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that-student-that-has-homework · 2 months

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Pretty Girl - Portgas D. Ace

I read this lovely little snippet by @mrsoharaa and felt the need to know what would happen next. Written with permission!

Check out my MasterList for more of my writing!

To be fair, Marco actually wasn’t teasing him this time. He’d been nose deep in a book and was just as deep in his thoughts when he’d made the request.

“Hey Ace, can you go and call” the first division commander squinted at the book, trying to recall the words but was clearly too distracted to, “can you call-we-what was-just call your pretty girl for me yoi?”

He wasn’t teasing him this time.

Ace had just simply had enough.

//—----------

It had started in the morning? maybe afternoon? who knows what time it was…after some good old fashion pirate revelry until who knows what hour of the evening.

He’d woken up in some weird kinda angle on some random corner of the ship, with a bit of a headache. So like any other day, he made his way over to the kitchen to get some food to fix his problem. After all, if his head hurt, he probably just needed some food, right?

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the slick Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates,” the Division Commander in question blinked at his Fourth Division counterpart, his lips pulling up at the strange greeting.

What’d he mean by slick though? Just thinking about it made his head squeeze, so he decided to push it off until he had some food in his system.

“Thatch, I’m hungry,” he declared as he slumped himself on the kitchen counter, throwing his bottom half on a stool there, “gimme somethin’ to eat.”

“Comin’ right up,” the cook shot him an amused grin as he went about grabbing his disgruntled younger brother-in-arms some food.

“Hungover?” The question came from Ace’s side, where the head doctor sat, sipping on a cup of…well it wasn’t alcohol.

“Huh?” The younger man just blinked, trying to get the fog out of his brain. “Nah.” He rolled onto his side to better face his older brother. “Just got a headache.”

“Sounds like a hangover to me yoi,” the doc grinned over the rim of his mug.

Ace didn’t pay him much mind though, waiting for his food to arrive.

Though his silence seemed to encourage his companion, “especially with how much you drank last night.”

“Wasn’t that much,” he ruffled his hair in hopes to alleviate some of the pounding in his head.

“It was enough that you called a certain someone ‘pretty girl.’”

A moment of silence passed as Ace continued to aggressively knead at his scalp. His mind very sluggishly processing Marco’s words…he was just about to fall asleep again with how much his he-

HE DID WHAT?!

That blew all the fog and grog out of Ace’s brain and body, as he all but sprung to his feet in shock. The medic in front of him offered him little more than his usual lazy, lopsided grin.

The vertigo hit him right as the adrenaline wore off, and he was clutching to the counter to save himself from smacking into the ground. His grip only tightened as he heard footsteps from the other side of the counter rejoin them.

“Yo Ace, I fixed you a plate for your pretty girl too,” he chirped sliding over two plates, “if you wanted to go and deliver it to her.”

It had been a while since Pops had clobbered him, but the memory of his audacious, disastrous, flirty remark hit him much like one of Pops’ fists did. Of all things, he only came up with pretty girl?

He-just-urgh-just-just where was his hat when he needed it? He resorted to using his hands to hide his face from the other two commanders. He didn’t need to see them to know they were grinning - they were just oozing with entertainment.

“Ah don’t worry slick,” he could hear Thatch’s voice getting closer, “I’d say she took it well enough.”

The way the cook only barely got his sentence out before he and Marco broke out into snickers said otherwise. Ace grabbed his plate of food and moved to find a different corner of the massive galleon to eat in.

For the next few days, the different commanders would wink, snicker, smirk, borderline leer at him whenever you were in his general vicinity. They weren’t subtle about it, given pirates were generally as subtle as a sea king on land. They didn’t have to say it out loud for him to hear it though:

“Pretty girl.”

The behavior spread to the rest of the crew like wildfire. He’d have compared the spread to some nasty disease, but those usually knocked people out. Unfortunately this one seemed to rile them up, everyone seemed overly eager to be able to poke at him for his drunken declaration. By the end of the week, even the swabbies were in on it. They weren’t as bad as the commanders, but…ugh. Just…anyhow you’d think that, after a week, it would become old news, but no.

Nope.

Not this news.

Seems everyone on this damn ship was a gossip. Grown ass grizzled pirates, reduced to giggling gossiping gaggles of gremlins. The Second Division Commander couldn’t go for more than a few hours without hearing some kinda comment, or getting some kinda look.

Even pops was in on it now!

He’d found out when the old man had grinned at him, what was worse was that it was a good-natured grin. He wasn’t teasing him…but what he said to him, as a kind of encouragement, had left this poor son of Whitebeard feeling more flustered than ever.

Unfortunately all his attempts at getting the crew to cut it out were falling on deaf ears. His fellow commanders in particular had no problem ignoring his requests and continuing to tease him, which of course emboldened the rest of the crew.

Of course the worst part had to be…well, there was no way you didn’t know about what was happening. After all, you always put on an unbothered face, but he knew it had to be making you uncomfortable. After all it wasn’t like he’d ever followed up on that pretty girl comment while sober. Though he wouldn’t deny the little amused simpers that you’d put on whenever your fellow crew mates would leer at him had his heart doing little flips.

Anyway…

Things had finally died down a bit, with Ace getting some peace of mind. People had finally gotten bored. Meaning he could probably try…y’know…approaching you while sober…

Well they’d mostly died down…

//—--

“SHE IS PRETTY ALRIGHT?!” Yeah he’d had enough. “Do none of y'all have eyes?!” He raged on, over a week’s worth of agitation erupting from him violently.

“So what if I called her pretty girl?” There was a kind of catharsis in seeing the First Division Commander staring at him bug-eyed. “It wasn't a lie!” He threw his hands up in agitation. “That's for sure.”

“Uh A-”

“Like you all don't state the obvious sometimes!” He pointed an accusatory finger at everyone who was in the infirmary…which wasn’t much, but Thatch hadn’t left yet and he was one of the guys that teased him the most!

“A-”

“And!” He was burning up the whole place and there was no stopping him. “I never said she was my pretty girl! I just said she was a pretty girl!” Little flickers of fire left his shoulders. “And she definitely is pretty!” He flexed his fingers. “Gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, all the words that mean that!”

The Second Division Commander’s chest and shoulders heaved from the way he was panting after his rant. Man it felt good to get it off his chest.

He shook his head, getting the remaining frustration out before rolling his shoulders out. He felt a whole lot better. He stretched his neck, before turning to look at his stunned fellow commanders.

“Hey Thatch, I’m hungry,” he grinned, “can you make me something to eat? Or should I just go raid the fridge?”

That seemed to snap the cook out of it, “keep yourself out of my fridge and out of my kitchen hotshot!”

“Uh…Ace,” the fiery man turned to look at the medic that had sparked this outburst.

“Oh Marco, what did you need again?” He’d asked him to do something before mentioning you.

“It’s no problem yoi,” strange, the doctor seemed to be looking behind him.

Was there someone behind him? The young commander turned around -

Shoot.

He hadn’t said anything negative! But dang what he said sure as hell was damning. He must sound like a total creep. Just going on and on about how pretty he thinks you are. Could someone just launch him into the sea?

It didn’t help that the most unrelenting of the division commanders were here to see this horrifying display. They weren’t ever going to let him live this dow-

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, hope pulling your lips up tentatively. “Even while sober?”

Ace managed to nod at that.

Gosh he felt stupid. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it. Why was he so trash at trying to compliment you?

“Well I think you’re pretty too,” you gave him a good-natured smile, “so there, we’re even.”

“Really?” Gah! Why was that the first thing out of his mouth?

Oh gosh it was so cute the way you fiddled with your fingers. You only ever did that when you were nervous-you only ever did that when you were nervous.

“I mean,” you grinned, “haven’t you ever looked in a mirror Ace?”

Ace was sure he’d turned his face to fire at that point. He was here fumbling over his feet like a baby dear, and you were so smooth, you might as well be polishing the deck with wax.

“Um, in case that wasn’t clear,” you continued, “yes, really Ace, you’re pretty.”

Thatch let out a low whistle then, “well would you look at that,” he grinned, “a pretty boy for a pretty girl.”

“Stop teasing him Thatch,” you sighed, shooting the cook a look, “you’ve all teased him more than enough already.”

“Yo,” the longtime resident of the infirmary called out to you, “I was actually going to send Ace to find you yoi.”

“Oh did you need something Marco?” You walked further into the room, passing by the stunned pretty boy.

“Were you busy today yoi?”

“Not really, why? Did you need help?”

You thought he was pretty too?

Would you consider, maybe, going out on a date? He couldn’t help but stare at you as you continued to talk with his First Division Counterpart. He wasn’t about to ask you here, in front of these jerks, but maybe later…

Maybe later…

When you were sitting on the bow looking up at the stars that dotted the night sky. He’d ask you.

And you’d say yes.

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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woodle-isbae · 2 months

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Connie the type to...

Connie springer x reader

Warnings: Not proof read , Fluff , Gender neutral reader

Lmk if I missed anything

~~~~~

☆Connie the type to save a bunch of nail , hair and outfit inspos for diffrent occasions just for yall

☆Connie the type to be loud in public , I mean he talk about EVERYTHING , It could go from you needing pads to which position he wants to put you in

☆Connie the type to cook the most mouth watering , lip biting , tear dropping food but once a while

☆Connie the type to complain abt something then like it the next minute

☆Connie the type to get you guys subtle matching things , like perfumes/colognes , hair dye , shoe laces and even cutlery

☆Connie the type to have a book set just for you , it has everything about you! Ranging from your favorite food to the small things you do when your slightly excited

☆Connie the type to write down your family's birthdays in that book and help you get gifts for them

☆Connie the type to be LOVED by your mother, she cooks up meals you never had before just for him ♡

☆Connie the type to get you a controller so you can play with him 😭

☆Connie the type to genuinely be a sweet person , even tho he jokes around alot , he's always gonna be there to help you

☆Connie the type to me My mannnn🤭

~~~

A small drable since I've been busy 💕

#aot x black reader #chubby!reader #aot connie #aot x reader #connie springer x reader #connie x black reader #connie x you #aot fanfiction #aot fluff #aot #Aza's fics

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Hey did you ever end up posting that yandere plants one with the bee reader and I missied it?? Was looking forward to that one

(I have not. A drable for you, chief)

The queen has requested another harvest.

What impeccable timing.

Climbing from rubble and frayed vines, vegetation and ash falls from your hair and shoulders. Extra care is put into your wings as you brush them off for the flight ahead. Held by a loose spine, you blow the decades of dust off your new find - kicking spray particles into the air. Through water eyes you read the books cover - fuzzy tension building at the base of your nose.

It's another picture book.

They're going to love this one-

"Ahh... Achoo!... 'Cuse me."

Apologizing to the thin air around you, you unhook the fine straps of your satchel and toss the book inside. You turn your gaze to the hole in the ceiling as your wings flutter, feet kick-starting your ascent as you rise. The mellowed glow of the fog casted sun greets you first as you exit; a jungle of greenery and constructs waiting the earth below and as far as the eye could see. You climb up onto the ledge of the building and leap off into a nose dive for the ground - wings swooping into mobility before your body hits the trees. Flying lose did have its risks, but nothing beats the floral air in your hair when heading home - reminding you of those counting on your return.

Scouting the known galaxy for resources, your crew landed on this planet in a time you no longer recall accurately. Overtaken by plants of all variety, it seemed like the perfect harvest - until it wasn't. As unaccounted cargo, you were sparred the horrors they faced at the hands of the planet's few remaining natives. Asleep during the bloodbath you woke crowd by the new inhabitants of this land - sentient creatures grown from rich soil and crimes against anatomy.

Their creators feared what they had created and went to war destroying what they had birthed with their own hands - wiped out in the end by their superior strengths and numbers. Despite this carnage, they were a peaceful race and tried to rescue your crew, but failed. Finding your journals tucked into your sleeping arms they enlisted your aid as a florist in the upkeep of what remains of their home in exchange for their pollen and a roof over your head.

Base in sight, you speed through the thick fog in your descent to its open doors. A planetarium with an open ceiling has come your home in this time. You missed your comfy bed, but a hammock under the stars surrounded by those you now held dear was just as nice. You enter the building, breath fleeing as your snatched from behind. Not a step through the door and you're suspended in the air at the waist by hanging vines.

"And just where have you been, my sneaky little pest?"

Thorn-like claws grace your cheek, curving up to the crown of your head where they cautiously prod at your sensitive antennae. Amused, they chitter in delight as you struggle in your blinds - most likely held by another member of the collective. Beyond the palms of their woven hands, this one was covered near entirely in stained prickles. Violet petals spiked from the upper half of their hair and draped over their mocking grin

"You know you aren't allowed to leave without a guide. What ever would we do if our heart was taken by those savages, hm? I think a punishment is in order, don't you?"

"Seems so if they can't obey simple rules. With that lovely picture on knot tying they brought us the other day, I'm sure we can get up to lots of fun before the others figure out where we are."

Lowered closer to the floor, strong arms embrace you from behind and lead your head against their chest. Small, hanging buds sprouted up the lengths of their arms mark their class - their reddish yellow hue staking their typing. Cooing ever so cloyingly sweet in your ear, it rubs the humanoid half of its face against your cheek.

"You were scheduled to start the day with us. Don't you love us anymore? We may not be as approachable at the others, but we adore you all the same."

You swallow hard, trapped between a wall and thorns. "Thistle.... Honeysuckle.. but I can never find you two."

"But we're always watching. Can't let you get into trouble. Or pick a favorite. If you accept us as your guards for the rest of the week maybe we'll let you go. If not...."

The vines tighten around your hips - released almost instantly as they're snipped by an unseen party. You stumble forward, caught and picked up by another pair of arms.

"What have I told you two about picking on them? One more time and I'm sending you both to the greenhouse.... Are you alright, darling?"

Bright as the golden sun, their petals almost blind you as you look up. The leader, and the first floral creature you met - Marigold was your sworn protector even from those with you in their care. A strict, yet understanding calm to the storm life in the compound was. As they set you down, Thistle scoffs.

"Always the spotlight stealer. Would you keep it down before the others realized they've returned?"

It's a bit too late for that.

"Y/n? Y/n back?!"

"Oh, I was so worried I fear I may start wilting!"

"Y/n, Y/n! We have a ripe patch of peaches for you!"

From the shadows of the trees and handmade structures comes the entire horde. They push through each other getting to you and overwork your brain with their chatter. Over a dozen bodies crowded around your lone figure. Through the sea, the shortest of them swims through the crowd and manages their way up to you - head centered at your navel. Head cocked, they seem to be staring to your lips.

"Cuckoo? Is everything alright?"

They smile. Grabbing your shirt, you're bent forward into an open mouth kiss. All the commotion ceases immediately as a wave of surprises washes over them all. Patting the walls of your cheeks their segmented tongue, Cuckoo only pulls away when they're torn from you. Lifting the smaller flower by its shoulders, Thistle clenches their teeth tight.

"What on earth was that?"

The question was genuine. None of them were fully traversed in the act of kissing beyond brief tellings in the books you brought to learn more about the planet left behind for them. Agriculture and construction were common reads, but if they got lucky you'd find old story books, comics and novels. Cuckoo holds up a page from one of those very stories - the couple displayed entangled in a heat of passion with lips locked. Heads staring over their shoulder snap in your direction. You'd used the direction to scramble away and travel further into their lair.

"I wanna try..."

Even Marigold couldn't save you now. Taking advantage of your gift of flight, you dart into the air aiming for the second floor where your bedroom stood.

"I would love to help you all, but I need to get started on my letter for my queen. She has requested more pollen, and I wasn't able to get one out in the last run. As soon as it's out of the way, I can come back and we can - Ah!"

Fashioning a lasso from their vines, you're dragged down into the frenzy with no escape in the near future. As is your life with the horde.

A queen sits alone on her throne. Letter opener gripped in her palm, she stabs it though her throne as the words describing your escapade slash through her heart. Stomping the battered floor, her veil of submission cracks.

"This has gone on for too long. My garden is in shambles and so will this kingdom until their return."

The servant at her feet keeps their voice low. "My queen... Their service there is doing quite the opposite. Our reserves are at maximum capacity and with the treaty there's no need for war and needless casualties. I know of your bond and I am sorry for your lost."

Like an arrow, the queen's dagger rips through the air and anchors in the wall behind the servant. Golden blood beads in a line across their cheek. Unbridled rage and disgust seeps from her icy glare like poison. She refuses to look directly in their eye, staring off at the shoulders behind them.

"Get. This. Traitor- OUT. RIP THEIR WINGS AND LEAVE THEM FOR DEAD. if they aren't on my wall by dawn, I will take yours as payment."

Eyes wide, the servant lunges for her robes as the guards take their arms. "My lady, please! You cannot do this! I was trying to make things better! Y/n will never forgive you!"

She spits.

"And cut out their tongue."

Screams echoing down the halls, the queen curls up in her throne - clutching the pillow you kept every night and the flower you sent in your distress. Her sweet idiot of a bumblebee. Why did you have to run off? Sure she was stressed, but with her prized florist and sweet little bumblebee she could've conquered the universe. Someday you'll be in her arms and garden again - laughing the night and dawn away.

Someday

#Added queeny because I remembered you asking for one #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere harem #yandere teratophilia #tw yandere #yandere writing #female yandere #yandere

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

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🗡Aemond Targaryen masterlist 🗡

All of the following stories contain the pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader // Stories marked with * contain smut. MINORS DNI // fandom: House of the Dragon

ONE SHOTS

🗡 This Dance • (fem!reader / words: 1k)

🗡 Shepherd of Fire • (fem!reader / words: 3.5) *

🗡 Nothing Else Matters • (fem!reader / words: 2k) *

🗡 Protector • (Swordswoman!Reader / words: 2k)

🗡 Let Them Hear • (fem!reader / words: 1.3k) *

🗡 Patch • (modern!aemond x reader / words: 1k)

🗡 I'm About To Make You Feel • (modern!Aemond x reader / words: 1.4k) *

🗡 For Your Love • (modern!Aemond x reader / words: 2.8 k) *

🗡 Be Your Slave, Be Your Master • (modern!Aemond x reader / words:3k) *

🗡 Side By Side • (modern!Aemond x reader / words: 2.7k) *

SEAMSTRESS!READER SERIES (see the separate masterlist for this series here)

🗡 With him, at all times • (seamstress!Reader / words: 2.5k) part I

🗡 Lovers • (seamstress!/reader / words: 2.5k) * part II

🗡 Interlude • (words: 1k)

MULTI-CHAPTERS

🗡 Whispers Unsaid I • Whispers Unsaid II * (fem!reader / words in total: 5k)

🗡The Loneliest I • The Loneliest II * (fem!reader/ 1920’s au ) WIP

HEADCANONS/IMAGINES/DRABBLES/FICLETS

🗡"Never Did Believe"

🗡"Let Me Taste Your Silhouette" • Modern!Aemond Targaryen *nsfw

🗡"Made A Fire"

🗡"Working Class" * nsfw

🗡"You Drive Me Crazy" • Modern!Aemond *nsfw

🗡"Words Are Very Uneccessary" *nsfw

🗡 Giving his partner pleasure * (gn!reader / mentions of oral sex & multiple orgasms)

🗡 Dog dad!Aemond (modern Aemond)

🗡 Rainy day with modern!Aemond

🗡 Modern!Aemond general headcanons

🗡Modern!Aemond's favorite books

🗡Modern!Aemond's comfort movies and music

🗡 Modern!Aemond NSFW headcanons *

🗡 sleepy sex with Modern!Aemond during a thunderstorm *

🗡 Modern!Aemond freaking out over a text from the dog groomers

🗡 Pamper night with modern!Aemond

🗡 Lusting over modern!Aemond as he works out *

🗡 Aemond's favorite ways of touching himself *

🗡Patch comforting modern!Aemond through his nerve pain

🗡 girl dad!Aemond + Amaelia Targaryen (modern au)

🗡 Amaelia witnessing Aemond's nerve pain (modern au)

🗡Random modern!Aemond headcanons

🗡 dad!Aemond + his daughter dating (modern au)

🗡 Modern!Aemond x pregnant!reader *

AEMOND'S CHILDREN

🗡 Aemond's children: Elaena, Aeron and Vaella + their personalities

🗡 Aemond's children: tantrums

🗡Aemond's children with their mother

🗡 Aemond's children: courting headcanons. Part I / Part II

🗡 The Sapphire Princess (drable)

🗡 The Warrior Princess (drabble)

🗡Grandsire!Aemond + the grandkid's names & backstories

TAGS FOR RAMBLES/THOUGHTS/AND BLURBS

🗡 #Aemond's children

🗡 #Modern!Aemond's family + Aemond and Patch

🗡#modern!Aemond rambles

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #reader insert fanfiction #ewan mitchell #my writing

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axolotlsupremacyowo · 3 months

Note

For drable promts

These prompts for KavleirX Apollo

> " the rockstar and the the law attorney , now that,s a novel a loved to read."

" I have made my best music when you were a part of my life."

" Being a muse requires just much talent being as being musicians"

Hi hi!! Thanks so much for the freaking asks! I did all of them :3. They were just so good!! I had so much fu writing them! I just...I love Klapollo! So I'm really glad I get to write them more :3

They all kinda just ended up as Klavier being smitten with Apollo. Hope that's okay XD. He do be pining!!

Now...on to the prompts!

"The rockstar and the the law attorney, now that's a novel I'd loved to read." 295 words

“A rockstar and a defense attorney? That is totally a novel that I’d love to read.” Ema had said it sarcastically, Klavier knew. He knew that writing a novel was ridiculous, writing a novel, especially basing it off of his experiences with Apollo. But he just couldn’t help it, something about Apollo inspired him. Something about him that made Klavier want to be the best he could be at everything he tried. His management team were the first people that mentioned him writing a book, actually. Klavier ignored them at first, he didn’t want to make a piece of art that was just a cash grab, no matter how much his team tried to convince him otherwise. Though, at some point, Klavier had become…inspired. Fiction writing was very much different from songwriting, but Klavier found that he liked it. He liked the creative process in general, and though there was difficulty translating his songwriting skills into fiction writing, plus his perfectionist tendencies making it harder, he still quite liked it. One day, Apollo and Klavier were out at a café. Apollo was talking about novels, and how interesting they were, and that he really should have read more. Klavier wasn’t sure when, but at some point, the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I’m writing a novel, actually.” Klavier had blurted out. Apollo seemed surprised at first, then that surprise turned into intrigue. “Oh, really? That’s cool! What’s it about?” “A rockstar and a defense attorney solving the murder of the rockstar’s band’s guitarist.” Klavier replied. “Oh! A rockstar and a defense attorney? I’d love to read about that, actually. That must be a pretty interesting duo.” Apollo said. “Ja. They are, Herr Forehead.” Klavier smiled. “They are.”

"I have made my best music when you were a part of my life." 300 words

Klavier really missed songwriting. He missed the creative process of it all, writing away his thoughts as they poured out from his mind, looking at his work days later with a fresh new perspective and then ironing out the kinks that he found. And lately, he had found some inspiration It started with Apollo saying something that sounded like it’d be a good song lyric, to which Klavier immediately jotted down on his phone to remember to integrate it into one of his songs. The next thing he knew, hours later after the investigation had ended, Klavier was writing away at his notebook. He stared at the lyrics that he had just written, frowning in thought. What to write next… At the sound of a notification on Klavier’s phone, he picked it up. Opening his phone, he smiled at the photo of him and Apollo on his lock screen. Apollo was deep in thought, his index finger pressed at the bridge of his nose. Klavier liked that little habit of his, he thought it was one of the most adorable things he had ever seen in his life. He clicked on the notification, an unamused annoyed text from Ema telling him about some investigation details. Klavier quickly responded, before turning back to his notebook. At the possibilities that it held, at the blank canvas that would be his artform. He would probably make a few mistakes, even with years of experience he still made mistakes. Not only that, but this was a solo song, and he wasn’t used to writing solo songs. Though, that didn’t matter. Klavier knew that with his inspiration, he’d make it just fine. It may have been new and a little terrifying, but in Klavier’s opinion, it was the best music that he had ever made.

"Being a muse requires just as much talent being musicians" 380 words

Apollo did not think he was remarkable. Klavier wasn’t sure what the hell made Apollo come to that conclusion, he really wasn’t. Apollo was one of the most inspiring people in Klavier’s life, his search for the truth one of the most remarkable things about him. He had a talent, able to spot lies with just a person’s body language. He was perceptive, noticing the tiniest of details instantly, before the detectives even registered that they were there. He was detail oriented, putting together all the information of their cases in an interesting and coherent way. So many things that Klavier could go on and on about, so many things he admired about the man. And yet, he seemed to disagree. Which was frankly, ridiculous. “God, I wish I actually knew how to do stuff…” Apollo was lamenting to Klavier. “What do you mean by that, Herr Forehead?” “Well, I sorta uh…don’t have any hobbies? Like sure, I do sports and outdoor stuff, but that’s not as cool as all of your guys’ hobbies.” Apollo sighed. “Mr. Wright can do piano and poker, even if he’s terrible at piano. Ema’s got her whole science thing, Trucy does magic tricks, and you’re a rockstar! Compared to you guys, I don’t have a lot going on.” “Even if you don’t have “anything going on”, you’re still quite talented Herr Forehead.” Klavier said. Apollo didn’t look convinced. “Am I, though? I mean, I’m a defense attorney sure, and I have my tell spotting thing. But other than that, I’m not that talented.” “Well, being a muse requires just as much talent as being an artist.” “I guess…” Apollo trailed off, then realizing something. “Wait, I’m someone’s muse?” Shoot, Klavier let that slip. Apollo took Klavier’s lack of an answer as an answer. “Wait, Prosecutor Gavin, whose muse am I?!” “I have no idea.” And of course, Apollo sensed the lie. “No flipping way you don’t. You know, don’t lie to me.” “…Ja, I know.” “Tell me then.” “Nein.” Apollo frowned. “Why not?” “I want to keep it a surprise.” Klavier teased with a wink. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Apollo glared at Klavier. “I’m gonna find out, Prosecutor Gavin. Watch me.” Klavier slowly grinned. “I know you will, Herr Forehead.”

#ask game #fanfic ask game #ace attorney fanfiction #ace attorney fanfic #klapollo #klapollo brainrot #klavier gavin #apollo justice #klavier x apollo #apollo x klavier #oblivious apollo justice

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fr0st-km · 2 years

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ROSE WITH THORNS

( JADE, JAMIL, AND IDIA W/A YOR BRIAR! S/O )

GN! S/O . NO warnings(?) . HEADCANONS/DRABLE

NOTE : guess who finally went out of their grave? Anyways, have these headcanons of my favorite boys as an apology for disappearing 😢

JADE :

- He thinks that you are an interesting individual, an attractive one, to be exact.

- You can be as quiet as a mouse and as shy as a rabbit, perhaps you have the side of an enthusiastic one too <3

- He noticed that you have a thing for sharp items. For ex: He noticed you staring at a knife with awe in the Mostro Lounge’s kitchen. Is this normal or…?

- Jade also realized that you don’t really have the specialty in cooking. He knew immediately after her tried your…curry…Since he didn’t want to make you feel bad and all, he continued eating with a suffering smile on his face.

- He ended up having a stomachache in the end so you had to carry him all the way to the infirmary. You went really fast and Jade was so damn confused on how quick a human being could be 😭 you’re as quick as he is when he’s in his eel form underwater.

- When he asks how your agility is so high, you keep on making excuses too like “Oh— uh…I joined a track club back in middle school!”

- Yeah he knows you’re lying and is hiding something…Perhaps use his unique magic to confirm it…

JAMIL :

- My guy new something was off about you ever since you two had met.

- Especially when you insisted to help him on cooking 😰 when he instructed you to cut the tomatoes, you did cut the tomatoes perfectly but along with the CUTTING BOARD????

- He deadpanned at you in shock while you went into apology overload. How can you even…

- Just like Jade, he noticed you have a thing for sharp items and is very much concerned.

- But he does know how good you are at cleaning. When he visited the Ramshackle dorm, it was spotless! He’s impressed, really. But the dorm still needs a lot of makeovers…

- Then he learns about your special abilities. You have very quick reflexes and superhuman strength. Even though you always wear heels, you can run with ease and with just a single hit, you can send a man or two flying to a wall.

- You could seriously break someone’s ribs without even trying and having the intentions to do so (haha…)

IDIA :

- In general of Idia headcanons, he never expected to date someone like you. YOU’RE LITERALLY A BEAUTY HELLO????

- He finds you to be rather interesting! Especially with your superhuman strength.

- One day, he asked you to get the manga book he ordered online since he was too scared to interact with people. However, you dragged him out of his bed and made him follow you, Idia yelled for Ortho’s help but his younger brother just shrugged and agreed with the fact that he should go outside more. Great betrayal Ortho 😢

- During the walk to the gates, apparently a magic wheel was rushing towards you both out of nowhere. Covering his head with his hand, Idia thought that he was about to die when all of the sudden he heard something crash onto a tree. The magic wheel crashed into the tree while the student riding it was on the floor unharmed. The fiery-haired male realized that his lover was the one who sent the magic wheel flying towards the tree, such superhuman strength!!

- Next thing you knew was your boyfriend on the floor unconscious. 😰

- Like Jamil and Jade, he also realized that you…Have a thing for sharp items…

- I’ll be damn honest with the fact that Idia fears you so much that every time you visit him he’d have a pale face and stutter more than he used to. You thought that he was just embarrassed but he’s actually so scared 😭

- He really does find you intimidating 😢 But a reminder that he has a thing for attractive and intimidating ppl 👁

Note: I’ll be answering those 50+ asks later, too lazy to do it now 😢

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shimishtar · 8 months

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Ramblings ahead!

drable doodles, mostly zhejian aka nicknamed john wings bc of their silly ahh angel headband!!! yipee! Started book 3 so i made adjustment to their appearance by giving them the burn they got from fighting wargoth (which i suffered from TT bc I didn't know u can change draco's element). They're still the same goofy ahh hero, just with remembrance from the fights they experienced.

I am very normal about Galanoth i promise (they adore him in a very idol way)

#dragonfable #drakath slugwrath #galanoth #hero oc #very indulgent btw!!! AAA #silly zhejia-nanigans!

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aldbooks · 6 months

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Hellooooo. how are you? I am very happy because you are completing the Elain and Lucien series.Is it too much to ask you for a drable? something sad like I know you like it 🤣🤣🤣 or something sweet 🍡 I'll settle for anything 😋

Hello again!

I'm doing pretty well. I'm about to take the next few days off of work for a much needed beach vacay 😎 How about you?

You're in luck my friend. I was actually just working on a cute little drabble for them. I sprinkled in a couple of my favorite movie/book quotes. Let me know if you catch them.

---

Lucien’s surprise was plain on his handsome face as Elain swung open the door, greeting him with a smile. She could feel his astonishment rippling through the bond and felt a pang of guilt that she had been so unwelcoming in the past that a simple smile shocked him so.

“Good evening.”

“Evening,” he replied automatically, bowing his head as though the motion were a reflex.

He was a High Lord’s son, he had told her once. The fae equivalent of a prince, practically, and she could imagine that good manners had been drilled into him since birth and were deeply ingrained.

“Rhys and Feyre are in a meeting at the moment, they should be done soon, the others have not arrived yet.”

Lucien nodded vaguely as he obediently followed her to the living room, his brows raising in surprise as she sat across from him. Undoubtedly he had expected her to abandon him to hide away in the kitchen as she usually did. Another wave of guilt washed over her. She was determined to do better.

Something had changed within her after watching Nesta narrowly escape the Blood Rite and Feyre cheat death again while giving birth to Nyx. She had realized that even with their new, prolonged lifespans, nothing was guaranteed. It had forced her to take a closer look at her life and she had decided it was time for some changes.

Starting with the male sitting across from her.

“How was your trip?

Lucien straightened, apparently swallowing his shock that she was actually speaking to him and replied, with a droll air. “Thankfully, uneventful.”

“You do not care for a bit of adventure?” She asked, genuinely curious.

He shrugged, relaxing back into his seat and crossing one leg over his knees in a casual pose. “Oh, I suppose I like adventure as much as the next fae… if the next fae likes adventure.” He smiled at her slight chuckle. “But, in my recent experience, more often than not, that adventure turns out to be rather dangerous. A bit of the mundane now and then does the body good. Especially at my age.”

“You are the youngest one here aside from my sisters and I,” she protested.

“And I’m sure the others would agree. Though they do seem to be a bit more fond of such- excitements.”

“You don’t enjoy battling your way across the continent?” She teased, thinking of the scrapes her sisters and their friends always seemed to find themselves in.

Lucien scoffed softly, shaking his head. “I prefer words to swords most days. There is a certain merit to diplomacy. Why have enemies when you can have friends?”

How diplomatic, she thought.

There was a beat of silence and he ventured, “And what of you? Do you wish for a bit of adventure?”

Elain cocked her head, considering. She loved her sisters but lately their efforts to keep her safe and protected had begun to feel… smothering. She knew they meant well, but they seemed intent on keeping her inside a glass bubble, safe from the outside world and entirely incapable of truly living. She was beginning to grow tired of feeling like a spectator to her own life.

But was adventure what she wanted? Or just freedom?

“Not the sort my sisters seem prone to…” She said slowly. “But- I have seen so little of the world…”

Lucien watched her intently, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Do you intend to travel then?”

Elain’s lips curled into a smile as she saw the makings of a plan begin to form in her mind. An opportunity she would be.a fool to pass up… if only she were brave enough.

“Perhaps… After all, if adventure will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek it abroad.”

Lucien’s answering smile was filled with just enough mischievousness to make her heart begin hammering with excitement.

#ask box #elucien #elain x lucien #elain and lucien #lucien x elain #lucien and elain

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nelapanela94 · 2 years

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Hi lovely sweetiepies!!!

I kinda felt like writing a drable after this fic. It wasn't supposed to be over 1k words but ooops.

t.w.: Set on Modern AU, Fluff, two souls bound to meet again

w.c: ~4k

The rain tapered off. The ominous buzzing of the busy hours, and the vehement drumbeat against the roof had ceased, giving way to the entrapping silence. A well-deserved respite.

Residual drops chase down the windows, forming a map of rivers and islands, shimmering in the flashing headlights of passing cars.

It's been a couple of hours since the sun had drawn the curtains of his stage, ceding the spotlight to the moon, who steals the melancholic glances of the city fish that swim through life in automatic. The moon, who wrench out sighs of love. Including the unrequited ones. Chiefly the unrequited.

It’s been a hectic day, and Levi can’t wait to get home and bask in the coziness of his sheets. Lose himself for a while in the intricate waves of Virginia Woolf under the golden glow of his nightstand lamp and the anesthetic swirling steam of black tea. But a pang on his chest warns him that tonight might have a different ending.

That pricking sensation haunts him since this morning when he found a chipped mug in the cupboard.

Levi casts a half-smile to the waving customer as they ebb through the door.

He throws his head forward and runs his fingers through his hair. The weariness of the day sags into a sigh. And when he lifts his head, the corners of his lips quirk up into a simpering smile. From the till, he leers at you. Deeply engrossed in the story of Addie Larue you haven’t noticed you’re the only person left in Herby Twist.

Him and you.

Your elbow rests on the table, your cheek propped and strained on the back of your hand that threatens to leave a red dent on your downy skin.

Another page flips.

With his eyes hooked on you, he punches several buttons on the screen. The cash register beeps, and the drawer pops out. You don’t flinch a bit. He still has to do the cash count, meaning he has to take his eyes off you. What an ordeal. He gathers the cash, counts it twice, as well as the vouchers, organizes the receipts and does a quick inventory check.

He comes back from his office and you’re still there, the empty cup perched on your table, wearing the sleeve with his name and number. His teeth clamp into his lips, and he feels his face sizzling with a heat rush. Please, don't leave it behind.

Hope tickles in him. At least, you haven’t thrown it away.

And he squints, wondering if you are ignoring him, or if you’re really that oblivious. Nobody can be so dense.

The neon lights that spell ‘OPEN’ flit and shut with a slight buzz. He traipses to the door, and his fingertips stamp on the glass. The water flowing down the gutter looks like a small, but ferocious river. A car rumbles by, sending sheets of filthy rainwater splashing over the curb, and once again the street falls to a bleak quietness. On the front sidewalk, a streetlamp flickers several times until it goes off for good.

Great, now he has to report it.

His warm breath speckles the glass, painting a warp-edge circle of fog. His eyes focus on the canvas, blearing what's beyond the door, and he draws a smiley face before wiping it off with a sweeping motion of his hand.

He lets out a chuckle and turns around, cocking his head, his shoulder pressing on the glass.

“Oi! You plan to spend the night?”

His voice cuts through your fictional journey. You blink twice, stumped, narrowing your eyes through the blur after having invested the last three hours nuzzled in your book. You rub the heels of your hands on your eye sockets before looking around, bamboozled.

Your eyes flick to your watch. 9:36.

Shit.

You slip the tassel bookmark on the page, thud the book close and put it in your bag. Scrambling up, your bracelets clank. Your fingers get trapped in the clumps of your hair; thus, you resolve to smooth it down with the palm of your hand. A middling attempt to a decent look. You catch your reflection on the glass, and your face contorts in aversion. A blush grazes your cheeks; a mute scream pierces through you.

Shit times two.

Your hair is flattened to the sides like a thatched roof, your taupe sweater heavy with the shreds of rain, smears of mascara smirched under your eyes, a red mark pounding on your right cheek.

“So?”

Your face snaps toward him, stumbling with his teasing smile. He’s leaning against the glass, arms crossed over his chest, his muscles rippling and straining under his shirt. Steams seeps out of your cheeks, and your heart kicks into a sprint.

The Fates love playing with you.

He’s handsome. Stunningly handsome, and you can’t help but act like a silly girl. A crappy looking silly girl. Shit times three. You can’t think straight with him looming so close. You feel this unequivocal pull toward him, impending you from looking away. Some kind of astrological force coaxes you to keep staring. It outstrips you and your ballsy eyes dawdle over his silhouette, drinking every edge of him as you nibble on your bottom lip. His thin eyebrows, the line of his lashes contrasting against his pallor like fans. The bridge of his nose, his rosy lips, the sharp line of his jaw, his Adam’s apple.

And then, you notice a gleam in his eyes, close and distant at the same time. Your mind wanders, trying to recognize him from somewhere. A feeling, similar to when your worlds crashed while ordering your tea engulfs you. Something you both keep to yourselves. Neither could mention it. You would not even know how to put words to that strange sensation. It just hangs there, floating in the air without unraveling.

You don’t move for a while. Your legs stutter, but you can’t bring them to take a step forward. Perhaps surprise. Perhaps it is a sign of destiny you like to believe in.

A boy and a girl. And three strikes of the bell.

Serendipity? No.

This is not an accident, nor a beautiful coincidence.

A foreseen rendezvous.

You get stuck in, enjoying the moment and the sensations it elicits in you. The tingling in your belly, the sweaty hands you rub over your jeans. Your heart kissed by bliss, fluttering in your chest.

You lose yourself in his eyes, between gray and blue, a unique color, and in his funny expression because he knows you are shamelessly staring, because he has that je ne sais quoi that has caught your attention.

His tongue skims over his lower lip.

And you react when you realize his eyes have been drilling you all this time. Too late. Panic and shame run through your insides until they explode on your cheeks. You feel silly under his amused smile, lighting up the hours left to the end of the day.

A clash of gazes that cracks a spark in the air while the world continues spinning.

Raising a brow and clearing his throat, he bores into you, shaking up your world. He lifts his chin. His smirk indelible. “If you want to strip me naked at once and for all, I won't fight you,” he says unabashedly, tossing his hands in the air.

Your jaw cracks open by a snort of disbelief. Your ears flared up, and your eyes popped out. Your brain cells short-circuit. It sounds tempting... but you jostle off those sinful thoughts. The red siren flashes and bangs in your head, little yous freaking out, collecting water in buckets to put out the fire.

Who the hell is pulling at the strings of fate?

Gazing down, you rock back and forth on your heels, your thumbs hooked on the pockets of your jeans. A handful of seconds later, your eyes thread with his again, and you open your mouth to speak, cajoling words out with the jot of sanity he left in you. “I...I’m sorry.” You stammer and inwardly slap yourself. “I lost track of time.”

“If you don’t tell I’d never notice.” He quips, peeling off from the glass

Your face is scorching red. It hitches under the collar of your sweater, but you don’t want to scratch the hives in front of him. A swarm of butterflies, most likely bees, whirs in your belly, stinging everywhere. Hopefully, he doesn’t believe in first impressions.

“I won't take up any more of your time.” You say, taking off the sleeve of the cup and slip it into your pocket. His smirk broadens. He shakes his head, and a faint snort escapes from him. If it were up to him, he would give you his time for nothing. Maybe a smile or two. That sounds a fair deal.

You can feel the heaviness of his gaze riveted on your back as you shuffle to the landfill bin. You go back to your table and sling the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder, clutching it tight to your chest as if it was some kind of shield.

“Did you like it?” He muses.

Your trembling legs drag you to the door, defying the gravity of his planet; one wrong step and you'd end up with your nose pinned to his neck. “I think you have the oddest taste.” The bell chimes over your head, and he steps aside, holding the door open for you. You set a foot outside the threshold and turn around. “Sugar free, cream free? You’re a psychopath.”

“Good tea isn’t to be ruined.”

“It’s just a little enhancement.”

He squints. “Don’t tell me you’re a coffee person.”

“Double chocolate latte Macchiato.” You weave your fingers and bring your entwined hands to under your chin, twitching your lips in an apologetic smile.

Levi ducks his head and splays a hand on his chest, faking a pout. “You were doing so good. Too good. I knew there must have been something.”

A string of giggles burbles out from your throat, and, with his eyes vacant, Levi just gapes, rapt with that pretty sound. Like a sunrise or a sunset.

A dippy smile strains his lips.

Your guffaw falters, and you shoot him a query glance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

And you continued gawking at each other, without knowing exactly what to say because the situation is kind of… weird.

From the outside, just a boy and a girl flirting. A boy and a girl flustered to the tip of the ears. She, toying with a lock of hair; he, leaning forward with an idiotic grin plastered on his face. Passersby unaware of the banging hearts, the racing pulses and the weakened legs, and the tension about to explode threatening to obliterate it all.

A sheepish smile curves on your mouth. “Well, I... I gotta go.” You toss a thumb over your shoulder.

He meekly nods and sucks on his bottom lip, his eyes scooting from you to the floor, then back to you. The question you both urge to ask knots in your throats.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Levi.” You pause, still holding his enthralling gaze. “You have a pretty name. Levi, Levi, Levi.” You simper when your voice hits the last syllable. His eyes go round at his name dripping from your lips, stirring him. Whacked by a ten-ton truck. His heart thrums like the snare drums of a marching band. His name in your mouth feels like a sweet warm cup of black tea.

It can’t be.

No way.

You tilt your head and jest, “Cat got your tongue?”

He looks unsettled, so out of character. Blushing, like a shy teenage boy asking his crush out. Where did all his confidence go? It all faltered in a finger snap. But he only stares blankly past over your shoulder, lost in thoughts, and you can’t muffle your laughter anymore. That sound, shit, that mellifluous sound, makes his heart flutter. Why does it sound so familiar?

He doesn’t want to get used to it and lose it at once.

He fumbles in his pocket and plucks a card trapped between his fingers, and flicks it to you. “Here.”

You pry it and mumble, “loyalty...card?” You gaze back at him.

“The other side,” he groans.

Nine empty slots below the ‘buy 9 cups and get 1 free!’

And it strikes you. His way to say he wants to see you again.

A faint brush of amusement blooms at the end of your lips. You rummage in your bag for a pen and click it open, “I guess I have eight left.” You leer and fill up the first doodled cup.

“Next time with sugar.”

He flips his hair and sighs. “For you I’ll make an exception.”

“Great!”

You beam at each other for a long moment. Your eyes sparkling like diamonds in his. Little mice that had fallen into his cheese trap. And he smiles at you.

You wave goodbye again, awkwardly, and hit the curb. His gaze attaches to you out the window, praying for you to text and come back. It’s all he can do now. To covet. You disappear around the corner, and officially, the only thing that remains is the faint memory of the strawberries drizzling from your hair. He locks the door and turns around, leaning and sliding down against the glass. He brings his knees to his chest, running his palms down his face. A grunt of frustration rumbles out from him. Closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath, he weaves through the jumble of thoughts, focusing on retracing your laugh. How can something sound so intimate and so foreign at the same time?

He blows out a raspy sigh, surrendering to the tickles in his belly. He can’t squish them away. Who vested you with the right to walk in his life like a hurricane and knock him down on his ass?

Pathetic.

He’s not a bragger, yet he knows he’s got the looks. He’s not oblivious to the cheeky glances girls lob at him and the giddy titters. But you, you’re different.

He hates he can’t put the pieces together.

No, Levi, love at first sight it’s an invention of romance books and movies.

A heated rap behind him yanks him out of his orbit. He bustles on his feet and smooths down his hair. Whoever is up there watching it all, listened to his pleas. Though, he never expected to see you back too soon.

He unlatches the door and lets you in, catching the uneasiness creeping on your face. “Are you ok?” Worrisome coats his voice, but relief immediately swaddles him when you nod.

“I didn’t mean to bother you again.” You jabber. “It’s just,” Scratching your head, you crinkle your nose. “Do you know which line goes to Covent woods?”

He folds his arms over his chest, pensative, glancing vainly at the floor, one of his cheeks blowing out. Pursing his lips, he shakes his head, and finds your eyes again. “Nope.”

“Can you google it on your phone? My batterie died.”

“I have a better idea.” You hear a click behind you.

“Shit, I knew you were a psychopath. Leave my body where it can be found.”

“I won’t get rid of you.” His fingers laced with yours, and he tows you to the counter, your free arm floundering in the air for balance. A shiver surges up from your hand all the way to your heart, a slight tingle that lingers even after he lets go.

He feels full again. “Give me five.” He slides behind the counter and pads to the secretive door. The lights go out except for the yellow one above the till, giving the place a gloomy atmosphere. You heap on the counter, shifting your weight to the other side. Your legs dangle over the edge, your bag rests by your side. As you toy with a lock of hair, your eyes travel around behind the bar where the light skims over.

Blenders, cups, glasses, and canisters perfectly arranged. The racks pristine. The pastry showcases empty.

The door squeaks open and you flicker toward him. He comes out wearing a brown leather jacket.

His phone lights up in his pocket. He picks it up and lift a finger to you before swiveling around.

“Yeah. Uh-huh. No, I’m not home yet... Ok, I’ll text you.” He groans, resting a hand on the concrete surface. “ I’m still at the shop.” His voice begins to slope into a whisper. “Love you too.” Another groan. “Not, now, mom. I’m with somebody.” And another. “No, not like that and no, I’m not embarrassed of you.”

A chortle breaks out from you.

He flips around, shooting daggers through his eyes. He lets out a smooch, begrudgingly, hangs up and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“You don’t look like a mama’s boy.” Your head falls back a bit, exposing your neck, soft skin unguarded, vibrating with a spool of belly laugh.

Without meaning to, subdued by something stronger than him, he finds himself reeling forward, lured by your sweet scent. Moved by instinct, his hands set on your knees, parting your legs, seeking harbor between your thighs.

He lowers your defenses; you can’t fight against him.

You freeze. Heat dashing in your veins stoking the fireball in your core. Your pupils expand, your irises tremble. You can feel his breathing fondling and warming your neck. “Please, tell me you feel it too.” He rasps. His voice, scrappy velvet, ripples straight to your center.

“What do... what do you mean?” You feel the hives pricking again.

His hands anchor on the rim of the countertop on either side of you. “Tell me I'm not the only one who feels this strange... connection, as if I've known you for years.”

“Levi.” Your muscles tense, and your breathing shallows, and goosebumps break through your skin. Fire ripples in your veins. He pulls apart a bit, staring at you through heavy-lidded eyes. You don’t need words, your glances speak louder, tempting fate.

Closing your eyes, you jerk forward, your mouth chasing his, but he leans back and lifts his fingers, pressing them across your lips. You look at him, dazzled, as he touches your mouth. Your lashes flutter, cheeks charring at his languid strokes tracing along your cupid’s bow.

Your name falls from his mouth in a soft whisper, and he reels to you, his breath seeping through the gaps of his fingers. But he doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he settles his lips over the barrier of his fingers erected between your eager mouths, and inhales your breath coated in black tea.

The warmth of his palms fuse with your cheeks as his forehead nestles on yours.

“I feel it too,” you purr, tugging up the corners of his lips. “In your eyes.”

“For me it’s your laughter. In your voice.” He reaches out and brings your wrist to his lips, pressing a fleeting kiss over your pulse, the thrumming synchronized with his heart’s.

“I’ll take you home.” He spews, and you nod.

He steps aside and crouches. Rattles and screeches stir in the air as his hands meander in the shelves, moving things around. Then he rises, propping a sturdy, semi round, black object on your lap. Your brows shoot up.

Before you have time to react, he flings your bag on his shoulder and threads his hand with yours. “Let’s go.” He blurts, cheeks strained and dimpled in a smile. You fall on your feet, cradling the helmet in your arm. The wooden flap unhinges, and darkness sets behind you.

He only lets go of you to latch the door and unroll the shutters. Hand in hand you strut to the parking bay, and astonishment creeps in your glinting gaze, a gasp fleeing from you when you spot the glinting BMW badge on the side of the k1600. “Is that even safe?”

You bump against him when he stops dead in his tracks. Ouch.

Grinning, he peers over his shoulder. “Just hold on tight.”

Not wasting anytime, you take off, kicking the road and veering in and out the lanes. The warp lines of the buildings and the fuzzy flashes of lights blur past through the visor. The motor winds up into the revs. Whining, you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten your arms around his chiseled torso, your chest fusing against his back. Blaring cars’ honks wedge in between the purring of the engine. The lapels of his jacket flap with more fury, the bleak wind sharper on your exposed skin.

Turn to the right, turn to the left. The bike stops, and the hum dwindles. Opening your eyes, the three-story building clears before you. Levi alights first, his hair in disarray as he removes his helmet. He shakes his head and rakes his fingers through the messy strands before offering you a hand. You don’t stop shaking until you feel firm ground beneath your feet. Air strokes your face again as you settle your helmet on the seat. Then, Levi takes your bag out of the compartment and hands it to you. Everything is safe.

“Line fourteen,” he confesses with a playful beam on his face.

“Uh?”

“From Herby Twist to here you can take line fourteen. Which floor do you live on?” Your jaw drops as he glances up.

“Why do you want to know? To kidnap me while I sleep?” You frown, hands anchored to your hips.

“I appreciate the idea.” He folds his arms over his chest, leaning against his bike, his legs crossed at the ankles.

Damn dimple.

“I won’t tell.” You scoff and squint, puffing out a cheek.

Giggles bubble out from him, and a winsome smile lights up your face.

“Thanks for the ride.” You bite your lip, averting the eyes, tingles seizing your face and belly. Awkwardness hovers over you. You wave goodbye and spin around.

“that's not a good way to say good-bye.” His voice strikes you from behind. You stop and pivot on your heels, and he’s patting a finger on his cheek.

“I’m not kissing you.”

“Technically it's not a kiss. Just a peck on the cheek.”

Your hands curl into fists, the still creaking under your fingers. You close your eyes, your shoulders sag, and a long sigh slips out of your lips.

“Just a peck.” You flick a finger in the air.

His eyes sparkle like those of a child tearing open their Christmas present.

You pad to him and, staring at the side of his face, you rear up and press a lingering kiss on his cheek. His eyes close, relishing in the warmth and tenderness of your lips, but no, it’s not enough. Even if you slap him for what he's about to do, he'll go to bed happy tonight.

In the snap of a second, and before you can yank your mind from wonderland, his soft hands are skimming over your cheeks, and elation in form of a volcano erupts in your chest when you feel rose petals on your lips.

A surging tide of lava that leaves you limp.

Your heart skips a beat, warmth fizzing all over you, bristling the tiny hairs behind your neck. Your chest hums with pure joy. A soft brush of lips like the flutter of a butterfly. The tension falters from your hands as they seek shelter over his chest, feeling his heart thrashing, tallying with the frenzy of yours. His mouth dances gently and slowly against yours, and as the giddiness spins your world and makes you soar, you find yourself kissing him back. Your hands slip behind his neck, lacing there, and his travel down, anchoring to your hips.

Your chest melts with his, and your drumming hearts can’t be any closer.

He takes the lead and rises the cadence of the kiss, and the ground shakes and you have no other choice but to cling onto him as a mooring boat not to drift aimlessly at the mercy of restless tides. His daring tongue sweeps over your quivering lips and they instinctively part for him, evoking wild sparks along your nerves and sensations you never thought you were capable of feeling.

Discovering the nooks and crannies of your mouth, he fights for conquest, but you surrender willingly, and he plants his flag in your domains.

And before you die of a dearth of oxygen, you break the kiss to catch your breaths. His cheeks are graze with a pinkish tone, air sweeping over his dewy lips in staggered pants. He’s looking at you, breathing in your sweetness, your ambrosia lingering in his mouth.

He curls a finger under your chin and tips your face up. And smiles. You can feel his lips curving against yours.

Black overtakes the grayish blue of his eyes.

He has a dazzling way of staring.

And that's what beauty is. It's not a symmetrical face, or silky hair, or a small nose, or perfect proportions, or a sculpted body. It helps? yes. But beauty is in the gestures, hidden in the sparkle of glances and mischievous smiles.

Little things that make us great.

“Don’t forget to text your mom once you get home.” You muse and break apart from him, rushing to the building entrance. You hit the buttons and the door beeps unlock, and you fade behind the glass.

He waits and waits.

And a smirk flicks on his lips when a window on the third floor lights up.

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