchen.

You knew that your mother kept a few cans of beer in the very back of the fridge in case she ever had company- which was never, and you were certain that it was probably stale, but you still fished them out from behind the two-week old leftovers and handed them to Eddie.

"Who's corrupting who?" He asked with a quiet chuckle.

"Come on, let's go."

"Oh, I'm taking these!" He whispered excitedly as he grabbed a bag of Doritos off of your counter.

You guided him through your backyard to Dustin's treehouse. He was insistent that you go up the ladder first, possibly out of chivalry, definitely because he wanted to stare at your ass. He handed you the beers and the Doritos before pulling himself up the ladder behind you. The tree house was small, and missing a roof at this point. Your dad had built it for Dustin when he was only five, so it had definitely seen better days.

But it offered a clear view of the sky and the crickets in the background provided a beautiful soundtrack.

You sat leaning against one of the wooden beams, Eddie was opposite you. Your feet playfully bumping into his. He cracked open a can of beer and passed it to you before opening one of his own and taking a swig. He placed the joint from earlier in his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out into the night.

"You remember the first time you brought me over here?"

He passed the joint off to you and you took it without hesitation.

"How could I forget?" You asked, taking a long drag. The burn of the smoke in your throat made you cough. "You were so nervous. You didn't want to touch anything in my room, you were afraid you would break something."

You reached out to pass the joint back to him. His calloused fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver through your arm. He took a hit of the joint and gently knocked the ashes off of the end.

"I was nervous because when I got there you looked me dead in the eye and asked me to take your virginity. I, too, was a seventeen-year-old virgin, how else was I supposed to react?"

"Hm," you remembered that night fondly. "You were so cute asking me for permission every twenty seconds."

"Just in case you changed your mind."

Eddie reached back out to you, passing the joint; your fingers lingering a little longer this time. The effects of the high were wearing on you, as they always did. You were giggling over nothing with eyes half-open. Eddie wasn't helping; his constant jokes and theatrics as he re-told past memories had you crying from laughing. You prayed that no one could hear you, it had to be past midnight by now.

At this point, you were both laying on your backs looking up at the stars and talking about nothing that mattered because neither one of you wanted to ruin this moment. You were pressed against each other, side-by-side, the warmth from his body keeping you from getting too cold. Your hands touched, back to back, but you could feel his fingers itching to intertwine with yours.

"Fuck, I've missed this," he said softly as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand.

You became suddenly hyper-aware of the situation that you had put yourself in. Your mind began to fixate on the fact that he was holding your hand in his, and that you were completely leaning into him. The high immediately dissipated and you were left with the aching feeling that you were about to cross a line that you did not want to cross.

"I think you should go," was all that you could think to say. "I didn't realize it was so late." You had hoped the last part would soften it.

He sat up and frowned, "Did I do something wrong?"

"All of this is wrong, Eddie." You sighed. "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Why?" He asked, his voice breaking. "I thought we were having a good time."

"We were," you answered honestly.

"Then what is it?" He pushed. You paused. "I'm still not fucking good enough for you am I?" You sighed in response, not wanting to go down this road with him right now. "Well, I am so sorry that I don't fit into the cookie-cutter life that you always wanted; good college, pastel sweaters, conformity."

"Wasn't even able to get into a good college because of you, so don't even bring that shit up right now." The words came heavily from your mouth and were laced with anger.

Eddie stops and turns to you.

"What?"

You had thought about this argument for a long time.

"I know that you remember the day we were caught smoking pot out past the football fields, even though you swore up and down no one ever came out there." You recollected. "I had to put on the performance of a lifetime pretending that I was sick for that 10-day suspension so that my mom didn't find out."

"In case you weren't aware, things like that go on your public record, making it impossible for me to get into a decent school." You could feel your eyes burning. "I applied for almost every college in the goddamned country."

Eddie sighed and reached a hand out to comfort you but you pushed him away. "Y/N, I didn't realize-"

"Of course you didn't," you cried. "You were so- so fucking selfish back then, all you cared about was your little club, your guitar, and your punk ass reputation. I wanted to break up with you then, I almost did, but I loved you so much."

"Baby," he whispered, trying to pull you into his arms. "I'm so sorry."

"I didn't want to break up with you Eddie, but I had to. That day at graduation, I just couldn't do it anymore."

You could see his eyes glossy in the moonlight. He was mere inches away from you, wanting nothing more than to hold you and somehow make this better. He felt fucking awful, and suddenly he realized what you meant when you said that his choices had a way of bleeding into the lives of the people around him. Fuck, he felt like such an asshole.

"You should really go," you said once again.

He nodded, knowing that there was nothing that he could say or do to remedy this situation. In his heart he also knew that trying to win you back was a moot point. You were right to have broken up with him, to never want to see him again. Hell, he wouldn't have wanted to see himself either.

In high school, all that you had talked about was getting out of Hawkins and getting into a good school with a good theater program. The fact that he had something to do with you not being able to achieve those dreams made him feel sick to his stomach. He remembered that day as if it were yesterday. You didn't even want to go out there. You said that you needed to study for your Literature test, but he begged you to skip lunch with him and head out towards the woods.

He remembered how you didn't talk to him for almost a month after that.

He climbed down from the treehouse and turned back one more time, but you wouldn't look at him. He muttered something under his breath that you couldn't quite hear before stalking off into the darkness. You could hear his van start-up and take off down the road, leaving you with nothing but an ache in your gut and a feeling of regret.

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[sanjisprincesswifey]

imagine ⋆ zoro x reader

summary: you and your soulmate don't have one of your five senses until you fall in love with one another

♡: soulmate au zoro. female reader. 2.700+ words. sfw content.

“left...right...left...left.”

your body sways back and forth, mimicking the swinging of zoro's swords. the movement of cool air ran along your body, allowing you to know in what directions he was wielding them in.

“now you stopped.”

wiping his sweaty brow with his towel, zoro placed his swords back onto the display case you had made him with a soft chuckle.

"why’d you stop?” you ask, your body turning to face him. your eyes follow where you presumed him to be by the creaking of the floor boards, awaiting an answer.

“i’ve been training for an hour,” he blankly stated, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“has it really been an hour?” you lifted your wrist, pretending to take a look at your imaginary watch.

zoro laughs to himself, his eyes fixated on the grey of your own. staring straight ahead you continued to sketch in your notebook, a soft smile resting on your lips as it always did.

“what're you drawing?” he wonders, an unusually curious tone seeping into his sentence.

your pencil stopped, his deep voice was so hypnotizing. though you had no idea what he looked like, you could only imagine.

“what i think you look like,” you admit, with an unapologetic smile curving your lips.

the water from his cup almost spilled over his bare torso; it was funny that you could feel the sudden change in the air. your hands turned the notebook to allow him to see. “what do you think?”

zoro smirked, taking the notebook from you to inspect it himself. for some reason, you had been able to capture his likeness without ever laying eyes on him. you were definitely talented, he’ll give you that.

though it had been a couple years since you lost your eyesight, you had adapted impressively quickly. you had even joked that you didn't even need your sense of sight to pursue all the things you loved and even if you didn't find your soulmate, you'd fare rather well.

when you first joined the crew, zoro utilized your ailment as an excuse to train together. he'd say something among the lines of 'spending hours in the crow’s nest would perfect your fighting skills'. though, to be frank, you were already a pretty talented fighter without his help.

“huh, well;" zoro toys with his inner cheek.

that strange, unfamiliar fuzziness he had felt before was back again. at first, it was frightening, but looking at you now, it was much more comforting and warm than it had previously been.

“it’s really good,” he admits. his words tugged at your heartstrings, pleased with yourself and your talent. “how can you do that? it actually looks like me, but you don’t even know what i look like.”

you giggled, allowing him to take the notebook from your hands. “that’s what you look like in my head. i’ve asked the others what you look like and this is the final product. although, sanji said you were just a moss ball with hair.”

zoro paused, he didn’t even register the cook’s snide comment, he was more focused on what you said before that.

“you asked the others?”

you nodded, glad you couldn’t see anything, so you wouldn’t have to make awkward eye contact with the swordsman right now.

“yeah, it was easier than asking you if i could feel your face to, you know, feel for myself.”

zoro’s eyes flicked between your dull ones and your lips where a small smile rested. the feeling from before festered further throughout his body. he felt sweaty and not just because he had been working out for the past hour.

his palms twitched at the thought of feeling your dainty hands running over his features, and some part of him wanted you to.

“but, since we’re here,” you sheepishly gushed, inching closer to him. “do you mind if i...”

before zoro could respond, luffy burst through the crow’s nest hatch, scanning the room until his big black eyes found you. “y/n! there you are! come with me! i’ve been looking for you!”

without waiting for confirmation, luffy pulls you by the hands to follow him to the main deck, holding you tightly in his arms on the way down.

zoro was unsure of what luffy needed from you, but all he wanted was for you to be sitting by him again. your warmth lingered, but only for a second as zoro was left on his own. it was the first time, of many to come, that he disliked being alone.

.。･:*:･

“remind me again, why did you want to come with me, zoro?”

he followed next to you, pulling the wagon full of ingredients sanji had asked you for.

you were surprised when he had offered to join you, instead of head with luffy and franky to go eat, or stay on the sunny to nap. but you weren’t complaining, you enjoyed pretending like you couldn’t tell his stare would be lingering on you for longer than it should’ve.

“couldn’t afford for you to get lost,” he shrugged nonchalantly which resulted in a scoff coming from you.

“are you really one to talk?” you joke.

zoro laughed, a little too hard, causing your heart to race at the unfamiliar sound.

“wait,” you both stopped, a familiar chime rang through your ears, “come with me.” you took hold of his hand, dragging him with you to wherever you were headed.

you did not fail to notice that he never once attempted to retreat from your hold like you thought he would.

his eyebrows raised as he looked down at your hands, now realizing you had interlaced your fingers together. feeling you attached, almost like a sign that you were his, he felt a sort of pride, confidence in which he hasn’t felt before.

you stopped in front of the wind chime display, smiling to yourself.

your mind flooded with the thought of your childhood home, wind chimes flowing through the summer breeze, emitting a melodious sound.

you released zoro’s hand, the emptiness from the other night returning, causing him to frown.

“excuse me, how much for the wind chimes?” you ask, hoping the person behind the display heard you.

the vendor curiously flicked eyes between you and zoro, before noticing the dullness in your own.

“they’re one hundred berries a piece ma’am.” the gentleman offered, taking your outstretched hand and kissing the back of it.

zoro growled lowly when the man studied your face with the same expression the cook often had.

“i haven’t seen you around here before, are you new in town?”

you chuckled, shaking your head, feeling the delicate objects with your hands as you retreat from his grasp.

“no, we’re just in town for the night. we’re leaving tomorrow,” you inform, reaching for your bag to retrieve the correct amount of money.

the vendor's hand rests on top of yours as your rummaging halts.

“how about instead of paying for this, i’ll give it to you in exchange for a date tonight. you know, since you’ll still be in town?”

zoro’s jaw clenched at the man's words, eyes darting to your face to see how you were reacting to this.

his eye twitched when the man paid no mind to him, acting as if he didn’t even exist.

you hesitate for a second, “um...sure. i guess that would be okay." you awkwardly smile, unsure of how to respond.

a sharp pain grows in zoro's chest as he drops the handle of the wagon, a loud slapping sound emitting as it dropped to the concrete floor.

he darted immediately to the sunny, leaving you alone while he feels his head throbbing.

“zoro?” you called, but you got no response.

.。･:*:･

“sanji, can i have more of this tea? it’s amazing!” you smiled, holding out your cup so that the chef could refill it.

zoro followed your eyes, and if you had your sight you’d be making eye contact with one another.

the thing is, you knew zoro was staring at you. his gaze was hot and it burned into you, but you decided to save him the embarrassment in front of your nakama and let it slide. for now.

“of course, my dearest y/n. i’m so glad you enjoy it. can i get you anything else before you go?” sanji coos as you felt his lips against your knuckles, a gesture that he often pulled when you were least expecting it.

meanwhile, zoro’s stare from before had a much angrier intent, the air growing slightly heavier.

sanji was used to it though. after all, the two being the object of one another's aggression was a common occurrence, but it was strange this time around.

the reason behind his anger was clear to everyone at that table, probably except luffy and chopper to due to sheer obliviousness.

after you had left for your date, robin, nami, brook, and sanji decided on a plan to corner zoro in the kitchen.

right before he could leave for bed, robin locked the door, her hana-hana limb keeping it shut to deny him an exit.

“mm?” zoro turned around, facing robin who was innocently smiling at him.

“take a seat moss head,” sanji interrupts before blowing his smoke in the opposite direction.

he was confused, but obliged and sat at the head of the table, kicking his feet up.

“zoro, you seem to be taking a liking to y/n,” brook started, sipping his tea.

he only paused for a moment, doing his best not to stagger from his calmed demeanor, shrugging his shoulders, “yeah, she’s nice. a good training partner.”

he was good at pretending to be fine, he just hoped the three didn’t see the bead of sweat that formed on his brow.

“she’s quite pretty too, don’t you think so?” robin asked, tilting her head.

zoro’s breath hitched, his good eye shooting open to stare back at the girls who sat opposite the table from him.

nami wore such a devilishly evil smile it made him nervous to continue speaking.

“i, uh-” he coughed, feeling the burning stare of his friends.

“if you ask me, y/n is gorgeous.” brook spoke, “i would like to ask her for her panties-"

nami throws a shoe at the skeleton, ready to cut to the chase and avoid the sexual harassment. “so what do you think? you agree with us?”

zoro swallowed thickly, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. “s-sure. yeah, she’s cute.” his eyes wandered the room, refusing to look at the four matchmakers in front of him.

“enough. we could do this all night. mosshead, you like y/n or what?” sanji’s arms folded across his chest in an accusatory manner, enjoying how uneasy zoro seemed to be.

“wha--? no! no, i don’t like her. that’s crazy,” zoro shot out of his chair, hastily pacing around the room, somewhat laughing at sanji’s allegation.

he stopped when he realized that they were tauntingly smiling at the poor swordsman.

he drew in a long breath before nodding, sitting back down. “yeah, i think i do.” zoro expected the others to laugh, perhaps to make fun of him for feeling so sentimental over a person. but he forgot who he was talking to.

a comforting hana-hana limb rubbed his back while he let out a dry laugh, holding his hands out in disbelief.

“what do i do?”

his hands carded through his hair, it felt good to finally let it out.

“i’m back!” your voice was faint, far off.

“you have to tell her,” nami screeches, almost excited to watch this go down.

zoro’s brows furrowed together, shaking his head.

after minutes of back and forth, zoro was being pushed out the door.

“don’t be a wimp mosshead.”

“are you crazy? what am i supposed to say?” the four combined their power and were able to get zoro out the door, locking it behind him.

“tell her you like her eyes!”

“ask to see her panties!”

“tell her the truth!”

zoro rubbed his head, grumbling underneath his breath as he spotted you up in the crow’s nest overlooking the open ocean. the kitchen light was off when he turned around to check one more time to see if he could run.

he took his time getting up there, hands slowly, shakily, opening the hatch.

you were sitting on the couch against the window, your hand cradling your head.

you heard someone enter the room, hoping whoever it was would leave you alone.

sighing, your legs fall to the floor feeling zoro sit at the opposite end of the couch.

“are you trying to scare me?” you joke, causing zoro to flinch; he thought he was doing a good job of being discreet.

“w—what? no! i, i was just—”

“i’m just messing with you, how was dinner?”

zoro couldn't even answer your question, his head spinning way too much to think clearly. maybe he’d pass out and wouldn’t have to tell you.

you turned your head more in his direction when he took too long to respond.

“oh, dinner was okay,” he swallowed thickly. he knew you weren’t actually looking at him, but when your idle eyes roamed over him his heart began irradicably beating. “how was your date?”

you shifted in your seat, unsure if he was the person you should be telling this to.

“that bad, huh?”

you both laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“it was okay. he was nice, and smart, and funny...”

‘this would be the best time to pass out,’ zoro thinks, his brow picking up a sweat.

“...but,” his brows raised, eyes shooting directly over to you. “he just wasn’t my type.”

zoro clenched his fists, fisting bumping the air in celebration.

“i think i like someone else,” you admit.

your cheeks stained red, and you didn’t know, but his did too.

zoro’s eyes glanced between his lap and your hand resting on top of the couch, wondering if he should grab it.

“anyways,” you interrupt, hoping to change the subject. you leaned over the edge, rummaging through your bag for your notepad and paper. “do you think i could feel your face now?” you mischievously ask, face splitting into a playful smile, inching closer not waiting for an answer from him.

before your he could even open his mouth to respond back, you were sitting on your knees on the couch, face so close to him he could smell the perfume you were wearing, hands hovering over his cheeks.

so much heat radiated off your hands, but all he could focus was on your dulled eyes gazing up at him.

“yeah, sure,” was all he said before your hands brushed over his stubbly skin using the most gentle touches.

your fingertips handled him in a delicacy that he had never experienced before, his lids aching to fall closed. “wow, your jawline is so sharp,” you comment, giggling when your fingers brush over his adam’s apple and you can feel him swallow. your hands wander up to the curvature of his nose, the tips of your fingers gliding around with ease.

zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest, what was this feeling? it was so powerful but terrifying? you were so pretty, and you smelled so nice, and your touch was so heavenly. what was this bursting feeling in his chest? when he looks back up at you and sees you smiling at him, he feels his heart beginning to swell. it’s like he can’t even catch his own breath. not even some of his strongest opponents had ever made him feel this weakness in battle, this vulnerable. so safe.

it was like a curtain. it was like darkness, and then sunlight. the feeling of that warmth enveloping your body in the kindest of hugs. the world exploded with vibrant arrays of colors you hadn’t seen in so many years. the yellowish-orange of the sunsetting sky, the ocean waves, the white of the clouds. your hands froze, your eyes now staring directly into zoro’s, who were incredibly wide.

was he dreaming? one minute he’s staring in your greyed eyes, and the next they’re bright, luminous and golden from the sun outside. if this was a dream, this was the best one he’s had about you yet.

you blinked a couple times, eyes attempting to focus. “zoro?” you breathed, hands still cupping his cheeks. zoro was doing his best to maintain consciousness, his brain unable to even process what had just happened.

your gaze was like fire, burning every inch of his face until it was red hot. your eyes ran over every feature on his face, examining each little detail, he was even prettier than you had imagined. not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine zoro to look as handsomely as he did.

you smiled widely, “it’s you,” hands running through his short, bright green hair.

zoro’s hands found your hips pulling you on top of his lap so you straddled him, lips so close yet, so far out of reach. “you’re my soulmate,” you whispered against his smug smile.

“so it’s okay if I kiss you?” you nodded, leaning into his lips before he had a chance to react. zoro groaned into your mouth, the simple sensation of your lips on his was more than enough to please him. he’d been waiting so long for this; he would’ve been satisfied with a simple kiss on the cheek.

his breath was hot, and his lips were chapped, but you didn’t mind. he guided yours with ease, nipping at your bottom lip. “you’re prettier than i saw in my head,” you smiled, your eyes remaining screwed shut.

“really?”

zoro was blushing beyond compare, his whole body pulsed when reality set in that he was actually holding you.

“prettier than i could ever imagine,” you sigh into the air, leaving no room between your lips once again.

like, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

[willowwhispersspeakeasy]

hi hello! saw your event and wanted to order an ace + fem!reader + enemies to lovers!! feel free to delete ^_^ <3

absolutely! one slice of cherry pie on its way~ -Onyx, the bartender

special event menu

warnings: fem! reader, turned out as more of a rivals to lovers hope you dont mind, some Riddle vs Floyd shenanigans

"y'all are way to intense about poker." Deuce noted.

"shut up, no one asked you." Ace bit back, shooting a glare to his friend.

"don't listen to him, hes just a a sore looser." you gloated, petting a napping Grim curled in your lap.

"hey! you look like some plotting bond villain with that weasel in your lap." Ace huffed.

"hes a feline not a ferret you uncultured swine." you defined your favorite monster, scratching gently behind his hears.

"hes a pain in the ass you can't even keep on a leash. that's why Deuce and I are always trying to catch him for you. you're a pretty lousy prefect if you can't even look after one student." Ace grinned, a satisfied smirk at your mockery.

"I've had about enough out of you, you little-"

"stop!" Deuce stood between you, a glare heavy in his eyes. "why are you two always fighting now a days? you used to be friends!"

both of you fell silent. Ace crossed his arms, suddenly more interested in the patterns on the carpet than the argument at hand.

"whatever. I have homework to do. see you tomorrow Deuce." you scooped up the napping cat in your arms and walked out of Heartslabyul.

you didn't talk to Ace for two days, avoiding or ignoring him. you went to Jack instead as a study buddy, or hid away by yourself in the Mostro Lounge. you tipped well to insure Jade would shoo away anyone who tried to bother you.

"you get into a fight again Shrimpy?" you glanced over your text book to see the mismatched eyes of the merman before you.

"dont worry about it." you brushed him off.

"yaknow Jade and I used to fight as kids sometimes." Floyd ignored you, continuing anyway.

"Ace isn't my brother Floyd. its different." you dismissed.

"oh~ you always treat the little mackerel like a sibling, not crab too?" his eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned over on your table.

you huffed, turning away from him. Floyd only giggled, before reaching out and grabbing your wrist in an iron grip.

"let's get Shrimpy back together with her boyfriend~ eehehe!" you squeaked in surprise, and slight pain, as the merman dragged you out of the booth.

"he's not my boyfriend Floyd!" you protested in vein as you were already being dragged out of octavinelle.

you are huffing and puffing trying to keep up with Floyd's long strides by the time you enter the library.

"goldfish! there you are~" you glance up to see a very displeased Riddle, glaring untrustingly at your captor.

"are you alright? you look like you've been dragged through most of campus." Riddle ignored Floyd, instead raising a brow at you.

"Shrimpy had a fight with Crab, so we're trying to get them to make up!" Floyd grinned, rows of sharp teeth on display.

"crab??" Riddle backed away like a frightened feline.

"he means Ace. there was, well," you paused. it wasn't an argument, not really.

the pair of you bickered all the time. you'd beat him at poker, he's best you at black jack. it got to the point Deuce would barely play with you two anymore since you'd get so competitive and personal in your insults.

"well?" Riddle prompted, drawing you out of your thoughts. the dorm leader sat with his arms crossed, analytical eyes scanning your face for any signs of deceitfulness.

"he made fun of me for not having any magic. I know everyone does but it... I don't wanna talk to him right now." you finally sighed. you knew Ace hadn't mentioned you being magicless exactly but the implications that you can't even look after Grim because of your lack of natural talent still stung the same.

"I see." Riddle sighed, closing his notes and standing to his feet.

"...thank you Floyd, I can take it from here." he spoke, gesturing for you to follow him.

"nope, I wanna see what happens~ where's the fun in just handing her over anyway." Floyd frowned, grip tightening on your wrist again.

you really didn't wanna have to deal with this right now. you still had studying to do, and if you left your notes and textbooks in Mostro Lounge, you'd have to pay to get them back from the lost and found.

"hey Floyd!" you tugged on the taller boy. he glanced down at you curiously. "why don't you and Riddle play tag? the library has lots of hallways that'll make it harder than playing outside. you should try it!"

you grinned as your captor's eyes lit up, before his predatory gaze turned to the much smaller man before you.

"excuse me! the rules clearly state that there is to be no running in the library. its rather dangerous, never mind how loud it would be, disturbing the other guests-"

"your ten second head start is up fishy~ don't wanna find out what happens if I catch you~" Riddle shrieked as Floyd lunged for him, your captive wrist finally released as Floyd vaulted over the table.

turning your back you quickly scrambled out of the library, not bothering to look back at the chaos behind you.

after collecting your belongings before Azul had locked them away, you made your way back to ramshackle, only to find three students already waiting for you there.

"care to explain why you two are here?" your eyes flashed back and forth from Deuce to Jack.

"they're staging an intervention." Grim piped up from the couch.

you deadpanned. wasn't a feral merman matchmaker enough for one day?

"this better not be about Ace-"

"it is." Deuce confirmed, his arms crossed in a defiant stance. you couldn't even manage to get out of Floyd's grip without a distraction, you were well aware Jack and Deuce could drag you wherever they wanted if they had to.

"look okay, I don't like, hate him or something." you huffed, pulling your arms around yourself.

"then why have you been avoiding him so bad?" Jack asked. the two boys before you were much gentler with you than Ace was. maybe it was because they pitted you for your lack of magic, maybe it was because they were both so soft hearted under all that muscle.

"I just... it felt like from what he said he was implying I can't even look out for Grim since I don't have magic." you admitted. "that I'm helpless and always clinging onto you guys for protection or something."

the two boys looked at each other, before their eyes turned back to you.

"listen okay its been a long day. I really just wanna take a shower and head to bed." you sighed, rubbing your wrist, the same one clamped in Floyds grip maybe an hour or so ago.

"yeah I agree." your head shot to the new voice. Ace leaned on the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed as he scuffed his shoes on the ground.

you groaned. you should have expected this. that's why Grim had called it an intervention.

"we'll wait upstairs." Jack stated, scooping up Grim and heading up, Deuce just behind him.

you and Ace sighed in unison, glancing to each other, then quickly away.

"alright listen. I didn't say anything about you not having magic, and I definitely didn't say anything about you being helpless." Ace defended.

"I don't really care anymore Ace." you shook your head, flopping down onto the couch.

"you don't? cool then we can call the others back-"

"that's not what I meant." you grit your teeth but kept your voice calm. "I mean, I don't care what you said. I care what you meant. and you meant to insult me by calling me weak."

"I absolutely did not!" he jumped to his own defense, arms still crossed as he stood before you.

"look I get it, im a magicless student, I'm a foreigner from god knowns where, and im a 'weak little girl' in a school full of guys." you stuck the ginger boy with a sharp glare. "dont pull your punches next time. tell me how you actually feel."

"you wanna know how I actually feel?" Ace growled. you grinned triumphantly.

"go ahead, spit it out." he took a deep break, knuckles white as he held his arms.

"I feel like you dont need me anymore." that was about the last thing you thought he'd say.

Ace continued, eyes shut tight and shoulders taught.

"Deuce and I have known you the longest, apart from Grim I guess, but! we were your friends when everyone else saw you as a nobody. and yeah okay, maybe at first I thought you were no good since you kept getting me caught. but after that first day, when we defeated that monster in the mines, I have never mistaken you for weak again."

blood red eyes opened to meet yours head on.

"I care about you a lot okay, a-and I know Deuce and Jack do to but- I just care about you a lot... don't- nevermind." you watched as your friend folded in on himself, turning his head away to hide from you.

"say you're sorry."

"what?!" Ace turned his head back to you.

you grinned, legs crossed on the couch as you watched him.

"say you're sorry for hurting my feelings." Ace grumbled but took a deep breath.

"...I'm sorry... that you took my words the wrong way and didn't actually listen to-"

"OH FOR THE SEVENS SAKE JUST APOLOGIZE!" Deuce bellowed from the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings!" Ace jumped and flinched.

"thank you. apology excepted." you stood, brushing the dust from your uniform. Ace sighed and shook his head, arms falling to his sides.

the young man gasped when you wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his shoulder. you spoke quietly, in the hopes the three upstairs wouldn't hear you.

"I love you too Ace. and I do listen, even when you don't know how to say it."

he choked on his own breath, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, returning your hug. you were pulled tight to his chest, the smell of roses and cherries lingered on his skin, warm like summer time.

when you pulled away you cupped his cheeks, noting the pink dusting his nose and ears. Ace's grip on your waist tightened, and before you knew it his lips were on yours.

it was little more than a peck, but apparently the other three had picked just the wrong time to descend the stairs.

"EWWWW THE HUMANS ARE EXCHANGING SALIVA! IM GUNNA BE SICK!"

"shut up Grim you lick your own butthole."

[stardate2603]

The Aldeans (Wesley Crusher x Reader)

Set during the episode "When The Bough Breaks" in season 1

gif belongs to me

You were supposed to be meeting Wesley at your quarters and you were walking in the hallway when it happened. One second you were on the Enterprise, the next you were in an unknown room.

You looked around and relaxed when you saw Wesley. "Wes?" You crossed the room, looking at the group of children. "What's going on?"

"Were you scanned too?" Harry asked.

You shook your head, frowning as you looked at Wesley. "Where are we?"

"Aldea." He told you, taking your hand. "Don't worry." You hugged him for a moment, sighing when you pulled away.

"Wesley, I'm frightened."

"I know you are, Katie." He turned to the blonde girl, "We all are, but we're going to be alright." He took your hand, squeezing it, and you smiled softly. "Everyone knows where we are, and no one is going to hurt you. I promise."

You kneeled to hug them and kissed their heads. "We'll be back on the Enterprise and with our families before you know it." You smiled reassuringly, turning when the door opened.

"Greetings, Wesley Crusher." You eyed the man warily, looking at Alexandra, who hooked her arm around Wesley's leg, his hand on her shoulder protectively. Katie stood behind you, and you took her hand to comfort her.

"The Custodian indicated that you would be the leader."

"The Custodian? Who is the Custodian?" Wesley asked.

You frowned, not liking that the Aldeans had taken a particular interest in Wesley.

"The Custodian is not a person."

"You have been brought to Aldea as our guests. We'll provide anything you need or want." The blonde woman spoke.

"Send us back." You stepped forward, and Wesley grabbed your hand, stopping you from leaving his side. You noticed how the three Aldeans shared a look as if pleased by his display of protectiveness.

"We want to go home." Wesley looked at them.

"Wesley, all of you have been chosen because you are special. Just ask for anything you want, and you shall have it."

Your eyes widened when Alexandra left Wesley's side, approaching the blonde woman to shake her hand. You looked at Wesley, feeling his hold on your hand tighten. You touched his arm, watching Alexandra with concern in your eyes.

"Come with me, and I will show you to your units." The man said.

"Who are these people?" You whispered to Wesley as you reluctantly followed the Aldeans.

"He spoke to the Captain before we were scanned. His name is Radue. And the blonde with Alexandra is Rashella if I remember correctly." He whispered.

"I wasn't scanned. Why am I here?" You eyed the three Aldeans warily, and he took your hand, observing them closely.

"I don't know. But don't worry. I won't let anyone hurt you." His eyes met yours as he spoke, and you smiled faintly.

"We need to protect the kids." You said.

He nodded in agreement. "We will." He placed an arm around you, and you followed Radue into a separate room with Katie and Harry.

"Come on. Don't be alarmed. The other children have been assigned to their units." Radue said.

"Units?" Wesley asked while you observed the Aldeans in the room carefully. A man had his arm on a woman's shoulder as she sat in a chair. You felt fear creep in as you pieced together what this was—an adoption.

"A unit is a group where those of similar talents and interests live together," Radue explained.

"Families." You whispered.

"Yes, you could call it that," Radue said.

Wesley shook his head, "We already have families."

You noticed the couple was particularly excited, and it only added to your anxiety. You kept Harry and Katie close to you and moved them behind you when Radue held a hand out to Harry.

"You have what I believe humans call, a strong motherly instinct," Radue commented. "That bodes well for the future of Aldea."

Your eyes met Wesley, who spoke up, trying to get the attention off of you. "Does Captain Picard know you're doing this?"

"We keep nothing from him." Radue held a hand to Harry, and you kept him behind you.

Harry took your hand, and you frowned when he stepped forward. He sent you a nod, and you looked at Wesley desperately, tears in your eyes as the couple approached Harry.

"We've been waiting for you so long, Harry." The woman said. "We are artists, just like you. We see within you the potential of what you can be."

"I'm not an artist," Harry spoke quietly.

"You will be a great one." The man said.

"This way, Harry."

You stepped forward to intervene when they led him out, and Wesley stopped you, not wanting you to get hurt. You turned around, burying your head in his shoulder as you cried silently, clenching his uniform in your fists from frustration.

Harry looked at Wesley, who gave him a nod, attempting to reassure him, and Harry nodded back.

"Unit B, three, seven, five." The woman said, the three of them teleporting to their room.

"Katie." Radue put a hand on her shoulder, but Wesley pulled her toward him gently.

An older man left the table; you guessed he was in his sixties at least, approaching the three of you. "I am honored."

"Thank you," Katie said.

"Melian is the foremost musician on Aldea." Radue introduced, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Music speaks its own language. I know we'll have much to learn from each other." Melian said.

Katie reached for you when he tried to lead her away, and you hugged her tightly.

"Don't worry, Katie. You'll be seeing Wesley and Y/N soon." Melian told her.

You looked at Wesley, who reluctantly nodded. You placed your hands on her cheeks and kissed her head, wrapping your arms around her tightly as you whispered in her ear. "I promise you that you'll be alright. We won't be here for long."

Katie nodded, leaving with Melian.

You stood up, and Wesley took your hand. "What about us? Don't we get a say in this?"

"Wesley, sometimes something happens which you just must accept," Radue told him.

Wesley rolled his eyes.

"You and the other children are now members of this society. That will not change." Radue continued. "It is up to you to make the transition as easy as possible for the others. It is your duty because you are the leader. Help them to accept it."

"What about me? You didn't scan me. So why am I here?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"One day, we hope that the two of you will give birth to a new generation of Aldeans," Radue explained.

You swallowed thickly, looking at Wesley as your attempt to be threatening quickly disappeared.

Wesley looked at you, frowning at the thought of being trapped here long enough for that to happen.

"If we ever do have kids," you stepped forward, "you and no one else will get their stinking, wrinkly -"

Wesley moved you away, looking at you, amused and concerned that your temper would get you in trouble.

"Nothing you or those on the Starship can do can change it. Because, like you, we also have no choice." Radue told you.

"There's always a choice." You said. "And I will die before I have children here."

The door opened, and your eyes widened when Alexandra ran in, giggling as Rashella chased her. "Where have you been, Rashella?"

You smiled at the blonde girl, frowning when Rashella lifted her.

"Zena and Aran are waiting to take Alexandra." Radue continued.

"No," Rashella told him.

"No? I told you that she..."

"No, Radue. They can't have her." She held Alexandra closer, "I will never let her go."

You shared a look with Wesley, both concerned about Alexandra.

"Very well." Radue turned to you, "It's time to take you to your unit."

"No." Wesley took your hand, "She stays with me."

"You will see each other later -" Radue looked to the red-haired woman, "Duana will show you to the Custodian."

You looked at Wesley, knowing that if he went, he could learn more than anyone. "I'll see you later. Be careful."

You kissed his cheek, and he held your hand as you walked away, dropping his arm when you were out of reach.

Your relationship was fairly new, three weeks to be precise. But you had been friends for far longer, and the switch from friends to a dating relationship wasn't so complicated or awkward.

After Duana showed him the Custodian, Wesley was waiting with Duana for Radue to escort you to dinner. He stood up from the table, and you hugged for a moment, reassuring him that you were alright.

"Did you find anything?" You whispered as he pulled the chair beside him out for you.

"A little. I'll tell you later." He whispered after you sat down, pushing your chair in.

You nodded, looking at him as he sat beside you. You ate in silence, mostly pushing the food around.

"You have eaten very little," Duana commented.

"You didn't eat anything," Wesley said.

"We need very little," Radue told him.

"We know you miss your families, but you'll grow accustomed to us. And one day have a family of your own." Duana said. "I promise you'll be happy."

"We were happy before we came," Wesley replied.

You took his hand, and he looked at you, smiling faintly.

"We are offering you more, especially for you. We allowed you to stay together." Duana said.

Wesley sighed, staring at you for a moment before looking at Duana. "Duana, I feel bad for you that you have no children, but I have to tell you that we don't want to be here, and we will not cooperate."

Dinner ended shortly after the conversation died out, and you walked with Wesley to your unit, looking around with a heavy sigh.

"There's only one bed." You commented.

"I can take the floor if it would make you uncomfortable?" He suggested, and you shook your head.

"It's not like we haven't had a sleepover before." You sat on the bed with a sigh. "They really want kids. And want us to have them." You looked at him when he sat beside you. "I never gave it much thought until we came here. But if I ever have kids, I want them to know their grandparents."

Wesley nodded in agreement, "My mom would kill me if we had kids right now. I haven't even told her we are dating yet. I've been trying to find the courage." He said, making you laugh. He chuckled with you, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You should be more concerned about my dad." You giggled. "He likes you, but if you're dating his daughter, you are immediately scrutinized. I thought he was kidding, but when my sister got a boyfriend, he ran out of the house after my dad had a 'chat' with him." You looped your arm with his right arm, his hand taking yours and intertwining your fingers. "I hate to think about what's going through his head right now. He must be so worried."

Wesley kissed your head. "We'll see them again. For now, try and get some sleep."

The next day was long and tedious. You were given literature to occupy you while Wesley was taught more about the Custodian. You rarely had time together apart from dinner. And you were too bored to sleep that night.

"Y/N? Are you awake?"

You looked at Wesley as he turned around. "Yeah."

"I have an idea."

You sat up and turned to him, "What can I do?"

The next day you gathered the kids and found a table to sit around. You smiled at Alexandra when she reached for you when you entered with Harry and Katie, Wesley handing her over to you.

"I missed you."

"I've missed you too." You kissed her head and joined the table, Wesley smiling at you before starting to explain his plan.

"We start by not talking to them or eating any of the food they give us," He said.

"Why will not eating and talking make them send us home?" Katie asked.

"It's called Passive resistance," Wesley explained.

"A form of rebellion." You added.

"Right." Wesley nodded. "We don't do what they want us to do, and they don't want us."

"Will they get mad at us?" Katie asked.

"They can't hurt us," Wesley reassured.

"But, Wes, I kind of like them," Harry said.

You smiled, "I don't think they're bad people. Just desperate. They have tried to make us as comfortable as they could." You shared a look at Wesley, "They're friendly people, but you don't want to stay here forever, do you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. But I like working with the wood."

"Well, maybe you can talk to your dad about that when we get back home?" You suggested.

Harry looked down, and Wesley turned to him. "Harry, we all have to be in this together, or it's not going to work."

"Okay." The younger boy agreed. "I'll do it."

You smiled at him softly, hugging him to reassure him that it would all be worthwhile in the end.

"What are you all doing here together?" Rashella entered the room, and you moved away when she tried to take Alexandra from you. The young girl held onto you, and Wesley stood in front of you both.

"What is going on here?"

Everyone looked away from her except you and Wesley.

"We're raising our kids." You took Alexandra to the window to look outside, and Wesley suppressed a grin at your attitude.

Rashella lingered for a moment before leaving, and you turned to the group, grinning. "Good job, guys."

You looked at Wesley when he took you aside. "I saw my mom earlier." He whispered. "She's trying to find a way to cure the Aldeans." Your eyes lit up with hope, and you smiled. "She's here with the Captain."

You smiled brightly, hugging him, and he grinned into your shoulder. It was finally happening. They were coming for all of you.

The woman Harry was being looked after by walked in, and you and Wesley looked disinterested as she placed a tray of food down on the table, taking a seat on either side of Alexandra.

"Will you at least eat?" She asked.

She left unanswered, and Wesley stopped Alexandra from picking some fruit from the tray.

"No, Alexandra. We can't eat. I know you're hungry, we all are, but it's our way of telling them we want to go home. Understand?"

She nodded, and you smiled when he kissed her head.

A little while later, the Captain teleported into the room and you stood up, Alexandra in your arms as Wesley greeted him.

"Hi, Captain Picard."

"Hi, Captain." You stood beside Wesley, the other children gathering around you.

"Sir, I knew you would come."

"It's not over yet, Wesley." Picard told him.

"I think I figured out the computer controls, sir. But I'm not sure. It's a different system than ours." Wesley informed.

"Good, Wesley." Picard looked at all of you, "Now..."

"Captain?" Harry spoke up.

"Yes, Harry?"

"If something happens and you have to leave us here, will you tell my dad that I'm sorry I made him angry and...that I miss him?" Harry requested.

"You will tell him that, Harry, and I will tell him how much I admire his son," Picard said.

You placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and he smiled up at you.

"Come on." Wesley smiled down at you both before following the Captain to the transporter. You placed Alexandra down and stood next to Wesley before you were transported to where Beverly was waiting with the Aldeans.

"What is this?" Radue accused when he saw Picard had returned with the children.

"They want to go home," Picard said.

"No, they're staying," Radue told him.

"You can't make us stay here." You argued.

"We gave you everything you could ever want! Why are you so desperate to leave?"

You looked at Alexandra when she took your hand, and you lifted her, standing next to Wesley when he spoke, "It would never be home."

Picard's communicator beeped. "Number one."

"We're in position, sir," Riker informed.

You shared a smile with Wesley, who placed a hand on your back.

"Hold for orders," Picard told Riker.

"The radiation levels on Aldea have been building up over a long period of time. It is similar to what was experienced on Earth in the 21st Century when the ozone layer deteriorated, and the surface of the planet was flooded with ultraviolet radiation." Beverly spoke to Radue.

"The shield that protected your world in one way is weakening it in another. It is the radiation of your own that is destroying you." Picard added.

Radue shook his head, "You are trying to confuse the issue."

"Please, " You stepped forward, "Listen to what they have to say."

Radue looked at you, a small sigh leaving his lips as he looked at Picard, giving him a nod.

"You're all suffering from radiation poisoning. Sterility is only the latest symptom." Beverly said. "If the children remain, they will be affected as well."

"At least they can't make us have kids." You muttered to Wesley, who suppressed a smile.

"Wouldn't be all bad. Radiation aside." He replied.

You rolled your eyes playfully, looking away when Beverly and Picard were raising an eyebrow at you both.

"Later in time obviously." Wesley awkwardly added.

"Stop talking." You shushed him.

"What you're suggesting is impossible. Our scientists would have known." Radue spoke up.

"How could they? Your scientists have forgotten how everything works." Beverly replied.

"No, all lies." Radue turned, but Rashella stepped forward.

"No, wait. Don't send them back yet. What if they're right?" She asked him. "Instead of the children being our hope, we could be condemning them to our fate."

Radue looked at her, "Rashella, they're just protecting their own interests."

"As are we." She said. "But hear them out. The Captain and Dr. Crusher are saying that the very thing which has given us this wonderful world is what has caused this tragedy."

"Finally, some sense." You muttered.

Wesley quietly shushed you.

"That's it, exactly," Picard told Radue. "Your Custodian has controlled you so completely you've even lost the desire to question it."

"Lies, and the discussion is over." Radue tried to send the Captain and the Doctor back to the Enterprise with the device on his arm, but it wouldn't work.

Radue looked at Rashella, who looked at Picard. He tapped his badge, "Commander Riker, "

"Yes, sir?" Riker spoke through the commlink.

"I assume you have control of the computer."

"We've disabled the system temporarily. We found the power source of the shield, and we've centralized it." Riker explained.

"Good," Picard said. "Enterprise, this is Picard. Beam the children up."

You smiled at Wesley, frowning when Harry spoke.

"Wait." He moved to the couple who had taken care of him.

"Enterprise hold."

"Thank you," Harry told them.

"Let me get the dolphin for you to take with you." The man said.

"No, you keep it. I'll make another one." Harry smiled.

The man touched his shoulder gently before Harry walked over to where you stood.

You smiled at him, "Ready, Harry?" He nodded.

"Okay, kids, let's go home," Wesley told them.

You walked a few paces away, placing Alexandra down as you all took your place, prepared to beam up to the Enterprise.

"Beam them up," Picard ordered.

You shared a smile with Wesley before you appeared in the transporter room, and you smiled when you saw your father waiting for you.

You stepped off the transporter and rushed to him, hugging him tightly.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, dad." You looked at Wesley, waving him over. He approached nervously, smiling awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "There's something Wesley needs to tell you."

He looked at you, eyes wide in fright, and you giggled. You looped arms with him, looking at your father. "Wesley and I are...have been dating for three weeks now. And after the last couple of days, I have decided that I don't want to keep secrets from you anymore."

Your father stood straighter, eyeing Wesley, who shifted under his stare. "Very well."

You smiled at Wesley, who relaxed slightly. "If you hurt her, Mr. Crusher, I will make sure you regret it, are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Wesley flinched when your father patted his shoulder.

"You can see each other later, right now, I want to spend time with my daughter."

You kissed Wesley's cheek and walked out the transporter room with your father, smiling at Wesley over your shoulder.

Wesley jumped when his mother appeared behind him, "You and Y/N? I thought it would've happened sooner."

"Yeah, me too," Wesley admitted, and Beverly smiled at her son, knowing he had a crush on you for a while. "Hey, did you know their family spent a year on a space station? Her father did work there just weeks after she was born."

Beverly smiled as she walked out of the transporter room with him, "Sounds like you got to know each other even more while you were down there." She said.

"Oh, and her great-great-great-grandmother was a Betazoid. They all married humans, so the gene eventually died out." He told her.

Beverly smiled at him, knowing she would hear all the new facts he had learned about you for the next couple of hours.

"Promise me something, Wesley."

"Sure, mom, what is it?" He leaned against the console in sickbay, enthusiastic about telling her more information he had learned about you.

"No kids until you're at least twenty-five."

"The way the Aldea inhabitants we're talking, it sounded like we would have to have had a kid before we were twenty." He chuckled, stopping when he saw the look on his mother's face. "But twenty-five is a better number, yeah."

She smiled when he left the sickbay, shaking her head.

"It better be!" She called just before the door closed.

It sounded like you had a more eventful three days than she had in the Enterprise. She remembered hearing you arguing with the Aldeans about their hope of you having kids, causing her to laugh softly as she got back to work.

Later that day, you were in the observation lounge when Wesley found you. He smiled as he joined you on the sofa. "Couldn't sleep either?"

You shook your head, "I just wanted to make sure we were really here." You looked at him with a smile on your lips, "You know I'm going to miss sharing a bed with you."

He chuckled, "Yeah, somehow, I don't think your dad is going to agree to that now he knows we're dating."

You unwrapped the blanket around your shoulder and cuddled into his side. "Well, he isn't here right now." You pointed out. Wesley smiled down at you, kissing your head as he wrapped his arms around you, slouching in his seat a little more.

You would have to sneak back into your living quarters later in the morning, but for now, you and Wesley enjoyed the view of the stars, knowing that you were back where you belonged. On the Enterprise.

[hourglassstationacademy]

HSA Prologue part 4:

The cafeteria was already pretty occupied with lots of third and fourth years who seemed to have cake at their tables. You saw a blonde woman behind the counter who elegantly prepared more cakes. She smiled at seeing your dorm arrive. 

Amalia sighed.

"Here is Miss Pannacotta, In charge of the Cafeteria and any food you get here." 

"You may also call me Angelica, or Angel, if that is what you prefer, cause my creations are heavenly. "

She left you a piece of the cake to try as a group. It really was as she said heavenly in taste. 

"Didn't we agree today that Cake is not on the menu?" 

"Miss Belia allowed me to because today the new freshman walked around. My talent should be properly displayed."

"Anyway… we will move on."

She showed us the assembly hall above the Cafeteria and a dance studio, which serves for dance classes. Then we made our way to the club building wondering  when we actually got back to the school building. 

In the club building she explained to us how to join clubs and what the benefits are, like more points on the tablet,etc. And so she led us to a fancy room, where a person waited, looking like a student until he spoke Up. Next to him was a dark creature with yellow eyes.

"Do you have business here?" The voice sounded dark and very mature. Despite his face looking like a young man. 

"I wanted to show the kids the shop, so they know where they can use the points they collect on their tablet."

"You are the first today at least. My name is Sol… that is all you need to know for now.  " He sighed and opened something like a digital platform. 

"You gain each day with the school missions, objectives, things that have to do with classes, dorms and other things, points on this tablet of yours. It's like a game, do well in school and you get rewarded. You can exchange them here for decoration for your dorm room, electronics, costumes, magazines, books and more. The person with the most points at the end of one year gets a special prize. It's mainly a reward system to keep students motivated." 

Amalia nodded at his speech. 

"There you have it, so keep up with the crowd, Zeptograms and you might gain something to make this place more fun to you." 

She smiled and put her megaphone away. 

"Also Sol is in charge of Security so you probably will see the Creature next to him a lot around the school. This is why I waited last to show you the school… this way you won't get frightened by everything you see. You just expect them. They don't harm and only act once something against the rules or something dangerous happens. "

The Creature next to him waved slightly. It's seemed like it was showing more emotions than him even. Amalia got us back outside with a huge hexagon like building. 

"This is the simulation room, usually you only enter it with staff for Combat, parcour, or certain other classes that need the simulation.  You usually get a suit to use it there as well. Each Student has their own Simulation suit. " She showed us the sports hall which didn't look much different from a regular one and lastly, we finally arrived at the school in itself.  Aside the rooms you already saw like the gem room, the Elevators and some of the classes you finally went the floor up to a huge room full of pictures and paintings. 

"This is the Hall of Fame… many very famous students who have made it here on these walls… each of them having accomplished a lot and made a name for themselves.  One day you might be among them as well if you try hard enough." 

They were aligned similar, that you see them as student and as older person…

"Over here is the teachers office, so don't enter without permission or you'll get punished. And the other side of the Room you have the infirmary,  if anything happens to you. Don't worry we got Elevators to get up here as well." 

She opened the door to the next room. 

"Behind that door is the computer room, you either need staff or a permit to get in there. In the back in the room of the student counselor and the rest are just more class rooms." 

She dragged us out the room again to get to the next floor.

[charlotte-lavender]

Spring Blossoms, as does Love (pt. 3)

📷

Summary: Three months after the events of Part 2, Kuroo suggests taking the next step in his and Y/N's relationship. However, with how vehemently unkeen Y/N is about the idea, could he be hiding some insecurities from Kuroo?

A/N: Hey y'all! This series was originally going to be left off at just Part 2, but I'm excited to announce that this series will be a mainstay on the page for a while! (I'm hoping for at least ten parts) Anyway, this particular chapter is an angst -> fluff covering some more of Y/N's backstory and traumas. As always, remember I use British English, and enjoy the small time skip story! Stay safe!

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Three Months Later...

"I'm sorry Kuroo, you want me to WHAT NOW?!?" I said, raising my voice at the end of my sentence to prove a point.

"I want you to move in with me... It's hard for me to be so far from you all the time." He says, foregoing the usual suggestive tone for a more quiet mutter. Kuroo has been driving between his apartment and my house in the country nearly every day, which is at least forty-five minutes. He had recently moved into a larger apartment and was now trying to convince me to leave my shop and land for the city life.

"Please, Y/N. I want to be with you so bad but I don't have the flexibility with my job to live so far away."

"I don't know, Kuroo. I've worked hard for what I have, and I'd have to give it all up in order to be with you? I love you, but what if this whole 'relationship' thing doesn't last between us? I don't want to have everything to lose it all again, Kuroo."

"You could open a shop in the city-"

"Kuroo, just stop. I'm gonna go to bed, and you should hit the road. I don't want to talk to you about this anymore." I stand up from the chair, walking my glass to the sink.

"Y/N... okay. I love you, babe." He says, moving to give me a hug from behind. I turn around, pushing out of his arms and walking to the stairs.

"Yeah. Goodnight, Kuroo."

He gives a sad look to me as I climb the stairs before I turn my back and disappear into the dark. I hear his feet pad on the floors to the door; it creaks open and slams shut, the lock twisting as it cranks closed.

**POV SWITCH**

When I get to my car, I smash my forehead against the wheel. I knew talking about that would make Y/N angry, and I did it anyway. He must think I'm so selfish. As I pull onto the two-lane road back to the highway, I rethink the conversation, and something catches my attention that didn't before. He's worried about our relationship lasting. Pulling off to the side of the road, I turn around and drive begin the drive back to his house. I won't let this go over something as menial as moving in together. I'm above that.

**POV SWITCH**

Laying in bed, my phone buzzes. It's Kuroo: "I'm coming back. I'm sorry I left on bad terms, and I want to acknowledge some of your insecurities about our relationship. Be there in five." Just as I finished reading the text, the low rumble of an engine and the crunching of gravel alerts me of his arrival. I climb out of bed and plod down the stairs, taking my sweet time to answer the door for him. And there he is. He instantly sweeps me into a hug, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Let's go sit down and cuddle. I want to talk about this." He whispers to me. He scoops me up bridal-style and walks inside, firmly planting us on the sofa with me still in his arms.

"Now," He begins. "tell me about why you are convinced that our relationship won't last and about your fear of losing control of what you've built for yourself." I instantly tense up, freaking out. "How has he read me that well? Seriously, this guy is talented like WTF." I think to myself. "Y/N? You in there?" He asks concerningly.

"I'm fine, just...frightened. I love you a lot, and I feel that if you spent more time with me, or we took the next step together, I'd screw something up and lose you."

"Oh, dear. There is nothing you could do that could jeopardise my love for you."

"Thank you Kuroo."

"Just one final thing: what did you mean by 'you were scared to lose it all again'?"

"Oh. That." Should I tell him the truth, or... yeah, he's earned the truth from me. "Kuroo," I begin. He hums in acknowledgement. "I haven't always gotten along with my family. When I said I was scared to lose it all again, I was referring to my life before my parents split up." Kuroo's eyes widen at this revelation. I continue, "We had always had that perfect family image, and my parents worked hard to keep that up. I never told you this, but I grew up reasonably wealthy, and when my parents split, my dad lost it all—literally everything. My mom showed up with a moving truck and emptied the house, only to sell it all before she sued my father for the home and sold that too. Then, she dumped my brother and me off at the motel where my dad was living and took off, moving to California. I was only fourteen." At this point, I was crying, so Kuroo rose and walked up the stairs, gently placing me in bed before crawling in on the other side of me and pulling me in closer to him.

"I have you now, Y/N. And I want to build a life with you. I want to get married, have children," I giggle at his display of affectionate language, as well as his suggestive eye movement when he was talking. "and stay with you forever. I completely understand that you aren't ready yet, and I will wait forever and a day for you. I would move heaven and earth for you, Y/N." He pulls me tight up against him, slotting his head above mine. "Now go to sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up. From now until the end of our time here."

**POV SWITCH**

Feeling Y/N's soft breaths against my chest was enough to lull me into sleep as well. I can't believe how lucky I am to have someone like him. "I've decided," I think to myself, "to leave it all behind. He's my world. And seeing my world sad is like watching it end. I won't allow it." I'm going to move in with him, not the other way around. I wonder what he'll make for breakfast?

[ohgodmyeyes]

Dream Boy

Pairing - Ferus x Anakin

Warnings - Smut, explicit sex, NSFW, slightly dubious consent

Summary - After catching Ferus staring at him one day in the library, Anakin decides to meddle with his fellow Padawan at what may very well be the only time he displays any semblance of vulnerability.

2650 words

(xPosting this story here because I didn’t realize how shamefully uncommon this pairing is. The internet as a whole needs more Ferus/Anakin. I might have close to zero followers on tumblr, but I’m determined to do my part for these boys anyway.)

...

"What's the matter, Ferus? Like what you see?"

"Of course I don't— now quiet yourself, Anakin. I can hardly hear my own thoughts."

 ...

 The boy was insufferable. He was careless and brash, and it seemed as though he scarcely ever took the time to think before speaking or acting. He was inordinately powerful, incredibly talented (unfairly so, for as little effort as he put into excelling), and treated far better by his Master than Ferus thought he deserved.

He had also, somehow, transformed over the course of the past few years into the most beautiful young man anybody was likely to ever lay their eyes on— and yes, of course Ferus liked what he saw. Hell if he would ever have admitted it, though.

"Damnit," Ferus cursed, as he rolled over onto his side. He was alone right now, alone in his bed; however, sleep on this particular night was not coming easily to him. Or, rather, it was— but it was being ceaselessly interrupted. Interrupted by him.

It had been this way for weeks, really... since long before the cheeky little remark from Anakin in the library which had no doubt exacerbated the problem. Sometimes the two of them would be standing before one another with their lightsabers drawn, and sometimes they would even duel. Those dreams weren't so bad; they didn't cause Ferus to sit bolt upright in a hot sweat with his own arousal shamefully plaguing him. The other dreams, though...

Those dreams only served to frustrate him; vex him— upset him. Ferus hated to feel upset, because to feel upset with no recourse was a symptom of blatant immoderation.

Tonight, they'd been wrapped up in each other's arms; naked, too— entirely naked, lips pressed together and hands grabbing, caressing, feeling. Feeling everything. Ferus did not want to feel Anakin this way; didn't want to feel victimized by his own desires. He shouldn't have desires, not ones like this. He was going to be a Jedi— he had no room for wanting, particularly not the kind of wanting that Anakin had begun to inspire in him. It was inexcusable.

Inexcusable, but present. Undeniably, unabashedly present.

He let his mind run for a moment, thinking that perhaps if he did it would run itself out; run itself into the ground. Then, he could sleep. He could allow his body to prepare itself for the day ahead of it; get the rest he needed, and forget about Anakin for as long as the boy would allow. (Of course, he never allowed it for very long.)

He closed his eyes, and let the thoughts come to him; thoughts of hard kisses, and discarded robes. Thoughts of clicking teeth, and blunt, dirty fingernails scraping down his back. Thoughts of those shoulders, that chest, that ass. He'd never seen Anakin undressed for more than a few moments at a time, but those moments had been all he had needed; all he'd needed to create an ostentatiously persistent image in his mind of that infuriatingly beautiful, naked boy. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Anakin didn't even seem to know he was handsome; in fact, he took it for granted the same way he took everything else as a given. It made Ferus angry, while at the same time making him throb.

How dare Anakin make him throb.

He cursed again, because his technique had proven ineffective. He was unclothed in his bed, as he always was, although right now he wished he wasn't. If he'd worn something to bed, it would have been easier; easier for him to disregard his misplaced attraction— easier for him to go soft and go to sleep and wake up the next morning having accomplished the feat of disregarding Anakin for another few hours. He wanted nothing more than to disregard him.

He couldn't, though; not tonight— and so against his own will; against his own typically principled integrity, he reached down beneath his sheets and began to stroke himself. He did so reluctantly; disdainfully. He was glad no one would ever have to know, because if anyone had known he was touching himself to thoughts of Anakin Skywalker, then he might as well have just gone ahead and died. His feral attraction to the younger boy made him want to crawl beneath a rock and never come out, such was his objection to Anakin's disposition.

He moaned, which he hated; after that, the very tip of his engorgement started to leak onto his own stomach, which he hated even more. He squeezed tightly and started to pick up his pace, because he wanted this to be over; over as soon as possible.

That was when he heard a voice... and not just any voice.

"You lied to me," said Anakin, stepping out of the shadows. He wasn't dressed; why would he be dressed? He didn't need clothes for what he planned on doing tonight.

"Get out of here!" Ferus cried, glad of the fact that his sheet was still pulled up. His shock, he thought, should have quelled his body's excitement; however, it didn't.

"I was right, wasn't I?" Anakin was smirking; Ferus hated his smirk. It was as intolerable as the rest of him.

"I'm sure you think you were," Ferus started, "but—"

"You were dreaming about me again," Anakin said matter-of-factly, already having started to skulk up to the side of the bed to look down on the young man who purported to dislike him.

"I was not— I mean, my dreams are none of your—"

"Shh. Wouldn't you like them to come true? Wouldn't that make you happy?" Anakin spoke coyly; demurely. It went with his smirk. He climbed up onto the end of the bed with his knees and started to crawl; he crawled until he was straddling Ferus, and the two of them were face-to-face. He could feel Ferus' shame poking up from under the sheet, brushing up against him. Anakin liked that he could make him feel this way.

Ferus should have shoved Anakin and he knew it; should have shoved him right off the bed and off of himself and onto the cold, hard floor. But he didn't. "Anakin," he said instead, "if you're the one who's been—"

"Of course it was me," grinned the younger of the two. "It's always been me." He'd been sneaking into Ferus' dreams for a while now; it wasn't a skill he'd mastered yet, but it was certainly one he'd been working at developing, for this precise purpose. "I see the way you look at me— everyone sees it."

Surely that couldn't be true. Ferus disdained Anakin; disdained everything about him. "I don't know where you ever got the idea that—"

"Shut up," Anakin interrupted, and all of a sudden those lips and those teeth and that infuriating, constantly-wagging tongue were upon Ferus; probing, pressing, and clicking about just as they had been in the dream— dreams— he'd tried so hard to will away. Could this merely have been one of those? Could it be that Ferus was still asleep, and that none of this was real? He'd have much preferred that, of course, but...

"Let's get this sheet off of you," Anakin said, after pulling away. He sat up high on his knees after that so he could remove the only thing between the two of them; the only thing stopping their bodies from pressing wantonly against one another. Once he'd shifted to discard the fluttering swath of white entirely to the floor, he crawled back down the bed a bit. After flashing Ferus an antagonizingly lovely grin, he enveloped the source of the older boy's frustration with his mouth.

"Anakin!" shouted Ferus, but he didn't move— didn't kick or recoil or roll away.

"What?" asked Anakin, through his mouthful of cock.

He didn't get an answer to that, so instead he went to work. He bobbed and licked, and swallowed at the tip as he forced his mouth down as far as he could make it go. He swirled his tongue around Ferus' head when he came up, and let his teeth clip his shaft as he went back down. He had been hard and wet since before Ferus had noticed his presence, and this only intensified his enthusiasm: He could feel himself thrumming and pulsing, and dripping eagerly onto the bed.

Ferus had never liked him; had always resented him. It was all pure jealousy, Anakin thought, of his power; his skill. Some of the other Padawans feared him, but Ferus had never seemed fearful— just willfully and unrelentingly indignant. Anakin wasn't much more fond of the older boy than the older boy was of him; however, even he had to acknowledge that both his appearance and lofty sense of utter superiority were strangely entrancing.

Besides that, he couldn't think of a better way to get under Ferus' skin than to force him to acknowledge that he wanted this.

Soon he became certain of the fact that Ferus was not too far from losing control of himself; from letting this end altogether too soon. He didn't want that, and besides, he hadn't had his own turn yet: He hadn't come here for the sole purpose of sucking on Ferus' dick. That would have been boring.

"Not yet," Anakin scolded, and he pulled his head back, exposing his rival to the room's cool air. That made Ferus shout again, and buck his hips. "You love this, don't you?" Anakin teased, pumping himself with his hand as he sat back up on his knees. He'd slicked his own cock generously after undressing, prior to Ferus' having woken to those unwanted thoughts of his. He was more than ready to take what he'd actually come for.

Ferus was starting to feel frightened, but not of Anakin— no, he was frightened of himself. Anakin was right; he did like this. He liked it very much, to the point where those lips pulling away from his cock had upset him perhaps more than his dreams had in the first place. He wanted to come, and he wanted Anakin to make him do it.

He hated himself for feeling that way, but it was what it was.

"What are you going to do, Anakin?" he asked, staring up at that body he'd already fantasized about more times than he cared to count.

"I'm going to fuck you, Ferus— would you like me to fuck you?"

At those words, Ferus felt himself pulse. In lieu of answering, he adjusted his body; pulled his knees up beside his ears. He felt like screaming, crying, and going off all at the same time. Everything about this was emblematic of the exact lack of restraint he loathed.

"Someone's eager, aren't they?" chuckled Anakin, venturing to tease Ferus' hole with one of his fingers, to which the older boy let out a desperate whimper. "You hate me for being right all the time— do you hate me for being right about this, too?" At that he gripped himself by the very base of his cock, and leaned in closely to prod at Ferus with his erection.

Now that they were nearly nose-to-nose, Ferus found it in himself to growl, "You're damn right I do."

That made Anakin laugh again, and finally begin to ease himself inside. He went slowly; he had no desire to actually hurt Ferus— he was, essentially, just here to make a point.

Once he was buried up to his sack, he took a deep and shuddering breath, because while he'd always called Ferus a tightass behind his back, he'd never known just how accurate the descriptor actually was. "You feel like heaven," he breathed, and then he started to buck his hips.

Ferus wanted to cry out; indeed, his instinct was to shout, but he didn't want to give Anakin that kind of satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his jaw and pursed his lips and stared upward as he felt himself be ravaged from the inside. It felt incredible; better than his own fingers, and better than anything he'd ever slipped into his pocket to play with in what should have been the privacy of his own room.

"Touch yourself," commanded Anakin. He knew Ferus wanted to.

"This is in direct violation of—"

"Shut up," Anakin demanded once again, this time with a particularly hard thrust. Ferus obeyed; stopped talking, and reached between the two of them to start to stroke himself just as he'd been doing beneath the sheets, before he'd registered Anakin's presence. How the hell had the boy hidden from him in the first place, anyway? He supposed that was a question for another time.

They went on like this for as long as they both could bear it; soon, Anakin felt his own climax coming on. He bit down on his lip, moaned through his teeth, and burst heartily; more heartily than he ever had when he'd been alone, in his own bed. He looked straight into Ferus' eyes as he did; saw them squeeze shut as he, too, reached his own shuddering peak.

"Anakin," Ferus growled, as he felt his own essence shoot all over the smooth, taut skin on his stomach.

"Ferus," Anakin cooed, revelling in the sound of his own name as he leaned in more closely to steal another kiss.

Their tongues danced as they each finished; finally, Anakin withdrew his cock, but he didn't quit probing Ferus' mouth. Simply put, it felt far too good to stop right away. Eventually, of course, he had to; he was very nearly out of breath. Ferus, for his part, had only just realized that he was holding his.

As they separated, Anakin sat back up on his knees, perhaps a bit unsteadily. He noticed Ferus scowling, and so he asked with a broad grin, "What's wrong? Don't you like it when your dreams come true?"

"Not this dream," Ferus barked, and he finally hoisted himself up from between Anakin's knees and into a seated position. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to shove Anakin away as he ought to have when this debacle had initiated itself; however, there wouldn't have been any point in doing that: He'd already had nearly every ounce of his control over himself wrenched away; he wasn't about to concede his anger, and give up the rest of it. Then he'd be no better than Anakin.

As it turned out, though, he didn't have to do anything— before he could think of what to say next, his intruder had jumped off of his bed and gone back to that darkened corner from which he'd first come into view. His clothes, apparently, had been sitting there in a pile; Ferus watched as he started to put them back on.

"What you just did was inexcusable," he said, with as much dignity as he could possibly muster.

"You mean what we just did," retorted Anakin, as he adjusted his robes and smoothed his pants.

Ferus clenched his fists, but didn't say another word as Anakin laughed at him one more time, turned, and sauntered casually out of the room; back to his own quarters, and to his own bed. He would certainly sleep well that night— not only did he feel more physically satisfied than he perhaps ever had, but Anakin also simply loved being proven right.

Ferus would rest soundly, too. In spite of his anger, and in spite of everything that had just happened (seemingly in the blink of an eye), he finally felt relieved; palliated— for tonight, at least, he knew he would be free of his dreams... those dreams.

Even so, as he listened to Anakin's footsteps disappear down the corridor, his disquieting words from the library echoed in Ferus’ mind: "What's the matter, Ferus? Like what you see?"

He feared he'd never again be able to convincingly deny that he did.

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/8/2020: PELICAN BLOOD (2019)

If you are reading this and the present date is between October 8 and 11 of 2020, please consider buying a virtual ticket to see Katrin Gebbe’s PELICAN BLOOD, available on demand through the Nightstream festival:

https://watch.eventive.org/nightstream/play/5f6e7e78d6a9bf0036613fa3

I am about to discuss this movie and its conclusion in great detail, but it would be much better for a person to come to it in innocence--not because it’s so reliant on anything as gauche as surprise, but because it is so thoroughly excellent that wading through a movie review first would be like letting your dinner grow cold. And, it simply deserves our support.

When I saw PELICAN BLOOD last year at Fantastic Fest, it became one of my favorite movies before it was even over. I might admit that this was sort of a match made in heaven, as this movie checks almost every one of my personal boxes, but I don’t think my assessment of its value is a simple matter of personal prejudice. I’ve been haunted by it all these months, and deeply worried that somehow I might never see it again. When I discovered that it had landed on Nightstream, I was over the moon.

This is writer-director Katrin Gebbe's second feature, a fact that will astonish you when you see it. Last Blogtober, I wrote about her first feature TORE TANZT, which has the troubling english title NOTHING BAD CAN HAPPEN. That intense indie drama concerns a born-again christian punk who wishes for an opportunity to prove his devotion to god, and finds it in the form of a family that invites him in off the streets, and then proceeds to torture him. That's an oversimplification of what actually occurs, but it is a film that's hard to be brief about. It's cheap and a little rough around the edges, but it is deliberate, intense, and difficult to forget. (In fact it's supposed to be based on a true story, although I haven't managed to pick up that trail) When I first saw it, it certainly made me wonder what else that director might be up to, and I was astounded when I found out. 2019's PELICAN BLOOD emerged six years after TORE TANZT, with little in between besides a television episode and a segment in the anthology THE FIELD GUIDE TO EVIL, and yet Gebbe's artistic evolution is dumbfounding. Her themes are all unmistakably present--faith versus doubt, mystical versus metaphorical experience, and physical martyrdom--but exploded into a grand, elegant psychodrama that holds the viewer captive every minute of its two hours.

Celebrated german actress Nina Hoss plays Wiebke, a stable owner who trains police horses to tolerate the frightening conditions of a riot. She lives at the edge of her pasture, raising her tween daughter Nicolina (Adelia-Constance Giovanni Ocleppo) on her own. Wiebke has a talent for healing the wounded, or perhaps it's more of a calling; she raised Nicolina, a bulgarian orphan, into a bright, balanced, emotionally available tomboy, and the two of them joyfully anticipate the arrival of Nicolina's new adoptive sister. When little Raya arrives (Katerina Lipovska), she first presents as sweet, even solicitous, needing only a mother's love to fully bloom. However, as soon as she determines that she is welcome and wanted, she undergoes a disturbing transformation into a violent and unpredictable creature, possessed by an abject hatred. Wiebke recognizes that her new child is seriously traumatized, which activates her sense of purpose, and she pledges herself fully to the child's recovery--despite the admonishments of Raya's daycare, her doctors, and virtually everyone around them, that the little girl is beyond all but clinical help, and even that promises no guarantee of salvation. Refusing to give up, Wiebke makes a series of increasingly dangerous personal sacrifices in Raya's name, until finally she finds herself at the doorway to what some consider another world, but what is to others only madness.

Gebbe won Best Director in the main competition at Fantastic Fest, and it would have been a crime if this were otherwise. Her control over what are essentially forces of nature is humbling. Extracting a profoundly moving drama from a cast of adult actors is challenging enough on its own, but to get these terrifyingly convincing performances from children, evoking deep trauma and physical violence to self and others, is another level. As if this weren't enough, Gebbe adds animals into the mix, giving the story of Raya a parallel in the troubled career of a police horse who is considered a lost cause by all but Wiebke. The training scenes in which Wiebke guides the volatile animal through fire and smoke, while her own lifeforce is being progressively depleted by her new child, are as harrowing as anything having to do with parenthood, and Wiebke seems to take the horse just as seriously as her child. Friendly single dad Benedikt (Murathan Muslu) tries to flirt with the trainer by remarking on her unusual career, but she spits bitterly, "The horses are not the problem," giving us a glimpse of the philosophy that drives her.

Another of my favorite german films is Werner Herzog's 1976 short NO ONE WILL PLAY WITH ME. This funny and poignant story involves a bullied and neglected little boy, and it is preceded by a card displaying the adage "There are no bad children, only bad parents." This is the principle that drives Wiebke in work and life: Those who are seen as failures, have been failed by others. One has the sense that Wiebke sees herself in these wretches. She has no partner, and balks at questions about her relationship history, shying from physical affection even with people she knows and likes. A tell-tale scar graces one cheekbone; when she finally begins to welcome the benign Benedikt's advances, he strokes it instead of kissing her, acknowledging that he can see who she really is.

Wiebke tries to extend this same empathy toward Raya, refusing to let the child bait her into wrath and rejection. However, this show of pure faith and tolerance does not work, and the right approach becomes less clear as Raya begins to blame her mounting acts of vandalism, arson and assault on an evil entity that controls her will. A psychiatrist aprises Wiebke that this is the "magic period", in which the child uses magical thinking to divert feelings of guilt and responsibility. But, after a fashion, Wiebke begins to sense this malevolent presence as well. Is this etheric intrusion real? Or is she beginning to empathize with the child--with the experience of grappling with a damaged part of yourself--to the point of dissolving boundaries?

The title of the movie refers to a fable about a pelican whose chicks die, and she resurrects them by feeding them her own blood. This is a clear metaphor for Wiebke's trial with Raya, that becomes shockingly literal when, after endangering her home and relationships by prioritizing the new child, Wiebke places her own health on the line by taking an unregulated drug to give herself a bizarre advantage. When Wiebke discovers the shocking nature of Raya's original trauma, she experiments with the radical idea of treating the girl like a little baby, hoping to start from square one with her capacity to be mothered, and in the service of this dreadful proposition, Wiebke starts taking a lactation-inducing pill that proves to be an immediate risk to her health, and puts her in an even more perilous position with Raya.

Although it focuses on a preternaturally devoted mother, PELICAN BLOOD recalls what makes movies like HEREDITARY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN so potent. We have the idea that in becoming parents, we are perpetuating our own essence, extending our history and celebrating the precious connection of blood, which is supposed to impart an automatic same-ness. Unfortunately, this only shakes out to arrogance for many, denying the quirks of psychology, chemistry, and the unique impact of trauma--even if minor, or explainable as something benign--on a mind too young to fully comprehend the nature of the experience. Even without abuse in the home, anyone can have a child less like themselves than they could have ever imagined, for reasons beyond their own control. In all this, the child is innocent, and it is the duty of the parent to prioritize the child's feelings, over the vanity of wanting an heir to your own best qualities. Wiebke sacrifices not only her vanity, but potentially her very life, to show Raya love. When this blood sacrifice does not work, Wiebke finds herself facing the realm of alternative belief as a last resort.

The introduction of PELICAN BLOOD's folk horror element can seem a little left field, if you haven't noted the clues scattered throughout the film. Before the revelation of Raya's boogeyman, Wiebke begins to discover evidence of an old pagan tradition still being practiced around her proverbial neck of the woods. Soon, she tentatively entrusts herself and her child to a local witch, who puts them through a harrowing exorcism. Though the process is uncertain at first, its impact forces Wiebke into a direct acknowledgment of the entity harassing her daughter. And ultimately, it awakens in Raya a capacity for love.

While the reality of the supernatural in PELICAN BLOOD remains in question, I think the effect of this ambiguity is specifically meaningful. I usually scoff at any type of "was it all a dream?" nonsense, as this is a tactic employed by directors who think their greatest accomplishment should be getting one over on the audience. I don't see any inherent value in simply reversing the apparent meaning of things, just to make people feel stupid--and worse, this has trained modern audiences to try to defensively predict the least likely ending to any story, instead of just engaging with it emotionally as it plays out. For this reality-bending trick to be worth anything, one must be able to answer questions like, IF this was all a dream, THEN what meaning is added to the story?

In PELICAN BLOOD, the unresolved question of whether magic is real is of great relevance to the whole concept of belief. Human beings crave extranormal experience; we're deeply attracted to tales of ghosts, UFOs, mythical creatures, and parapsychological abilities. Even the skeptics among us enjoy arguing about these things, and many regular folks without eccentric interests read their horoscope "just for fun". Most telling of all is the enduring popularity of stories about the strange and unusual, which require no particular belief system from the audience; the fantasy of this extra dimension to our mundane lives is just so satisfying. Despite all the pleasure we get from these ideas, though, we tend to cling first and foremost to objective truth; we tell ourselves that if there is no "proof", then an outrageous thing cannot exist. But, this is actually contrary to many of our lived experiences. On the basest level, we delight at videos of insane parkour stunts, at the same time that we say these guys are "like" superheroes, but are actually just guys. My question is, what's the difference? If a person can achieve physical feats that most of us can never imagine attempting, then what difference does it make that this person was not bitten by a radioactive spider? If a fortune teller in a carnival is so good at "cold reading" strangers that she gives the effect of being able to read minds, then what is the appreciable difference between a carny and a "real psychic"? If a faith healer "just convinces" someone to become free from a chronic ailment, and the patient goes on to live a happier life, who cares if no "real magic" was in evidence? What is the difference between exorcism and hypnosis, if the end result is the same for a seriously disturbed child and her mother? The only difference appears to be some material confirmation of specific mystical forces and substances--which, admittedly, would be exciting on its own--but this would still only be an alternative version of the events that led up to the same "miraculous" result. We only worry about the existence of God and magic because our definitions of these things tend to be limited to what we think of as literal and scientific. But, if the correct effects manifest themselves, then all that is purely cosmetic. Belief is real. Faith works.

[rosalisergici-blog]

Goshka Macuga, Heidegger, 2018 Gomma siliconica e pianta. 30 cm

“.......dal letame nascono i fior....” Fabrizio De Andrè

ognuno ha il suo fiore......*r.

[areluctantsblog]

Music AU - part 1

Au where Tony Stark is a music producer & the owner of Avengers Entertainment, Peter is a multi-instrumentalist British jazz musician and War Machine is a progmetal band. In other words the starker fic in which Peter smirks a lot and Tony remains astonishingly oblivious for a long time.

All characters 18+

(If anyone’s interested, here’s what i was listening to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/user/tdaehi9xumogtle8iljnpahpi/playlist/00rIJxgBEZDRHV5dUh1iMB)

Enjoy :)

Morning

Waking up feeling drained and with a mild headache, Tony Stark half regrets having fallen asleep at all. He prefers an all-nighter to jet-lag anytime, even if he has an important business meeting in the afternoon.

Deciding that more sleep would only make him feel worse, Tony gets up. When, even through the haze of exhaustion, his mind manages to conjure up the image of the coffee shop he saw across the street last night, his worries that jet-lag seriously damaged his cognitive functions ebb away. The promise of almost-immediate caffeine intake and the possibility of avoiding the hotel restaurant – which Tony does most of the times – make it almost easy to drag himself through his morning routine.

As he walks toward the café half an hour later, Tony passes a music shop and sees a handsome young man enter. The sight almost wakes him up properly – something that a cold shower and the crispy winter air couldn’t achieve – but Tony shakes his head and goes for his coffee first. On his way back, however, he can’t resist entering the music shop. The young man’s still there, conversing with the shopkeeper. A regular, it would seem. He wears a suspiciously bespoke-looking deep navy-blue coat. Tony is more intrigued by the minute.

The shopkeeper turns towards him, but Tony waves a hand to signal that he’s good. The conversation picks up and Tony pays careful attention to every world he can hear. Meanwhile he registers the truly remarkable variety of vinyl, music sheets, instruments and accessories the shop offers. When Tony feels sure he’s heard enough to join the conversation, he picks up a random vinyl from the display table and walks over to the counter.

Both men look at him. Tony puts the vinyl down.

“I’ll take this, please.” Then he turns towards Peter. “And, excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing…” Tony thinks he captures the exact moment when his perfect charming smile starts working on Peter. It’s subtle, surprise flashing across his face and an almost imperceptible squint of his eyes, but Tony’s been around for a long time and had both reason and opportunity to learn to read people. “Do you propose, did I get it right? to put hammers? in a piano? It sounds remarkable, would you mind elaborating?”

Tony noticed him glance at the shopkeeper when he praised him, and for a second, they both looked amused, but Peter’s answering smile can’t be described anything but carefully polite.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind, Mr Stark,” he says eventually, inclining his head slightly.

Tony’s surprise at being recognised by the young man must show on his face, because the shopkeeper chuckles.

“We know our music around here, Mr Stark, especially Peter. It’s an honour to have you here, ” he extends his hand and Tony shakes it. The man’s name is Yinsen, which Tony finds vaguely familiar but cannot place at the moment. He’s too excited to find out who the intriguing young man – Peter – is.

Tony remotely notices how good it feels to touch him while they shake hands, but he’s mainly struggling to get back on top the situation, because Peter Parker is definitely smirking now and Tony for the love of God can’t figure why. He comes to his senses when he hears Mr Yinsen speak.

“Will you be needing my assistance with anything else, Mr Stark?”

“No, let me just… how much?”

He pays for the vinyl – it’s one of his own productions, he notices, annoyed – and thanks the man. He’s not confident that his charm has worked exactly the way he intended, so instead of just walking away and expecting Peter to follow him, he actually looks at the man with an enquiring expression.

“After you, Mr Stark,” the young man replies and damn if his voice isn’t honey. “Goodbye, Mr Yinsen. Oh, and I’ll fetch those strings at around 6, if it suits you.”

They exit the shop and Tony inhales deeply. The woody scent of the shop still lingers and as it mixes with the chilly air, Tony gives himself over to the sensation. Then the moment passes, and he realises, they haven’t moved. Peter’s looking at him politely, but his gaze is otherwise unreadable.

“I avoid hotel cafés and restaurants if I can, so I’m open to suggestions,” Tony says.

Peter nods. “I think I know just the place. How do you feel about books, Mr Stark?”

“I’m sensing some serious European vibe,” Tony quips. “Show the way.”

Peter smiles and stars walking.

“So, what is it that you do?” Tony asks as they turn the corner. He can’t help himself, the boy’s idea is the most interesting he’s heard lately, and he needs to find out more about him. About it. Well, really, both if he wants him. To sign a contract, that is.

“I play music,” the young man offers. “I have a band for live gigs, but I mostly write my own music. I also collaborate with other artist.”

“What kind of music?” Tony asks. The boy’s appearance has classical written all over it, but his attitude suggests something unrulier. Something that would explain the cheeky confidence he emanates despite his ivory skinned, wide-eyed British exquisiteness.

“Mainly jazz, but I like experimenting with other things too.”

Jazz. Of course. Tony notices the young man looking at him, waiting for his reaction. So, Peter not only knows his name, but also is familiar with what he does. Sure, jazz isn’t metal, but honestly how could he not be interested?

“Just my luck. I’ll try to keep up though…” Tony smiles. Peter smirks, but doesn’t reply.

After a few steps – his lithe movement really is something to behold – Peter stops and enters a classy looking place. Tony walks in after him and immediately likes the dark panelled room, the deep cherry and blue wallpaper and the stuffed bookshelves. Even though it would never be his first choice, he understands at once why Peter likes it. Tony pushes back the frightening realisation that somehow in barely half an hour, things and places started to feel like this stranger.

The barman greets Peter politely and they take a seat next to the French windows. It feels oddly intimate, not exposed at all, yet Tony still chooses to sit with his back to the street. When their waiter arrives with two menus, Peter turns to him immediately.

“Thank you, would you mind just putting them down, please?”

Tony is speechless. He was mentally preparing to be handed something and wishing with all his might that he could resist flinching and then this, this complete stranger goes out of his way to save him from it. When the waiter walks away, Tony says quietly:

“Thank you.” The ‘How did you know?’ goes unsaid, but Peter seems to read it from his gaze.

“I noticed that Mr Yinsen didn’t hand you the change and since he knows everyone worth knowing better than anyone I know… well I took a guess.”

Tony feels a bit shaken, but Peter’s smile, that is gentle for the first time, reassures him.

“You guessed right,” he says finally. Then to steer the exchange towards safer grounds he adds. “We’ll see how quick our waiter friend is on the uptake.”

Peter hums. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that here.”

Even though the twinkle of Peter’s eyes is far too knowing, Tony lets out a relaxed laugh. They choose their drinks in silence and it gives enough time for Tony to go back from anxious to intrigued. Once they’ve placed their orders, he leans closer to Peter and says:

“Now, Mr Parker, tell me for real this time who you are and what you do.”

Peter chuckles. “While I’m flattered, Mr Stark, I really don’t know what else to say.”

It’s infuriating how he appears to be completely honest. It’s reflects the perfect mixture of modesty and confidence that Tony recognises from true and rare professionals. Tony lets out a frustrated groan but before he can say anything rash, their drinks arrive. Tony is grateful for the interruption, for it gives him a few moments to think. Strategy, he needs strategy. He might as well have stumbled upon some young prodigy, the next genius of jazz and if so, he simply can’t let him slip through his fingers.

“I’ll take it that you are a pianist?” Tony prompts.

“Well, I play the piano, the double-bass, the saxophone, the guitar, some percussion, but I prefer to edit my rhythms and noises on a computer.” He says it all so nonchalantly, that Tony needs to make an effort not to gape at him. Still, he’s a moment too late in responding and something both amused, and apologetic appears in Peter’s expression.

“So, when you said earlier that you write your own music, you also meant that you record it all by yourself as well, didn’t you?”

"Most of the time, yes, but sometimes my band helps."

“Do you have a name?” Tony asks unthinkingly and he realises his blunder as soon as he sees irritation flash through Peter’s face.

“Sorry if it’s not showbiz enough, but you already know it, Mr Stark.” He’s tone is mocking, but Tony feels there is an edge to it.

“It’s not a bad name. How come I haven’t heard it before? Young prodigy and all that.”

“Come now, Mr Stark, do you put such great trust in every no name stranger you meet?" The young man seems amused and there is also something very much like satisfaction in the hint of a smirk he wears. Despite his light tone, however, Tony still feels embarrassed. He almost started explaining himself. Almost…

“Only those whom I catch talking about hacking an instrument,” Tony winks at Peter but then turns more serious. “So what’s your story? Someone must have realised your talent early on.”

“Maybe they have, I don't know. In my family, it’s quite usual for children to learn to play an instrument. At first, I had music teachers, but then I've taught myself. Actually, I tried to avoid being discovered. I've spent my whole life surrounded by music and I've learnt early on to tell if someone still enjoys playing or have burnt out on their way to fame. I didn't want to burn out. Still don't."

Tony huffs, shaking his head in both disbelief and fascination. The boy is becoming more of an enigma by the minute. Rarely has Tony encountered such disinterested honesty and he hasn’t even realised that he missed it.

Peter just smiles at him and sips his tea. All of a sudden, Tony finds himself devoid of all disguises. His skin is tingling with some new and rousing sensation. For a few minutes he feels, rather than sees the young man before him and he’s still busy trying to unravel the effect Peter has on him when the young man speaks again.

"So,” Peter begins tentatively. “Would you like to talk some more about my plans for the grand piano?"

Tony nods eagerly. "Yes, please."

Their conversation lasts for over an hour. They discuss Peter's idea and Tony may not have been so excited since War Machine' s debut album. He can't refrain from making suggestions even though they don't work together. He hopes it’s only a matter a time before they do. Tony's engrossed and he's dying to hear Peter play and to see his ideas come to life.

He might even have forgotten his meeting, the one that was actually scheduled for him there, in London, if it wasn’t for Peter suddenly announcing that he has to leave. He stands up swiftly and before Tony can figure out a way to ask him to meet again, he’s already taken his coat. Before leaving though, Peter steps back to their table, places a note under his saucer then stops in front of Tony with hand outstretched.

Tony is breathless as he stands up – they are so close now – and accepts the handshake. They stand like this for a moment longer, eyes locked, excitement, curiosity and something more, something perplexing flicker between them. From a distant corner of his mind Tony hears the faint voice of his rationality tell him to ask Peter when they can meet again, but he seems to have become temporarily speechless. Peter lets go of his hand and walks to the door. Before stepping out, however, he looks back.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” the feigned innocence of his voice is betrayed by his smirk. “I play tonight at 8 on the Steamer. I wouldn’t mind if you came.”

He leaves and doesn’t look back to see the grin that spreads on Tony’s face despite the twirling mess of panic, relief, anticipation, confusion, desire, impatience and self-consciousness inside him.

[Disclaimer: Peter’s idea is not his, nor mine. I was inspired by the amazing duo called Grandbrothers. Check them out, it’s the perfect music for this fic.]

There's a part2 now (11-02-19)

[chandachengojr]

☝️"Don't waste your time with 🗣explainations, 👥people only hear what they want to hear.

When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you but merely opening your hands to receive something better.

- "There's nothing wrong with the African mind☝️. Our problem is the African mindset."••

- "🤷Why settle for good, when better is available?"••

- "The complacency of success is the first step to mediocrity."

- “Learn to think for yourself🙄, otherwise somebody will do the thinking for you."••

- “Those who read are those who lead✊.”

- “Lead by actions, and not by directions.”

- "To change the world, you must first be changed."

- "👉Discouragement is my encouragement👈."

- “The Bible is the inspired Word of God😇. . . . Let us study the Bible, for if we do so we shall find rest for our souls."

- "Just because a housefly wears a bow-tie or a skirt doesn't mean you should marry it😶."

- " The kisses of this world are like the kisses of Judas. They are kisses of betrayal and of death👎.”

- “Our wounds may be painful🤕😭, but wounds can heal😏. We may have ugly scars, but scars don’t bleed. Our Lord was also wounded, and He is scarred forever.”

- "✊Excellence is a Christian obligation. To settle for anything less is a denial of faith."...

- “🤷Why be a chicken🐓, when you can be an eagle🦅?”••

- "Radical commitment stops at nothing in its devotion. It gives its very best to the cause it professes. It is willing to sacrifice everything and suffer anything. And it is faithful, even unto death. It's time to be radical."••🙄

- “The culture of our times does not, in general, reward unpopular courage☝️—except long after those displaying such courage have passed from the scene. 😏How easy it is to honor the heroes of yesteryear from our safe harbors today! 🤔🤔How comfortable it is to marry cowards than to be widows of principled nonconformists! 🤗And how secure it is to be sheltered in the shade of apathy than to be burned by the battle for right.”••

- “Leaders need foresight👀 and insight. Foresight provides the scope of vision🙌. Insight discerns the perspective👌.”••

- "Without vision👀, sight is blind👁😩."••

- “Setbacks shouldn’t set you back☝️. They’re stepping stones. Step on the stones and you’ll move upward and forward ➡ .”••

- “We learn almost nothing in victory; but we learn much in defeat,” a football coach once said. °"I agree. For, when we take time to learn from our mistakes, success has no choice but to fall flat at the feet of failure."° Let’s give success no choice. How? #GRACIOUSLY accept your defeat; #HUMBLY admit your failures; #COURTEOUSLY offer no excuses for your faults; #WILLINGLY accept the consequences of your mistakes; #ARDENTLY learn from your missteps; and #FULLY surrender your hopes to God’s will. Success wins by falling at the feet of failure."••

- "Nations rise and fall, but the saints fall and rise! All other human beings first live and die, but Jesus Christ died and lives. It’s all a matter of sequence. The fulcrum is He Who was born for the falling and rising of many.”••

- "It is far more important to spend time WITH #Christ than to do things FOR Christ. A quiet moment with the Lord is far more valuable than service for the Lord. The kitchens of life have many important things for us to do, but our most urgent need is receiving Life in the living room of Christ.”••

- “Today is the last day of yesterday and the first day of tomorrow. It’s the conclusion to yesterday’s chapter and the introduction to your new book. Why dwell on a written past, when you can write the future today?”••

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. But, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves

°°"Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?"°° Actually, who are you not to be?

Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do. It's not just in some of us; It's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we're liberated from our own fear,

Our presence automatically liberates others.!!

#PresidentChengoJr.™

✨#TheFutureIsNDP🇿🇲👏

[volchi]

Working with St Marta as a man I know all the online videos about her are like "well there should be no difference working with her if youre a boy just dont be an asshole" like thats just it is pretty misleading to tell u the truth. Going into it know that men wont get very far with her with weakness. I came to her once like "hey, somebody took advantage of me, please help me" and her response was essentially "so? It happens." It was until I proved to her that I was going to be a pain in the ass that she helped me, but she did so in stride and it was better than anything i could have imagined. She wanted me to prove myself basically. It caught me off guard at times because i assumed as a male dominating spirit, even though i am a man she responded the best to my own assertiveness, like immediate auspiciousness and success after playing chicken, etc. Which is like ok thats weird like why does she do that? why does she respond to "bullying" like that when she could honestly send me straight to hell so fast it would make my head spin? And it hit me like... jesus christ. She is training me. xjzkfkjzjd like as a really introverted person who has a hard time telling people off, somebody who fawns defensively and is too agreeable and does end up being taken advantage of because of these qualities, she did want to help me and she did despise other worse men who abused me but she wasn't going to do all of my work for me, she wanted to see me become a better magician as well as a stronger man, a more justified person, she wanted that quiet confidence. She's not an indiscriminate male dominator but I was still subservient to her and she used this control that was her talent to my benefit. Whenever i would display that confidence, that strength she was looking for, she'd throw me a bone like training a dog. Weakness and relapsing to my old habits did not get far with her whatsoever. And yeah it's rough as hell going in and she would sometimes take very frightening paths to make sure i became the person i was supposed to be. St Marta has a very very strict no bitch boys policy. If you get her, you get her and if you don't, you don't.

[melindidupreez200182-blog]

Don't be frightened to display your talents

Sunday, 27 September 2020

Week 2

I got the chance to mess around on my father's CAD programs at the age of 14, and from then on I realised I had a gift in product design. I wanted to design a 3D for this creative product, highlighting my talents. It felt super strange being 14 with a CAD designing talent, everyone at school has netball, rugby, and acting skills, it felt like my talent was too out of the ordinary, so I kept it a secret. For a few years, I quit designing on CAD because I felt my talent was not true talent. After all, it was different. My parents encouraged me to take the architectural subject in school knowing it's a subject I will shine in. I did very well in this subject and finally began designing on CAD again. Quick forward to today, today at Open Window I'm studying 3D modelling and enjoying it, it's my best subject, and for a long time, I see myself doing this I advise you not to hide your gifts like I did only because they're different from others. Be proud and show your talents, all gifts are distinct, that's what makes them exceptional. This week I presented the prompt (don't be frightened to display your talent) by showcasing my talents in the creative product I'm busy designing during this term. I started to create a pencil holder on the CAD program and plan on improving each week and making changes along the way.

[elementalan76]

Courage!

Over‌ ‌the‌ ‌past‌ ‌few‌ ‌weeks,‌ ‌I‌ ‌have‌ ‌mentioned‌ ‌different‌ ‌topics.‌ ‌Such‌ ‌as:‌ ‌Don't‌ ‌be‌ ‌frightened‌ ‌to‌ ‌display‌ ‌your‌ ‌talents,‌ ‌give‌ ‌way‌ ‌to‌ ‌your‌ ‌worst‌ ‌impulse‌ ‌and‌ ‌to‌ ‌abandon‌ ‌normal‌ ‌instruments.‌ 

‌ ‌But‌ ‌today‌ ‌as‌ ‌this‌ ‌is‌ ‌my‌ ‌last‌ ‌blog‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌term,‌ ‌I‌ ‌am‌ ‌talking‌ ‌about‌ ‌courage.‌ ‌Once‌ ‌you‌ ‌have‌ ‌completed‌ ‌all‌ ‌your‌ ‌work,‌ ‌made‌ ‌your‌ ‌designs‌ ‌and‌ ‌written‌ ‌your‌ ‌poems,‌ ‌you‌ ‌need‌ ‌the‌ ‌courage‌ ‌to‌ ‌place‌ ‌it‌ ‌all‌ ‌online‌ ‌for‌ ‌many‌ ‌to‌ ‌see‌ ‌and‌ ‌for‌ ‌many‌ ‌to‌ ‌judge.‌ ‌At‌ ‌this‌ ‌point‌ ‌in‌ ‌life‌ ‌we‌ ‌as‌ ‌artists‌ ‌have‌ ‌to‌ ‌take‌ ‌up‌ ‌courage‌ ‌to‌ ‌post‌ ‌what‌ ‌we‌ ‌have‌ ‌done,‌ ‌due‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌possibility‌ ‌of‌ ‌receiving‌ ‌backlash‌ ‌and‌ ‌judgment‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌work‌ ‌we‌ ‌have‌ ‌done.‌ ‌That‌ ‌is‌ ‌to‌ ‌me‌ ‌the‌ ‌most‌ ‌difficult‌ ‌part‌ ‌of‌ ‌any‌ ‌project,‌ ‌not‌ ‌the‌ ‌work‌ ‌itself‌ ‌but‌ ‌what‌ ‌comes‌ ‌after.‌ 

‌ ‌For‌ ‌this‌ ‌week‌ ‌I‌ ‌have‌ ‌finalized‌ ‌my‌ ‌car‌ ‌that‌ I ‌made‌ ‌in‌ ‌Blender,‌ ‌now‌ I‌ ‌am‌ ‌not‌ ‌very‌ ‌good‌ ‌at‌ ‌modeling‌ ‌vehicles‌ ‌or‌ ‌really‌ ‌much‌ ‌anything‌ ‌else‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌program,‌ ‌but‌ I have‌ ‌tried‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌have‌ ‌to‌ ‌admit‌ ‌that I ‌have‌ ‌improved‌ ‌along‌ ‌the‌ ‌way.‌ ‌This‌ ‌is‌ ‌how‌ ‌it‌ ‌began,‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌will‌ ‌show‌ ‌you‌ ‌how‌ ‌it‌ ‌all‌ ‌changed‌ ‌and‌ ‌became‌ ‌something‌ ‌different ‌I ‌originally‌ ‌started‌ ‌off‌ ‌with‌ ‌block‌ ‌modeling,‌ ‌getting‌ ‌the‌ ‌basic‌ ‌shapes‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌vehicle.‌

 ‌This‌ ‌was‌ ‌my‌ ‌original‌ ‌progress‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌front‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌vehicle,‌ ‌but‌ ‌still‌ ‌I‌ ‌was‌ ‌not‌ ‌satisfied.‌ ‌I‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌change‌ ‌something‌ ‌but‌ ‌I‌ ‌just‌ ‌wasn't‌ ‌too‌ ‌sure‌ ‌what‌ ‌needed‌ ‌change,‌ ‌so‌ ‌I‌ ‌played‌ ‌around‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌model‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌while‌ ‌and‌ ‌came‌ ‌up‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌new‌ ‌way‌ ‌of‌ ‌working. 

‌I‌ ‌then‌ ‌changed‌ ‌it‌ ‌up‌ ‌a‌ ‌bit,‌ ‌and‌ ‌went‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌more‌ ‌cartoony‌ ‌feel,‌ ‌but‌ ‌at‌ ‌this‌ ‌point‌ ‌I‌ ‌was‌ ‌still‌ ‌not‌ ‌satisfied‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌model.‌ ‌Something‌ ‌had‌ ‌to‌ ‌change.‌

 ‌‌Finally‌ ‌I‌ ‌ended‌ ‌up‌ ‌with‌ ‌this‌ ‌model,‌ ‌I‌ ‌am‌ ‌happy‌ ‌with‌ ‌it,‌ ‌but‌ ‌feel‌ ‌more‌ ‌can‌ ‌be‌ ‌done.‌ ‌I‌ ‌opted‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌more‌ ‌cartoonish‌ ‌style‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌the‌ ‌project‌ ‌easier‌ ‌for‌ ‌myself‌ ‌and‌ ‌not‌ ‌having‌ ‌to‌ ‌add‌ ‌a‌ ‌tremendous‌ ‌amount‌ ‌of‌ ‌detail,‌ ‌after‌ ‌all‌ ‌this‌ ‌was‌ ‌meant‌ ‌for‌ ‌my‌ ‌grandparents,‌ ‌but‌ ‌I‌ ‌couldn't‌ ‌get‌ ‌it‌ ‌3D‌ ‌printed‌ ‌in‌ ‌time,‌ ‌and‌ ‌I‌ ‌didn't‌ ‌have‌ ‌the‌ ‌finance‌ ‌for‌ ‌it‌ ‌either.‌ ‌ ‌This‌ ‌year‌ ‌has‌ ‌been‌ ‌a‌ ‌rollercoaster‌ ‌of‌ ‌emotions‌ ‌and‌ ‌troubles‌ ‌but‌ ‌we‌ ‌all‌ ‌pushed‌ ‌through‌ ‌it‌ ‌in‌ ‌whatever‌ ‌way‌ ‌we‌ ‌could.‌ ‌This‌ ‌will‌ ‌be‌ ‌my‌ ‌final‌ ‌blog‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌year.‌ ‌I‌ ‌hope‌ ‌you‌ ‌all‌ ‌enjoyed‌ ‌my‌ ‌

[justin-universe-blr-blog]

don't be frightened to display your talents, don't be afraid to do what you love because you care about others opinions.

often times you may love doing something, say you really love drawing and waiting but your not good at it, you tend to not do it because you care what people say and are scared what they think of it. in my experience I have noticed that there is no time to care what people think of you, yo really do only live once. being to embarrassed to play on the playground because you care what people think. if I could go back I would play as much as I could, and not care what anyone thought of me, it really does not matter what other people think, do what makes you happy, dont do things to make others happy.

you might not be good at doing everything but it doesn't matter if you are good or not, if you enjoy riding bike, do it ! if you enjoy making music, do it! if you enjoy drawing do it as much as you possibly can. life is short and it flashes by in  the blink of an eye, jump in that river, run in the rain, scream as loud as you can, its the small things that you will remember and the moments you cherish!

sometimes it feels like society is trying to push you in a jar, keep everything inside, make you do this and not do that. its easy to get caught up in everything thats going on in the world and lose focus of yourself, but its important to keep focus on yourself and make sure you do things that make you happy, life is to short to be upset and stressed all the time !

YOLO