#i'm just stuffing things in there whether i've read them or not. maybe it's a to-read-later maybe it's an all-time fave

[vaynglories]

having a shit memory is great because i get to read fics i read a month ago like it's the first time. do recommend 👍

[citrusy-lemons]

meet-cute

tasm!peter x reader (university au)

summary: you're late to your class and someone's left a skateboard on your path. the owner of the skateboard has very brown eyes.

w/c: 0.8k

author's note: um, hi. this is the first thing i've written for peter parker (i know, shocking, i mostly read about him) so i'm not sure whether i've captured his essence, but i tried. also i know it's a bit cringey but i started writing it in the reader's pov and i couldn't change it to peter's in the middle like i wanted to so, i guess, next time. i hope you like this! constructive criticism is encouraged, please be nice :)

you had not imagined your first day of university to go this way. it was a cloudy day, pleasant and not too windy. you were hoping to make it to class a few minutes early and have everything set up before the professor arrived. 

but instead, you were late, you were not organized at all, and you were panicking. all because your stupid alarm hadn’t gone off. why? because you’d forgotten to change the timezone in your phone. moving to the new city had not been easy and now you were super late for your class.

cursing yourself for your stupidity, you were hurrying across the campus, you weren’t sure where your class was, but you were hoping that you’re walking in the right direction. 

checking your bag, hoping to god that you’d grabbed the right books on your way out, with a cup of coffee in your other hand, you awkwardly jogged across the campus to the building where you hoped would be philosophy by mr. jackson. 

you were in the midst of congratulating yourself on successfully having the correct textbooks in your bag when the earth shifted. 

okay maybe that was a bit dramatic but that was what had happened to you. the earth hadn’t shifted, but you’d fallen on your butt because someone had left a skateboard lying in the middle of the walking path. 

thankfully, your coffee hadn’t spilled but your books sure had. looking up you found a brown-haired boy bashfully kneeling down and start collecting the books, profusely apologizing.

"-really sorry, are you okay? did you break anything? i broke my ankle a couple of years ago but i was just being stupid, oh god did you break your ankle? i hope you didn't, that hurts a lot. i'm so so sorry, are you okay?" he finished, turning his brown eyes on you in concern.

he looked very... soft. he was wearing a brown jacket and a navy blue zip up over a light blue tshirt. his headphones were hanging out of the neck of his tshirt. he looked like he smiled a lot. his brown hair was ruffled, his brows furrowed and you realized he was still waiting for your answer.

"i dont think i've broken my ankle if that's what you're worried about," you sat up. your butt was sore, but other than that you were okay.

"okay, that's good, that's a start, anything else broken?" he bit his lip, and you tried not to stare at it.

"no, doesn't feel like it," you took a breath, and looked away from him, towards the guilty board, "why don't you explain why your skateboard was just lying there?"

he helped you up, your coffee was still intact, you dusted yourself off.

"oh, uh yeah, again, i'm really sorry, i was checking my schedule on whether philosophy was right now or in an hour and i didn't realise it had rolled away from me," he did look very guilty, his frown saying as much.

he returned your books and you stuffed them in your bag which was lying on the ground. he was still looking at you.

"be careful then," say something clever, why wasn't your brain working?

"i'm really sorry," he offered, why was he still looking at you?

he picked his own bag up from the ground and looked away, grabbing his skateboard too.

you blinked.

"i think philosophy is right now,"

he looked at you again.

"which reminds me," you walked past him, fast. almost running, looking straight ahead.

philosophy is right now and you are very late.

"um, hey!" you heard him call out and turned around, still walking. he was facing your direction, looking at you again.

"philosophy by mr. jackson?" he asked, his skateboard in one hand and his brown bag slung across his back. did he really like the color brown?

"yeah," you called back, hoping he didn't have the same class as you.

"his classroom's that way," he pointed his thumb behind him.

goddamnit.

you stopped and started walking in his direction and he joined with you as you went past him. he took the hint that you were late and didn't really feel like making conversation. you tried not to visually show your panic but he seemed like a good observer.

you both reached the classroom (it was the first room in the building how could you have missed it?), and saw that yeah, you guys were very late.

the classroom was full, and a middle aged man was already talking to the students. professor jackson noticed you both before you had a chance to say anything.

"ah late on the first day, not making a good impression mr. and miss...?"

"peter- uh parker, peter parker," the boy next to you said.

you introduced yourself and mr. jackson let you both get to your seats without further embarrassment.

you sat down, pulled your textbook out and tried listening to what the professor was saying.

you looked for him and found peter parker's brown eyes already on you.

[solarswonderland]

dear hanbin

pairing: gn!reader x s.hanbin

wc: 0.5k

genre: fluff, highschool au

warnings: nothing really, just hopeless kids in love

summary: writing a love letter to him

a/n: ive never written anything like this before, I'm actually pretty proud of it. please lmk if it was alright 😓😓

*y.i: your initials

you were always a pen-and-paper person.

you didn't like typing down reminders or to-do lists, you preferred writing them down. there was just something so special about writing to you. probably the way you'd have to shake your pen occasionally because you ran out of ink. or the satisfaction you gain when you scratch out a completed task.

which is probably why you're standing in front of sung hanbin's locker, holding a carefully sealed envelope, decorated with hearts and small stickers you found stuffed deep in your desk drawers.

sung hanbin was truly not real, you thought. there was no way that man was real. he was just too good to be true. the adorable smile, the way he helps everyone around him, how he never got mad, how generous, smart, and nice he is. not to mention, he is incredibly handsome as well. it's no joke, everyone was in love with him. which is one reason you were always too scared to ever confess.

but if there was one thing you were confident in, it was your writing. you figured, since you can't form proper sentences in front of him, why not pen down your thoughts in the form of a letter instead? and that's exactly what you did.

you made sure no one was watching you and slipped the envelope into his locker. you breathed a sigh of relief and made you way to your next class.

after you were gone, hanbin made his way to his locker after basketball practice. he opened it and was startled to see a blue-colored envelope fall out. he grabbed it off the floor and opened it. he thought it might have been mistakenly placed in his locker, but instead was surprised when he read the first two words.

dear hanbin,

it was addressed to him after all. although he was tired and sweaty from practice, he was curious. he continued reading the letter.

dear hanbin,

my heart is racing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, there are so many words i've been wanting to say to you for years, and i finally have the chance.

from the moment i met you in middle school, when you lent me your pencil because i forgot mine, i've liked you. who knows, maybe its love?

your smile lights up my darkest days, and you have never once failed to make me laugh. every interaction, no matter how small or big, is etched into my memory, replaying over and over again like a broken record. i've admired your kindness, your intelligence, and the way you effortlessly make everyone around you feel at ease.

i want you to know that my feelings for you have not faded with time, if anything, they've grown stronger.

i understand that this letter might come as a surprise, and let's be honest, life's unpredictable. but i couldn't hold back my feelings any longer than i already have. whether fate leads us down a path of togetherness or friendship, i just needed you to know the truth that has been in my heart for so long.

no matter what your response may be, i'll respect it. no matter where life takes us, know that you'll always hold a special place in my heart.

with love,

y.i ♡

he smiled to himself as he read it. just as he was closing the letter after re-reading it over and over again, he saw some text in the back which made him laugh.

do you like me?

□ yes □ no

no pressure, you don't have to tick anything right now :)

sorry that's kinda creepy isn't it

i should probably stop writing...

he grabbed a pen and ticked the 'yes' option, quietly giggling to himself.

© solarswonderland 2023

[neewtmas]

hi!! i was wondering whether i could request a george x reader with she/her pronouns? maybe the reader is an assistant at lockwood and co and george is really protective over her bc she’s super sweet. maybe after the joplin incident she keeps having nightmares and george goes and comforts her, and lots of cute fluffy stuff :)

Nightmares

A/N: first off, thank you so much for your request! I had such a great time writing it. I hope you don't mind that I expanded on your idea a little, it just inspired me a lot. There is quite a lot of angstiness in the first half, but I made sure to include lots of fluff in the second half :)

I hope you enjoy it because personally I think this is one of the best things I've written so far and I'm very proud of it <3

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

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You had just finished the first chapter of your newly acquired book that you had gotten from the library this morning when it knocked at the door and Lockwood stuck his head in. "We're leaving now," he said. You put your book aside and followed him out into the hallway. Lucy was waiting at the door in a beautiful royal blue dress. "Where's George?" you asked.

Lockwood gave you a tightlipped smile. "He's staying here. Says he's not done with the research yet."

"Is that Joplin woman still here?"

You grimaced at his nod. A part of you felt bad because you were genuinely happy for George. He seemed to have found someone who shared his passion for research, but at the same time, you couldn't help but be creeped out by this woman. Something about her just didn't sit right with you. When you had brought it up to George one time, he had just dismissed it with a 'researchers are just a little weird, I mean, look at me'. You didn't agree at all but decided to just let the topic go.

After Lockwood and Lucy left, you weighed your options. Either you could go back into the living room and continue your book, or you could join George in the kitchen. Usually, the answer would have been obvious: join George in the kitchen with your book. But with Joplin in there… You sighed, walking back and resuming your place in the armchair.

The next time you put your book aside was when you heard a commotion from the kitchen and then a door closing. "Is she gone?" you asked, stepping into the hallway. George turned around. He seemed exhausted, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. "Yes, she, unfortunately, had to leave already", he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You didn't say anything, but apparently, your expression said enough. "I know you don't like her, y/n, but she just … cares a lot." A moment of silence. "You wouldn't understand." Your chest tightened at his words. If he just knew how much you cared.

You smiled weakly, not wanting to argue with him. In the kitchen, the entire table was covered in books. Some were opened, others piling up. Pieces of paper scribbled full of notes and diagrams and timelines were scattered all over. George cleared the table of the tea cups and brought them over to the sink. You noticed a packed duffel bag next to the door. "Are you leaving now?" you asked. "Yeah, meet-up time with Flo is in twenty minutes," he said after a look at the clock. You watched him gather his things and put on his shoes and jacket until he was standing by the door, ready to go.

You went up to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you, and you stayed embraced like that for a while before he gently pushed you away. "I have to go now." "Please be careful, okay?", you whispered, and he nodded. "No George, you need to promise me. That you're gonna be careful" you repeated, your tone urgent. He smiled down at you. "I promise, y/n."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next few hours you alternated between reading a few pages, and then pacing around the house when you couldn't concentrate longer than a few minutes before the anxiety was too bad. You knew how dangerous their mission was, and it killed you inside that you couldn't help them. But you also knew that Lockwood was right when I told you that you wouldn't be of much use, seeing as you currently didn't have much practice with a rapier. So you had no other choice but to stay home and wait for them to return, hopefully, all in one piece.

It was several hours past midnight when the sound of a key turning in a lock made you jump. You had nodded off at the kitchen table, too tired to keep your eyes open after a while. The kitchen door flew open and Lockwood and Lucy came in, both dripping wet. Lockwood had a cut on his temple, face all bloody. You rose from your seat.

"Where's George? What happened? Are you okay?" Frantically you hurried around the table, quickly checking to see if they had any other injuries, but they seemed to be fine. "George should be back in a while, he went to drop off the mirror", Lockwood said tiredly, taking one of the biscuits off the plate you had prepared for their return. You could feel yourself relaxing a little. All was well, they got the mirror and it was probably already safe with DEPRAC. "And we took a little bath in the Thames." Lockwood didn't smile, and the comment didn't roll off his tongue as effortlessly as usual. You could tell he was still tense. Lucy had been quiet, water dripping from her hair down her dress and making a puddle on the floor. "You two should take a shower," you said. "I'll wait here for George."

Soon you were alone in the kitchen again, but now any trace of tiredness was long gone. The tight knot of anxiety in your stomach had returned quickly, tugging on your insides. You knew it was part of the plan that George didn't arrive here with Lockwood and Lucy, but you couldn't help that your mind was running a million miles a minute, imagining every possible way something could have gone wrong.

You busied yourself with preparing a fresh kettle of tea and some sandwiches, and when you were done, you sat back at the table. That's when your eyes fell onto a thin, black book that was lying across from you, completely unassuming. You immediately knew that this was what your colleagues had risked their life for tonight. You picked it up, inspecting it from all sides. It had a simple black cover, and when you opened it, the pages were thin, almost brittle to the touch, and yellow at the edges. You quickly flicked through it and scanned over the pages before you froze. There was a picture of a man holding a mirror into a woman's face. That seemed promising. You hurried to read the text that accompanied the illustration, almost stumbling over the words in your head.

Yes, I killed him. Shot him with my father's pistol, sealed him with iron, buried him deep. Yet I still see him when I close my eyes, swathed in his velvet cloak, performing his rituals. I shall claim an act of self-defence, a bid to save my soul.

So Mary Dulac killed Bickerstaff. But why? You kept reading.

His cunning servant trapped me. The doctor held the glass before me. One glimpse and I felt my sanity shake loose. For this looking glass was not a mirror after all, it was a window. Only one glimpse, and I am damned. All I want to see is more.

You read over that paragraph again. A window? To where? What did she mean? You inspected the illustration once more, this time more closely. It didn't take long for you to discover the swirling shape inside the mirror, and at once you could feel a wave of cold dread wash over you. You knew that symbol. You knew it very well. With shaking hands you pushed away one of the mugs on the table and revealed what was underneath. The same swirling shape, etched in there by a black pen. The very pen you had gifted George a while back.

You felt your throat close up, the anxiety you had been feeling turning into a full-blown panic searing through your entire body. George must have looked into the glass. And if Mary Dulac was telling the truth, that meant he probably hadn't dropped it off at DEPRAC.

"LOCKWOOD! LUCY!" You wanted to scream, but your voice gave out on you. Wasting no time, you sprinted upstairs, colliding full force with Lockwood who was on his way downstairs.

"Woah, y/n" He caught your wrist, furrowing his eyebrows at your dishevelled state. "What's the matter?" "The mirror is not a mirror and George looked into it and now he's obsessed and he -" You stumbled over your words, unable to form a clear sentence.

Lockwood brought you back down into the kitchen and Lucy managed to calm you down enough so that you could explain to them what you discovered. "We need to go back to Bickerstaff's grave" decided Lucy, already starting to throw chains into a duffle bag. You jumped up from your chair. "I'm coming with you."

Lockwood looked at you as if you just suggested you throw yourself down the staircase. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "But I have to! George is in danger!" Your voice was high-pitched, and you were still shaking. How could Lockwood possibly think that you would just stay here when George - your George - was in a situation like that?

Lockwood grabbed you, fingers digging into your arms, forcing you to stand still as he looked at you with a grim expression that you had never seen on him before. "y/n, listen to me. Yes, he is in danger. And no, you're not coming with us." "But -" "No buts. George would rip me to pieces if I were to let you in harm's way so carelessly. He would quite literally kill me and probably put up my head next to those ghost masks in the hallway. And he would be right to do so. You are not trained right now, and as your employer I'm telling you right now, you're staying back."

You were stunned. Lucy pushed Lockwood aside, embracing you tightly. "It's gonna be fine, y/n. He's gonna be fine. And you know that he would never want you to risk your life for him."

You knew she was right, but you also knew that George would not hesitate a single second to go save you if the roles were reversed.

"I can't just stay here and do nothing," you said weakly, voice wavering. "You're not doing nothing", Lockwood reassured you. "You can make preparations for when we come back. George's probably gonna be out of it. And if things go south and we're not back in the morning, you call DEPRAC and send them after us."

You decided not to argue with him over the fact that if they were not back by morning, they were probably all dead anyways. You knew that Lockwood would not change his mind.

The next few hours were the most agonizing in your life. If you thought you had been anxious before, that was nothing compared to how you felt now. Your whole body felt stiff and weak at the same time, and you could not stop your hands from shaking. After accidentally dropping a mug (it was one of Lockwood's favourites, but you decided it didn't matter after the way he dismissed you earlier), you just left the kitchen and curled up in George's favourite armchair in the library, staring at the ceiling and willing for the minutes and hours to go by faster.

Finally, after what felt like several eternities, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. You scrambled to get up, getting caught in the blanket you had thrown over yourself and almost crashing into one of the bookshelves before regaining balance and dashing to the door.

You ripped it open, and as you saw George standing in front of you, looking tired but unharmed, you collapsed into his arms with a sob. He caught you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that for a moment, you couldn't breathe. But you did not care. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. 

"Let's get inside", he said softly, and you reluctantly let go of him. Suddenly you felt exhausted, all the tension from the night falling off you at once, making room for relief. Silent tears were streaming down your cheeks, and you made no effort to stop them. George's gaze softened as he looked at you and he gently wiped away some tears before hugging you again and placing a kiss on top of your head. "I'm okay, y/n. You don't need to cry."

That night, or rather morning, you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next day was spent recovering, and Lockwood, George and Lucy filling you in about what exactly happened last night. Knowing how they narrowly avoided death several times made you feel horrible, especially because you still felt so useless. While they were out there, risking their life for each other, you had just sat at home, doing nothing but panicking. George had assured you multiple times that you did the right thing, and that all he wanted was for you to be safe, but you couldn't quite shake the feeling.

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That was when the nightmares began. It started with you jerking awake in the middle of the night, tangled up in your blanket, your hair a mess and your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin. Your heart was racing so fast you thought it might explode in your chest, but you could not remember what you dreamt about. All you knew was that you were filled with a great sense of terror every time you woke. But every night, the dreams would get clearer, and worse. Each one featured George, dying a more gruesome death every single time. Shot by Joplin, suffocated by the vengeful ghost of old Bickerstaff, driven into madness by the bone glass.

It didn't take George long to notice the dark circles under your eyes. One morning, a few days after the incident, he stopped you on the staircase. "y/n, what is going on with you?", he asked, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "You look like you haven't slept in days." You smiled at him, trying hard to not appear as tired as you were. "I'm doing fine. Just not sleeping very well." You didn't want to tell him that you weren't sleeping well because you saw him die in your dreams every night. Knowing George, he would blame himself, and that was the last thing you needed him to do after everything he went through.

That night, you went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Next thing you knew, you were awake, the scream that woke you up still on your lips, shaking worse than any night before. You gasped for air, taking deep, long breaths trying to calm your racing heart. Your fingers were gripping the blanket so tightly it hurt, and you willed yourself to release them before getting up slowly. You were weak in the knees, but after a few seconds, you felt steady enough to make your way downstairs. With your mouth feeling dry like sandpaper, you wanted nothing more than a glass of cold water. You slowly took one step after the other, careful to avoid the ones that creaked when you stepped on them.

The staircase was dark, only illuminated by a few beams of moonlight cutting through the darkness, so you did not see George standing at the door to his room. "Where are you going, y/n?" You flinched, clasping your hand on your mouth to stop the startled yelp. "I just want something to drink." Your voice was as raspy as if you hadn't talked in days. George extended his hand. "I have something in my room." You didn't have the energy to argue, and if you were honest with yourself, in this moment there was nothing you wanted more than to be with George. Just to know that he was alive and well and all your dreams were truly just that: dreams.

You took his hand and he lead you into his room, to his bed, where you sat down. He poured you a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and handed it over to you. While you were sipping, he shuffled around somewhat awkwardly, before sitting down next to you. "Can you please just tell me what's going on with you, Y/N? You're worrying me. You've barely eaten the last few days and you look so tired." You didn't reply. "Plus I heard you screaming just now", he added quietly.

Something about the way he said it, the way he sounded so sad, made all your resolve crumble. You tried to blink away the tears that threatened to spill over your lashes, looking away from him so that he didn't see your tears.

George gently took the glass out of your hands, put it down on the nightstand and then wrapped his arms around you without saying a word. You buried your face in his chest, finally allowing the tears to fall freely and the sobs to wrack your body. He gently caressed your back, not letting go until your sobs slowly subsided.

When you sat back up, your eyes were puffy, but you already felt better. You hadn't realised what toll it had taken on you to bottle your feelings up like this. George's hand rested on your thigh, where his thumb was rubbing soothing little circles while you drank the rest of the water.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I've been having nightmares", you quietly said. "About you and the bone glass." George let out a long, drawn-out breath, his grip on your thigh tightening. "I'm sorry, Y/N", he finally says, and you shake your head softly. "It's not your fault, Georgie. I just wish I could have helped."

"Y/N. Do you have any idea how relieved I was when Lockwood and Lucy appeared in that catacomb and you were nowhere to be seen? You know how much it helped me, knowing that you are here and that no matter what happens, you'll be safe? You'll be okay?"

Warmth spreads in your chest at the sincerity of his words. "But that's the thing, George. I would not have been okay. If something had happened to you…" you trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. George took a deep breath, then he cupped your cheeks and gently turned your face towards him. Suddenly your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time not because of panic. "But that didn't happen", he said, his left thumb wiping away a few stray tears from your cheek. "I am here, and I am okay, and you have nothing to worry about. Okay?" "Okay."

He smiled at you, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let's sleep."

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"You can stay here every night, you know that."

He laid down, leaving enough space for you and you cuddled into him. His arms wrapped around you, and suddenly you were surrounded by his scent and his warmth and you just closed your eyes. "Good night, Y/N." was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep. 

And this time, there was no nightmare.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Hiiii!!! How're you doing? Good I hope!! ahh I'm seeing these amazing reblogs on your page and with College and my F1 brainrot I haven't been able to read Irondad fics 😭😭😭 is it okay if I ask you to give me some recommendations? preferable whump or sickfics (with fluff, lots of fluff) 👉🏼👈🏼 or like which fics did you enjoy the most this year/past 6 months 💙💙💙🩵🩵🩵🩵

Sorry for the delay in answering! I just needed to find the right time to really sit down and make a *good* list. Haha. Here is a list of what I've read recently and enjoyed a lot. Some of it fits better into your criteria than others, and some of them are still in progress, but here's the list! Don't forget to kudos and comment!!

[fic list with links below the cut!]

Paradigm shift by Bergen (T) In Progress (I love where this one is going! Lot's of fun surprises)

Peter got a Stark phone when he was ten. Adrian took him to a big store with lots of TV screens that all played the same video of Tony Stark declaring to the world that he was Iron Man. They ducked behind the microwaves, both of them giggling as Adrian stuffed the phone under Peter’s sweater.

They walked right out the door without tripping the alarm, and Adrian bought him ice cream to celebrate

After his parents die, Peter is taken in by the Toomes’ family. Things slowly, then quickly spiral out of control. All Adrian wants is to take revenge on Tony Stark. All Peter wants is to do the right thing. Why is that so much harder than expected?

Spaghetti and Red Wine by arthropodwithapen (M) In Progress (Lots of good whump moments but also some fluff and angst!)

After Peter's precarious position goes from bad to worse time and time again, he is left all alone with nothing but his anger and resentment at the world to keep him company. He wonders how much more he can take and whether the growing grudge between him and the Avengers will be enough to finish him off for good. Will he be able to complete his mission in time? Does he even want to anymore?

Of course. He is Spider-Man and he has a job to do. And he'll do it even if it kills him. For everyone else's sake.

Strands in the Rope series by Sara (ctrsara) @ctrsara (T) Complete (this whole series and its follow-up are super great. Lots of angst, misunderstandings, and of course, a whole ton of fluff)

A collection of insights starting after the events of Homecoming, mostly from Tony's perspective. The relationship that Tony and Peter had built by the time Infinity War happened (or not - I'm not a big fan) wasn't built on any big world-ending events, but on countless lab sessions, movie nights, smaller emergencies, and conversations. All of these combined to form a bond between them just as strong as blood ties, and just as unbreakable. I feel like we missed out on all that on-screen, so I can never read enough stories that would maybe cover that period. There is a follow-up series called, Unbroken Strands.

Please, Help Me by Muikelle (Not Rated) In Progress (So. Much. Whump.)

Mj watched as they pride apart the car. Her car. The only car she had, the one Tony had gifted her as a graduation gift. The car she and Peter first- well. Anyways. Then Peter was being moved out of it, and slow motion had taken over once more. She was standing to go get to him, he needed her. She needed him. But a man stopped her, told her to sit down, or something of the likes. She was pissed off when they closed the ambulance door and finally took off with her inside, she didn't need to be in there, she needed to be with Peter.

Or Mj and Peter get into a car crash when coming home from spring break.

Iron Dad: Coming Home by JAWorley (T) Complete (I just started reading this but so far it's really great!)

Cold, tired, hungry, and homeless, 14 year old Peter Parker gets taken in by Adrian Toomes and his crew. Mr. Toomes is a great guy who teaches Peter how to survive on the streets, and Peter loves him for it, despite that Mr. Toomes hates Peter’s hero Iron Man and says Tony Stark is out to line his own pockets by stepping on the little guy. When Iron Man appears one day and presents Spider Man with an opportunity too good to pass up, Peter finds himself having to make up his mind about what ‘helping the little guy’ really means. Peter also begins to find out some ugly truths about the things Adrian Toomes and his crew are making, and has to decide if the safety Toomes offers is worth throwing Spider Man’s mission and morals out the window. Can he find that same safety with Mr. Stark? So much of Peter’s future hangs in the balance and depends on the choices he makes. An anti-hero and an anti-villain are just one step over the same line in a different direction.

Double-sided Coin by kingdomfaraway @asyouleft (G) Complete (I have never read anything like this before and it was so so good!)

The Iron Man rarely had assignments that weren’t direct kill orders.

Usually he was given a weapon and a target, with the strict instructions of leaving no one alive, target and witness alike. They didn’t expect him to make too much conversation, to integrate himself into the person’s life, to find a way to gain the target’s trust. He was not a spy. He was a machine made to kill, to take down threats to HYDRA, and to preserve the Greater Good.

When the assignment came from high up to kidnap, not kill, a young boy, Peter Parker, he was a little baffled.

(or How to Make a Deadly Assassin Adopt You: A HYDRA!Tony fic)

How to Get Banned from Monaco (again) by niniblack @niniblack (T) Complete (This is so funny and so perfectly in character. I love it.)

Tony texts Rhodey before they leave for Monaco:

two rules for this trip

don’t let Peter out of your sight

don’t let him do anything Pepper would get mad about

Rhodey: that second one doesn’t leave many options

will you make me a lot of pancakes (when we meet again?) by Peng_Peng (G) Complete (This is some great Ironfam whump, right here!)

Five times hurting you + Five times receiving your kindness.

Peter knew from the first time they met that the kid wasn't going to like him. But Peter could do that. She was his first and only sister after all.

A New Point of View by waitingondaisies (T) Complete (This one is si so fun with lots of funny and serious moments. It's a good balance)

Peter rushes out of school to join Tony in fighting the aliens that appear over New York, leaving behind the problems that plague his life.

He ends up leaving them behind for far longer than expected when an alien substance causes him to swap bodies with Tony. They agree to live each other’s lives to keep the mishap under wraps, giving each of them an up-close and personal view of the other’s hidden problems.

Peter will come to learn that Tony’s life isn’t as glamorous as it appears, and Tony will come face to face with all of the things that Peter never told him about: bullies, unfair teachers, and economic struggles.

Saving the World Does Not a Hero Make by Azure_K_Mello (M) Complete (This isn't an Irondad fic so much as it's an older MCU/X-Men Crossover but I read it again recently because I love it so much)

Years ago, Tony Stark created a brutal weapon. Even when he was the Merchant of Death, he couldn’t bring himself to put it on the market. But, when S.H.I.E.L.D. learned of its existence, they wanted it. Deciding Spider-Man was the weakest link in Iron Man’s armor, Captain America, Black Widow and Falcon were sent to apprehend him — hoping he either knew where the weapon was or that they could trade him to Tony for it.

But, apprehending a fifteen-year-old is more correctly be termed as kidnapping. And what S.H.I.E.L.D. called interrogation was, in actuality, torture. And, when push came to shove, Peter had to save himself when no one else was going to help.

And my shameless self-promotion...

Threenager by happyaspie (G) Incomplete

While on patrol, Peter is struck by a spell that turns him into a toddler. Or mostly into a toddler. His memories, intellect, and experiences are still intact. Unfortunately, that makes being trapped in a toddler's body, with a toddler's motor skills that much harder. His legs are too short, and his fingers are too uncooperative. He can’t ride in the car without a super claustrophobic car seat. He can’t even wash his hands without help and it's all very frustrating. Between the teasing, Tony does his absolute best to help.

I could add so much more to this list, but I think I'll stop here. Haha. As far as sickfics go, @sicktember is coming up soon and I know *I* will have plenty to add to the genera during that event!! So be on the lookout for that, my friend! And Thank you so much for asking me to compile this list!!

[greentrickster]

Hello! Huge fan of Saturation, it's basically become a bimonthly read for me.

If it's not too personal to ask, do you also write more conventional fiction, or are you more of a fanfic writer?

Hello! Also wow, I'm flattered to hear you enjoy it so much! Also a touch intimidated, where do you find the time?

Nope, not too personal at all! As it happens, I actually started out writing conventional/original fiction, then shifted into fanfiction over the years (and always have and still occasionally do write original poetry). Actually wrote a short novel from sixth grade to tenth, it's complete but no one online will ever see it, it is very bad and there's stuff in it I don't agree with or find appropriate anymore, but hey, it taught me that I could start something big and finish it, which has been a lesson that's come in handy since. I didn't even get into fanfiction until my last year or two of high school, so I came to it relatively late in life.

The thing is? My favorite pieces of original writing that I've done have always been fanfiction in a way, because I'm very fond of retellings of myths, fairy tales, and folk lore. I like slipping into a pre-existing narrative and doing my own thing with it, whether it be weaving in extra lore or reformatting the entire story. And, honestly? These days I don't see much difference between fanfiction and original fiction, just because I own and know of a lot of what is technically published fanfiction. I've got a Peter Pan prequel about Captain Hook's childhood, a lot of the Dragon Ball manga (which was originally based on Journey to the West), and I'm quite familiar with novels like Wicked, Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, and the like. As far as I'm concerned, the only difference between stories like these and stories like Saturation is whether copyright law says the writer can officially publish and profit off of them or not.

Technically speaking by everyone else's standards, however? Fanfiction all the way, baby! I take so much more pleasure and satisfaction in it than in more original pieces these days. Like, maybe the odd piece of properly original fiction slips out every now and then, but transformative works are where it's at for me, and I feel no need to change that, now or ever! ^U^

That said, if you'd like to see some of my writing that isn't posted on AO3 and I could technically make money on if I put some effort into it, I have some pieces up on my kofi account for free, it's just in the posts section. There isn't as much up there as I'd like for there to be at the moment, but, like... (gestures at the entire mess that is AI at the moment) I'm really proud of my writing, original or not, and I don't want someone coming along and stuffing it into a generator. :/

[ichigoporky]

How did Ichi's writing begin? — ✍

When I was smaller (like, smaller than now!), I had this super cool typewriter that my mom's boss gave us as a gift! I think my mom still keeps it somewhere, along with all my old stuffed animals and tons of other stuff that brings back memories!

With that typewriter, I started writing so much stuff! I wrote jokes that I'd take to school and tell my friends, short stories, I even transcribed things I heard on TV, and I wrote my very own novel!

My novel was called “The Lost Princess”, and yeah, you guessed it, it was about a princess who... well, she got lost. Looking back, Ichi from back then wasn't the best at coming up with fancy titles, hehe!

Before I had the typewriter, I had lots of diaries. I'd always be drawing and writing in them, filling up every single page. On my birthdays, I'd always get new notebooks to write in, even from my friends at school. One time, I got two notebooks that were exactly the same from two different friends! They didn't plan it or anything, it was just a big coincidence! But I kept writing in both of them, even though I sometimes mixed them up.

I've always loved writing, everywhere I could, even on walls, although my parents weren't too happy about that, haha!

But you know what? It's all part of the fun! Writing is amazing, whether it's with a fancy typewriter, a stack of notebooks, or even just a piece of paper and a pencil!

So, if you've ever thought about giving writing a try, why not go for it now? Whether it's jokes, stories, poems, or even your very own novel too, the world is waiting to hear your voice! So grab your pen, or your keyboard, and let your imagination run wild! Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll look back and be very happy reading all the thoughts you wrote, just like I'm doing now!

5 things you can do after reading this — 📜

Grab a notebook and write down any ideas or thoughts.

Write a short story or poem based on this prompt: A day in the life of a small fairy.

Rewrite the ending of your favorite movie, book or show.

Write a cute letter to a friend or family member.

Start reading a new book that interests you!

[cryptidsurveys]

Friday, October 11th, 2024.

What was the filling in the last doughnut you ate? It didn't have any filling, but it was strawberry flavored.

Do you remember what you had for dinner on Saturday evening? Either a salad or a sandwich with mixed veggies. It's almost always one of those two things. I'm a very, very repetitive eater. My tastes and routines eventually change, though, so I kind of wonder what's next.

When was the last time you bought a new pair of shoes? What kind/colour? Last summer. I bought a black and white pair of slip-ons and a black pair of regular laced shoes (kind of like Converse but not).

Do you own any items of clothing that you've never worn? Yeah.

When you shop for new clothes, do you ask anyone else for an opinion? I might have when I was younger, but not in recent years.

What was the last thing that you considered buying, but chose not to? Halloween decorations. I did get a few things, but I tried not to go completely overboard. I decided I am going to decorate and hand out candy after all. Keep the tradition alive.

Who was the last person you were required to buy a gift for? I wasn't required to buy her a gift, but I bought some things for my mom last Christmas.

And what did you choose? A stuffed penguin (they're her absolute favorite animal), a Cheshire cat mug, a movie gift card, and a concept book (not really sure what to call it?) for one of her favorite artists.

Have you ever accidentally bought someone a gift that they already had? I've purchased the same item from someone's wish list as someone else, but I don't know whether I was technically the second person or not.

Can you recall the last time you bought flowers for someone? What kind? I don't think I've ever bought anyone flowers.

And when was the last time someone sent flowers to you? What kind? I don't think anyone has ever sent me flowers. Bought them, maybe, but I can't be sure of that either.

Are you a keen reader? If so, what books are you planning to read soon? I'm not nearly as keen of a reader as I used to be. I also don't have any serious plans regarding what to read next. There are books I would like to read, but I know myself well enough not to make any promises.

How many books do you think you own? Just take a rough guess. Idk where to draw the line between books I personally own and books that exist within this house, but maybe something like 100+. That's excluding religious books that are definitely my dad's; but if we include those, then...who even knows. He's got a little library.

Are there any books that you own more than one copy of? Possibly. The most likely one would be Watership Down.

Lipstick, lip gloss, or neither? Just chapstick.

What brand of mascara do you use, if any? None.

What was the last minor disappointment that you experienced? Car trouble last Sunday that prevented my dad and I from going to the Mountain Park. We made it out there yesterday, though.

Do you have loyalty cards for any of your favourite stores? Which one(s)? I don't. I should probably get one for the movie theater, though. I think I go there often enough that it would be worthwhile.

What scent does your hand sanitizing gel have? It doesn't have a particular scent.

What does your favourite mask look like, if you have a favourite? This question was on a relatively recent survey, and I remember wondering whether the survey-maker meant a Covid mask or a Halloween mask. Considering this question comes just after a hand sanitizer one, I'm going to assume they mean a Covid mask. I had some cute ones that I snagged from a doctor's waiting room before Covid was even a thing. They were meant for kids and had little designs on them, but I no longer remember what they were. For the most part, though, I just wore the stereotypical blue masks. I didn't have any reusable/stylish ones.

Do you remember what you had for lunch last Sunday? The same "either/or" I mentioned for the dinner question above.

Is there a bottle anywhere close to you? What does it contain? There's a water bottle and a migraine med bottle on my desk.

As a child, what was a trait or habit you had that annoyed your parents? My mom was occasionally annoyed by my shyness. I was very reluctant to talk to cashiers, waiters, etc. I don't think she was frustrated in a mean way, but more like, "You're going to have to learn how to do this eventually…"

What was the last TV series that you watched for the first time? I'm not sure.

And what did you think of it? N/a.

Tell me about something you did within the last week, that brought you joy. Go on a hike with my dad. He can't go as far as he used to, which is admittedly sad/disappointing, but it makes me treasure the adventures we do have all the more.

[lighthouseborn]

⭐️⭐️ i changed my mind i don’t wanna switch blogs but this one is for henrina :D

Every ⭐️ exchanges for a headcanon (or we-haven't-plotted-yet theory / plot bunny) about our characters' (potential) dynamic.

This is so hard I feel like I have simply sprinted to the dms every time I have a thought s;dkfjg;ldkfjg - if I repeat something I've said before it's because I forgot I said it

They are such a book couple to me actually it's unreal. I think they probably just sort of do their own thing a lot of the time, read their own books in silence at the same time, but like while sitting near to each other or touching or one person laying on the other kind of thing. Every now and then -if they come across something the other will find interesting they might trade books for a paragraph, or just read the part of it out loud if they in a more let's-argue-with-this-writer kind of mood. And they also are book people in a way that would stress a 'books must be pristine' person the hell out because I'm 100% sure they both write in the margins and leave notes and stuffed inside the books (which is bad for the binding btw, even bookmarks can mess with books sometimes) and they both always have done that almost just in a thinking-aloud fashion but now when they write inside the books it's almost always to each other. Even if it's not directly addressed it's the kind of thing where they write it thinking about the other person. So sometimes they open a book and get a surprise little conversation-of-sorts from the other. Of the two of them, Henry's the more likely to leave in little scraps of other things that, at first glance, don't seem to relate to the book at all, as well as separate little notes that really don't have anything to do with the text but are just notes to her. Sometimes sketches, too. Carina's left entire essays either disproving or further expanding on certain topics. They've both wandered out of their previous genre-staples through all of this, reading things they might never have picked up otherwise.

I don't think she's much of a fighter (at least not in a wants-to-study-the-sword kind of way) but I do think there's been a little bit of teaching, on this front. Because she's got the spirit for it and is not afraid to throw down to defend herself, you know? So I doubt it's anything quite as swashbuckling as a dancing sword but Henry's definitely taught her a thing or two to give someone who might try to mess with her a really hard time of it. A nice solid punch, to go with that slap. Probably she never has to use it because she's just never really alone in those kinds of situations he is always right there but. It's nice to know she can, if there's ever a call for it. I'm very certain she also kicks really hard, which probably has nothing to do with Henry and everything to do with growing up in a children's home, but this is also nice to know (and maybe something he found out the hard way, while being an ass.)

I feel like this is one we've said something about but I think about him thinking about her every time he comes across hair ribbons and good hair pins, and bringing her new ones when she's lost one or just because. They're all, always, at risk of disappearing, whether she loses them for mundane reasons or in the midst of adventuring (so many hair pins lost and broken in locks, may they rest in pieces) but this isn't really a problem? Like even though he gave them to her it's not like 'oh you lost the one I got you?' it's just. The whole part where she uses them and they often get lost is very endearing to him and what makes him think to pick them up to begin with. Her ribbons get sacrificed as book marks and as charting tools and the pins go to locks and even -sparingly- as defensive tools and Henry thinks it's the best. And the next time he sees a pretty ribbon or a good sturdy pin, he's bringing it home.

[iheartchv]

Hello, I love the matches you do and it's the first time I've asked for a match, so I hope I'm doing it right.

 🌿🍒

I am a Mexican woman, although I am somewhat short for my age (so I have been told), I am 5'8 (158 cm), despite being 23 I am often told that I do not look my age (a problem because they always ask me for my identification anywhere), my body is not slender to tell the truth, I am rather plump (chubby and short was equal to a long time of teasing).

I am usually someone calm and serious, some would say that I have more of a bitter face, I normally try to avoid fights, whether verbal or physical, but if it doesn't work I have no choice but to resort to other options, I have been told a lot that when i get mad it's like watching a squirrel mad because his nuts were taken away but let me tell you this squirrel knows how to use his fists when needed, it's very hard to get me to that point but when it happens there's no going back.

I love reading too much, I could easily get lost for a whole day just reading about history, fantasy, architecture, space, I've always read a bit of everything, because it's just fascinating, I don't usually have a balance in my tastes honestly, one day I could be reading how the first civilizations, or machines, arose, and then reading a world of mermaids and dragons, feeds my curiosity and I'll always thank you, although I'm also a complete Otaku (I got ridiculed for that when I was younger), I love books action anime, fantasy and mystery, but I also enjoy a good romance, more than once I have cried for an anime scene or a book, I would lack fingers to count how many times I have been obsessed with an anime, series, cartoon, etc. .

Stuffed animals, lots of stuffed animals, maybe it's very childish but there's something about them that makes me love them so much (of course I don't have a room full of them), but each one I have has a certain special meaning for me, my current favorite It's one that calls it "pig-saurus" since it's a little pig dressed as a dinosaur, it sounds strange but it's actually adorable.

I love big jackets, I don't know, I just love to wear something that I could easily hide my whole body in, my favorite kind of clothes when reading or in winter.

Once I'm confident, I'm someone who smiles (I could even laugh at the worst joke in the world), a bit of a problem like a Stitch when drinking coffee, a bit foul-mouthed (my polite self quits the chat at that moment) and I tend to hug too much, It doesn't matter how big you are (height or age) I will hug you if I feel safe by your side, and many times I have been told that I am that friend with a motherly character (I accept it in fact), I honestly can't help but feel That maternal side comes out, and another thing is that I've always been the one who listens and advises, honestly sometimes I would like to be the one who could talk too, even if it's just once.

I always carry a notebook and pencil or pen, maybe you need to write an address, some errand, or there may even be a space to draw a little, you never know and you have to be prepared (That's right, I love drawing too).

 

I am very sorry that it has been so long, I hope and it is not a problem.

Your match is... Michelangelo🧡

Possible matches: Donnie, Leo

Mikey would like you

He has a crush on you

And it might seem like a Mikey thing because he had a bit of crush and flirted with April

But believe him when he says that he has a crush on you, or tells you that your gorgeous

Hes not saying it to just say it or be nice

He means it

You're the girl of his dreams

Besides April, and any other of his girl friends, you're the only woman who accepts for who he is

It took a bit of time, but you two stsrted dating

You were such a cute couple

While you both acted somewhat similar, you seem to be the mom friend so maybe you can help Mikey out if he gets out of control

And he'll calm you down if you get upset

Mikey is affectionate so he'll give you all the hugs you could ever want, and more

He won't care if he hugs you or you hug him, he 💕loves💕 it

He might not/rarely reads books a lot, but he wouldn't mind if you read to him while laying his head in your lap

This turtle is always excited for Christmas

This year, he was going to go all out: decorate, cook, have gifts under a tree, etc.

This was going to be his gift to you

The cherry on top would be the ol' kiss under the mistletoe

"I love you, more than anything in the whole world, sweetness"

"Even more than pizza?"

He was silent

"Mikey" you groaned

"I'm just kidding, babe. Yeah, I love you more than pizza."

🐢🧡💖👩

Hope you like your match 👉🧡👈

[ruvviks]

❣️🎁🎮🤡🐒💤🗺️💀🧸 for vincent and cassidy :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH AUGRHHGRDHF i love these little guys so much. cassidy isn't little but. he is. to me

❣️ - what are their love languages?

physical touch and acts of service >:^) also cooking and remembering things but those are. less Official. but they're still important to me. if you wanna read more about this you can do that here it's from a different ask game but it makes me SO insane i'm not kidding

🎁 - how do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

cassidy doesn't like his birthday because he lost his family on his birthday when he was still a kid :( doesn't celebrate anymore and also regularly just forgets when his birthday even is or his own age LMFAO he's not thinking about it at all <3

he DOES make an effort for others though when he finally has some friends again :] always tries to buy them something even though he sucks at giving gifts but. yeah. he really Tries and i'm very emotional about that

🎮 - what’s their favorite game?

answered here! to add another one: doom <3 cassidy loves to turn off his brain for the evening and just kill demons and he is Very good at it too because. well. assassin. and also netrunner (read: gamer)

🤡 - what’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

answered here! to give a very specific example which is. not really all that dumb but it IS kinda funny: he's very embarrassed about biting off a piece of sebastian's ear at some point <3 not giving you any more context i'm sorry i've said Enough

🐒 - what’s their favorite animal?

answered here!

💤 - what do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep?

answered here! he also needs to Hear something in order to fall asleep, on top of all that. whether it is noise from outside or a desk fan or someone else's breathing, doesn't really matter, but he can't fall asleep in dead silence

🗺️ - what languages do they speak?

answered here! he can also understand japanese and french well enough, but he can't speak those languages himself

💀 - how do they feel about horror movies?

cassidy Loves horror movies >:) it's his favorite genre next to sci-fi and it does. very little to him usually LMFAO he's also talking the entire time. he loves to pluck a movie apart while it's playing. he won't shut up i'm sorry. when a cheap jumpscare gets him he Will be >:( and he Will complain about it

🧸 - do they have any stuffed animals? if so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

answered here!

❣️ - what are their love languages?

acts of service, physical touch and quality time >:))) especially all three of them combined into one

🎁 - how do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

vincent feels pretty neutral about his birthday mainly because he didn't celebrate it for some years because he was essentially Alone. nowadays it's a very special day to him because he kissed vitali for the first time ON his birthday so >:]

he's always VERY excited about other people's birthdays and will go all out for them, getting them flowers and also a gift. or two. or three. and he's giving them so many hugs and also maybe kisses if they're cool with that and if they want to go places he is taking them Everywhere

🎮 - what’s their favorite game?

vincent likes story based games a lot! i can't think of a specific game right now but anything that just tells a good story and is enjoyable to play through would catch his attention, he can play those kind of games in one sitting tbh. he also likes rhythm shooters >:)

🤡 - what’s something dumb they’re embarrassed about?

ok this one is funny LMFAO vincent feels incredibly embarrassed about the entire relic situation. yeah. don't ask why he just Does. babyboy got shot in the head, died, got revived by the relic and had to deal with johnny silverhand and here he is feeling so embarrassed about all of that. people have tried talking to him about it. he will not let it go. it's stuck in his brain

🐒 - what’s their favorite animal?

vincent loves cats so so SO much he has a cat himself (nibbles!) and vitali also has a cat (sapphire!!) and viktor ALSO has a cat (jack!!!) and vincent is always playing with them. he's having floor time and the cats are with him they're hanging out. whenever nibbles does something cute vincent is nearly in tears because he loves her so much

💤 - what do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep?

vincent, much like cassidy, needs to hear something before he can fall asleep. ever since they got rid of johnny in his brain he just HATES silence so much because it makes him incredibly uncomfortable and sometimes almost makes him wonder if he's dead so. he Needs to be able to hear something or he refuses to fall asleep. he also lowkey just kinda needs to have vitali close but he can also sleep without him. but he's not happy about it

🗺️ - what languages do they speak?

vincent knows english, sign language and spanish! he also knows bits and pieces of russian and irish but he's not very good at learning new languages so he's struggling a lot with them still, especially since the in-game events he's got pretty bad memory issues :/ but he's still making an effort

💀 - how do they feel about horror movies?

vincent likes horror movies but prefers to watch them with others, he wouldn't be one to just. watch one by himself LMFAO he likes scare his friends when they're watching a horror movie together <3 especially mikhail is fun to scare

🧸 - do they have any stuffed animals? if so, are they decorative or do they sleep with them?

vincent has SO MANY PLUSHIES my god. he's got. so facking many. they were mostly decorative at first. he hid them away for a while actually :( but now they're all in his bedroom >:) he regularly sleeps with one but cycles through them so it's never the same plushie two nights in a row <3

oc asks!

[chosonore]

summary: choso always takes good care of you, whether you're sick or not. even when you're sick and slightly delirious, your opinion could never be swayed - you loved choso with all your heart.

a/n: honestly, this is purely self-indulgent because i'm sick and i want a choso to take care of me until i know what's wrong and get better 🥺 it's inspired by the naoya fic i've written a while ago but uh this just really reads like a love letter to choso lol. i love him so much i'm not even kidding, no one could ever compare to him

if you were to describe the relationship between choso and you, it would be comfortable silence. choso didn't speak a lot, rarely starting a conversation on his own unless he was overcome by sudden curiosity. truthfully, you didn't mind as you were a quiet person yourself. and somehow, the communication was effortless, a silent and mutual understanding of your needs. he made you feel comfortable and safe, cared for as he always seemed to sense what you needed. falling in love with choso was easy and so natural, as if you'd been lovers in your previous lives. you'd been a couple for a long time now, but it wasn't until recently that you moved in with him. almost instantaneously, a routine was established - while you were busy with your studies, choso spent most of his time at the tattoo studio he recently opened with his friends. you didn't mind because still, he always made time for you. with no shadow of a doubt, he would always prioritize you before anything. so, every bit of time that you could get was spent together.

as any other day, you woke up alone in your bed, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. choso sometimes left early in the morning to work on administrative tasks or tidying the studio but never failed to prepare you a little breakfast beforehand. as you sat up, a wave of nausea overcame you, quickly forcing you to lie down again. it was only then that you noticed you felt strangely cold and your nose was stuffed, shuddering uncomfortably in your clothes. it was rare that you got sick, so everytime it did happen, it drained you rapidly. blindly reaching for your phone, you texted choso, blinking at the bright screen.

me: i think i got sick :( can you pick up some medicine on your way home?

almost instantly, your screen lit up.

choso 💉: ?

"hello?" you croaked as you accepted choso's call and sniffled quietly.

"are you okay? do you want me to come home early?" choso might have sounded indifferent but you knew better. he would never show his concern to you, always wanting to keep his strong and protective persona. he was just that kind of person, he lived to be a good example to others.

"no it's okay, choso. i think it might be a really bad cold, that's all. i'll be fine if i get enough rest."

a hum. choso didn't sound convinced.

"then get some rest, yeah? make sure to have some tea. i'll wrap things up here and come home in a bit. call me if you need anything."

you hummed in agreement, making a weak kissy noise as you said goodbye to him and chucked your phone on the night table. no matter how much you wanted to convince him to continue his work, he would come home regardless. it didn't sit well with him to not care for you while you were sick. a small smile found its way onto your lips, how lucky you were to have found a lover like him. as you drifted off to sleep, choso was quickly finishing his paperwork, earning some amused glances from his friends. it was evident that this had to do with his girlfriend - choso would never let anyone tell him what to do nor do them any favours if it wasn't someone he deeply cared for.

"you're really speedrunning through everything to get back home to y/n, huh? you only got here," geto teased him, looking up from the sketches he was preparing for display.

"she got sick this morning. wanna be there for her in case it gets worse. i don't have any appointments for today anyways so you'll be fine," choso curtly explained, not picking up on geto's teasing undertone. even though they liked to joke about how whipped he was for you, they never questioned him - you were his love, his light. if anything, they envied him for the relationship, a relationship that flowed so effortlessly and easily like a spring working its way through bottlenecks and rocky river beds, silent and yet strong. geto pat choso's shoulder and shot him a knowing look, reassuring him that they could run the studio just fine.

even if you didn't sound like your afflictions were severe, choso still felt uneasy. he wanted to make sure you were okay, wanted to care for you. maybe it was moreso his fear of losing people he loved, but he couldn't deny his caring nature. on his way home, he'd picked up some ingredients to make soup as well as some medicine. music was sounding through the apartment as he entered and placed the bags on the counter, keeping an eye out for you. were you still in bed? he padded towards your shared bedroom, quietly nudging the door open as he squeezed his way in. you were laying on the bed, giggling at a book you were reading, not having noticed him yet.

the bed dipped next to you, making you drop the book you were holding. choso's twin tails came into your vision until you could see the entirety of him hovering above you, scrutinizing your figure in thought. "hi baby," he greeted you with a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "how are you feeling?"

"kinda achy and cold," you described with a pout, leaning into choso's touch as he brushed your hair with his fingers. "did you bring me some medicine?"

choso nodded, explaining that he'd be making you some soup as it was better not to take the medicine on an empty stomach. he wrapped you in the blanket before disappearing in the kitchen. you listened to the sounds in the kitchen, feeling more at ease now that he was home. you must have fallen asleep as the soup was done, its savoury scent rousing you from your slumber. as the primary cook in this household, choso's cooking skills were excellent and never failed to amaze you. sometimes you couldn't believe he was real. choso kept an eye on you as you munched away, handing you the medicine once you were done. he joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you towards him. you were placed on his lap like a baby, making you giggle as you leaned against his chest.

"will you play with my hair?" you requested with a small yawn. choso obliged, weaving his fingers through your hair as he worked through the knots and massaged your scalp. you hummed in relaxation, struggling to keep your eyes open. instead, you focused on the tattoos on his arm that was placed around your waist, tracing the patterns with your fingers. when you first met, the skin on his arm was sparsely filled, he'd only started on completing his sleeve tattoos. it was a slow and gradual process. you were always the first person he'd proudly showed a new addition to, and in a way, the tattoos marked the journey of your relationship. you were thankful for him, thankful to have found someone who silently understood you.

he was too hesitant to ask you just yet as you'd told him years prior that you weren't sure about getting tattoos but you knew he wanted to be the one to give you your first tattoo. maybe you were delirious from your sickness, maybe it was then in that moment that you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, maybe it was your overwhelming love- "choso? i think it's time i get a tattoo soon."

choso's hand came to a halt and he made an incredulous noise. "y/n, i don't think- it might be better if we discuss this when you feel better again."

"no, i'm serious. it's just... i trust you so much. you always take good care of me and you're just always there. i'm uh- i honestly can't imagine my life without you, i just love you so much," you confessed with embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands as you finished talking. choso chuckled as he pried your hands away, pecking your lips in adoration. he looked gleeful, as if hearing your admission of love for the first time - the feeling was mutual, you just couldn't believe he was yours.

"we'll talk about this again when you've fully recovered. but i'm happy that you trust me with this."

"i'll be fine soon, i just need a lot of vitamin c," you giggled hysterically. "vitamin choso."

choso groaned but couldn't stop the laughter tumbling from his lips either, opting to tickle your sides and blowing raspberries into your shoulder. you squealed, trying to push him off you before being pulled back into his arms again. choso buried his head in the crook of your neck, placing a kiss on it. he didn't show you his face, not wanting you to see his teary eyes.

"i love you a lot, you know?"

"i love you more."

[inglourious-imagines]

Piece Of Cake (Fred Weasley)

Summary: Fred claims that asking a girl out to the Yulle ball is a piece of cake. Harry and Ron dare him to prove it.

Prompts: fluff list: 2 - "I don't care, just hold me." & angst list: "Try to see things in my point of view." & miscellaneous list: 4 - "My mum thinks I'm dating you." (changed a bit)

Warning: angst at the beginning, some swear words, fluff at the end

Author's Note: This is for @lunalovecroft 's 1K writing challenge! Probably it was meant to be the other way around, but that idea suddenly strucked me and I decided to give it a go. Happy reading ♡

HP Taglist: @alienoresimagines @95swifi

.

.

.

"You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have." - F.S. Fitzgerald

All the Yulle Ball decoration were making Y/N beyond sick, every ribbon reminding her that she still did not have a date to accompany her throughout the approaching evening. Molly Weasley was so kind to send her as a gift the most beautiful dress Y/N had ever seen in her life and now she was genuinely thinking about not going to the ball at all. 

When she threw herself at the bench in the Great Hall right next to her best friend Hermione who was sitting way too far from Ron, Harry and the twins were seated. Y/N knew about the brightest witch's secret crush on the young Weasley that was slowly but surely growing into something more than just a simple crush. She'd even swear that Ron felt exactly the same about Hermione but she had to promise not to get involved or play a cupid. 

"He didn't ask, did he." Y/N dared to speak up first, glancing from Hermione's sad expression on her face to absolutely oblivious Ronald just a few metres away from them who seemed to be stuffing as much food as possible into his mouth as fast as he could. 

Y/N's eyes wandered from one Weasley to another, much taller one, who's smile was so contagious that she found herself grinning like an idiot for no particular reason.

"What do you think, Y/N." Hermione sighed bringing her back from her daydreaming, "guess he's not the only one who didn't ask, right?" 

Y/N looked at her friend again, simply nodded as she wasn't able to react in any other way. As much as she tried not to, she felt a bit disappointed when the only person she wanted to go to the Yulle ball with, hasn't asked her.

"They've been bickering for the past 15 minutes whether asking a girl out is easy or not." Hermione stated, clearly upset with the whole situation.

"Are you serious, 'Mione? What are their points of view?" 

"Well, Harry and Ron are obviously struggling to even compliment a girl in the right way but Fred reckons there's nothing easier." 

The girls look at each other and burst out laughing in the next second. "Like he'd know how to ask." Y/N managed to get out of her through her laughter, "however, I must agree with Harry and Ron. They're the most oblivious idiots." 

"Tell me about it." Hermione giggled but a trace of hurt flew over her face and Y/N suddenly felt really sorry for her dear friend. 

"Hey Y/N!" Fred shouted out of the blue, his clear voice echoed through the Great Hall causing other students to perk up their heads in order to find out what possibly he has in mind now. 

Y/N threw a look full of question marks to Hermione before turning her head to the tall red-head. "Yes?"

The moment his typical mischievous grin appeared on his face Y/N knew that something either funny and unpleasant to her or something embarrassing is about to happen.

"Will you..." Fred kept on talking as loudly as possible while wildly gesturing with his arms - apparently pretending to dance, "go to the ball..." now he was just pointing at her and him, "with me?"

Y/N's whole face turned brightly red, her nervous eyes wandering from student to student with such awaiting and amused expressions on their faces. Her heartbeat fastened in the matter of seconds that it seemed like it might jump out of her chest. Y/N looked at Hermione for help with such desperation hidden behind her gaze but her friend just simply shrugged, absolutely shocked with the sudden question, just like Y/N was.

A few seconds passed and Y/N was still sitting at her spot totally speechless. She imagined many times how Fred would ask her to the ball but never in a million years did she think it'd be like this - shouting at her in front of the whole Great Hall with absolutely no sign of sincerity or romance; to her it seemed like some sort of a bet to prove his point.

Their eyes for a moment and Y/N realized that Fred was convinced that she's going to accept his offer, confidence was basically radiating off of him. She knew he's not bragging, Fred was one of the kindest people she'd ever met but sometimes, sometimes he just wasn't able to estimate the situation. 

Anger was slowly bottling up in her as she quickly stood up grabbing all her books. As much as it hurt her to say it, Y/N was still able to straighten up looking directly into his eyes. "Sorry, Weasley, not interested. But thanks for the offer, I feel flattered." The sarcasm in her voice was more than obvious. 

Y/N winked at Hermione, rightly feeling satisfied with her as she heard a few laughs from many students when she walked out of the Great Hall leaving absolutely speechless and embarrassed Fred Weasley. 

•••

Y/N rushed into her dormitory, not wanting to deal with anybody at the moment as the anger was slowly transforming into hurt. This wasn't what she imagined.

She threw herself at her bed; her books were casted off on the ground, papers flying all over the place.

"Y/N! Wait!" a muffled voice of the too familiar Weasley filled her ears and before she knew it, Fred was standing in the middle of her dormitory with flushed cheeks due to the long run, doors slammed shut behind him. 

"Let me explain." he almost begged taking a few steps towards her. She quickly got on her feet as she shook with her head couple of times. "Please, no. I don't care if your intentions were the noblest, but it happened and that's it."

"If you could just let me talk."

But Y/N didn't see the regret in Fred's eyes, or how his hands trembled a little bit, she was way too furious to notice all these things.

"Try to see things from my point of view, Weasley! You basically shouted at me in front of the whole school if I want to go to the ball with you! I understand that you just wanted to prove something to Ron and Harry but this is not a game for me."

Every single word that left her mouth went straight to Fred's heart. He never in a million years intended to hurt Y/N, he'd rather suffer himself than have something happen to her. But he was scared, Fred felt truly terrified of asking her out and when the boys confronted him about it, he panicked. He didn't have an idea why he reacted that way. The pounding heart, sweaty palms, the hotness in his cheeks - all this was new to Fred Weasley and he wasn't sure what do to with his stormy emotions.

"I'm real sorry, Y/N. I didn't want to offend you but that doesn't mean I don't stand behind what I said earlier." he tried to ease the tense in the small room, his lips even formed into a cute little innocet smile.

"I don't know, Weasley. I simply think-"

"Let me make it up to you! The ball's tomorrow, just say yes."

Then they were there - Fred's puppy eyes that no matter how serious the problem was, Y/N wasn't able to bring herself to say no. She knew he's very well aware of that fact, he somehow managed to melt her heart.

"Fine. I'll go to the Yulle ball with you, Weasley. Don't make me regret it."

"I can certainly promise you that, Y/L/N."

•••

Y/N was nervously pacing in her new white dress that she got from Mrs. Weasley while Hermione was watching her with an amused expression.

"You know, this isn't funny." she frowned but a part of her was telling her how unreasonably ridiculous she is.

"Actually it is," her best friend couldn't held back the laughter, "you'll be fine. I bet he's even more nervous than you are." 

"Hermione! His mum thinks I'm bloody dating him!" 

"That's just so perfect. Maybe you will be after tonight."

Their eyes met for a moment and then, as if their minds were connected, the girls started giggling like some 13-year-olds. Y/N finally relaxed a bit, just like Hermione did, as they both promised themselves to look after each other during the evening.

"So what do you think?" Y/N winked at her friend, "shall we?"

"Absolutely."

•••

The duo walked together down the stairs leading to the dance hall, side by side, both of them smiling widely. Y/N found Fred's tall figure right away as he was nervously pacing back and forth mumbling something under his breath while George watched him amused. Just like Hermione watched her a couple minutes ago. God, how similar they could be.

"Well done, brother dear. Fucking well done." George whispered into his twin's ear tapping his shoulder. Fred's gaze immediately landed on approaching Y/N making him stop in his tracks. George just smirked and left with his own date to give them some privacy.

Fred was closely watching her every step, how elegantly she carried herself through the room, the beautiful white dress flew around her making her look like an angel descending from the sky. 

"Blimey, I don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful like you." Fred breathed out, his eyes roaming all over her body.

"You don't look too bad as well, Weasley." Y/N blushed at his compliment as she sent him one nervous smile. The truth was, he looked way more better than just 'not bad' and she had to remind herself not to stare at him too much. He pulled her into his side, his scent and warmth immediately embracing her, and she found herself falling for this dangerously good looking red-head. 

"Everybody's turning their heads after you. I swear I even saw a smile on Snape's face." Fred pointed out, his voice filled with obvious jealousy as his grip on her waist tightened. 

"I don't care, just hold me, Fred." Y/N gave him a reassuring smile taking his hand in his, "just hold me."

"I never wanted anything more." 

[unilightwrites]

writeblrs intro - the show is starting

Hi there! I'm Helen, the mind behind Unilight Writes - a blog I wanted to get out to actually do something with my writing. I think I'll be treating this as a safe space to motivate me to get the things I imagine out of my head and onto paper. Or a screen I guess. Semantics. Now, the last time I used Tumblr was years back when I was very much an angsty teen - I feel kind of confused and out of place but I hope to find a curious community here! And maybe send bullshit asks my friends' way. But hush. ANYHOW, not to drone on any longer - I enjoy and plan to work on some things during my... uh... stay? Yeah, let's roll with stay.

I'd love to share ideas and concepts that rattle around my brain with you all! I'm always up for discussions and questions, maybe some practice in going Random Bullshit, Go!. I'm looking for inspiration, whether it be phrasing, art, other creative expression or simply reading through works of storytellers. Gods only know how exhaustive is creativity. Characters. Just, characters. Making them alive, making them lovable or deserving of hate, evoking emotion through the creation of their mind. WORLDBUILDING. Don't get me even started! drafting and coming up with scenarios and little details for the worlds inside our heads is simply one of the best things ever. The dreaded word - WIP. I intend to share or showcase bits and pieces of my work that are stuffed so deep inside my mental closets that it's even deeper than I was before coming out. Anyhow - ill be leaving it out for you lot, whether you want it or not. That's my hubris right there, the true purpose of Unilight Writes Some general things about me: - I've always wanted to write and bring forward the stories of my imagination - but I think that to be a common thing among us here. Why write if you have nothing to say, why write if you don't want to. I did some writing when I was younger but I gave it up to focus more on school work. Guess what! school is not in the picture for the time being so here I go, doing what I love once again! - I'm rekindling a lot of old flames here. I started reading for pleasure again (right now I'm going through Memoirs of Lady Isabella Trent, a great pick for anyone who enjoys dragons and women in science, but make it victorian!) and relearned how to entertain the imagination in my head. I'd die for a nice fantasy book but I'm not that big on sci-fi. Anything in fantasy -low, high, medium, medieval, modern, whatever. Unless we're talking SJM, I'm out the second there is harp music in my spicy scenes. - I'm pretty interested in random Wikipedia bullshit, researching nonsense topics, and drawing inspiration from folklore and cultures I have yet to fully experience. - Music-wise I'm bordering all subgenres of folk - indie, rock, alt. Anything is fair game, to be honest - I'm all for DnD. If you play it? Amazing. If you don't? Welcome to my table, young one, lets's go on an adventure. I love how expressive it is and the degree of creativity you can have around it. - I'm trying to learn cardistry. Honestly, I'm rather shit at it but I'm doing my best and it's absolutely exhilarating. Doing all those little card tricks and shuffles is a great way to actually let my mind wander and come back with solutions instead of panic. - I absolutely ADORE piercings and tattoos, they're the main part of my everyday aesthetic (plus, if you have a nice sketch of a duck in a burglar outfit that's stealing a pack of cigarettes, please please hit me up, I want that tattooed) - I use she/they pronouns and consider myself queer - putting a label has helped me a lot in the early parts of my self-actualization but now I'm just as confused as back then and I can't be bothered to do anything about it. Now, seeing as all three pre-play rings did their thing - lets have a seat and glance upon the absolute bastard of a child my brian came up with: "The Grand Circus" It's currently my one and only work in progress. It's very much still in the preliminary steps of development, but it's there! The novel will follow the life of Varadia - a person living in a world filled to the brim with magickal creatures taken from a fair share of different cultures and belief systems. Ever since being a wobbly child, she wanted to join the Grand Circus - a troupe of travelling artists that showcase all around the continent. And now after years of self-training, she will get the chance to audition. But as always, there are a lot of political intrigues and people being not quite who they seem to be. With a double layer to everything, she'll have to navigate a wide world she hasn't seen before, alone save for her newfound family - other performers

[ghostboyjules]

a new thing I've been doing mentally, and deciding to label it as "learning to tolerate myself even a little bit" has been allowing myself to post dumb shit and just. leave it up.

like I'll post something, whether on snapchat as a private story, or in the tags here, or a reblog, and a bit later I'll look at it and be like "god this is so embarrassing delete it delete it delete it". and in the past I absolutely would have. hell, in the past I would have drafted it, read it until I hated it (& myself just a bit more), and then deleted it. wouldn't ever see the light of day.

now though? here recently, I've been posting things that are personal. things I like, or how my mental health is doing, or what I'm thinking generally. I post it. like I make it that far - there's a step. and I let it be. there's another step. everytime I happen to glance back at it on snapchat or I see someone in the notes reblogging the post I spilled my guts in the tags to, and my brain starts screaming and lighting things on fire and breaking shit trying to get me to delete it-

I've started telling myself "no. leave it up. let them see. let you see. you felt this. you're 24, this isn't even embarrassing. you are existing in a space you created for yourself. not making a fool of yourself by 'being cringe' or whatever the fuck has been ingrained in your brain. it's fine to exist."

and I could go into why or how i came to be this way (the stuffing myself down into easily manageable, quiet, unopinionated shapes of a person pretending to be a girl) , but I feel like, to some, it's obvious. to a few others, you probably know exactly what I mean and can probably guess.

but I just wanted to share this cause I'm kinda proud of myself? for what feels like maybe the first time (lol), and to just say to anyone who sees this: It's Fine to exist. Maybe even Nice sometimes, but it's definitely fine. take up space, be loud, even. I'm 24 and I wanna talk abt my favorite show, and I wanna rant abt my job, and I want to post emo song lyrics for my 5 close friends to look at and know I'm being sad about, like the drama queen inner me wants to be. and that's fine.

I'm existing, and that's fine.

[intothehawkseyes]

The Dancer in the Moonlight - Dracule Mihawk x Female OC/Reader (N.S.F.W)

hello, it's been 84 years... but i'm here to update this fanfic uwu

warnings: alcohol

word count: 3k

ao3, spirit (português)

if you are a new reader, you can find the first chapter here and welcome, i hope you enjoy it! to the older readers, i hope you forgive me for the late update and keep interested :( but the next chapter will be coming up sooner than this one and will be nsfw!

but, have a good read, and comments are greatly welcome and sorry for any mistake!!! <3

A legend was heard over the seas and on land about an event that changed the lunar cycle of an entire island. According to what was said, on a night of strong storm, a woman goes into labor at sea, alone, in a small sailing boat. Right after the first baby cry, the waves stop and the moon that lit up behind dense clouds begins to make room for the biggest star. Astonished, the island's inhabitants watch the postpartum woman return safely with the baby in her arms, while trying to understand how someone could survive in a small boat in the middle of a storm at sea, as they have never witnessed such a phenomenon. In addition to the miraculous birth, they also saw the sun entering the moon's front, leaving them even more open-mouthed. The most emotional ones say that the eclipse happened because the baby would be the “Heir of the Moon”, and the Sun was the first guest to visit her at her birth. And even within the legend, from that moment on, the location of the island simply disappeared from all compasses, preventing people from going after the truth, thus putting the child's safety at risk, as it was graced by a strange power coming from the Moon, and could attract a lot of malicious people. However, with the passage of time, the legend fell into the oblivion of adults and became just a story for children.

Even though there is no evidence as to the veracity of the correlation with the legendary island, as it is no more than a fictional story, there is actually an island named Gesshoku¹, which is well known for producing the best wines, and many believe that this one island is the same one present in the story and the speculation comes from the suggestive name that surrounds the natural satellite – so present in the legend – and the fact that it does not appear in any compass.

However, although it seemed complicated to go there, it is not difficult to find pirates who have visited Gesshoku Island, and it is said to be located on the edge of the Grand Line, at a point where the ocean waters are treacherous, making many vessels diverted to the Calm Belt, making the adventure extremely dangerous.

Regardless of what is real or fiction, whether there is any heir to the Moon with strange powers or not, I went to Gesshoku Island just for the wine.

Contrary to all the rumors surrounding arriving on the island at the risk of being thrown to a stationary place and loaded with kings of the seas, my trip was smooth, and I got there without any harm.

The first thing I noticed upon arriving was the hospitality of the locals. Everyone always with smiles on their faces ready to welcome each foreigner who docked their boats and ships in the port. With me it was no different, something that was not always the case as I was usually received by crossed and contemptuous looks. Still, I left my boat moored in a strategic, remote corner, always on the lookout in case something went wrong along the way.

I went there with the script already decided. First I would look for an inn to stay in, and leave my little luggage and soon after I would go to a winery to learn more about wine making and only then would I go out in search of information about the place and its customs. However, the energy of the island, which I hadn't identified right away, meant that plans were all put aside so that fate would define each visitor's itinerary. I was no exception.

The first sign that my itinerary was not going to work was when all the inns and hotels were full, I only got a place very far from the central area, which made me frustrated, but the room was clean, spacious and quiet, so I stayed right there. The second sign was that the wineries were closed due to a pest that had spread to almost all the vines, resulting in a considerable reduction in the production of wines.

Maybe I should have checked out of the inn at that moment, but I insisted, because the trip, although calm, had been long and I wouldn't waste money and time like that.

Resigned, I stopped in front of a bar and for a quick glance I saw a rather presentable cellar. I entered. And it was in this bar that I would come to know the lady of my life and the one responsible for my misfortune, even if she wasn't aware of it at that point.

♚♛

I was just sipping the wine, alert enough not to be caught off guard, but not enough to pay attention to the unrestrained in and out of the bar. I just wanted to relax and enjoy the moment of peace presented to myself after so many setbacks. However, my peace was shaken when, in a fraction of a second, and in the rare glances I gave the establishment's door, my eyes caught the figure of a woman who entered the place. She would be just another random customer that would leave my mind the instant she was no longer within sight of my eyes if it weren't for her imposing way of carrying herself. Something about her made my eyes nab at her image, maybe it was the elegant way of tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, or the almost sensual way of crossing her legs – quite attractive, by the way –, and straightening her posture as she sat in the front chair at the counter after ordering.

It was involuntary the way I followed her every gesture with my eyes. I can't explain it, but I just couldn't take my eyes off that woman. She chatted amiably with the bartender, like good old friends, and my curiosity and desire to get closer to her only grew as she tilted her head back to laugh at something the man had said to her. She was unusually different from other women, who carried themselves in a restrained manner, always hiding their mouths with their hands when they laughed. But that stranger didn't seem to care what others might say, she acted spontaneously, in such a way that it would be impossible not to notice her. Despite the flashy aura emanating from her, I seemed to be the only one affected there. I reined in my instincts and turned my attention to my wine, which no longer tasted so good, still intrigued that I had been so uneasy in the presence of this strange lady.

Though I tried not to look at her too much, I still wasn't able to contain the urge to take a few furtive glances in the direction she was sitting and talking to the attendant, condemning me for acting like a fool because she didn't seem to have the same interest in me, since she hadn't even looked at where I was, as her friend had sometimes done.

But to my surprise, before I could leave my seat to settle my bill, she was quicker to get up, still looking at the bartender, and pointing to a bottle of wine that was in a prominent place, which was one of those that should be opened on very special occasions. Which seemed to be the case with her, since she said out loud – too loud – that this was a special night and that she wouldn't be tasting the wine alone. After that, she straightened her robes before grabbing the bottle and leaving the bar, this time holding my gaze with those unreadable eyes.

I was never a man to prioritize dating – that's not exactly the right word to describe my relationships with the opposite gender, although I kept my sex life active as much as possible. I've also never been stubborn about moving mountains to get someone. I have always been objective and valued for mutual interest. When I had the need to indulge myself sexually with a woman, I specifically went out looking for it. However, the instant that mysterious lady entered the same bar I was in, my focus completely changed. I felt an itch grow in my lower belly and a restlessness took possession of my being.

After she left the establishment with that bottle of wine, her words began to echo in my mind with an undertone of reproach to my fixation. Surely she would have a boyfriend or even be married, I figured. So I put it in the back of my mind, in a place with difficult access, and headed towards the inn to take a shower and then decide to go back to my house. This island had already brought me enough trouble and I wasn't about to face another one.

And once again something stopped my plans.

Along the way, I heard the voices of three children whispering to each other, as if they were deciding who would approach someone. When I get angry and turn around to tell the three of them to shut up, my eyes lock on the tiny figure of a girl of about nine or ten years old, and I completely forget the reprimand for being amazed at the child's stark resemblance to the woman from the bar.

"Hello you!!" she says in a small voice, forcing a sympathetic smile. “Today there's going to be a festival here, can you attend…?”, she tried to formulate sentences while nervously gesturing with her hands, which were holding a crumpled piece of paper. “Here! It's tonight, don't go away because there will be good wine!” she said before throwing the crumpled paper near my feet, which I assumed was so I could pick it up and read it, and run off with the other two boys who were with her. In the distance I could hear them questioning what their sister had seen in a man so terrifying that he had made her fall in love.

I would have ignored the paper if I hadn't overheard such a conversation. So I picked it up and stuffed it into my pocket and headed to the inn, this time succeeding in my goal.

♚♛

After my shower, I rested in the lounging chair while reading a book I had picked up in the small library of the inn where I talked about the island. A curious thing was the value they placed on their customs and pride in their local culture.

Although focused on reading, my mind diverged on how interesting was the existing variety of children's books about the child "Heir of the Moon" in all ways, illustrated, in comic book form, short stories, lullabies and etc., which made me wonder if Gesshoku Island couldn't really be home to such a legend.

But that aside, I finished reading the book and intended to take it back to the library. The piece of paper given to me by the child earlier fell with a photo of one of my overcoat pockets as soon as I picked it up. This time I paid attention to it. It was a pamphlet about the festival and information, no biggie. However, the possibility that that woman was there crossed my mind, and this idea only intensified when I noticed that the photo that had fallen next to the brochure, which I deduced had been purposely placed there, was of a young woman with unreadable eyes, the same ones that met mine at the bar.

Maybe a festival wasn't such a bad thing. I was there for the distraction, after all. With that in mind, I gained the inn hallway and headed toward the library.

♚♛

When the sun was already fading over the horizon, from the window of the room I was staying in, I could see a crowd taking on an increasingly voluminous shape. The winemakers were already preparing to open the best wines from their respective cellars to offer their customers and also juices for those who were not old enough to drink alcoholic beverages.

The festival took place once a year, from what I've read about the island's culture, and there was no specific day, just so that any obstacles would not prevent the event from happening – such as the last one in which a plague spread through the winery –, and so that the strangers present would not return home without knowing the most valuable thing the island could offer.

I stayed on the porch just as an observer, I wasn't in the mood to face that crowd of people, although I wanted to taste a good wine, I knew that place was exceptional for that. So I preferred to wait patiently for the right time and also when the excitement of the beginning of the party calmed down a little. Furthermore, the best wines would be the last to be opened, as it was a way of holding as many people as possible.

Between glances at the movement below, I caught the moment when the three children from earlier appeared in the crowd. With the same energy, but much more excited. Even though I was a considerable distance away, I could see them passing each booth to look at the treats while a young woman approached them to pay for what they ordered. And the lady was the same one from the bar, as I thought.

And that was my cue for me to enjoy the festival too.

Lucky for me, people were too busy enjoying the festivities and entertaining the festival's attractions. I was one more among so many people, and so I went unnoticed by any enemies who were there. With this feeling of tranquility, I was also able to enjoy it in my own way, in a more remote location.

After a while there, I was able to feel much more at ease. The island's atmosphere and energy were welcoming and made anyone feel at home. Maybe it was the way the locals treated the outsiders, with a lot of sympathy and smiles, or maybe it was the wine I had drunk but any irritation caused by the adversities throughout the day seemed to have completely disappeared and I tasted of a tranquility that only then I felt when I was in my house.

After just watching the coming and going of people, between sips of wine and another, my eyes caught the moment when a cluster of people formed around an enigmatic figure of a woman. Before I could think too hard or try to figure out her identity, the dancer began a shy, slow dance. The restrained gestures were encouraged by the small audience around her and they began to create a firmer and more precise form. The way that woman was gesturing was familiar to me, but I didn't try to remember as I wanted to watch it. I must admit that I carry a fascination with dancing with me, although I've never talked about it with anyone. It's really interesting to see how someone manages to use their body to express themselves, which was the case in the middle of the festival. The dancer in question seemed to have mastered the art of dancing and was in full control of every member of her body, as the dance had steps that only someone with a lot of training could reproduce, and these were performed with such skill that they looked as smooth as a feather. .

As I was far away, almost hidden in the dimness, the dancing woman had her back to me, so I only had a view of her back, which was covered in light, thin fabrics that reminded her of veils and that hid her body curves. But the feeling of familiarity only increased as the dance progressed to a climax, and at that moment the person turned and as if it were predestined, our eyes met and it was as if everything had cleared: it was the girl from the bar.

Even though her eyes were covered by a kind of transparent mask, I would have recognized them from yards away. And the moment she noticed my presence, her movements abruptly changed. If before they were firm and precise, now they seemed much looser and more sensual. The dance took another turn and my sanity was almost taken with it.

The dancer did not lose focus as she changed the tone of her dance, quite the contrary, the transition was made so smoothly that it was not noticeable. Still hidden in my personal space almost in darkness, my eyes followed her every movement of her hips and my mind immersed in nasty thoughts. Her silhouette wasn't well defined due to her fabrics, but that didn't stop me from tracing her in my imagination. She used her hands too, with her eyes locked on mine, gesturing as if inviting me to join her, and as soon as she changed direction, breaking our eye contact, and unpretentiously she moved and the fabrics fluttered so that I got a glimpse of her curves for milliseconds, but enough to take my breath away. She really knew what she was doing and used all her weapons to get what she wanted. I just let myself go.

However, her dancing not only caught my attention, but also some pirates present there, who began to direct her obscene words, which she didn't seem to hear, as she didn't change her way of dancing for even a second. I continued as a passive spectator, just watching the unfolding of the event, she continued the dance and I kept my attention on her, and the pirates too, until the point came that one of them dared to invade the dancer's personal space and from that what unfolded was very fast: a very loud popping noise and the power outage that lasted for less than thirty seconds, but when everything lit up again, the dancer was no longer on her stage and in her place only one purple pink smoke poured from the floor. It was a cheap trick, but it was effective because the pirates were like dizzy cockroaches trying to figure out where the woman had gone.

She had come towards me, I just felt her presence sneak past me leaving a trail of soft perfume and a touch on my hand causing a new shiver down my spine, out of the corner of my eye I saw her disappearing once and for all into the darkness.

Still a little dizzy from the alcohol, but much more sober than before, I made my way to the inn room where I would check-out.

I made the journey slowly, packed my things and took a new shower to chase away any traces of drunkenness and left the place after paying off the bill and headed towards the place where my boat was moored, not without first searching all the places in search of the woman who had disturbed my mind all day, not finding her. Resigned, I decided to leave.

I unhitched it and advanced the boat towards the ocean that would take me back home, but before I could make my way home I saw her finally. This time she was sitting on the dock, as if waiting for someone, and unlike the baggy clothes that hid her curves, she now wore a tight red dress, fully defining her voluptuous figure. Beside her was the bottle of wine she'd picked up earlier at the bar and two crystal glasses. I risked walking past her, and I didn't have to do anything to get her attention, because as soon as she looked at me and gave me a crystalline smile. Seeing her up close, she looked even more beautiful.

We didn't say anything, as if we understood each other mutely, she held out the wine and glasses to me and I picked them up and set them down in a corner of the boat and then it was time to put her there. I pulled her around the waist and now she was much closer to me and I was now able to see every detail of her face. As beautiful as the full moon that illuminated the entire island imposingly.