new chapter- it's not all roses
i'm in a writing mood this week so theres another new chapter of it's not all roses. you can find it here:
i'm in a writing mood this week so theres another new chapter of it's not all roses. you can find it here:
pairing: ateez x fem!reader, ? x fem!reader genre: sea pirates!au, royalty!au, fantasy, romance, drama, action, angst, adult content. word count: 6k rating: mature series warnings: language, substance use, violence, blood, kidnapping, sexism, death, criminal activity, explicit sexual content.
↳ summary: If there’s one thing you remember as a mantra from growing up in a street thief guild, it’s ‘trust no one but your own, don’t get wrapped up with the wrong crowd.’
Unfortunately, these seven pirates and their irate captain have left you with little choice.
↳ mlist | ↳ 02
→ author has chosen not to use chapter-specific warnings for this work.
Over the loud, intoxicated glee of people surrounding you as you sit slouched in the wooden, tavern chair — sounds of glasses clinking together in celebration of nothing in particular just yet — your scope of vision glides across the room at them with smiles on their faces as they engage with one another happily.
Friends, colleagues, and even family are amongst you now.
The upstairs of the slightly worn but still comfortingly inviting bar smells a wild concoction of so many things as you take in everything going on around you: grilled meats, cigar smoke, and even a hint of vanilla carries through the gentle breeze offered by the open windows, and you can't help but allow yourself the moment to take it all in. These are your people, and while they are far from perfect and most certainly have long lists of criminal records to account for it — you're none the better nor any more innocent in your dealings.
You suppose it's what makes evenings like this feel so much like home.
Crossing your legs as you remain seated; adorned in simple black leather pants and a loose, white t-shirt, a man wearing much of the same comes to greet you with a gentle hand placed upon your shoulder from behind. Under normal circumstances such a gesture might put you a bit on edge, but your clan of thieves have the run of things at this establishment, and tonight? An invite-only event for you and yours to go over the plans for tomorrow afternoons heist.
"Not drinking tonight?" He says playfully, as if surprised by the lack of beverage in front of you.
You shake your head with a scoff as you watch him come around and take a seat next to you. "Not tonight, still a little bit put off from the last time. I'm sure you remember."
"Ah yes," he recalls in tone. "Not your best moment, perhaps. Difficult to swipe a pocketbook from someone when you're still sitting on the edge of a nasty hangover."
"Gaddes, give it a rest, we didn't have to revisit it in detail," you sigh with a somewhat humiliated grin, but the man next to you only chuckles in response before changing the subject, anyway.
"We got the job done anyway, and tomorrow should be a bit simpler than that was, anyway," Gaddes remarks with confidence as he sits back to cross his arms over his chest. "Just a simple traveling merchant making his way through the city. You would think word would have made its way around by now that it's ill-advised passing through Egzardia streets with little more than a satchel and a horse."
As he finishes the thought, another tall man takes the furthest end of the room and taps a knife to a mostly empty glass of beer to call attention to himself in preparation to speak. Without another word, you and your comrade turn your full attention to him as the rest of the room quiets similarly in anticipation for what it is that he is about to say.
Egzardia. A beautiful city full of outstandingly elaborate architecture and history. Known for producing some of the brightest and most outstanding minds as well as hosting lavishly impressive festivals world renown — for you, sometimes you find difficulty in thinking of it much beyond anything more than home. Neither a scholar nor technically educated, these walls being known for such falls long to the wayside for you more often than not in favor of the backend alleyways and slums such as where you and your troops sit now.
A place that is widely known for all of these things, that much is true. To you? A place where thievery and criminal activity also thrive. Though danger is low and for that much you are thankful — if not for your profession you would definitely think it best for the people wandering the streets to keep their belongings far closer to their person than they tend to on average.
Then again, you're much better at this than the typical pick-pocket, as well. That much your parents made sure of when entering you into the thieves guild at such a young age.
"Tomorrow at four o'clock we will meet just north of the harbor and set up positions for intercepting the target," the man at the end of the room says, map held high up and in hand as he points to it with the tip of a knife. "No physical force, it should be an easy swipe — just an older gentleman passing through with a ruby big enough that we could all take a few months time off from the grind."
Everyone nods in acceptance of the terms.
He continues on. "My informants can't confirm where it is that it's kept, but our best guess would be in the carriage and under a good amount of baggage. For that reason, we're going to need to hatch a plan to distract him so that a couple of us can have time to rummage through his belongings and locate the prize."
Another man calls out suddenly, as well as quite drunkenly on account of the slurring to his speech. "Wouldn't it just be easier to take him out a bit temporarily so that we have all of the time in the world to lift not only that but whatever else it is that the ol' guy might have of value on him?"
A few other men around the room openly agree with the sentiment as smaller cheers are heard around, but the man at the front calling the shots appears less than pleased by the display as per the frown that paints his otherwise joyful enough features.
"If you want to beat up old men you can do it on your own time, but not when you're out with me, and not when I'm the one calling the shots," he says sternly, thus quieting the room entirely. "You're welcomed to leave the guild and conduct yourself however you see fit, but so long as you're with us, there's a code of ethics that you will be adhering to. Or are you too drunk to remember it?"
The man in question is ever so slightly out of sight of you under normal circumstances, but as a result of the berating you find you can't help the desire to lean forward to catch a glimpse of the way that he recoils into himself as a result of the verbal lashing.
That much is true: Egzardian thieves are known to be some of the best, and while not incapable of handling themselves in combat, hardly ever should there come to be a scenario where anyone is to be put in danger.
Of course, things can and do go wrong, occasionally, but it's a thought to be put well and far out of your mind now in favor for the bright flash of smile the captain of the room resonates upon his getting back to the point at hand.
"Right then, four o'clock. Don't be late."
Exiting the makeshift stage off to the side, Gaddes is quick to turn back to you with a half-grin of his own before nodding towards the man who only moments before had received a verbal lashing that isn't all too uncommon for a group of drunken, rowdy criminals.
"Get a load of that guy, huh? Whats he think we are, a bunch of lowly pirates?"
You snort at the comment. "Some people are just natural born criminals, I suppose. Petty crime isn't enough, just wanna watch the world burn eventually."
"Some of us are just trying to earn a dishonest living, you know?" Gaddes chuckles in response, pushing his chair back and standing to his feet once more. "If I wanted to live the pirate life, I would have. Heard they're always hiring."
"Scum typically is."
With another hand to your shoulder, the man bids you a good evening before stepping out of the line of sight completely. As the room erupts into the loud joy that previously enveloped it, you reach across the table towards another colleagues half empty beer glass — sliding it towards you, taking it in hand, sipping from it and gently sliding it back without him being any the wiser of your doings.
Back at the hole in the wall that you lovingly refer to as and think of as home, as you undress from the stench of smoke and sweat, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. For a moment, you can't help but wonder how so much time has passed since you were but a child — loved and held by not only the people that are your comrades, but your parents, as well.
Once again, you think back to the concept of things going wrong in the line of action.
Petty theft far from being one of the more dangerous lines of business in a large city such as this one, but the thought never once leaves your mind since that day so long ago.
People passing through carrying all sorts of things on them as they do, and some coming far more equipped for altercation than others, unfortunately.
Tying your hair back in preparation for bed, you step into the old, shoddy shower with a rusting, metal head that you've found yourself taping together far more times than you can count by now. The water alternates between hot and cold and anywhere in between as you make haste in washing as much of the evenings remanence off of you as you can manage before the timer runs out and you're no longer offered the salvation of any warm water at all.
Gripping uncertainty settles in your chest as you step out just in time, and making your way across the short expanse of room that you daringly refer to as yours, you can't help but allow it to take grip on your mind a bit more than you might under normal circumstances.
Sure, you know it to be as a result of the mentioned events from earlier in the night, but it doesn't make it any less uncomfortable as you climb between white sheets and lie your head back upon your pillow.
"It'll be fine," you say to no one except yourself as the simple flickering of a candle dances across dingy, tanned walls. "It's always fine. 'Trust yourself, trust your own.'"
One of many mantras bestowed upon you from a very early age: the idea that once you step into this sort of lifestyle, the way in which you interact with not only people, but the world around you, must fundamentally change from the way that you've previously come to know it. Trust no one except yourself and your people, beware of everyone else.
Turning to your side only long enough to extinguish the flame, you slink back to face the wall of your bedroom as sleep already takes its grip upon you with heavy lids and a fuzzy mind. You think of the goal of tomorrow — the jewel in question — and your comrades grinning, cheerful faces as you all celebrate later in the night over a job well done.
Everything will go according to plan, because it always does, and you have trust with the people who have had your back for years to keep you safe and sound through it all.
Drifting off to sleep, the distinct scent of a still glowing wick from your candle wafts across your senses.
This is home, and you couldn't imagine it being any other way.
Making your way through the lively streets of the harbor with brown, woven cloak adorning your shoulders and hood hiked up just enough to hide your face from any passerby who may be inclined to look upon you, you take notice of how particularly busy it is on this day: not unusual for a weekend in the busiest part of the city where trades folk, travelers, and residents all mingle to enjoy the festivities of food and shopping alike, there's a number more ships docked than what would be typical for this time of year. It's nothing suspicious, but rather you wonder if there is something that you and yours have forgotten about that is to be taking place right about now to garner such a wide array of people at the very location in which the heist is meant to go down.
However, just as quickly as the consideration comes to you, you lay eyes on Gaddes — nonchalantly placed in front of a food merchant offering grilled fish kabobs and with no effort to mask his identity whatsoever. It gives you slight pause on account of it being a tad presumptuous to think that no one will be able to trace him back to the scene should the job go south, but it's just so him, as well.
A few steps towards him as he finishes up his dealings with stick in hand, you cock your head to the side as if with intent to scold him, but he laughs before you're able to get so much as a word out.
"Here I thought I would be the only one to get here early and could get away with acting a bit out of code, should have expected you'd be on the scene just as earnestly, I suppose."
"You know I like to get an idea of what we're working with before the job is meant to happen," you insist, making all the more effort to keep your face concealed in spite of his lack of interest in doing as much just yet. "Should I tell the captain that you're getting lazy? Having your ugly mug out for the world to see only half an hour before?"
Of course, you wouldn't think of doing such a thing, but it grants you the response you are looking for regardless as he chuckles between a chunk of white fish.
"You wouldn't think of it," he rightfully says. "Besides, we know the harbor like the back of our hand, not much of a need to do extra mulling about if not to enjoy what it has to offer."
That much reminds you of your previous thought, nodding before bringing it up. "It's busy, busier than usual. Any reason?" Gaddes only shrugs, however.
"Busy city, basically a hub of trading and whatnot. I wouldn't think much of it, probably better for us and our plans the more people are around. Easy for unfamiliars to get distracted by all the hustle and bustle."
Carrying through the crowds and settling closer to where it is that you're meant to be, Gaddes finishes up his snack, tossing the empty stick into a nearby waste bin before pulling his cloak back up and into position to make himself just as unrecognizable as you are. Just across the way and only barely within your line of sight, you meet eyes with another comrade stationed up in a darkened alleyway that remains deliberately hidden away from the unrelenting heat and illumination of a sun that still remains in its setting phase over the coast. Despite the purple and pink hues taking the dusking sky, Egzardia remains as one of the hottest cities even at the waterfront, but as the sea breeze wafts over you, the comfort of cool air comes as a much needed relief and a reminder that nightfall is soon to grace the busy streets in which you wait.
"Ten minutes," he says from just beside you, shoulder pressed in a lean against the white stone of a building still very much busy with patronage inside.
"Where is everyone? Jesse is just along the way but I haven't seen anyone else."
"I'm not familiar with the distraction crew and their whereabouts, we have our job so it's best to just focus on that. I'm sure they have it under control."
Blinking slowly and far from thrilled with the reply, you relent to him regardless with a displeased sigh. "There's so many people, almost too many I'd think for a carriage heist, surely someone will see us digging through this old mans things."
Gaddes huffs a chuckle in response to your reluctance at the planning. "It's going to be fine. Even if they do, most people aren't willing to get involved in such activities and stick their nose in where it doesn't belong. For all they know, we could be armed and dangerous."
"Anyone else could be, as well," you say, obviously disgruntled and with head fast around the corner on the lookout for the exact red-topped carriage that will be your mark. "That's never going to be a concern that I don't have."
"Of course not, you have every reason for that."
There's no need to rehash old business or reopen old wounds, so the mere reference of such a thing is plenty to have you allowing the conversation topic to fall to the wayside in favor of silence between the two of you. Silence, albeit not offered by the roaring crowds as hundreds of people wade through the cobblestone streets of the harbor fair — is something that you quite desperately need from your comrade now.
But just sudden enough to pull you from your thoughts, you catch a glimpse of bright red out of the corner of your eye.
Gaddes is quick to snap his attention to where it is that you're pointing, squinting to hone in on the sight through the seemingly endless line of people, and just as quickly as you with just as attuned a sense for the line of work that you're in, you see his expression change from that of confusion to one of understanding.
"Right on time, too," he chimes as his hands reach up and into the fabric of his hood to pull it further over his face. "Love a guy with a penchant for punctuality."
Not bothering to respond, you keep your vision locked on the elderly man as he slowly pulls his carriage through the crowds with no urgency to his step, at all. For a moment, concern settles into your throat as you find none of your people in the vicinity with the same sort of quickness that perhaps you may have had should the job of distractor be put on you. However, it takes little time before your eyes catch on all too familiar cloaks much like your own as four people cage in the merchant, subsequently stopping him in his tracks — and once you see this, you offer a swift elbow into Gaddes' side to alert him that it's time to move to the next phase of the plan.
Hurriedly making your way along the buildings edges and quite unfortunately bumping into so many people along the way to stationing up behind the buggy, it takes little time to arrive in place, and with your head peeking around the corner and making confirming eye contact with a comrade just ahead who is doing an impeccable job of keeping the traveler engaged, Gaddes and you both glance around just slight enough as to not raise suspicion to the passerby near you before carefully lifting up the reddened top and beginning the hopefully simple task of rifling through numerous piles of baggage for the large, shining ruby that is the entire reason for your being here in the first place.
Finding yourself folded in half and nearly placed inside of the back entirely, you find the offering inside far larger and full of items than you had hoped, thus, you pull yourself from it entirely and tap on the man next to you for him to meet you similarly.
"There's too much shit in there and it's too wide, one of us is going to have to crawl in if we want to have any hope in finding this thing before grandpa gets fed up and wants to go along his way."
Standing to his feet once again, Gaddes dusts himself off with his palms and nods in agreement.
"Okay, I'll dig around in there and then pass it off to you once I get my hands on it, then you head back to headquarters and we'll meet you there once we close up shop."
Nodding in accordance with the plan, the man all but flings himself fully inside the back end of the wagon in a flash, and glancing around for any potential prying eyes, you stand in wait for what feels like years — each second feeling like an hour as you wait for one of two things to be the outcome of this endeavor: either Gaddes finds the mark, or someone that you don't want to find you, does so.
Counting down the minutes in your head, the time passes so painfully slowly in anticipation: four, five, six...
Gaddes' head pops out from under the cloak just before you consider that this mission might be a wash, after all: royal blue, velvet bag gripped at the top and arm extended out towards you as he waits for you to come to your senses and take it from him.
Snatching it from his grip, you don't even bother securing it within your cloak before you turn heel and dash away from your friend and the remaining engagements that the other thieves are meant to partake in. Ideally, the man is left none the wiser upon the scenario finishing, and even once he comes to learn of his missing item, his engagement with the guild at the harbor not intended to be one that raises any more suspicion than just about any other interaction might. The entire group turning and high-tailing it out of there not an option unless in very specific and usually dangerous flips of the script.
Countless faces blurring past you as you make your exit, through bustling crowds of happily engaged people and as the stands of merchant offerings finally begin to thin out, you turn to look back at where it is that you've come to make sure that you don't have someone on your end and following you as you attempt to make your escape.
Thankfully, you do not. You do, however, have much bigger problems than that.
As your head whips back to face in front of you, the hard, wall-like stature of another person all too abruptly meets your body — stumbling backwards and almost to the ground entirely, the impact dizzying in its force and causing far more disorientation than you can afford to manage right now — you make the conscious effort to bring your wits back to you to focus in on what it is, exactly, that has you stopped dead in your tracks.
Dealing with city guards is easy; slow, hardly adept in physical altercation, and more often times than not unable to deal with a situation that lands anywhere in between a perpetrator going quietly with them or using excessive, brute force — part of you hopes for that to be the case as the blur from your vision falls to the wayside and your eyes cast upwards towards the three figures standing before you.
But Egzardia guards are not the case, and the attire adorned by them is telling enough of that.
Long, black cloaks with chains and studs adorning as far as the eye can see, all three forgo the use of simple hoods and instead opt for wide-brimmed, black hats that manage to disguise their identities just as much as the ensemble that you and yours have chosen. There's an extra measure of concealing, though, as you take note of the matching, black, chained masks that obscure their faces from you all the more than what you currently reside in.
It makes you feel naked, exposed — more than that even, it makes you feel starkly endangered.
"Up, up," the one in the middle says. The same firm, tall body that only moments ago you found yourself making contact with, now bending down to grab you by the arm and pull you back up into a standing position before them. Dipping his face down and next to yours, his voice is low and heavy as the next words exit from his mouth. "You have something that belongs to us."
Attempting to pull yourself from his grip with as much strength as you can muster, you hear another one of the men chuckle under his breath and presumably at your lack of ability to pull yourself from him as much as you try. Ice cold takes through your veins at the promise of what — you can't be entirely sure — because dealings like this aren't something you're particularly attuned with, rather, you've heard the stories through the grapevine, and none of them ever ending up particularly well for anyone involved.
Those with Lady Luck on their side make it out to tell the story with heaps of scarring — of flesh and mental, alike.
"Get the bag," one of the men says, you're not sure which one and with masks covering their faces they sound a bit the same to you, anyway. All that you can make out is that it isn't the man who currently holds you hostage, now, and with the other two closing in on you, they in turn take to dragging you elsewhere — out of so many peoples vision, most probably — not that that appears to be a concern of theirs, to begin with.
But out of the line of even more sight does not bode well for you, and your future here with the living.
"Get the bag!" A man repeats again, this time more urgently, and as one of them attempts to rip it from your grasp, you tighten your grip on it just that much more, entirely unwilling to relent to the types of scum that engage in these sorts of behaviors.
If you want the prize, you need to be the one to get it. Too slow? Too bad. It's thieves code, but you suppose by now you've accepted the fact that you're now operating far out of the line of any kind of ethical agreement among men.
Because now you're dealing with pirates.
"She's got a fuckin' grip on her, I'll tell you what," the man says with a chuckle as he continues fighting you for the velvet between your fingers. The tallest of the three — and the one still holding you tightly in place as he drags you along — is far less amused with the games presented, however.
"San, if you don't pry it from her now I'll cut her fucking hand off and we can deal with it that way, up to you."
"You always have to go straight to the bloodshed, don't you?" he responds mid-battle with you, and while a chill of certain demise sends down your spine at the levied promise of losing an appendage to this altercation, as you make eye contact with the man you now know to be called San, there's a distinct smile to his eyes. One that says 'don't listen to that guy.' Some intangible, uncertain, kindness behind him that you can't seem to shake even in spite of the way things are currently going for you now.
So, you use it to your advantage.
Heaving your weight upwards, you land a swift drop kick of your leg down against San's forearm that has him falling backwards and gripping himself with a hiss. One problem down, however, there's still two men to be dealt with and from what you can tell so far, the biggest problem is the one that has you in the least ideal of all positions.
And as anticipated, he grips you just that much harder — pulling your arms back and behind you entirely, so much so that sharp, shooting discomfort takes through your shoulders in full. You bite back the cry you want to emit as a result of it, not showing weakness far more important that allowing yourself the freedom to feel, and instead, you swallow it down to, admittedly, cause far more problems than you really need for yourself right now.
"You were too slow to the mark, why don't you take the loss and sit this one out, Boss?"
You can't see the mans expression, but in your mind you imagine it to be one of utter displeasure — probably a bit of his pride hurt in the remark. It could just be the adrenaline now fully flowing through your body that allows you to act out in ways that are not at all conducive to your making it out of this — but figure if you're going to be killed by a bunch of pirates for a ruby, then you may as well go out in style.
The man pulls your arms back tighter, but only briefly enough to emit more pain through your body before loosening again to speak.
"Brave words for a woman far from the comfort of a favorable outcome," he replies before bringing his head down closer to yours again and dropping his voice to nearly a whisper. "—And if you think I'm bad, wait until the boss really does get his hands on you."
"Let her go!"
The familiar voice rings out suddenly and just up ahead of you — unexpected but exhilarating as the deep, boisterous sound of Gaddes is heard just a few feet up along the way. It is true that within the Egzardia thieves guild, excessive force and the use of weaponry is heavily frowned upon except in incredibly necessary times.
This is one of those times.
With gun drawn and faced towards the four of you, Gaddes stands grand and confident in the face of a situation so far from something that the lot of you had ever considered to be a possibility. However, your comrade is far from shaken, and comes to greet you with a sturdy frown across his features.
He repeats himself, this time in less of a shout, and more of a calm demand. "Let her go."
And you feel almost at ease, almost comforted by his presence in being there. The thought crosses your mind almost immediately, 'I'm safe, I'm going to get out of this.'
And that would almost certainly be the case in normal circumstances dealing with other petty criminals or even simple, harbor guards. Instead, you feel the cold, sharpened offering of a blade to the front column of your throat and in turn, the visual of Gaddes' defeated form take hold of him in real time as you both come to the realization that you are out of your depth entirely in this interaction of criminality.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man holding you says strongly. "How good of a shot are you, anyway? Think you can miss her and hit your target? Think that even if you did manage to my men here wouldn't have the both of you dead in record time after the fact?"
Moments of pause fill the air between you and your comrade before you watch him slowly and with full defeat in his body, lower his weapon to his side and watch on at the scene before him with little more that he find himself capable of doing.
"That's what I thought."
"Guards are coming," another man speaks this time, a voice that you're not sure you've heard before on account of only the man named San and this person holding you hostage now doing all of the talking previously. "We've got to go, either kill her and take it or take her with us and we'll deal with it on the ship."
You can feel the pause in the mans hold of you, contemplating in real time what decision it is that he wants to make, which one it is that suits him and more likely than that — his captain, the most. You close your eyes in wait for the proverbial pin to drop, the swift pull of the blade against your throat...
But it never comes.
"Hang onto that bag now if you know what's good for you."
Instead, you're hurled up and over his shoulder as the men in black turn to run towards the ship that they call theirs. As you're painfully carried along, you maintain eye contact with Gaddes who remains where he stands, and together you share the last few moments of what feels like home with a man that you have spent your entire life growing up with, working along side, and caring for — being cared for by.
You can't cry, no matter how much the tears threaten you with a biting relentlessly pooling at the corners of your eyes, you tuck your bottom lip up between your teeth and force all of those feelings back, because you know that the last thing you can do now as you watch the gravel beneath the mens feet turn to the wood of the dock, and thereafter the wood of their boarding plank — is show weakness.
You've been spared this much, and hands intact, at that. If being kidnapped amongst pirates is your fate, then from this day on it is your journey to make it back here once more and be reunited with not only your land, but your family.
Loud murmurs of strange men ringing through your ears no matter how much you wish to tune them out, you hear the demands to prepare to set sail at once, and finally slowing to a halt, the man who holds you in his grasp finally pulls you down from his shoulder — far from gently hurling you down onto the wooden floor and against a corner of one of the lower decks of the ship.
It's then that he pulls his mask off with about as much grace as his carrying of you: dark, narrow eyes with accompanying full lips and a quite tall nose bridge — rather than his features, your eyes dip down to his neck where a simple, black tie lies around it that previously you thought to be connected to his facial covering, only now exposed for what it is, and you can't help but wonder what purpose it serves in being there, at all.
Nevertheless, the man stands full-length before you as he glares down at you for only a handful of moments before finally bending in half and snatching the bag that by now you find you have long since forgotten about out of your shaking hands.
The irony of it holding next to no significance to you as you reside here now among dangerous criminals, despite its being the entire reason for your circumstances as they are.
"Should have just given us the damn thing," he says firmly as he opens the top of the velvet tie and glances inside for the prize within. "Up to the captain what happens to you, now."
Suddenly, another man pops up from around the doorway — blonde, swept back hair but tall much like the person you've thus far had the misfortune of dealing with. "You make him sound so much worse than he is."
"Well, one thing is for sure, he doesn't like strangers aboard his ship."
A simple laugh from under his breath, the blonde man closes his eyes at the words before offering his final comment and disappearing back from where he once came.
"Weren't we all strangers aboard this ship at one point?"
Even Hanzawa-san had pointed out the police's total reliance on teenage and younger brats that always stick their noses out of nowhere. 😂
Happy birthday Pale :D!!
Pale by @unu-nunu-art
So cute... They love fluffy balls!
as soon as i saw the dtiys posted, i got my tablet ready
the original is on @itsxroxannex‘s page go check it out!!!
Nightmare!Sans and Dream!Sans by @jokublog
 Teen Vogue - ATEEZ
Stuck in an inescapable hell with permanent roommate.
original dream belongs to @/jokublog original error belongs to @/loverofpiggies Dreamer!AU and all its versions of the characters belong to myself
 ATEEZ COSMIC COWBOY
A little bonus to this | Treasure
Awww that's right! ;w; I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed this little contribute of mine, thank you so much for hosting such a great event!╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
Now I'm Thinking TM about this idea... (°▽°) Thank you guys heheh! <3
El Perrito llanero mexicano 🦦es el gran ingeniero de la pradera🌄.
Esta especie de ardilla renueva y oxigena los suelos, además de fertilizar y controlar poblaciones de arbustos.🌾🌱
Edición: Nadia Torres
Publicación: Monica Sánchez
Happy Joong & San Thursday =)
 ATEEZ COSMIC COWBOY (2)
 ATEEZ COSMIC COWBOY (1)
Drew them from memory