#I had to keep from giggling to myself in class because it's kind of a neat yet absolutely ridiculous idea and they quickly scrapped the idea

[feralnumberfive]

So I learned today that back in WWII the RAF tested a night-fighting strategy where they would send up an aircraft (a modified A-20 Havoc/Boston) that had a giant spotlight and radar on it with night fighters (Hurricanes) to seek out German bombers. The Boston would locate the bomber(s) and then shine its giant spotlight on them and illuminate the bomber so that the fighters could attack it

It's the ultimate version of "Get his ass"

[enkvyu]

12:45am — gojo satoru ;

“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.

“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”

“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”

shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."

shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”

“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”

shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.

"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”

“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”

you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”

“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.

you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.

yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.

seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.

with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”

“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"

yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.

your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.

when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.

his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”

“morning. what’s with you?”

gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”

your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”

“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i am.”

you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”

“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”

“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”

“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”

you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”

“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”

you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”

“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"

“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”

gojo leans forward. “yes?”

“crazy.”

he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.

you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”

gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”

“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.

he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.

you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.

the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.

“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.

gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”

“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”

gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.

gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.

“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”

he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”

“yeah?”

“and calm?”

you nod. “more than you, at least.”

“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”

the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”

“oh my god, you do.”

“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”

“you think getou’s great?”

“don’t you?”

“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”

"what are you even saying?"

"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"

baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”

gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”

the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.

“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.

“nothing!”

“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.

getou blinks.

“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”

“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”

“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”

"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."

"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."

you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.

subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.

something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.

you look away hastily and inhale.

gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.

getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”

“nothing.” gojo says.

getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.

gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”

at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.

yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"

“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”

“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”

your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?

slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

did that mean…?

someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?

you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.

seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.

no, maybe you were wrong after all.

just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.

oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.

gojo has a crush on getou.

filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

betrayal [noun]  /bɪˈtreɪ.əl/

1 : the act of dissapointing a persons trust, hopes or expectations.

2 : revelation of something hidden or secret.

3 : failure to keep or honour a promise, principle or cherished memory, etc.

twelve — betrayal. wc: 1k

café neoro. 4:14pm

if you were to say you weren’t confused by the sudden cafe invitation, you’d be lying.

as you enter the front door, triggering the cafe’s bell to ring, you spot giselle sat in the far corner, biting her nails; a habit she does only when she’s dreading something.

that’s weird.

she spots you, dropping her hands to the table and nodding you over to come and sit with her.

“you’re here!” she squeals, “you’re here..”

the atmosphere is strange, you must admit and there’s something odd lining the air between you. so you begin to drone on about your class in efforts to ease off the weirdness.

“urg, im so sick of my professor just constantly leaving the hall. im literally paying to be here and he can’t even be bothered to stay!” you whine as you set your bag down beside you, sitting opposite giselle on the cafes patchwork coach.

it’s a cute little place, you and the girls come here often to catch up when you don’t see eachother for periods of time in exam season.

but for giselle to ask you here alone? when neither of you have exams for months?

there was something going on.

“honestly, i wish my professor would leave sometimes.” she replies. “she’s so boring!”

you laugh, spending the next 20 minutes complaining about your courses and gossiping about overheard conversations.

that’s until you decide to bring up giselle’s absence from the party the other night.

“where did you even go?!” you ask, too excited for your own good. but you know giselle.

and you know she’s forcing her smile.

“oh, just some room upstairs, no idea who’s. could have been chenles for all i know.” she laughed.

you take a sip of your coffee as you laugh in reply, winking at her jokingly. “so, who was the guy? was he good at yk… that stuff..”

she giggles as she nods. but her smile withers.

“look, yn.”

the sudden change of atmosphere brings you right back to the feeling of the beginning of your meet-up, the cold, stark vibe of something being wrong, of something eating away at whatever is between you.

“i told myself that i should be honest with you, so i will.” she continues.

“what is it, giselle? you’re scaring me.”

she’s silent for a moment.

the silence kills.

but you soon find out that it isn’t the silence that is killing you, its the thought that in these mere seconds, giselle is counting down the moments until she tells you who it is.

until she knowingly breaks your heart.

“it was jaehyun. the guy i slept with was jaehyun.”

your mind feels heavy, unattached even.

how could she do this? after everything you went through. she was the one who was there the entire time, she was the one who comforted you, telling you how he was in the wrong and how he deserved the worst kind of punishment for what he did.

and yet, in the end, she must have never truly believed it. because now she has betrayed your trust.

and she has betrayed you.

“what?” you can feel your vision going foggy, tears welling up in your eyes.

“i know, i know. i shouldn’t have, but can you really blame me?”

“yes!” you raise your voice, and your thankful that the cafe is near empty. “giselle…”

there’s a pause of silence as she lets you figure out what you want to say.

but you continue. “you know what he did to me. you hugged me as i cried when i found out. i had no friends because of him, none! all the girls in highschool hated me giselle, do you know how that feels?”

you’re crying at this point, but she listens, watches as you burst into tears.

“do you know how it feels to find out your bestfriend had been shit-talking you to all the girls just so he could get in their pants?! he had used me as a pickup line giselle, he had embarrassed me, telling girls he thought i was ugly, annoying, that he only tolerated me to make himself look better, all so that they wouldn’t get jealous! do you know how that feels?”

“…no.”

“so why would you do that?” you quieten down, almost to a whisper as you struggle to get your words out. “you know how much he hurt me, about how i can never be friends with half the girls in this college because to this day they still laugh and point. and yet, you don’t care about any of that.”

“it was one night, yn.”

“and yet you still felt that that one night was important than my feelings. how do u think im going to look when people find out my best friend has slept with him? i already look stupid enough!”

“yn, noone will know, i promise.” she replies.

“i know. that’s enough.” you stand up, leaving giselle sat there as you make your way to the door as you let the tears fall.

you feel 18 again, you feel the eyes, the giggles as you would when u walked down the hallway with jaehyun, unaware of what he had been doing behind your back.

jaehyun was probably so smug right now, knowing he had not only used you in highschool, but in college too, and with your own bestfriend on top of all that.

so now, you hate him even more that you ever did before.

you’ll never understand him, you’ll never know why he did what he did.

but there’s one thing you’ll know you will always do:

you will always hate him.

mlist — next

notes; so!.. i guess the truth is out now….. hope u guys don’t hate me too much! 😄😄 (btw there won’t be a chapter tmr bc im busy all day and don’t have the next chapter written, the next update will be sunday! sorry😞)

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[romanoffsbish]

Hear Me Out

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….

A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.

Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch

W/C: 3,788

"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."

Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.

"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."

Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.

"Why's Y/N here?"

Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.

——

It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.

"You know her?"

Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"

"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."

"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.

"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."

Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.

"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.

He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.

"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."

"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.

You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.

You understood him just fine...

Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.

"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.

"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.

"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."

The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.

"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.

The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.

"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."

"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.

"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."

The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.

"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.

"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."

You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.

"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.

"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."

Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.

He knew that he would be seeing her soon...

—

"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.

"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."

Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.

"Auntie Nat!"

Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.

Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.

Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.

Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.

Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.

Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.

Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."

"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."

Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.

"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.

"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.

Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."

Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.

Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.

It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.

Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.

Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.

You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"

Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.

You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.

Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.

Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.

What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.

Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.

Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.

When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.

Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.

She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.

You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.

Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.

Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.

This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.

Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.

Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.

Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.

After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."

"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.

The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."

"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"

Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"

Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."

"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.

Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.

"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."

Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.

The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.

Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.

Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.

The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands. 

"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"

"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."

"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.

“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”

“You understood but still did that?”

You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”

“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.

"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."

"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.

"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."

With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."

"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."

"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."

"Hey...."

"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.

"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.

"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.

Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.

Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.

"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.

"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."

——

[riordanness]

fictional — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none

‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’

I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.

Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.

I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.

Percy Jackson.

I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.

I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.

The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.

“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”

“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”

Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.

“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”

“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.

“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”

“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”

Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”

I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”

And even Andie can’t argue with that.

I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.

I perk up, though, when I hear something new.

“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”

Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.

A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.

I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.

Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.

The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.

This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.

And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.

The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”

I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.

“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”

I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.

I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”

The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.

“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”

I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

I just stare at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Your name is Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.

Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”

My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”

Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”

It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.

I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.

The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.

The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.

It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.

Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.

The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.

“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”

Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.

I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”

Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”

“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”

I relax. “It’s okay.”

I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”

Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”

“You don’t have plans?” he asks.

I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.

“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.

“Wait,” I say. “What?”

“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”

“You aren’t saying no.”

“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”

Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”

I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.

“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”

I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.

“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.

Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”

I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”

“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.

And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.

Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.

The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.

[theemporium]

Hi!!!

i was wondering if you could do Grumpy!JamesPotter x Sunshine!reader but with a soft spot for her and maybe he is like defending her in a situation or something!! xx

You’re write is amazing!!

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

By some grace that nobody could understand, James Potter had a soft spot for only one person and it was you.

Somehow, you—sunshine personified, bubbly and loved by most, if not all—had wiggled your way into the bespectacled boy’s heart and the whole student body knew you had him wrapped around your finger, even if you weren’t totally aware of the power you held over him.

There had been countless occasions where James had stepped up when someone was treating you wrong. You were far too kind to say something but James wasn’t. Whether it was another student or a friend or a professor, he was ready to put the person in their place. 

He hated watching you get walked all over and this was no different. 

The only difference was that he didn’t know it had been happening for a few weeks. You had never even mentioned to him that you had been having some difficulties with your potions partner, it had to come from Frank Longbottom who had told his friend after he had seen you wipe away some tears after class the day before. 

Nobody hurts his girl. Absolutely nobody. 

Especially not the likes of some Ravenclaw boy he didn’t care to know the name of (though Frank had told him his name was Henry).

“Jamie?” 

His head snapped up when he watched you walk down the corridor towards him, the depths of the dungeons seeping through the layers of clothing he was wearing. His lips twitched as you approached him, opening his arms for the hug he knew you were going to give him as a greeting—like you always do.

“Hey, sunshine,” he murmured as he wrapped his thick arms around you, enjoying the way you nuzzled yourself against his chest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him, but there was a smile on your face that told him you were happy to see him regardless.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having some issues in potions?” he asked, his brows furrowed slightly as he watched the way your face dropped a little. 

“James, it’s really not that bad—” 

“Don’t downplay your feelings,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not around me.” 

“I can sort it myself,” you said to him with a shrug, failing to meet his gaze because you both knew it was a lie.

“You don’t have to sort it yourself,” James murmured as he took two fingers to gently nudge your face up to look at him. “That’s what I’m here for.” 

“My hero,” you murmured with a shy smile.

James puffed his chest a little, enjoying the way you giggled. “You know it, sunshine.”

Despite your best efforts to make James promise he wouldn’t scare your potions partner too much, that was exactly what he did. He dropped a kiss on your temple and let you head into class whilst he waited for your partner to arrive. 

The second he saw the slimy git, his fists were bunched up in the fabric of Henry’s shirt and his back was pressed against the stony wall as James got in his face.

“If you make her cry or even let her smile drop for one fucking second, I’m gonna end you,” James gritted through clenched teeth. “You hear me?”

Henry gulped and nodded his head.

“I better not hear you giving her any more problems,” he huffed before he chucked the boy to the side, watching as he scrambled to stay on his feet and keep his books from falling. “I have eyes everywhere. Don’t think I’m joking.”

Henry barely held back a whimper as he rushed into the class. 

And James only bit back his grin, straightening his robes before he headed off to his next class, counting down the hours until he saw you again.

.

[anjaelle]

hii, can you write a dave lisewski x reader where reader is new at school and he volunteers to give her a tour of the school. Dave thinks she is really pretty and wants to be her friend, he asks questions about her and finds out that she likes comics and superhero’s just like he does and he asks her to come to his house after school to watch a new marvel movie that just came out. she says yes and they watch the movie at his house. during the movie dave just can’t keep his eyes off of her and he’s so in love with her even though he just met her.The movie ends and he walks her home because it’s getting late and he doesn’t want her to possibly get into some kind of danger. when they make it to her house( he finds out that they live close to one another) she thanks him for being so kind to her and kisses him on the cheek. he blushes and wishes her a goodnight. from then on they become great friends and maybe even more. (SORRY THIS IS SO LONG, js wanted it to be detailed so it’s easier for you!!🤭)

@baddestdu0y3t

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: None. Except general teen awkwardness?

a/n: Ok so I'll be honest and say that I haven't written for highschool characters since I was a highschooler myself about 10-11 years ago. So I'm admittedly a bit rusty. I probably won't make this a regular thing, because I don't really think I'm good at it haha. And I changed some things around and cut some things out for brevity, but kept the important bits. It kind of feels like a coming-of-age romcom.

(gif source)

--x--

Dave would happily get stabbed and hit by a car twenty more times if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the current situation he was in. He'd dripped oil from his bacon egg and cheese in his lap, and tried to clean the stain with soap and water, which created an almost bigger stain. The hand dryer in the mens room wasn't working, there were no paper towels, and he was running late to homeroom. Todd gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and offered the ever-helpful comment, "Don't freak. It'll dry eventually."

But it'd been a half hour, and it hadn't dried completely. A few people passed him with looks of disgust.

This day was already turning out to be shit, and it was only 9 AM. He shoved his head in his locker, wishing that a sinkhole would form in the middle of the school and swallow him whole. As the hallway cleared, he noticed you looking down at at a paper and distractedly walking in one direction before turning a corner and disappearing. You then turned back around and walked past him again in the other direction, with a furrowed brow and a pouting lower lip. When you turned to pass him a third time, he closed his locker and awkwardly leaned up against it.

"Hey! Are you lost?" He nearly shouted at you. You stopped short, startled out of whatever daze you were in, and looked at him as if you didn't even notice there was another person in the hall until now. Any plans he had to have a normal conversation left him immediately. He cut his eyes away from you. It was like staring into the sun.

"Hi." You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder, "And yeah. This school is way bigger than my old one and I'm kinda turned around."

"Oh, yeah, totally, for sure. It's--yeah, it's big." He said awkwardly pulling at the straps of his backpack, "I mean, the school is big. The halls are big. It's a maze. Even I still get lost sometimes, and I've been here almost 4 years."

God, Dave, shut the fuck up.

You giggled at him and he felt his cheeks warm at the sound of it.

"Um, can you help me?" You asked, quirking your head to get a better look at him.

"Sure. Yeah, I can walk you to your next class."

You smiled at him and he smiled back, revealing the cutest dimples you'd ever seen.

"What about your class?"

He peeked at your schedule and his brows disappeared under the curls on his forehead, "We have the same homeroom. So we'll be going the same way."

He was very different from the boys you talked to at your previous school. You thought of what your old friends would say about him. You weren't super popular or anything, but you navigated most social spaces with relative ease. It also meant hiding a lot of yourself. Dave had a kind face and warm eyes that studied you with a sense of eager curiosity that flattered you. Incidentally, you were curious about him too.

When you introduced yourself to him and shook his hand, you noticed immediately how strong his grip was and his calloused palms. Most guys you knew with hands like those played contact sports. He didn't seem like the type, at first glance. He seemed to notice your surprise but didn't quite understand the reason behind it.

"Sorry if my hands are sweaty," he said, instinctively wiping them on his pants.

You rushed to ease his fears, "No they weren't! You're fine." And then, "Do you play sports?"

"Nope. I mean...sometimes I play Wii Tennis. I don't know if that counts though."

You giggled again, "I think that counts."

Interesting. Maybe he did woodworking or mechanic stuff like your dad. You made a mental note for later.

You both strolled down the hall in no real rush to make it to your destination as you talked. He was incredibly animated and spoke with his hands when he got into the groove of the conversation. And when you talked about your old school or your family, he actively listened and asked even more questions.

"You're really cool," he finally said, breathlessly. If you could visibly blush, you're sure you would've. You've been called a lot of things, but never "cool" with such earnestness. "I just wish I'd met you when I didn't have bacon stains on my pants."

He looked down at himself again and grimaced at his own misfortune. You could almost laugh at how resigned he was. Like this was just an everyday thing he had to deal with.

"You could just do what the girls do when we have stains on our pants," you suggested. He quirked a questioning brow and you motioned with your hands. "Tie your hoodie around your waist. It'll hide the stain pretty well, I think."

His eyes widened like you'd revealed the secrets of the universe to him, "I...didn't even think of that."

He immediately took his backpack off and dropped it to the ground to unzip his hoodie. When you noticed his tee shirt, you heard an eager gasp slip from you before you could really stop it. His shirt had the different sketched out iterations of Batman's costume designs over the years, which included a mix of his comic and movie suits.

"I just really like your shirt." You explained as he tied his sweater around his waist. "I was raised in a DC household. My dad has a big box of old school batman comics in our basement that I used to poke through when I was a kid."

His face lit up at your confession, "You like comic books?"

"I used to. I mostly just watch the movies now. The good ones, anyway." You said, shrugging. In truth, you hadn't picked a comic up since middle school. You missed reading them sometimes, but you never really had anyone to talk about them with. So you just stopped. You explained as much to him and he hummed in thought.

"Well, you can always talk about them with me. Do you like Marvel, too?"

You scrunched your nose up at him and he gasped.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his dismayed expression, "I just think most Marvel movies are corny. And the comics can be a little soap opera-y to me. Maybe I'll give the comics another try, but I don't think I've seen any recent movies other than Black Panther and Thor Ragnarok."

When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way, "If you had to choose, would you say that those were your favorites?"

"Nope," you admitted, "My favorite is Captain America: The Winter Soldier."

"And not Civil War? That one's my favorite."

You shook your head as you both approached the door to your homeroom, "I may have only seen it in parts. I don't really remember it."

He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well if you wanted...we could watch it at my house next Saturday. Only if you want. My dad and my friend Todd will be there, so it won't be just us. But they won't be weird either. At least, I don't think so."

You smiled at him as he babbled on, only reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Let me ask my mom. She might ask for your dad's number, if that's okay?"

A small smile graced his pretty face.

He nodded, "Totally."

Todd wasn't super happy with the idea of you joining their movie night. But Dave watched him warm up to you until you were both practically friends, too. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly you two got along, but he summed that up to just how friendly and easy to talk to you were. He knew the movie front to back, so he couldn't help but watch you study the movie with deep interest to see how you reacted to his favorite parts. When all was said and done, the three of you sat in the living room discussing Civil War and if you were Team Cap or Team Stark. You all seemed to be in agreement that Tony was a war criminal who indoctrinated child soldiers. But you all were in disagreement about whether Tony deserved to have his ass kicked by two super soldiers.

"He literally didn't even know that he did anything wrong!" You argued to Todd, who rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that about Bucky because you think he's hot."

"Maybe so," you admitted, "but my point still stands. He was brainwashed, he wasn't responsible."

"So you wouldn't be upset if I killed your parents, and Dave knew but hid it from you, and then beat you up when you found out?" The blond asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth, "I dunno. I'd be pretty upset."

"That's different, Dave would tell me." You responded with a coy wink at your new best friend.

Todd groaned, "You think he'd throw me under the bus for you?"

"I mean--" Dave cut in, pushing himself from the couch to stand to his feet and stretch, "--she is really pretty. And she smells nice. You're not as pretty and you just smell like Axe."

Todd gasped in mock hurt and you motioned to yourself as if to say "look at the material."

When 9:00 hit, you said goodbye to Dave's father who invited you and your family back for dinner, and hugged Todd goodbye.

"You're still wrong about Tony." He mumbled.

"You're in denial."

"You're In denial."

When you broke away to hug Dave he hesitated, "I was going to walk you home if that's okay with you. No pressure. I just...Uber is expensive on Saturday nights, and I know you don't live too far. But I don't want you to feel unsafe."

You noticed Todd shoot an odd glance at Dave before schooling his features. You made another mental note, but nodded.

"Sure, thanks."

You still weren't used to how long city blocks were. So even though you lived only a few blocks away, it felt like so much longer. Despite everything, you were surprised by how quiet this section of Manhattan was at night. Some people milled about, either going to or coming from someplace else. The air was brisk enough to add a jolt of energy to your system, but it still wasn't so cold that you felt any rush to get home.

"So what's up with the callouses?" You suddenly asked. Dave seemed confused by the question, so you grabbed his hand and held it up to him, then turned his hands over to show his reddened knuckles.

"Oh. I-I'm a...boxer. I box." He stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only my dad and Todd don't know. So don't, like, bring it up around them. They'd freak out."

You hummed, "Okay."

He let out a sigh of relief. A sharp gust of wind from a passing wind tunnel chilled you to the bone, and you looped your arm through his.

"Oh!" You said, surprised.

"Are you cold?" He leaned in closer to you, "We can walk faster if you want."

"I just..my hands are a bit cold." That didn't explain the way you were wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor. But he didn't seem to mind. He shifted his hand in his sweater pocket.

"There's some room."

You felt your stomach flutter when his hand brushed against yours in his sweater pocket. The flutter turned into a rapid thud when his fingers laced through yours. Despite how ice cold your hands were, he didn't pull away.

"Is that okay?" He asked, shyly, fully prepared to move his hand if you objected. You gave his fingers a small squeeze.

"It's great, actually."

You carried on the casual conversation for another few blocks before stopping at a newly renovated brownstone. He realized then that your family definitely had more money than his.

"Here we are."

You slipped your hand out of his grasp when you realized you still had it in his pocket.

"So...I'll see you monday?" He asked, fidgeting with a loose piece of string on his sleeve.

"Of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

You looked him over one last time before you parted ways. He was your first real friend since you moved, but you still felt like there was so much about him that you didn't know. Not because he was particularly secretive, but because you felt like there was more to him than he let on. You unconsciously reached up and moved a curl away from his eyes. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, in response.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," you said, "I just think you're really cool, Dave Lizewski."

His smile bloomed into a wide grin, exposing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "You're cool, too. Probably the coolest person I know, actually."

Your heart was thudding in your ears when you leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek. Before you pulled away, you heard him gasp softly in surprise.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and checked to see that it was your mom asking where you were.

You usually let your mom know ahead of time when you were on your way home, but you felt uncharacteristically out of sorts. You shot her a quick text letting her know you were outside.

"I hate to do this," you said, finally breaking him out of his stupor, "I really have to go now. Mom's asking questions. Text me when you get home, okay, Curly?"

You gently touched his arm and climbed the steps of your house to the front door. He gave you a weak thumbs up, but he still stared at you with a shocked, flushed face. "G-gotcha."

"And don't forget."

"I won't. I promise."

When you finally shut the door behind you, you peeked out of the small eyehole to watch as he touched his face in surprise and walked down the street in the wrong direction.

[mythunderstorm]

Let you go | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

summary: despite breaking up with you years ago, it seems like Max‘ still can’t forget about the time you shared.

warnings: short mention of J*s Verstappen, not really an happy ending but still sweet? idk

Normally I don’t write in first person but idk, just wanted to try something so enjoy some (short) heartbreak from Max‘ pov while I mentally prepare myself for the singapore gp lol

masterlist

It had been years since we broke up. Maybe five or even six, I think. Highschool sweethearts. Unbelievably in love but sadly not meant to last. I haven’t seen you since graduation, you going to university, I fulfilled my dream.

That‘s why this is the last place I ever expected to see you again - at one of my races. I remember that smile, that silky hair, those bright eyes, still the same from those years ago.

Just.. you.

You look a little lost, like you’re not exactly sure where to go or what to do. I was the one ending things. My career got more serious, I told you my attention should be a 100% on racing now. I told you what my father told me. I‘m sure you know my dad had something to do with the break up but you never dared to actually ask. I wouldn’t have told you the truth, anyway.

My eyes are entirely focused on you and then your eyes met mine. You realize you‘ve been caught. I notice you're with a friend, maybe even a new relationship. Regardless, seeing you brought back many bitter memories and feelings. I look forward, determined to ignore you, ignoring the part of my soul still in love with you.

I wonder if you sometimes wonder what would have happened if I never ended things with you. Because I certainly do. Would we still be together now? Or would it have ended one way or another?

I wonder if you still miss me, or if there's still any room for love in your heart. Because despite all the time that has passed, I love you. More than you know.

I can see you look up at the podium, proud but sad at the same time. I actually archived my dreams. The ones I told you about all the time while we were teenagers. The whole reason why I broke up with you in the first place. I did it. But sadly, not with you by my side.

It was heartbreaking. I still loved you deeply and after today, I wonder what might have been, if I made a mistake all those years ago.

Bullshit. I know I made a mistake that night. Ever since, your eyes kept me up at night.

I had to try and forget you, but that was much easier said than done. I missed the warmth of your eyes, your warm comforting touch. I missed your sweet voice and laugh. I missed everything about you.

Would you ever talk to me again, if you had the chance? I would want to talk to you. I‘m sure you miss me, even if it’s just a little bit. I was always good at reading your expressions.

But I am not the same guy you used to date in highschool. I’m not sure if I’m still the kind, caring Max you met and fell in love with. Because I don’t think I am that person anymore.

But I wonder the same about you. If you’re still the same caring, kind and friendly person you used to be. But I’m sure you are. You are perfect.

Even in the depths of our break up, no one else could replace you, and I think I'd known that back when we were together. It was impossible to not love you. Your presence alone made me feel like I had wings.

I look back at the late nights you sneaked me into your bedroom. Trying to keep your giggles at bay, getting lost in my eyes.

I miss those late nights we spent together and all the times we snuck around for that quick kiss or touch.

I miss holding your hand secretly underneath the table in the geography class we had together.

I miss holding you closely and feeling the heat of your body.

But most of all, I miss the warm touch of those lips. I wonder if they still taste and feel the same.

Oh what I’d give to kiss you again. Only once. If only you knew the feelings I felt for you. How the mere thought of your fingers on my skin or your voice whispering in my ear made my world stop.

I miss those long and tight hugs, I miss holding you in my arms as if I never wanted to let you go as I kissed your neck.

Oh god, I wish I was down there right now, next to you.

You smile at me and I ask myself if you’re bathing in memories and sorrow just like me. You throw one last glance at me, full of love but full of despair. Like you’re face is trying to say that you’ll always love me endlessly but it just wasn’t meant to be.

I look up and our eyes meet once again, though I know it is for one final goodbye. My heart beats faster as I look down at you from the podium and see this smile on your face. That smile I fell in love with so many years ago. I can't believe you've always lived in my heart, this entire time.

And now I let you go.

Or at least, I try.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SNEAKY

A/N: actually surprised this concept made it into a fic, but here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

SUMMARY: Everyone is into the hot TA that substitutes for your professor. One sneaky picture leads you to what every girl dreamed of in class.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You’ve seen him around. All you knew that he was a graduate student, very good looking, someone freshman girls always stare at and giggle when he looks their way, but your paths never actually crossed.

Right until this casual Tuesday morning when instead of seeing Professor Russell, he strolled into the room and took his spot on the podium. Every girl in your class sighed at the same time as soon as he unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Good morning, I was asked to substitute Professor Russell, he had some last minute family issues to deal with. I’m Harry, I’m his TA and I will try my best not to make you all fall asleep,” he joked and then started his lesson.

It’s been thirty minutes since then and every female student is eagerly listening to his words, paying more attention to him than they ever did to Professor Russell. And you’re no exception.

He is good-looking if you’re only considering his appearance, handsome face, fit form, a smooth voice and those sparkling green eyes all add up to his charm. Then he tops it all with his insane knowledge, talking about ethnonationalism as if he was born reciting studies about the topic. It’s always insanely attractive when a man has a brain and the looks as well.

The group chat you have with a few other girls in the class is blowing up, messages have been flowing about Harry, some of them are taking sneaky pictures of him, but they are sitting far in the back and for the first time they wish they were in the front row with you.

KACEY: Y/N I’m begging you, take a good pic of him!!!!

WREN: Snap a whole fucking portfolio for me pls!

They’ve been begging you and it’s starting to piss you off so you finally give in.

Unlocking your phone you open the camera and try to angle it from your lap to snap him, but not make it obvious. It’s harder than you thought, because he keeps pacing back and forth, so most of the pictures come out blurry until you finally take one clear one, sending it into the group chat just for them to lose their minds.

QUINN: I’m dead, I’m framing it in my dorm room.

WREN: How is he so fucking handsome???

KACEY: I’m touching myself tonight.

You almost laugh out loud at the last text, but manage to control yourself. When you look up from your phone you catch Harry’s eyes on you as he’s talking and you swear a shiver runs down your spine from the intensity of his gaze before he looks away.

When class is over you’re circled by your friends and you rush out of the room, but glancing back one last time your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before he disappears from your view.

After that, every time you open your camera roll you end up tapping on that one photo of him, musing about how good he looked and you can’t shake off the steamy thoughts that invade your mind when you lie in bed in the evening, imagining having him next to you. You wish you heard some kind of gossip about him, so many guys are talked about around campus, how they perform in bed, but you heard nothing about Harry, the only person you’re curious about.

Friday night your roommate is adamant to get out and have a few drinks, but you’re not in the mood, mostly because she always ends up abandoning you for his ex. Somehow, she bribes you into going to the sports bar for cocktails, swearing tonight will be different.

She pays for the first round and you start to loosen up, you see lots of familiar faces around, it’s a popular place for students. There’s a football game tonight, every TV in the bar is broadcasting the game, though it doesn’t interest you that much. After two more rounds you’re definitely enjoying yourself, mingling with other students around, just having a blast after such a busy week.

You’re at the bar, waiting for your turn to order another round when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Ow, I’m sorry.” Two hands grab onto your hips to steady you and when you turn around you’re surprised to see a familiar handsome face.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” The words roll off your tongue way too easily thanks to your tipsy state, but luckily Harry doesn’t mind your blunt reaction.

“It is me, yeah,” he chuckles. “And you’re… I’m sorry, I remember you from Professor Russell’s class, but I don’t know the names yet.”

“I’m Y/N. I sat in the front row,” you hold your hand out for him that he shakes gently.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you narrow your eyes at him curiously.

“It means that, erm, I caught you sneakily taking pictures of me.”

Your eyes grow wide and your mouth runs dry, you got caught. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought, apparently.

“I-I’m so sorry, it’s not what you think, I was just—“

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, interrupting your rambling. “I found it funny.”

You’re slightly relieved he is not holding it against you and mostly that he didn’t call you out in front of the whole class.

“God, the girls in the back were bullying me to take a picture, I was pressured into it!” you laugh.

“Oh, poor thing,” he teases you, pretending to be touched, to which you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Wow, getting a little cocky, aren’t we?”

“Only with people who pretend to be paparazzi,” he grins down at you, placing a hand onto the bar next to you, his arm now pressing against yours.

“In that case, you should be just this cocky with everyone else in that class, because I was not the only one snapping pictures.”

“For real?” he laughs nervously and you find it endearing that just a moment ago he was so confident, but now you can see his cheeks turning pink.

“Absolutely.”

“Great. There goes all my professionalism,” he exhales, shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, poor thing,” you pout at him, using his own words, which catches his attention and his eyes cut to yours, an unreadable expression on his face. “Relax, big boy,” you at his arm. “At least you had everyone’s attention the whole time, Professor Russell could never achieve that.”

The bartender finally comes up to you and you place your order along with Harry’s as you carry your conversation on. If you weren’t tipsy you would definitely freak out, ramble and act weird, but the alcohol in your system lets you keep your cool and chat with him easily.

You get so engaged that you forget about going back to your roommate, you get stuck at the bar, talking and laughing with Harry who on top of being handsome and smart is also quite funny. He truly is the whole package.

You even have a shot with him, both of you ditching the people you came with, but when it finally hits you, you realize that your roommate is in the corner with his ex, as usual and Harry’s friends are too focused on the game to notice that he’s missing.

He is definitely your type and from the way he stay close to you all evening you’re guessing he might be interested in you as well, but you wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries, though technically he is not your teacher. He only substituted one time, he holds no power over you in the school system.

When the bartender calls out for the last round you realize how much time has passed.

“Shit, I should get going, I need to study tomorrow,” you roll your eyes.

“Where do you live?”

“Bridgeway, it’s like five minutes away from here.”

“I’ll walk you home, it really is pretty late.”

You don’t protest, just grab your jacket and head out. The cold night air hits you in the head, but you’re definitely still tipsy by the time you reach your dorm.

“Thanks for the drinks and the walk home,” you chuckle, turning to face him in front of the entrance.

You don’t want him to go, the wildest part of you just wants to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him into your room, but you at least want to kiss those lips you stared at for so long at class and tonight as well.

“Good night, Y/N,” he nods with a polite smile and you know if you don’t say anything, it’s all gonna end here.

“You know, I still have the picture saved on my phone.”

He arches an eyebrow at your confession and he slowly steps closer to you, keeping intense eye-contact.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, it’s really useful on lonely nights when I’m in bed.”

Sober Y/N would have never said that out loud, but drunk Y/N is shooting her shot, big time.

Harry takes his time staring back at you, his eyes lazily dragging down to your lips, your body and then back to your face. He runs his tongue across his pink lips and you’re moments away from just throwing yourself at him. But before you could lose control he speaks up, leaning so close to your ear you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. And if you feel lonely in the morning when you’ve sobered up, call me.”

With parted lips you just stand there, watch him reach into your back pocket to grab your phone. He types his number in and then hands it back to you. You should get going, but you’re frozen from the offer he just made to you.

“Y/N, be a good girl and go to your room, will you?”

You can only nod and somehow, your legs start moving, taking you into the building. It’s a complete blur how you get to bed, but you do. When you wake up in the morning you feel like a jeep has run you over, memories from last night slowly creeping back to your mind.

Harry.

One memory hits you after the other and then you remember what happened in front of the building. Did that actually happen or did you just dream it?

Reaching for your phone you frantically open up your contacts and there it is, Harry’s number saves, proof that last conversation actually happened. Your thumb hesitantly lingers over the call button until you suddenly tap on it.

It rings a few times and you’re right about to change your mind and end the call when he finally answers, his sultry, morning voice making you throb instantly.

“Hey, still feeling lonely?”

“Very lonely,” you breathe out, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ll text you my address. I’ll make breakfast while you get here.”

“Are we only gonna eat?”

He chuckles lowly on the other end of the call and you have to bite into your bottom lip not to moan at the sound.

“I’m hungry for more too. What about you?”

“I’m starved.”

“Great. Then better hurry.”

And then the call ends. Suddenly, you’re not even that hangover.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lightlycareless]

I was on Twitter/X and saw someone mention why Naoya is popular among Japanese fans and a big reason apparently is that he speaks in a cutesy dialect that’s only used by girls. And that it’s the kind of way of speaking where girls can insult you and it’s hard to be offended. And now I can only imagine Y/N reacting to this grown man insulting her in this cute dialect 🤭

Heya anon!!!

Yessssss! I quite recently saw a Tiktok talking about that and thought it was really unexpected, but cute at the same time? Ironic for sure too… guess it explains how he got so popular since even the author has called him a total jerk 😂

Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Kansai dialect, nor think there’s an equivalent to it in English, so I’m guiding myself with how it was translated in the manga, and perhaps my delusions too 😏 in order to write the following.

warnings: none.

The first time you notice his peculiar way of speaking would be when you met him many, many years ago, in jujutsu high. Everything about him was highly enthralling, from his appearance to his background, but when he opened his mouth…

Your curiosity ramped up to even higher levels, longing to know everything about him, as well as see the extent of his “cutesy” talk.

And boy, does it not disappoint.

It would happen unexpectedly one day. Let’s say that after a bunch boring classes you eventually grew very hungry and tired. So, after deciding you were long overdue for a break (and because you hadn’t prepared anything beforehand) you head over to the cafeteria to get something to eat and rest.

… a big mistake, because soon after you finish eating, you begin to feel sick, stomach twisting and churning, to the point you don’t think yourself capable of continuing with the rest of your classes.

Naoya is amongst the few that (vividly) notices your extended absence, and while he will never admit it out loud, he was worried that something bad happened to you, thus, he roamed across the school grounds in hopes of finding you.

When he does, you’re sitting by one of the benches, tightly holding onto your stomach as you debate whether to die there or die on the way to the infirmary.

“What’s wrong with you?” Naoya bluntly asks.

“I…. I think I ate something spoiled.” You whimper, barely able to look him in the eye.

“Does your tummy hurt or something?”

“Yes, it’s awful, it’s like I’m being—my what?” you blink—did you hear that right?

“Your tummy.” He repeats, oblivious to your reaction, far more preoccupied with your health. “Does it hurt?”

“My… tummy…?” A smile begins to part your lips, and suddenly, your pain is all but forgotten. “Did you say tummy??”

“I… I did….?” Naoya says, flustered and unsure whether this is something good or not to admit.

He soon finds the answer.

“How adorable!!” you gush, and by now, Naoya is red as a tomato—because he clearly doesn’t want to be seen as adorable by his crush!

“I said stomach!! I meant to say stomach!!” He rushes to defend himself, but it’s too late now, he’s already admitted to the crime.

“Noooo, you said tummy!!” you continue to jest. “My thummy wurts vewy, vewy, bad Naoya-kun…”

“Ugh, you can die out here for all I care…”

“No, wait Naoya!” you gasp, quickly standing up and reaching for me. “Can you at least accompany me to the infirmary? I’ll forget about this, I swear!”

Of course, you don’t let this go so easily, in fact, when the two start dating you continue teasing him about it—but you just couldn’t help it!! It just comes to him so naturally, you had to bring it up anytime you could, you know?

“Why are you upset? Did daddy get mad at you again?” you ask.

“Yes! That old man can’t keep himself out of my—wait, no—don’t call him daddy!” Naoya stammers, you giggle. He’s not ignorant to the times he’s condescendingly referred to Naobito with a that “nickname”, yet it didn’t mean he’d like to hear you calling him that as well!

“Why? Do you prefer I’d call you daddy?”

His breath hitches, something igniting inside him.

“…Not here.”

“Ok” you smile. “I won’t call you daddy, then, daddy. Wouldn’t want you to get angry at me.”

“… keep instigating me, princess, and I won’t reward you later tonight.”

I think the more you delve into this aspect of his, the more you find it adorable, to the point where you find his words a bit less serious; however, you’d eventually grow accustomed to it, and maybe even adopted some mannerisms of your own 🤭

I know you were referring to Naoya insulting Y/N but honestly I have no idea how it would be... I'm as dry as dry can get when it comes to it :'( but I still hope you were able to enjoy this small scenario! Gotta say, watching him say daddy in the manga was unexpected, but got me thinking what other things he'd say in that way, you know?

ironically, I think he might be the best when talking to children because of that—when he's not being his tsundere/rude self.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I can't wait to hear how his voice sounds when it's finally animated, I hope they're able to keep his dialect and see what the fuss is all about 🤭😂

Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

[1d1195]

Tulips

This is the story I dubbed as therapeutic for myself. I've been struggling a lot lately (I apologize for the delay in posting). I actually wanted this to be more but I wanted to post very badly. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy a lot of fluff and bit of angst.

Harry was convinced that even if they did end their relationship (and he was certain that would never happen) he would thank her for the heartbreak.

Harry was at the grocery store, passing the florist department when he realized his mistake. He had been dating her for nearly two months when he came to the realization that he hadn’t gotten her a bouquet of flowers yet. He felt horrible immediately and wanted to remedy the situation as quickly as he possibly could.

But he wanted her to like the flowers he got, and he wanted it to be a surprise. Neither of which he was sure he could pull off when he hadn’t asked her once what her favorite flower.

Like an absolute creep, he messaged her youngest sister on Instagram; he had at least met her in passing on one of their dates when they stopped for a coffee while she was working. Harry hadn’t met the other two just yet so messaging them would have seemed insane.

Hiiii. Uh...sorry to message you like this...any chance you know your sister’s favorite flowers?

Oh, my goodness, that’s too sweet! Umm...now that I think about it, I’m not sure. Let me ask.

Er...I was hoping it could be a surprise.

Aww...Don’t worry I have just the idea, wait one minute.

Harry waited patiently for her response thinking about how smitten he was with the beautiful girl. Just the mere thought of her brought a smile to his face, making him nearly giggle with how much he liked her. Flowers didn’t seem like enough. She deserved a whole garden.

Here’s what I got. She’s so sad sometimes *eyeroll*

Harry frowned and clicked on the screenshot titled Will Recipients. He chuckled at the name. He knew it was between the four girls and Harry was looking for his lovely lady’s response in the many messages they managed to send. He was slightly amazed they had time to send all of them in a matter of five minutes that he texted her sister.

Her sister started: I’m doing a project for school. What’s your favorite flower?

Harry didn’t know which middle sister was which, but he thought their responses were funny, nonetheless. What kind of project asks about your favorite flower?

I like daisies.

That’s the most boring answer I’ve ever heard. Harry knew the youngest was brutal sometimes and he thought of messaging with Gemma, and it was nothing in comparison to four girls ranging from their late teens to their mid-twenties. It’s for my stats class.

I took that class, we never did a flower thing.

Can you just tell me?

Finally, the oldest answered and Harry examined her little gray message for entirely too long. Like the one I actually like? or the one I tell everyone I like? That was her response.

What kind of lunatic lies about their favorite flower?

The kind that gets told their favorite is old-ladyish all the time. Or laughed at because it’s a stupid flower. Forget it, I like sunflowers.

Harry frowned and responded to her sister once more. Any chance you could find out the real one?

Sure!

Within moments Harry had another screenshot.

Hey drama queen, I won’t tell the others, what’s your real favorite flower. I’ll even keep my comments to myself.

Tulips.

Nothing else. That was the only thing she wrote. Harry didn’t really know what to expect but it wasn’t tulips.

Thank you, love. I appreciate it.

Any time Harry! Let me know how she likes them!!!

Harry was planning when he’d see her next and looked into all types of tulips and how to care for them as well. He wanted her to like them and didn’t want her to feel bad about liking them. Making her happy was his goal. He didn’t really feel any particular way about tulips at all. He didn’t really think they were old-ladyish so he wondered where that came from. He felt bad the poor thing had to hide her real feelings. He never wanted her to feel that way around him.

Harry thought it would seem too obvious if he brought flowers right away. So he had to wait for just right the time which gave him plenty of time to research the perfect color and care needed for the pretty girl that deserved pretty flowers.

*

Harry knocked on her door holding the bouquet in his hand. They were going to dinner and a movie that evening and Harry came prepared—especially since it was now approaching nearly three months since they began dating. After a quick greeting she seemed to finally notice all at once the flowers in his hand. “Kitten?” He asked gently as she stared at the flowers. Her eyes sort of glazed over.

“Are you the reason my sister was asking us our favorite flower?” She wondered.

Harry frowned a little. First, she was too smart. He was sad she knew so quickly the motives of her sister asking the question were tied to him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she still lied to her sister, and these weren’t her favorite flowers. Harry bit his lip and sighed. “Er...yeah,” he sounded so shy. “M’sorry, kitten...I thought I got the right—” She shook her head and stayed silent as Harry stopped speaking. It was so silent. Nearly uncomfortable with how silent it was. Why would her sister lie to him?

God, he really liked her, and he thought he ruined everything just by getting her flowers. His frown deepened and he sighed as he went to the kitchen to find a vase. She stayed by the door almost in a trance, and Harry felt a little awkward trying to figure out what her reaction meant.

“Harry?” She said softly and suddenly hurried to the kitchen. He was filling the vase with water, and he looked at her entering the kitchen a tad nervously.

“Yeah, angel?” He asked.

“Thank you,” the thankfulness, the kindness, the overwhelming amount of gratitude in her voice almost shattered Harry. She was so grateful for the flowers.

He sighed with relief and smiled at her as he put the stems into the vase. Setting it on the counter he came to her side and slid his hands up her neck and gently rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “’Course, beautiful,” he hummed and pressed his lips against hers. Kissing was still kind of new—and he loved the way she nearly sighed each time their mouths connected. He smiled as he pulled away. “Sorry it took me s’long t’get y’some.”

 She bit her lip. “What do you mean?” She asked.

“Should have gotten y’flowers every time I saw you,” he smiled and rubbed his thumb on her lips. He kissed her forehead and then the tip of her nose before he turned his attention back to the vase and settled it in the middle of her coffee table. “Y’ready t’go?” He asked.

Since she seemed speechless, she nodded. Harry gave her a reassuring smile, took her hand, and left happy the bouquet seemed to be a hit.

*

They were flowers. Flowers. Just flowers. She wasn’t going to lose her mind over a bouquet.

But she kind of was.

Fortunately, Harry was giving her a hilarious recap of the movie that she was hardly able to stay focused on while it played. His summary allowed her to make believe she had watched the whole movie. While instead, for the better part of the last two hours, she really thought only about the tulips that Harry had placed so effortlessly in the middle of her apartment. As if the flowers didn’t mean everything in the world. Like it wasn’t earthshattering that he got her flowers.

“Are you okay, love?” He hummed and gave her hand a squeeze as they made it to the restaurant. He put his hand on her lower back as he held the door open for her and ushered her inside. His eyebrows pinched together. “Did y’like the movie?” He wondered nervously as she walked inside. Maybe his recap was overdone. But Harry enjoyed the movie and the way she seemed so engrossed and how captive she was through his summary he assumed she did. Maybe he was wrong this time about her—like he thought she didn’t like the flowers. She grabbed the next door and held it open for him but he placed his hand above her to hold it open so she could walk through first once more.

She would have enjoyed the movie if she paid any attention to it. But she didn’t. So, she fibbed a little. “I did, yeah. M’just a little tired... movies make me tired,” she explained with a breath of exhaled laughter. That wasn’t a lie. They were lucky they were in a theater because if they were at one of their apartments—and she wasn’t having a meltdown over a bouquet—then she would have fallen asleep for sure.

He frowned. “Oh, m’sorry, kitten. D’you want me t’take you home instead?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, I’ll perk up. I’ll get a coffee,” she said and reached for his hand as they stepped to the hostess stand. She squeezed it reassuringly. “I...I like our date nights,” she smiled sweetly.

Harry seemed to sigh with relief. He liked her so much. Lately, more and more, he didn’t want their date nights to end either. Of course, he would have taken her home if that was what she wanted. He would do anything for her. But he was so glad he didn’t have to. He wanted to spend forever with her. “Okay,” he said with a happy grin. Turning his attention to the host, “I have a reservation for two under Styles?” The host nodded and brought them to their table. “I know it’s not your job, but could you get us a cup of coffee, please? Cream and sugar,” he asked as he held her chair out for her. The amount of chivalry and manners in Harry made her melt every moment they were together. No one ever held a door open for. Certainly, never pulled a chair out for her. He always asked so politely for anything she wanted. It made her fall so effortlessly and heavily in love with him at every moment.

Harry sat down and placed his napkin in his lap. She kind of wished she told him she would like to go home. She would much rather enjoy the bouquet and sit with Harry on her couch until she did fall asleep. The restaurant seemed too public, even though no one was paying any mind to them. They were just a young couple on a date and there wasn’t anything to really witness.

But she was in love.

And Harry was perfect.

She wanted him all to herself. “Have y’ever eaten here?” Harry asked.

“Umm,” she looked at the name on the menu as she did wonder if she had been there before when he broached the date idea earlier in the week. As she scanned the titles of the dishes, she responded to him. “I think so—but it was a while ago.”

Smiling, he nodded. “M’a huge fan of the cauliflower.”

“We should get it then,” she answered. “If you’re willing to share,” she winked at him.

He chuckled. “Only with you, kitten.”

*

When they headed back to her apartment, he rubbed his thumb on the outside of her hand. He loved touching her—even just holding her hand made him feel like he was floating. “D’you have any plans for tomorrow, love?” He asked.

“Probably just clean and read some. Maybe go for a walk or something,” she shrugged.

“That sounds nice.”

“How about you?”

Just think about you all day. He thought to himself. “Hmm...nothing comes t’mind. Probably just lounge around.”

She nodded. “Well...you should come lounge around with me then,” she said sweetly. He turned to look at her with a grin.

“Yeah?”

A beat of silence, her lips pursed together, and she glanced up to meet his gaze briefly as she spoke finally. Harry thought she was nervous again. He didn’t like that she was nervous—he wanted her to feel utterly comfortable around him. “I really like spending time with you, Harry.”

Harry leaned against the wall beside her door and smiled at her. He couldn’t see his own face of course, but he hoped his expression was as loving as he felt. “I love spending time with you, angel,” his voice was filled with infatuation, she felt her face warm under his gaze. Gently, he reached for her and brought his hand to cup her face so he could kiss her once more. He let his lips linger against hers for a few moments and peppered a few extra kisses along her jawline. “Goodnight, kitten. Send me a text when y’want me over,” he nearly hummed as he left her standing in front of her door.

He heard her sigh near dreamily and he smirked to himself as he headed off to his car. As he turned his car over, her message popped up on his screen. Thank you again for the flowers, Harry. It was so so sweet <3

Of course, kitten. Glad you like them :) See you tomorrow, sleep well. Xx Alone with his thoughts Harry left feeling excited that she liked the tulips so much but was suddenly overcome with disappointment—but not disappointment of her. Merely because her reaction made him a bit sad.

He messaged her sister before pulling away from his parking spot. She LOVED the flowers. Thank you for the help, love! Xx

Woooo! Yay! I’m so glad I could help!

Harry was sincere in his thankfulness—she did love them. But she loved them so much for so much more than they were... and Harry felt...devastated by that fact. He wanted to know why. Wanted to know why she was so quiet when he entered the apartment. She was rendered speechless. So much so that it seemed she didn’t pay any mind to the movie. He didn’t harp on it of course, but now alone he couldn’t help but think about it. He supposed he would see her the before he knew it the very next day maybe he could figure a way to ask then.

*

It was early afternoon when she finally messaged him. Harry was waiting anxiously by his phone with nervous energy worried that she wouldn’t ask him over. Hiii I’d love to have you over if you’re not busy.

Harry thought that maybe he should have waited longer than thirty seconds to respond. It seemed desperate. I’ll be there soon, love :)

He arrived nearly fifteen minutes later, knocking on her door and smiling at her as she answered. He leaned against the wall beside the door frame just as he did the night before. Pushing off he smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. “Mmm,” he hummed. “Hey, angel.”

“Hi Harry,” she murmured into his chest.

They were quiet for a moment before he released all but her hand and gently nudged her inside. “Didn’t know there was anything t’clean in here,” he smirked as he inspected how spotless it was (as it always was). He enjoyed the scent of the candle she lit that seemed to mix so effortlessly and perfectly with the smell of the dryer running from another room.

She giggled cutely. “It’s not...bad, y’know...I just am a bit particular. And I like to make things look nice.”

“It’s lovely, kitten,” he chuckled. “Do y’want to watch a movie? Or read...?”

“Are you...sure?” She asked.

“Well yeah. Y’said we were lounging. I’ll do whatever y’want, love,” he made himself at home on the couch and he set the book he had in his bag on the coffee table beside her bouquet of tulips that still (thankfully on Harry’s part) looked beautiful. He patted the seat beside him. After a second of uncertain hesitation, she situated herself beside him. “Jus’ glad t’be spending time with you,” he said and dropped another kiss to her temple. Turning to face her she smiled at him. Harry thought he would melt just from the warmth of her pretty lips curving up in his direction. He cupped her face delicately between his hands. He brushed his lips over hers causing that beautiful, wonderful sigh to escape her lips. Harry rested his forehead against hers. “M’in love with you,” he told her.

She all but gasped as her lips parted ever so slightly as she looked at him mere millimeters away from her face. “Really?” She whispered.

That crushed him. “Very much, beautiful,” he murmured even though he was heartbroken by how...confused she looked. Of course, Harry loved her. She was perfect. “Been loving y’more every day.” She blushed between his hands, and he kissed her nose. “Y’don’t have t’say it back,” he said softly. His heart broke a bit at the idea. “I know m’probably a bit early, but...I jus’ wanted you t’know tha—”

“I love you,” she said simply, not quickly like she was rushing to say it. It was definitive. She didn’t have to follow up with her next words, but he was so lucky and grateful she did. “So much.” Harry felt breathless and he leaned forward and kissed her so deeply he thought he might never breathe again.

*

Harry was helping her with the dishes after they had eaten at his place. He was tired of having her overnight bag sitting on his bed and just a drawer of her things being the only part of her around when she wasn’t. But that wasn’t true. She was constantly in his thoughts. Even in the brief seconds he wasn’t thinking about her, the notes she left behind for him to find made his attention turn right back to her. “You okay?” She asked kindly. “You seem a little quiet and out of sorts.”

He shrugged. “Mmm,” he sighed. “Jus’...thinking.”

“Sounds scary,” she smirked after a moment.

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I would handcuff you t’myself.” She giggled and turned her attention to making sure the dishes didn’t shatter as she put them back. “D’you ever wish we lived together?” He asked.

She paused. Harry thought that maybe as good as things were going after a year, it was still too soon. Sure, they spend nearly every weekend together. They talked every day and saw each other every other day. But maybe that was enough for her. Maybe it was easier to just have a Harry-weekend and live her life during the week. Harry pursed his lips about to take back his offer—or make some excuse that it it didn’t need to be a right now thing. “You want to live with me?” She wondered.

He turned to lean against the counter, and he watched as she put the dishes away as if she did in fact live there. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I’d see you a lot more,” he reminded her. “Wouldn’t be sick missing you s’much,” he brought his hand to his mouth, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and pulled nervously at her response. “If y’don’t—”

“No, I...I really want to live with you,” she nodded. “If you want to live with me,” she reaffirmed quietly.

Harry dropped his hand from his mouth and grabbed her hand. “Yeah?” The smile on his lips grew by the second. “Of course, I do, angel. You’re the best part of m’day—I want it every day.” She looked down slightly and smiled. Harry didn’t miss the blush that painted her cheeks and he squeezed her hand. “I love you,” he reminded her.

“God, I love you, too.”

*

It was Saturday. The first one they were living together. Harry moved into her place, and she was so utterly accommodating. There was so much room for all his stuff. She made it effortless. They went through everything logistically—her bed was bigger, but Harry had a better couch. Harry wanted to hire a mover, but she was insistent that she and their friends could do it. And they did.

It was embarrassing how long Harry lay in bed. He scrolled through social media, answered a few work emails, and read some of the books he started before he went to bed last night. He would have gotten up sooner if he noticed the sound of her wandering about the apartment. It wasn’t until he heard a few dishes clink together that he realized she was home. He assumed she may have been running a few errands—she mentioned them before—things she wanted to move in for herself.

After the dish clinking, he paid closer attention to her movements and that was when he heard the distinct sound of a cleaning spray bottle and the sound of the washing machine going. Shit. He thought to himself, threw the covers back, and marched out to the kitchen.

He realized he should have started with a good morning, but it was too late. “What are y’doing?” He asked.

“Oh! Hi Harry,” she jumped at his question. She must have only half heard him through the music playing in her ears. She turned to him with a hand over her heart. She wasn’t used to Harry being around so casually. She was used to him shirtless and only in boxers, but it was the first time seeing it in their own place. He didn’t seem amused as he waited for her to answer his question. Which she nearly managed to forget while she waited for her heart to simmer down. “Uh...cleaning?”

Harry looked...annoyed? That couldn’t be right. She didn’t do anything to cause him to feel annoyed. She was quiet and cleaning all morning. It couldn’t have been an issue. Harry was just hanging out in their room and—

“You’ve been cleaning all morning, yeah?” He said already knowing the answer. She felt like she was suddenly in trouble. She nodded solemnly.

“Uh...yes,” she said quietly.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Pursing his lips he glanced around at the near spotless place—their place. Their. Place. “Can y’go sit down for me, then?” He asked gently.

“I’m sorry?”

“Jus’...don’t want y’doing t’much. I wish I was paying attention more—I thought y’were...well I don’t know what I thought y’were doing. M’sorry. I’d like t’take it from here and do the rest of the cleaning so y’can lounge around.”

She swallowed and the uneasiness in her stomach transformed a bit into something less of feeling like she was about to get into trouble and more into a worry of not...being enough. “Oh, Harry. I don’t mind,” she whispered looking at her feet. “I...I’m really used to cleaning...I kind of like it and...I don’t know. I didn’t mean to bother you. I thought I was being pretty quiet, so I’m sorry if I woke you,” she spoke to his feet the whole time and she couldn’t shake the idea that he was mad. It made her so nervous that she had already ruined their first couple of weeks of living together.

He didn’t respond but he kept his eyes glued to her face—or where her face would be if she was looking up. “Kitten,” he said so quietly, almost sadly. “Can y’look at me please?” He asked. Tears were in her eyes, and it felt more like she was in trouble once more. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Harry looked as sad as he sounded. He reached out and grabbed her hand. “M’not mad at you, m’love,” he whispered.

Harry was crushed by the relief that exhaled from her body. “No?” She whispered.

He squeezed her hand. “Angel, why would I be mad?”

“Um...” she swallowed again and smirked but there was no humor. It was just sadness. “Uh...I don’t know,” again, no humor, but a laugh escaped her lips.

“Kitten,” he hummed gently. Tears started to overwhelm her vision and she swallowed nervously against the emotion. When she sniffled, Harry finally lost the stand he was taking. The one where he was going to make her say it, because he wanted her to, and he didn’t think it was right. He pulled her forward and pressed her against his chest, her head beneath his chin and he sighed softly. “Tell me, baby,” he said rubbing his hand up and down her back. He kissed the top of her head and hated the way her shoulders shook from the tears that fell from her eyes.

She hated that he was so handsome—especially almost entirely naked because there wasn’t even the layer of a thin t-shirt to hide the tears that she was shedding. “He was,” she sniffled like it hurt to say.

“I know,” he sighed. “But m’not him,” he reminded her. “I don’t want you t’do it all, kitten. I don’t expect you to,” he slid his hands to her face, and he crouched just a little as he peered down into her eyes. “I love you,” he promised. “You’ve done so much for so long... for so many people.” Biting her lip, she turned her head from him. He wasted not even a second tilting her chin back, so her eyes were back to him. “Y’don’t have t’do anything for me,” his voice was so gentle it hurt. It made her feel sick and undeserving.

“If I don’t...then...” she sighed and closed her eyes.

“Kitten, please look at me,” he begged so quietly, she hardly heard him, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Then...you’ll...not...want...me,” the pauses between each word hurt more than all of them said together. It meant she was thinking about every single syllable. Each word that was going to break her heart...and Harry’s.

It wasn’t the time to do it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Harry thought of the tulips. He thought of the times she thanked him for putting the laundry—the laundry that she washed and folded—away. The way she said “Really?” when he told her he loved her for the first time. There were all the times she never asked for anything from Harry but he could sense she wanted to but was...scared to do so. It made sense now. She was scared. For no reason. But still scared. Harry felt so angry toward every person that ever broke her heart and made her feel less than perfect. He hated when she hurt. “M’beautiful angel,” he sighed softly stroking his thumb over her face.

She sniveled and brought a hand to her face. “Harry,” she whimpered.

“I know, love,” he cooed softly and brought her back to his body. He let her cry for a few moments. He listened to the way she sounded like she was in pain as she let the tears fall freely and it made him so sad and upset, he could have cried himself. “Baby,” he hummed to the top of her head. “Y’don’t have t’do anything for me, m’love.” She nodded against him and he sighed. “Y’don’t, kitten. Y’really don’t need t’do anything,” he promised. He hoped if he repeated it enough she would believe him.

“But—”

“No,” he shook his head. He didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t final or demanding the way he spoke. It was just a simple no. There wasn’t anything else to be said. Harry let her tears subside before he settled her on the couch and finished her cleaning. For the first time since she moved in, she relaxed on a Saturday while someone else cleaned for her.

The love she felt for Harry was overwhelming.

*

They were lounging on the couch. The TV was on, but she was turned away from it, facing Harry’s chest. With one arm looped behind his head he could see the show and with his other hand he rubbed it up and down her back. It was so peaceful and gentle. It was everything he ever wanted in a relationship. It was everything he wanted with her. “Y’okay, love?” He hummed dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She nodded wordlessly and he smiled and continued watching his show.

“Wanna stay here forever,” she mumbled. He smirked, placing another kiss on the top of her head. He sensed there was more, but he hated pressuring her into saying more than she may have wanted to—after that first weekend she cried to him, he let her feel exactly what she wanted and how she wanted. Harry knew most of her thoughts. He of course wanted to know all of them, but he knew that she always told him anything she wanted to tell him.

“Is there more, kitten?” He asked quietly. She nodded. “Y’can tell me if y’want,” he reminded her gently.

“It’s stupid.”

He shook his head and glanced down at her perfect face and her fingers fidgeting with the cross and chain around his neck. “You’re anything but stupid, angel,” he felt her feet wiggle uncomfortably. He wanted to beg and pull the words from her lips, but he waited patiently.

“How do you know when I want to say more?” She asked instead.

“Because I adore you,” he responded instantly. She snorted a short laugh but didn’t seem to have an answer to that. “Jus’ know you so well, love. Been trying t’read your mind for the two and a half years...think m’getting pretty good at it. Now jus’ have t’make sense of what y’don’t say,” he smirked and kissed the top of her head.

“Are you frustrated that I don’t tell you things?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head.  “No, course not.”

She was silent. “I think about marrying you every day,” she whispered so quietly Harry almost missed her words.

“Oh?”

“I never thought about a wedding with anyone I’ve ever dated in the past. It seemed like so much work because I would do all the planning and the everything...” she explained. “Now...God...I just...I want to show you off to everyone I know and show how wonderful you are because I know you would make the wedding of my dreams come true...because you make all my dreams come true.”

Harry was so quiet thinking about how that may not have seemed like much but to her it was—it was letting herself be vulnerable about wanting to spend her life with Harry. Without knowing how he felt—which was silly since he wanted to spend every second with her in his arms, reading her mind, or listening to her every thought. He wanted to cheer her every win and console her every loss. She was all his and he adored her so completely. He tipped her chin back. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he promised. He saw the way her face seemed to sink with relief which broke his heart, but he couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked even when she did—it left him breathless, wordless, soundless. Harry was convinced that even if they did end their relationship (and he was certain that would never happen) he would thank her for the heartbreak. As he always did when she left him speechless, he kissed her so deeply he thought he might never breathe again.

But it would have been the best way to go.

[bethanydelleman]

Giggling at your and anon wishing instead for OPTIONS for Fanny. I was thinking it's odd that Ms. Austen decided that her crush on Edmund was reciprocated at the end when she could've been given justice of some sort with how she's been looked and talked over.

It feels like she's out of choices but then I suppose she is out of choices in the end. This is a woman who is shy in an era where you gotta put yourself out there to be seen by the society and she's not even on a level in a society for her to be out and noticed by the gentlemen even if she does, rank-wise

Which is why my friend and I (who has no talent whatsoever in writing) been talking about this writing idea; a boarding school AU where all the Austen ladies is in it,

Mind you we were just going by vibe and not accurate research, so we put Elinor Dashwood, and Maria Bertram, Mary Crawford and Lucy Steele, Caroline Bingley are in the same year, being the oldest

Eleanor Tilney, Jane Bennet, Emma, and Jane Fairfax are in the same year below the others already mentioned

Elizabeth and Marianne are in the year below them

Mary Bennet and Harriet

Catherine Morland and Lydia Bennet

(the ages are 13-18)

Anne Elliot is one of the matrons

This is kind of controversial, for me and I'm not really a fan of this concept myself tbh, but it'll be kind of a fanfictiony story like the Bridgerton with the society being a little more lenient (lol?); because it's a mixed boarding school

The plot is basically all the stuff in the Austen og universe but they're not all the same, the ages can be tweaked a bit lol, with some plot tangled with the other stories but they're leading to the same endings like, so.....

Catherine doesn't marry while studying, but she keeps talking about the Tilneys because she has a penpal whom she met in Bath before school started, she didn't realize that said penpal has a sister who studies in the same school

Catherine's really that student that just spent most of her time in the library, not studying per se, reading novels, she often has to be told to focus in class for daydreaming

and then one summer vacation spends the entire break at Northanger Abbey,

Later, after new semester starts, Lydia tells her sister in an offhand remark that Catherine seemed really down and her visit to Northanger seemed to be the reason.

Her studies decline even more when she was upset about the whole Gen Tilney situation and one evening she goes to their dorm matron to ask for advice; that's Anne, and there Catherine finds a crying Lucy Steele who had just been visited by Fanny Dashwood and basically well, verbally harassed by a visiting older sister of Edward Ferrars

My friend was adamant we either pair up Fanny Price with an oc (original character) or with~~ Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, in this AU of ours is an exchange student, same with Mr. Willoughby

Willoughby is an exchange student for a year who got attached to Marianne, and then gradually stops replying to her letters after he left their school. Colonel Brandon is one of the school beneficiaries

One of the classes go for a trip to Lyme with Captain Wentworth as one of the guides and that's where Louisa smacks her head and later fellow poetry club member Benwick falls for her (or not! I'm also not comfortable with this pairing tbh.Louisa had a one-sided crush on Capt Wentworth)

I'm sorry this is sooooo long. My friend and O kept going at it from the side of the female characters only tbh and we didn't quite know where to put Darcy and Bingley. Are they students? Or older students visiting from Oxford? Horse riding enthusiasts and club members, sharing a hobby with Elizabeth? We don't know 😂

Hope you like it! It's not going anywhere because we are both not writers, but it's a good giggling source! :D

You should write this! The only thing that makes a "writer" is writing. Go for it. It sounds fun!

[mastermindmiko]

Heart shaped eyes

pairing: Draco Malfoy + reader word count: 945 warnings: none, but let me know if you find any

a/n: Here's a little short story to get me going after the two month break. I hope you guys like it.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

“As much as I want him to, he doesn’t, Pansy.” I huff and I sit down on the bed to wear my high heels. She rolls her eyes, like she does everytime we talk about this subject. She retorts, “Why else would he ask you for the ball then?” 

“Because he had no one else to ask.” I shoot back, and she jumps up from her bed and sits down on the floor in front of me grabbing my arms, steadily, ignoring the way she’s wrinkling her own dress. She says, “Honey, your grades are amazing, so I don’t understand how you don’t get this. He likes you, he asked you to the ball because he likes you.” 

“Then why would he say that we’re going as just friends?” I add a piece of information that I should’ve told her about a long time ago. Her face twists into confusion, and she says, “Did he actually say that?” 

I think back to exactly what happened and I stutter, “I-I mean, he kind of sort of did?” 

“So, he didn’t actually say that?” 

“Well, Draco’s never been very forward about his feelings, but I could tell.” I say, folding my arms, slipping my hands away from her’s. She rolls her eyes once more, and replies, “That is true, but he’s also never been that good at hiding them.” 

I look away from her, not wanting to indulge in the thought that my long time crush of four years would like me back. Pansy starts, “The reason why I stopped liking him-” 

I always hated when she brought up her feelings for him. It was a rocky part of our friendship, both of us hoping he’d like one of us back. She continues, “Is because I wasn’t blind enough to not notice the way he simply adores you.”

Pansy wouldn’t lie to me, I know that, even when she kissed him one night about a year ago, she’d told me straight away, because no boy was worth it. I held back because she liked him, but now that she doesn’t, why am I still holding back?

“I don’t know…I’d hate to do something that would ruin our friendship.” I say, lowering my head to the floor. She nods her head and says, “Alright, that’s a valid concern, but just please open your eyes, tonight, and see what everyone’s been seeing for so long.” 

“Okay, I promise that if I see his heart shaped eyes, I will kiss him myself.” I giggle at the absurdity of my words, and Pansy smiles, but shakes her head disapprovingly. 

She puts on her own shoes, and says, “We should get going, the ball’s about to start.” 

We head down the stairs and Blaise notices Pansy first. He grins and rushes up the last few steps to catch her arm in his grasp. He kisses her and they rush into the great hall, excitedly. I didn't even notice that Draco’s been looking at me till I couldn’t see my friends anymore. 

His eyes are unblinking, but not in a creepy way. I start to feel self conscious as I stand in front of him, and he’s yet to say or do anything. I wave my hand over his face, and say, “Umm, Draco? Is there something wrong with the dress or something?” 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and he starts rambling. Calm,cool and collected Draco Malfoy starts rambling. He says, “I- no, it’s great, you’re great- I mean uhh, it’s my favourite colour and you’re uh, you’re um…gorgeous, not that you're only gorgeous because of the dress, you’re always gorgeous, beautiful even most of the time, I mean all the time. Even when you’re half asleep during the early classes-”

I really wanted to ignore what was happening, stay on the safe side, to keep our friendship intact, but I really wanted this, I really really wanted him. I couldn’t deny it anymore, Merlin knows how Pansy knew that tonight was the night, but with Draco’s flushed cheeks, and as cringy as it sounds, heart shaped eyes, I couldn’t help myself anymore. 

I cup his face in my hands, and I peck his lips. It’s soft, light, nearly nothing, but it cuts off his rambling and short circuits my heart. He blinks, once, twice, three times, and I start to regret my decision. It’s my turn to ramble, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you wouldn’t umm- I should’ve thought of better ways to shut you up like tell you, or slap you or something-” 

He takes a step towards me, effectively silencing me, and pulls me in closer by my waste. He leans down, he hesitates, he looks into my eyes, and I hope that they’re telling him to do it, and he does. He kisses me deeply, the entire opposite of the first kiss. It was strong, and sure. 

He parts from my lips when we aren’t able to breathe anymore. He smiles at me, and I giggle as I see the remains of my lipstick on his lips. I smile, “You’ve got, um-” 

He reaches out to where I’m pointing in confusion, and I stop his hands by holding them, and reaching out my thumb to wipe his lips. Once again, he’s staring at me with so much emotion that I try not to fumble under the attention. I say, “Lipstick.” 

“You shouldn’t have worn any because I think I’m going to spend the entire night with red lips.” He smiles, and kisses me again. When he leads me to the great hall, I’m the one with heart shaped eyes.

[lovesunshinefelix]

You're my lover

tags: Fluff 😃👍 , really soft Felix now I want one ☹️

Note: I wrote this one a reaaaally long time ago, and this was the time when I was randomly reading something in tumblr (which was heavily inspired from this and of course, the mother, TAYLOR SWIFT), and I suddenly just 👯‍♀️ I feel bad since I haven't updated after I was telling myself to do so I'll just... put this out here

It had been such a busy week for you; studying for your finals, finishing the last bit of requirements for your classes, and trying to keep up with your part-time job. You were tired. Heck, all you really wanted was to lay in bed and nuzzle in the arms of your boyfriend, who was kind enough to come over and help you around the house for the time being, but you were trying your best to finish your final requirements before your term break so you can finally spend some time with him. You finally submitted your work and stretched happily, clapping them in the process. Since it has been hours of sitting down in front of your desk in your room, you decided to finally get out of your room and look at what your boyfriend is up to.

Contrast to your room, the rest of your house is fairly dim, the light in the kitchen suggesting that your boyfriend has occupied the room. You can hear the faint music playing there. Smiling to yourself, you went your way over to the kitchen, seeing the beautiful back of your boyfriend working on something he randomly decided on. When you were about to be close, he suddenly dropped the plastic bowl he was working on, flour and all sorts flying all over his body. You rushed to his side, stifling some laughter. "What the hell happened?" you said, getting the bowl from the floor. The boy just sighed, trying to scoop some of the products on the bowl. "I wanted to make you some brownies. I already ordered dinner hours ago because I got bored and I wanted you to have a small treat for yourself." he said. You just smiled and chuckled, rubbing off some of the flour from his face "You didn't have to. It's literally your day off." you said, "We can just do them another day." he pouted in response, "But you always tell me how much you've been dying to eat them again! I wanted to surprise you." he whispered the final part. You just chuckled "I'll be fine. There's still tomorrow." I said. "I finally finished everything. I have the rest of the night and the whole day with you tomorrow." you smiled. His eyes beamed at the thought, and he just nodded at you. "Okay, let's just have dinner."

You both had a pleasant dinner, trying to catch up on what you both missed on each other while softly listening to the music in the background. As if on sudden cue, when Felix was done with the dishes (which he insisted on doing), Taylor Swift's Lover started playing. He smiled at you, while wiping his hand on your rug. "Wow, you listen to Taylor." you chuckled, walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck. He giggled at you, "What? Olivia recommended it and it was nice." he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. You hummed, "Yeah, it is." You nuzzled your head on his neck. You both swayed to the rhythm, just enjoying each other's company. "You know," you said, looking up at him. "I've always wanted to dance to this song." you confessed. He just chuckled at your confession. He pecked your temple softly, "What do you think we're doing now?" he said, taking one of your hands and positioning yourselves like how people waltzing would. You just smiled happily at him and began dancing around your kitchen.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

Felix spun you around and pulled you to his arms, laughing at how silly and random it was for you both to just suddenly dance in your kitchen. You just laughed along at him. He nuzzled his nose against yours, his breathing tickling your lips. You just giggled at him, feeling so much love for him. He then finally leaned in and gave you a kiss. One with so much love.

[adrealucia]

hii ! ive been obsessing over sean diaz for years and you might have a lot of requests from me soooo, I was wondering if you could do sean diaz (pre-accident) hard on crushing on reader who's like the popular kid who usually doesnt really notice him until he gets their number and turns out reader is actually funny and pretty nice despite popular beliefs :))

ah i have been dying to write this request ever since i got it, this idea is just really cute and i could totally see this being canon !!! I hope you like it

Popular Misconceptions

Sean Diaz glanced across the cafeteria, his eyes locking onto the table where you sat, surrounded by a group of friends. You, the popular girl, laughed and chatted animatedly, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone around you. Sean couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with curiosity. He had always admired you from afar, never quite daring to believe he could be part of your world.

"Hey, Sean, you zoning out again?" Lyla's voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned back to his best friend.

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Just thinking."

Lyla followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about her, huh?"

Sean blushed, looking down at his tray. "I mean, she's... interesting."

"Interesting, huh?" Lyla smirked. "Well, why don't you go talk to her? She's not as unapproachable as you think."

Sean shook his head. "Yeah, right. Like she'd even notice me."

"Hey, you'd be surprised. She's in your art class, right? You've got a reason to talk to her."

Sean sighed. "Maybe."

Later that day, Sean found himself in the art room, his sanctuary. He was sketching absentmindedly, lost in the details of his drawing, when he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, he was surprised to see you standing there, a friendly smile on your face.

"Hey, Sean, right?" you asked, your voice breaking the quiet hum of the room.

Sean's heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

You held out your phone. "I was wondering if you could help me with this art project. I heard you're really good."

"Sure," Sean replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "What do you need?"

You sat down next to him, placing your sketchbook on the table. "I need some advice on shading. I can never get it to look right."

Sean glanced at your work and immediately saw the potential. "You're actually really good. Just need a few tweaks here and there."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you."

As you both worked on your projects, Sean found himself relaxing. You were genuinely nice, and as you started talking more, he discovered you had a great sense of humor. You cracked jokes and shared stories, making him laugh more than he had in a long time.

"Did you hear about Mr. Johnson's car getting covered in post-it notes?" you asked, giggling.

Sean chuckled. "Yeah, I saw it. Who even has the patience for that?"

You shrugged, grinning. "Probably someone with a lot of time and a lot of post-it notes."

Sean found himself enjoying your company more than he expected. Over the next few weeks, you and Sean grew closer. You'd text each other about everything and nothing, your conversations filled with banter and mutual interests. Sean realized how wrong he'd been about you. Despite your popularity, you were down-to-earth and kind, breaking every stereotype he'd had.

One afternoon, you both sat under a tree in the school courtyard, enjoying the rare sunny day. You were telling a particularly funny story about a recent party, and Sean couldn't stop laughing.

"See? You're not just some quiet artist," you teased, nudging him playfully. "You're actually fun to be around."

Sean's cheeks flushed. "Thanks. You're pretty cool too. I never thought I'd get to know the real you."

You leaned back against the tree, looking thoughtful. "You know, people always assume things about me because I'm 'popular.' But I get tired of all the pretending sometimes. With you, I can just be myself."

Sean's heart swelled at your words. "I'm glad. I like getting to know the real you."

You smiled, a genuine warmth in your eyes. "Well, I'm glad you did. And for the record, I've always noticed you. It just took a while for our paths to cross."

Sean looked at you, surprised. "Really? I thought you were too busy with your friends and... well, everything."

You laughed softly. "Appearances can be deceiving. I've seen your art in the hallways. You're really talented. And you've always seemed like a nice guy."

Sean's heart swelled with happiness. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"Hey, anytime," you said, nudging him gently. "So, you want to hang out more? Outside of art projects, I mean."

Sean's eyes lit up. "I'd like that. A lot."

As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the courtyard, Sean realized that maybe, just maybe, this crush wasn't so impossible after all.

[muichirosamaaa]

Crush

Modern AU Shinobu Kocho x fem reader with elements from Komi Can't Communicate.

Where reader has had a long-term crush on Shinobu but has never been brave enough to talk to her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You looked away quickly as Shinobu's eyes met yours, pretending to focus on your textbook and the teacher's droning. Her gaze burned holes into you, but you refused to look up. It would be the same as admitting that you had been staring at her for the past hour.

You sort of maybe had a gigantic crush on Shinobu Kocho, the class president and the girl sitting a few rows in front of you.

---

"Staring at Kocho-san again?" Mitsuri giggled.

"N-no! Of course not! I'm over her!" you babbled, tearing your gaze away from the purple-haired girl. Mitsuri looked unconvinced, as Nezuko gave you a questioning look.

"I'm serious!" you insisted.

"Well then I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you that she's staring at you too."

You whipped your head around to notice Shinobu turning away. Nezuko let out an impatient snort as you turned red to the tips of your ears. She nudged you and pointed in Shinobu's direction.

"No. I'm not going," you stated firmly.

"Mmph!" Nezuko huffed, still pointing.

"Y/N, you've never even talked to her! If you did, you'd realize that she likes you back!" Mitsuri sighed.

"I don't want to embarrass myself."

"Don't come crying if she's taken, then."

---

You were determined to keep your crush a secret to the grave. Shinobu would never agree to go out with you anyway.

For now, you were content with quick glances at your crush.

---

"Ugh...we're finally done..." your exhausted classmates groaned, lying on the floor in irregular positions. It was the night before the culture festival.

"Good work," Shinobu said, handing out drinks to everyone. Your fingers grazed hers briefly as she handed you your drink. You flushed at the contact, muttering a quiet 'thank you'.

Her lips curved upwards into a warm smile as she patted your head and winked.

Shinobu left, leaving you stunned and blushing. Was that some kind of hallucination?! Did she just wink and pat your head?!?!

---

The classroom was bustling with activity as the culture festival commenced.

"Y/N san, I'm looking for Tengen. Can you join me?" Shinobu asked.

"Huh? Uh..."

"She'd be happy to help!" Mitsuri interjected, shoving you towards the girl and forgetting to control her strength. You swerved just in time to avoid faceplanting into Shinobu's chest.

"Great! Let's go!" Shinobu chirped, grabbing your arm.

You averted your eyes as she half-dragged you past classrooms.

"We haven't talked much, have we?" Shinobu suddenly asked.

"Yep," you answered, looking around to avoid staring at her.

"Thank you for your hard work preparing for the festival."

"It's no problem. Everyone worked together," you replied slightly sheepishly.

"Oh! A haunted house! Let's check it out!" Shinobu squealed, pulling you in the direction of a dark classroom.

"Huh? Aren't we supposed to be looking for-AHHHHHH!" you screamed, clinging onto Shinobu's arm as a gelatin brick hit the side of your head. You immediately let go, apologizing profusely.

"Sorry, I'm just a little jumpy."

"BOO!" a pale ghost sprang out from behind a rock and howled.

"AHHHHHHH!" you shrieked again. Shinobu giggled.

" 'A little jumpy', Y/N san?" she teased, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Still recovering from the shock, you pressed a hand to your chest, breathing heavily.

"Just a little!"

"Ara~ So cute."

Your heart sped up again, and not because of fear.

---

"Shinobu stopped abruptly in front of a stall selling cute animal headbands.

"Buying something?"

"You'll see."

She picked up a headband with rabbit ears and put in on you. Staring at you, Shinobu seemed to like the look and handed a bit of money to the clerk.

"Here," you took off the headband and handed it to Shinobu.

"It's for you. You look even more adorable with it," she remarked, grinning. A gift from your crush...you felt as if you would die from the sheer happiness you were feeling.

"Thank you...are you sure you don't want me to pay you back?"

"Take it as a thank-you gift for helping me look for Tengen." Shinobu pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

---

"Oooh! They're doing confessions on the roof!" Shinobu immediately dragged you up.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE!" she yelled into the crowd.

Your heart sank.

Thoughts like 'I didn't make a move anyway' and 'I'll get over her' ran through your head as you bit your lip. Part of you wanted to cry, and part of you was curious about who Shinobu's crush could possibly be.

"I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHO IT IS!" she shouted, much to the disappointment and laughs of the crowd.

---

"Y/n san...Y/N san!" Shinobu called as she waved a hand in front of your face.

"...oh! Sorry, I was...um, thinking about something."

"What's making you so dazed?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really...so, um, you said you had a crush?"

A light pink blush dusted Shinobu's cheeks.

"I'm just curious! It's okay if you don't want to answer..."

Shinobu sighed. You were caught slightly off-guard by her unexpected reaction.

"Y/N san, why are you so clueless?"

You just stared at her, bewildered. Was it someone obvious? Someone Shinobu hung around with a lot?

"Um...is it Tomioka-san?"

Shinobu rolled her eyes, making you even more confused.

---

Back in the classroom, you filled your friends in on your conversation with Shinobu.

"She's right, Y/N. You're so oblivious."

"What, how? Who could her crush possibly be?" you questioned, perplexed.

Nezuko snorted and glared at you.

"Well, if you guys know, spill it!"

"It's you, Y/N!"

You stared blankly as their words sank in.

"..."

"ME?!"