#do you think they like train/work out together

[xo-adeline]

"To change for you..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Things the Blue Lock boys do after picking it up from you Feat. Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Shidou Ryusei, and Rin Itoshi

AN: I have the freaking cutest idea for a Wakasuki fanfic but nobody knows him and it's so sad...

Michael Kaiser ⋆°• ☁︎ - Listening to certain songs that he knows you like when he’s traveling

He never realized that he would have missed you this much when he was traveling. For the few months that he was still back in Germany with you, the thoughts of traveling had crossed his mind many times, and with a scoff and the thoughts that he used to do it alone all the time pushed the ideas to the back of his brain, well until now; Now when he was sitting on the Bastard München bus on the way to the PXG stadium for their next match, the long, almost 14-hour, bus ride they had, and every second since he had been on that bus, he missed you. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody, including you. So what better way than to either A. attempt to text you, But that sounded desperate, or B. do something that reminded him of you. And with his limited options, he scrolled his phone to find something that could bring him back to the thought of you, even if you weren’t there with him. To which that’s when he found it. A couple of weeks ago you had stolen his phone, saying that you were just looking at the weather, but rather, you knew he had a Spotify account and only listened to the songs he wanted to, so you put together a playlist for him of some songs you think he should listen to, including some of your favorites. He couldn’t help but give a little smile when he saw the playlist cover being a picture of the two of you at one of his previous games, and within no time he pressed the play button and started to listen through the songs, thoughts of you running through his head matching up with every song lyric.

Isagi Yoichi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Using more creative insults on the field after you used them against him

It all started a couple weeks after you had started dating and you got into a little spat about where to go for dinner, him trying to be nice and let you decide and you being indecisive and pushing it back on him. All going relatively nicely until you turned around and said:

“You decide, you wet noodle! I can’t pick.”

And he stood there for a second, a little surprised. A wet noodle? That wasn’t something you heard every day. So he let out a slight chuckled and picked a place he knew you would like and the two of you went there for dinner that night. The same thing with a couple other insults had happened a few times, being called a multitude of other things, and even hearing you’d snide comments sometimes about how you hoped that a person that cut you off in traffic ‘stepped into a puddle with only socks on.’

Now with these thoughts inside his head, and Barou running his mouth he could only turn towards him and give a dirty glare before pulling this out of his pocket:

“I hope you’re sleeves slide down while you’re washing your hands.”

Before turning back around and heading anywhere else in the building where he wasn’t. To which the rest of the people standing there could only look surprised, the same guy who called Barou much worse, just wished a minor inconvenience on him? What was happening?

Nagi Seishiro ⋆°• ☁︎ - Showing a little more effort rather than just in scoring goals

Reo could only look confused at the white-haired man as he was actually trying on some of the new training regiments given to them by Chris Prince. Even when he looked over to the coach, he looked a little shocked. It wasn’t that Nagi didn’t try, it’s that he had never tried this hard before. He did everything just enough for it to be acceptable and then move on with his life, well that was until he saw how hard you worked for things. He never understood why people worked hard until you had come home with a good grade on your test, the same test he had watched you work for hours and hours trying to study the material and cram into your head before you had to take it. The way that you smiled and were so excited that the work you did paid off gave him this spark of inspiration that he needed to see what it was like to train hard and then have that achievement pay off in the end. So when he went back to practice, he tried harder than he ever did before, even earning a couple comments asking if he was okay, or if he was dying and trying a little harder was his dying wish. All of which he responded a simple ‘no’ to before walking off to get water or work on something else. The only person who could actually figure out the truth was Reo, who had asked him if it had something to do with you. He just shrugged and nodded.

“They came home all happy one time because they studied hard and got a good grade and I wanted to know what that felt like… They clung onto me for a whole 15 minutes after… and I liked it so maybe If I do good I can do that to them..”

Reo could only laugh a little as he watched Nagi walk away. He would definitely have to send you a thank you card, Chris Prince’s signature in there as well as he had tried to ask Nagi the same question and it totally backfired.

Shidou Ryusei ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to settle arguments with words instead of his foot

The famous fighter, Shidou Ryusei, was actually trying to have a conversation. Nobody ever thought there would be a day. Well, except for one person, you. The same person who had told him off a multitude of times that he can’t just hurt people whenever he was pissed off at them, and there were much better ways to go about it. Even after days of him trying to get you to see his side of it, and you already, after hearing his explanation a few weeks ago, deeming it not the best way to settle things. So here he was now, putting his ego aside to make sure that Loki or Ego didn’t have to call you for the 4th time this week to try to get him to behave and attempt to try to not kick Rin square in the face after he stole a goal from him. Even Loki was surprised when Shidou was about to raise his foot, just to stop himself, mutter something, and then turn to Rin, attempting to try and talk it out. The first thought in everybody's mind, was this even Shidou? After Rin had walked away from him Loki came jogging over to him and trying to make sure he was okay.

“Ya’ I’m fine, jus’ the pretty thing back home ya’ always have to call told me to get my shit together, so I’m tryin’ talk it out with lower lashes.”

Loki looked surprised, I mean he knew from talking to you before that you were close with Shidou, but little did he know that you basically had the man wrapped around you’re finger. They’ve been trying to get him to talk something out for the entire time he was in Blue Lock, but he leaves for a few days and comes back a whole new person? The staff would be sending you thank you cards, as well as a small gift instead of having to pay the hospital bills from anybody else Shidou would’ve sent.

Rin Itoshi ⋆°• ☁︎ - Trying to be a little nicer to others

The world must have stopped turning and we were all gonna die. That was the only thing Isagi could think after he heard Rin actually complimenting somebody. Was it a backhanded compliment? Absolutely, but did he still say something nice to Nanase, yes. Isagi could only stare in shock as he walked over to him next, ready to be degraded or ignored for anything he did, until Rin stopped, cursing under his breath.

“You’re a shitty person, but at least you can score a decent goal..”

The world stopped, he was sure of it. There was no way the Rin Itoshi, had just come up to him and told him he could score a decent goal. So when he stood there a little confused Rin couldn’t help but curse a little more.

“This isn’t because I like you. It’s because I like my partner. Got it?”

And with that he headed off again, going who knows where.

Thought he didn’t learn the fully story until much later on when Shidou had been talking about it Charles and he had overheard. Apparently, Rin’s partner had been pretty upset when they realized that he was pretty mean overall, and wanted him to at least attempt being nicer, so the next time he saw somebody he knew he at least tried to give them a compliment, just attempting to make his partner a little less upset with him.

Isagi knew that it was just a little thing, but lord, he was sure that if Rin would go around complimenting other people, if you asked for the world to burn, he would set it on fire just so you wouldn’t be upset.

[eiralunaire]

Headcanos of Damian Wayne.

1. Small Gestures of Tenderness.

Although Damian would never admit it out loud, he always feels inexplicably more relaxed when he's around his girlfriend. He often watches her in silence, observing the small details, like the way she laughs, her expression when she's focused, or how she always has something to say, even when she doesn't feel like talking. There's something about those moments that makes him feel, for the first time in his life, that war and fighting aren't everything.

2. Defender of Her Well-Being.

Damian, who has been trained to be cold and calculating, can't help but become extremely protective when it comes to her. If someone looks at her wrong, even in jest, he'll step in without thinking, making it clear with his gaze (and sometimes his threat of "don't do it again") that no one can hurt her. He's convinced that it's his responsibility to take care of her, but it's more of an internal desire to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her.

3. The Typical Sarcastic and Jealous Behavior.

When it comes to other men, Damian is relentless. Although he would never express it in an obvious way, he feels extremely uncomfortable if any kind of unwanted attention is directed towards his girlfriend. It is common for his sarcastic tone to appear when some guy talks too close to her. "Really? Do you think she wants to hear that?" he would say, with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips, as he takes a step forward.

4. Thoughtful (albeit weird) Gifts.

He is not the type of boyfriend to buy expensive jewelry or flowers (because he doesn't know how those things work), but what he does do is remember the little details about what his girlfriend likes. One day, unbeknownst to her, Damian shows up with a rare book she mentioned in a casual conversation, or with that chocolate she is known to like a lot. The truth is, he's become an expert at listening to her, not just because of his tactical intelligence, but because he genuinely wants to please her, even if his way of showing it is... unconventional.

5. Intimate Moments of Vulnerability.

When Damian is with his girlfriend, his guard is down in ways that only happen with her. It can be something as simple as watching a movie together, or lying next to her after a long day of training, but in those moments, he doesn't have to live up to his last name or his lineage. It's just him, Damian Wayne, simply enjoying her company. It's a luxury he doesn't usually get with anyone else, but with her, it's something that constantly draws him in and comforts him.

6. Interactions with His Family.

Despite his reserved attitude, Damian has found himself talking more to his family about his girlfriend, albeit in a slightly brusque manner. With Bruce, for example, his attitude towards her is a kind of possessiveness that makes it clear that he wants her in his life, but he also knows that his father will never really understand what he feels. With Alfred, however, he seems more relaxed, because he knows that the butler sees what he sometimes can't recognize: how happy their relationship makes him.

7. Subtle but Efficient Jealousy.

Damian can't help but show jealousy, although he does it in a subtle and almost childish way. For example, if his girlfriend talks a lot with another guy (even if he's a close friend), he may make comments like: "Since when are you so interested in what he has to say?" or suddenly offer to take her back to her apartment, as if there was some "urgent" business to attend to, to prevent her from staying too long with that person. It's his way of saying "I want you all to myself" without having to say it directly.

8. He Likes Deep Conversations.

Damian isn’t a man of many words, but when he’s with his girlfriend, he finds it easy to open up and share things he never thought he’d say. He likes to talk to her about topics that have nothing to do with war or fighting, like his views on the future or what he thinks about life. Sometimes, he catches himself talking more than he planned, but he doesn’t mind, because he knows he can be vulnerable with her, something he’s learned to deeply appreciate.

9. The Vulnerability of Being “The Man”.

When he’s with her, Damian feels weird about not being able to show off everything he knows how to do. I mean, with his combat skills and tactical intelligence, he could defend her from anything, but what really attracts him to her is how she calms him down and makes him feel more human. In her mind, that makes him more than just Bruce Wayne’s son or trained assassin. He makes her feel a little more normal, like any other guy in love, and that thought baffles him, but he loves it at the same time.

10. Sudden Moments of Insecurity.

Despite all his training and his confident facade, Damian sometimes feels insecure in their relationship. There are times when he doubts himself: Is he really up to par with her? Will he be enough for someone like her, who has so much to offer? Although he would never admit it, he has those moments of uncertainty that make him more human. However, as time goes on, he realizes that all he really needs to do is be himself, and sometimes, even a more vulnerable and caring Damian can be what attracts her the most.

11. The Unspoken "I Protect You".

Although he never says it outright, Damian is obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her. If she is ever sad, he turns into a wall of ice, willing to face anything to make her feel safe. This leads to more possessive behavior, but he doesn't see it that way. It's his way of showing her that even though he's not the traditional boyfriend type, he'll always be there for her, even if that means walking away from conflict and just offering his company.

[starkeynation]

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[touyaismycomfortboy]

♡ mr. aizawa's wife....

a/n: i'll probably most definitely write about husband aizawa with a wife who has a quirk, but for now here are some quirkless wife hcs <3 this is lowkey all over the place, all I've been thinking about is husband aizawa and what that would be like so i need to dump out all my thoughts and then I'll write smth more organized eventually

word count: 0.7k

synopsis: what it would be like to be aizawa's wife <3

pairing: shouta aizawa x fem!quirkless!reader

genre: headcanons? dump? i honestly dont know!! i'm just writing stuff fr <33

you're not a pro-hero so you don't work at UA, but you're still there all the time. the heroes truly love you, you oftentimes get bored after your own job and bring the faculty fresh baked goods, typically leaving a big tray in the teachers' lounge but delivering aizawa's to him since he's always so busy with class.

the first time you met his new first years they were doing some training outside, you had just come by the school with a tray of peanut butter chocolate cookies and were about to deliver some to aizawa and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before heading home.

when the girls of the class saw you walk up to aizawa out of the corner of their eyes and give him a kiss they gasped and stopped whatever they were doing.

aizawa panicked when he realized they saw and told them to get back to training, but they were already immediately approaching you and showering you with questions.

"oh my god mister aizawa has a wife?!" "how long have you two been together?!" "how did you guys meet?!" "what is aizawa like at home?"

you would laugh nervously and brush off their questions, whispering something to them about how aizawa is secretly a snuggle bug or something of that nature and usher them back to training, watching as they giggle and whisper to each other as they walk back, looking at aizawa and giggling some more.

aizawa isn't sure what you told them, but he'll "glare" at you for a moment with no real anger behind his stare, then mumble a quick "love you" before returning to work.

if you get off of work before him, he loves coming home and crawling into your arms, collapsing on top of you if you're lying on the couch.

he feels like a classy man when he wants to be. he'll be the kind of man to tell you to be ready at 7pm and to wear a nice outfit, and tell you he got you both a reservation at a restaurant.

he'll never tell you where it'll be, but he'll make sure to vet the menu beforehand just to make sure it has food you like so you never have to pretend to like something around him.

it will never be an insanely popular place with a bunch of people, but it'll always be nice. he doesn't like loud, crowded restaurants that are so loud he can barely taste the food in front of him, he loves quiet and intimate spaces with you.

if you ever volunteer to chaperone at a UA camp or dance or any other event, he always secretly loves watching you work with his students. he loves the chemistry you build with each of them and the effort you put into building friendships with them.

izuku loves to talk to you, he's always running up to you with his notebook asking questions about what the personal life of a pro hero is like and seeing if you have any anecdotes or fun facts about his quirk.

you're also one of the people all might lets see his true form before it's revealed to the public. you're always worrying over him, and he always brushes it off and tells you that he's okay, but you still check on him every time you visit UA.

as seen with how he acts around his students when something traumatic happens to them, he's very good at talking you through whenever you're sad. he's not a man of many words, but the words he does say leave an impact, and he always knows what to say.

he's not much for PDA, most people don't even know he has a wife until you just show up since he's so private, he prefers his intimate affairs stay intimate, he doesn't like everyone in his business or knowing how he acts around his wife.

nothing makes him feel guiltier than all the times you're awake for days on end next to his hospital bed after protecting his students from a dangerous situation. you understand why he does it, how important his students are to him, but still... seeing how destroyed his body gets after a villain encounter always makes you sick to your stomach, and you never feel quite at ease when he's working.

you both love taking naps together, if naps could be a love language that would be your guys'. you're always snuggling when alone and one thing will lead to another and you both end up snoozing on the couch for 30 minutes or so, something about being in each other's presence is so relaxing.

[katsu28]

connection

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: when a holiday gala that neither you nor max want to be at brings two people from vastly different worlds together, you find out that you might have more in common with the four time world champion than you think you do. (3.6k)

warnings: swearing, creepy men (not max don’t worry)

a/n: day three with max :) somewhere along the way this became less of a holiday fic and more of me projecting onto my characters but fuck it we ball! 

You don’t want to be here. 

Truthfully, toting around trays of champagne flutes and painfully tiny hors d'oeuvres to fancy rich people is the last place you want to be on a Saturday night, but your friend had roped you into working this event with her and you need the extra money a holiday event pays, so here you are. 

You’re not even sure what exactly it is either. All you know is that it’s some gala for folks in a totally different tax bracket than you, and you need to be on your best behavior—which, you’ll admit, isn’t your strong suit.

Your loved ones would say your headstrong, take-no-shit personality is one of your admirable qualities, but you know they only say that because they know the real you. 

These people don’t. They don’t need to. All they need from you is whatever you’ve got on the silver platter you’re holding. 

You glide through the crowd like a woman on a mission, turning up the charm to an eleven to get rid of these beef tartare crostinis as fast as you can. 

It’s part of the job description, but apparently some of these old men think you’re throwing yourself at them. The amount of ass patting bordering on groping, and sleazy comments about how you’re young enough to be their daughters you’ve had to endure in the last few hours is astonishing, and not in a good way. 

What you want to do is slam them upside the head with your tray, but you can’t. So you grin and bear it, redirecting their leering as best you can without causing a scene. What a way to start the festive season…not. 

Soon enough you’re out of food and you’re glad for it, because it grants you even just a little reprieve when you return to the kitchen. 

“I swear to god, I’m gonna punch one of those old fucks,” You fume, having just pushed through the adjoining door leading from the ballroom. 

Your friend offers an amused snort from where she’s waiting on a refill of stuffed figs. “Yeah, don’t do that, probably.” 

“They’re disgusting.” 

“They’re entitled.” 

“Okay, so they’re disgusting and entitled. God, the nerve!” 

“Y’know what, maybe you should take your break now? Cool off a little bit before you rip someone's throat out and get us both fired?” She tips her chin towards your hands, and when you look down, your fists are clenched. You’ve got them clenched so tight your nails are starting to dig crescent shaped divots in your palm. Any tighter and you’re sure to draw blood. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s—I’m gonna go,” You mutter. You can’t afford to be dismissed from the event and lose out on the payday. The best thing to do is find somewhere quiet, somewhere you can be alone and settle your temper. 

-------

Max doesn’t want to be here. 

Truthfully, milling around shaking hands and making small talk with these people is the last thing he wants to be doing on a Saturday night, but he has obligations to fulfill, appearances he needs to make to cast Red Bull in an admirable light in this season of giving, so here he is. 

His suit is expensive but itchy, the starched collar of his crisp button up pulled too tight around his neck. What he wants to do is rip it off and go home to his cats, but he can’t.

So he grins and bears it, summoning all his years of PR training to get through the next few hours as best he can. 

“Max, there you are!” His press officer materializes right next to him, clamping a hand down on his arm. He bristles a bit at the sudden touch, but it soon dissipates as he realizes it just means he has yet another hand to shake and conversation to make. “There’s some people you should meet with. They’re from one of our smaller sponsors, but important nonetheless. Think you should have a conversation, find some common ground.” 

“Do I have to?” The question is a moot point, but Max feels the need to ask anyway. Just in case the answer has changed since the last time he asked. When all they do is fix him to the spot with a deadpan look, he sighs. “Yeah, heard. Lead the way.” 

Small talk comes easily to him at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t mind numbingly boring listening to the two middle aged men go on and on about something Max couldn’t care less about. 

To the untrained eye, it would appear that he’s listening intently, feeding into their words with every carefully timed nod of the head. A chuckle here, a smile there. All the while, he’s itching to get away. The itch grows and grows and grows until Max can’t take it anymore.

He has to go somewhere. Anywhere other than here. 

Before he can second guess his gut feeling, he excuses himself quickly and expertly, making his way carefully through the crowd and towards the nearest exit. Another glass of champagne couldn’t hurt, so he snags one off a tray on his way out, sipping on it leisurely as he searches for a place to be alone. 

That’s how he finds himself outside in this open area looking over the water, somewhere completely empty and quiet, save for the slight breeze sending tiny waves splashing against the rocks below. 

Max sheds his jacket, undoes the first few buttons of his pressed shirt so he doesn’t feel like he’s being choked anymore. His chin tips towards the sky, eyes scanning the sky above. 

The moon is out in full swing tonight, hanging big and bright in the sky, illuminating the beautiful architecture around him. Max has always liked the moon. It represents success and fulfillment and power, but also has an element of mystery to it. He thinks that, in a way, the moon is kind of like him. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays here, just knows that he doesn’t want to go back inside. Finds himself dreading it, actually. Knows that inevitably he’ll have to make his return, but he’ll delay it as long as he can before someone comes looking for him.  

The sound of a heavy door creaking open draws his attention a little while later, and it makes him sigh. Looks like his time hiding out here is over. He pushes off the pillar he’s leaning on, ready to spin some half assed excuse, but then he hears it.

“Fuck!” You bite out, letting the door slam behind you. The empty area provides an echo to your dramatics. 

Max peers wide eyed around at the sudden expletive, spotting you across the way. So…definitely not his press officer. You’re already pacing back and forth, hands on your hips as you shake your head. 

He should say something, right? Announce his presence? 

He’s about to, but then you start muttering to yourself, something about old rich men thinking they can do whatever they want just because they have money. Colored by a plethora of choice swear words, you look and sound entirely pissed off. 

Probably best to leave you alone for the time being. He doesn’t know you, but he knows anger, and yours has a fire that almost rivals his. You’re also very pretty, but he pushes that thought aside for the time being. 

For the first time tonight, Max’s interest is piqued. Even so, he feels like he’s encroaching on something too personal, too private for anyone else’s ears. 

Maybe he can sneak away undetected? 

He doesn’t remember the champagne glass he’d set down until his foot hits it, and then it’s too late. Thankfully it doesn’t shatter, but the clinking against the cobblestones as it rolls away gives him up automatically. Your head snaps towards his general vicinity, eyes going wide with fear. 

Max imagines it’s probably scary for you to think you’re alone and realize that you’re not, and he’s not a monster. He has no choice but to step out from the shadows, raising a hand in awkward greeting. “...Hi.” 

“Jesus. Shit. Uh, I didn’t know anyone was out here,” You breathe, already slipping back into that carefully practiced professionality. Embarrassment and a little bit of shame runs through you at the same time as realization blooms of who this man is. Everyone knows Max Verstappen is, and you just cussed out his colleagues big time. Oh, you’re so getting fired. “Sorry you had to see that, Mr. Verstappen.” 

Max waves a hand in the air with a shake of his head. “Please, we don’t have to do that. Call me Max.”

It feels a little wrong to do so, but you oblige. “Right. Well, sorry you had to witness that, Max.” 

“Oh, that was nothing. Plus, god knows I’ve done worse.” Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better. Max steps out a little further into the light, stooping down to grab the rolling glass before it gets too far. “Is everything alright? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Does it look like everything is alright?” You shoot back, throwing your hands up into the air. Then you remember just who the fuck you’re talking to and you freeze. “Sorry! I am so sorry, I—” You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. Max isn’t who you’re mad at. This has nothing to do with him at all. “You didn’t do anything, I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you. I apologize. Again.” 

Max feels his lips quirk into a smile. He doesn’t remember the last time someone had spoken back at him like that. It’s actually quite refreshing. “No need. Probably very warranted too. I’ve been told I’m quite a good listener, if you need to let things out.” 

“I shouldn’t,” You sigh, pressing your lips together. Max raises a questioning brow. “It would be extremely unprofessional.” 

“You’ve just caught me out here hiding from doing my job. I think we’re past professionalism at this point,” He snorts. He takes a seat on one end of the concrete bench nearest, tipping his head towards the empty space next to him. “The floor is yours.” 

You explain your situation as best you can without getting too heated again, half expecting Max to grow defensive of his acquaintances—they always do. 

It’s a pleasant surprise when he does nothing of the sort. Instead he calls them all assholes, along with some other choice words you won’t dare repeat. He apologizes for them, says he’ll do his best to remedy the situation, but you’re sure all it’ll do is make things worse if he gets involved. 

“So…that’s why I’m out here. What’s your excuse?” You finish, letting your shoulders drop. It feels nice to get all of that off your chest for once, and to someone who actually gives a shit. 

Max sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. It probably makes it stick up at all odd angles, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I don’t really like these things. Talking to people, making small talk—between you and me, it’s the worst part of the job. Not my thing.” 

“You like to do your talking on the track,” You supply. 

Max lets out a sharp exhale, leaning back against his palms to regard you with careful amusement. “You watch?” 

“No, but I think I’d have to be living under a rock not to know a little bit about it. About you.” 

“And…what do you think you know about me?” He tilts his chin up almost in challenge, as if he’s daring you to analyze him. 

Challenge accepted. 

“I think you’re lonely.” 

A surprised laugh escapes from his mouth. He certainly wasn't expecting it, but quite enjoys your forwardness. “Well, that was unexpected. Why do you think that?” 

“You’re untouchable. A four time champion, I’ve heard.” 

“World champion,” Max corrects, but not obnoxiously. It seems like a habit to add that distinction, years and years of hard work and dedication and training for the recognition. 

“World champion, my bad.” You nod. “Congrats on that, by the way.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Like I said, untouchable. You’re the best of the best, and I’d assume even though it’s nice to be regarded as so, it’s hard for you to know when people actually want to know you, or if they just want something from you. Hence…why you’re out here.” 

“Whoa. Didn’t know this was going to turn into a therapy session.” 

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“No. You’re right on the nose, actually.” He shouldn’t be admitting this. He’s supposed to maintain the image that he has going for him, but something about you makes him feel like he can trust you with his true self. 

You’ve drifted closer together without realizing throughout your conversation, shoulders brushing, knees bumping. Max’s pinky moves to brush over yours. You let it happen. 

He’s got really pretty eyes, you notice, steel blue staring right back at you. Piercing the careful facade you have to put up when working these events. Some people are charming, and you’ve learned to keep yourself a closed book to keep yourself safe. But Max feels different. Max’s interest seems genuine. 

It only intrigues you even more. You don’t know him, but you want to. 

Max clears his throat suddenly. “I should go,” He says. 

You wait for him to back away, to put some space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. If anything, he looks like the last thing he wants to do is leave. 

Part of you wants him to stay, but you know he shouldn’t. The same is true for you. He needs to get back to his job, and you need to get back to yours. 

“Me too,” You reply, taking careful notice to keep your tone from sounding too dejected. “Thanks for listening to me rant. I feel a little better now.” 

“I’m glad I could help.” 

You force yourself to climb to your feet, putting that distance between Max and yourself up before you have the urge to do something rash. A flash of your mouth on his zips through your mind for a split second. 

No. You can't do that. 

“Bye, Max. It was nice meeting you.” 

“Yeah. Nice meeting you too.” 

Now is the time for you to leave—one foot in front of the other, away from him, back to reality. 

“Wait!” He calls before you can get far. You turn on your heel like you were expecting him to say something else, waiting for him to reach you. He catches your elbow, squeezing gently. “What are you doing after this is over?” 

“Honestly? I was going to go home and pass out on my couch.” Max’s eyebrows pinch in the middle. “But I could be persuaded otherwise. Why?” 

“Would you want to get a drink? With me.” 

“Not really helping the lonely allegations,” You tease, smiling warmly despite your ribbing. Max rolls his eyes goodnaturedly.  “Yeah, I’d love to grab a drink. But I don’t get off until late, so it might be a while.” 

“I’ll wait.” His answer is immediate. Firm. 

“Okay. Okay, cool,” You say, fighting a smile. “I’ll find you after everything is over.” 

“I’m counting on it.”

The night flies by faster now that you’ve got Max to look forward to by the end of it. By the time you’re freed from the shackles of customer service, you don’t feel as drained as you normally do. You’re strangely excited to get to know him some more. 

You find Max waiting for you just outside the coat check, pretty eyes searching the dwindling gala goers until he spots you approaching. He smiles, nods his head in greeting.

“Hi. Everything alright?” 

“It’ll be better the sooner we get out of here.” 

“Let’s go, then.” 

Instead of a bar, he brings you back to his place. It catches you by surprise when he asks, but he assures you it’s more for privacy purposes than anything else, strictly two new friends sharing a drink and some more conversation. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting for a man of his financial standing, but a massive penthouse overlooking Monte Carlo makes sense. You do your best to tame your reaction, but it really is impressive. 

His living room is probably the size of your whole apartment, and that’s just what you can see right now. A pristine white couch sits in the middle of the room on an even whiter carpet in front of a sleek, top of the line entertainment unit, and there’s some sort of sim racing setup with a fancy chair nestled in the far corner near a wall of floor to ceiling windows. Surrounding the rig are a handful of trophies and racing helmets, each of them polished to perfection. 

Over in the far corner is a huge evergreen tree, decorated with twinkling lights and silver baubles. It looks extremely professional, almost staged, and the more you look at it, the more you’re sure he hadn’t been the one to put it up.

“What do you like to drink? I’ll make you something.” Max’s voice pulls you out of your gawking at his home. Your eyes snap over to him hovering next to a bar cart stocked with liquor, sweeping a hand along the bottles. Twisting your lips to the side in contemplation, you tell him your drink of choice and he smiles. “Nice one. I’m more of a gin and tonic kind of guy, but hey, to each their own.” 

You find your way to one end of the giant sofa not long later, aforementioned gin and tonic in his hand, your drink nestled in yours. “I did you, now you do me.” 

Max nearly chokes on his drink, brows flying high at your bluntness. “Sorry, what?” 

You look unphased. “What do you think you know about me?” 

Oh. Of course that’s what you meant. 

He takes a few beats to ponder your question, eyes squinting in thought. Then he fixes you to the spot with a decisive look. 

“I think you have big dreams. Changing the world, making it a better place—but you haven’t quite figured out how to do it yet,” He says, tilting his head. Your chest tightens at his words, because they’re true. “You’re going in circles, not able to figure out that one thing that’ll break the cycle you’re stuck in. I think once you do figure it out, you’re going to do great things. Big things.” 

Like before, somehow the space between the two of you has dwindled into nearly nothing as he looks at you so intently with those piercing eyes of his. You’re a little surprised by how on the nose he is about you, but it also makes sense. Max seems very observant. Perhaps it comes from being on the lookout all the time. 

“If the racing doesn’t work out, you might want to consider psychology,” You manage to say. 

He chuckles, nose scrunching. “Sure, I’ll think about it. Though I think it’s going pretty well at the moment.” 

-------

“When can I see you again?” He asks a while later, head lolling to face you lazily.

His hand has somehow found its way spread over your knee, nimble fingers tap tap tapping mindlessly. The first few buttons of his shirt have been undone, hair mussed from how often he'd been dragging his fingers through it.

Your drinks have worn off ages ago, but you still feel warm and fuzzy. Though you suspect it’s more from the man you’re with rather than the residual alcohol talking. 

You’ve been getting to know each other as the night goes on, swapping stories about your lives until you feel like you haven’t just met him a few hours ago. His are by far much more entertaining than yours, but Max seems to enjoy the mundane of yours. 

Part of you is surprised by his question. In your mind, you were expecting this to just be a one time thing. An easy way to fill a boring night, never to be thought about again. But Max does want to see you again. You don’t let it phase you. Instead, you raise an amused brow. 

“Why? You planning on kicking me out anytime soon?” You joke. Max’s fingers twitch, and he shakes his head. 

“No, I just—I’d like to see you again, is that so wrong?” 

“Not at all. I’d like that too.” You smile at him. “Though it is getting late, so I should probably head out anyways.” 

Max doesn’t push for you to stay, just nods understandingly. “You’re sure you’re okay to make it home on your own? Let me order you an Uber,” He says, digging his phone out of his pocket. 

“Yes, Max, I’m fine. And I can get my own Uber, thank you very much.” 

“Please, let me. I asked you here, the least I can do is pay for your ride home.” He seems like a very insistent person, so you sigh goodnaturedly, waving a hand for him to go ahead. When he’s done and a car is on its way, he turns to you, propping his chin up in the palm of his hand. “I had a nice time tonight.”

You scoff lightly, raising a brow. “I recall you saying something about how company galas are the worst part of your job.” 

“I dunno, this one wasn’t that bad.” Max shrugs, a fond smile playing at his lips. “I met you, didn’t I?” 

“Best night of your life then, huh?” You tease, winking at him. 

“It’s definitely up there.” 

“Too bad it’s ending soon.” 

“Too bad,” He echoes. He tilts his head, rubs at the smooth fabric of the sofa cushion just so he has something to do with his hand. “Looks like we’ll have to see each other again soon.” 

You have all the time in the world to unravel the mystery that is Max Verstappen, if he’ll let you. And judging by the way his hand inches towards yours until your fingers intertwine while you’re waiting for your Uber to come, he will.

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[gold-onthe-inside]

frostbite

who? spencer reid (s3) x tough!reader summary: spending christmas on a case is hard enough without you tracking down the unsub on your own, and tough as you are, you're not invulnerable. word count: 1k content warnings: canon-typical violence, references to dismemberment, weapons (ax, knife, guns)

This was not how you thought your Christmas would go. Your hands felt cold and numb in the North Dakota winter, you just couldn't seem to warm yourself up, even in all your layers. Think. What happened? The team had been called away on the 23rd, and now for some reason you were lying in the snow, surrounded by trees. You must have hit your head on something, if you couldn't piece this together.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" sang a taunting voice and you groaned softly, getting up and spotting the low-hanging branch. Right. You had been running. You patted yourself down. No gun. Knife. You gripped the hilt, slowly getting up. The grip is second nature, you didn't top the Academy field training course for no reason. You slip into the trees and branches, keeping an eye out for the unsub, trying to remember how you got separated from the others. The cabin.

They'd found it empty, had started pulling up floorboards to look for their latest victim and in the hubbub of looking for Melissa Green, you had seen the axe missing from the chopping block outside, footprints leading out to the trees. "Come on, pretty girl, where'd you go?" his voice sang again. You know he's a big guy, the odds that you could take him weren't exactly slim, but you knew better than to bring a knife to an axe-fight. But if you could play Marco Polo long enough…

He's an expert at tracking, so you tear off a piece of wool that was already unspooling from your sweater, letting it fall and leaving deliberate foot prints to lead him right to you. And then you clamber up a tree, gripping your knife between your teeth. If it works, you get the drop on him… literally. If it doesn't… well, you can't outrun the bastard anyway. You can't even remember which way the cabin is, and it's starting to get dark. You swallowed, gripping your knife, comfortably perched on a thick branch, hidden among the trees, and radioing your location. Rossi's maybe the only one in the group who's any good at wilderness skills and hunting. If anyone can find you, he's your saving grace, no matter how much you detest hunting as a sport.

Sure enough, you spot the big guy lumbering towards your trap, too engrossed in the hunt to care about the potential of other FBI agents searching for him. You let out a breath and it fogs up in front of you, and you prepare yourself for the tussle, the grip on your knife tightening, and then you jump. It all happens so fast, you don't even really track what happens. Your legs tightened around his neck, attempting to choke him so you don't have to use the blade in your hand, but then he slammed you back against a tree and the pain and cold forces a grunt out of you. You're on the ground, the unsub in front of you and his axe is swinging. You have enough sense to dart out of the swing and it lodged in the tree, your knife slicing into his torso as you twisted out his way.

"Bitch," he spat, pulling his axe out of the trunk and you quelled the panic rising in your throat.

"I bet you got a lot of coal for Christmas, didn’t you?" you asked, taunting him as you circled around him, the adrenaline giving you more nerve than you had as you twirled your knife. Where was your team? "But seriously, were you like… never hugged as a child? Seriously? Who spends Christmas chopping people up?"

"You talk too much," he said, gritting his teeth as he loomed over you while you backtracked.

"Yeah, my supervisor said that too," she said. "But he stonewalls a lot, what else can you do?" you asked, shrugging, your mouth working before your brain could catch up. You needed backup, badly, before this guy backed you into a corner. It was getting colder and darker and God, you really didn't want to have to kill him. He cocked his head at you, probably wondering why you weren't running, like a sane person of your height and weight. "Any chance you'd just… surrender, so I can go home?" she asked and the unsub chuckled.

"You're not going home," he leered, backing you into a corner and raising the blade of his axe to your neck, watching you swallow. Never show fear. You closed your eyes, taking a breath to calm your nerves, and then you heard them. You can't fight your smirk as half a dozen footfalls end up surrounding the two of you and you twisted the axe away from your neck, slamming the big guy against a tree.

"Drop the axe!" Aaron yelled, flanked by the rest of your team. You stepped away, relatively unscathed, and Emily passed you your gun back.

They eventually drag him back up through the woods and into custody and Spencer approached you with a fretful look as you holster your gun back in place. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and tender, his hand finding the bruise on your temple, the cut right by your hairline, and the care in his touch is so sincere, it hurts more than your actual injuries.

"I've recovered from worse," you assured him and his lips pursed.

"That doesn't make me feel better," he told you, hazel eyes turning darker as the light faded. "You could have a concussion--"

"I probably do," you said. "I can barely piece together what happened."

He huffed. "What happened is that you ran off without back up again and got injured again, you can't be this reckless, do you have any idea how terrified I was when we couldn’t find you? You were out here with an unsub on the loose and no weapon, you could have ended up like Melissa--" His voice was breaking as he spoke and you hugged him before he could tear up. There's a lot you can take, there's not much that breaks your spirit, but Spencer in tears? He found it unexpected, it had taken 2 years before you let Penelope hug you without complaint, but he was hugging you back, burying his head in your crook of your neck, exactly where the unsub's axe had been. "Never do that again," he whispered and you didn't answer, nor did he prompt you. You don't make promises you can't keep.

[lvnleah]

— christmas cookies | leah williamson 🎄

find the twelve days of Christmas masterlist here!

The early December air was crisp and cool, but inside the warmth of your kitchen, everything felt cosy and festive. You were 37 weeks pregnant, your belly round and heavy with anticipation for your little one’s arrival. Each day felt like a countdown, the excitement growing, yet the exhaustion was starting to settle in. 

Leah had been so supportive throughout your pregnancy. She’d been the one to rub your swollen feet at the end of long training days, the one to help you adjust your shoes as your belly got in the way, and the one who never complained about taking on a little extra around the house to keep things running smoothly. Today, though, she was all about baking Christmas cookies with you. She’d promised that she would take care of everything, and that meant you could relax, even if only for a few hours.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and sugar as Leah carefully mixed together the ingredients for sugar cookies. You stood by the counter, leaning slightly to one side as you adjusted yourself to get more comfortable. Your hands rested on your belly, feeling the soft movements of the baby inside you.

Leah glanced up at you, catching the way you were gently stroking your belly and smiled. “How’s the little one doing?” she asked softly, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

You smiled back at her, feeling a sudden rush of affection. “Kicking away. Seems like they’re just as excited for Christmas as we are.”

Leah’s eyes softened, her gaze drifting to your belly for a moment before she returned to the cookie dough. “Can’t wait to meet them,” she murmured, a fondness in her voice that made your heart swell.

You shuffled over to the cupboard and grabbed the cookie cutters, setting them on the counter. “You know, I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you said, your voice quiet. “We’re going to be parents.”

Leah chuckled, her hands never stopping their work. “You’re just realising that now? Bit late now babe.”

“Maybe a little,” you said with a playful grin. “It feels real now. I mean, we’ve been talking about it for months, but now that it’s getting so close…” You trailed off, not really needing to say more. The anticipation was tangible, and it was as though you could feel the excitement in every part of your being.

Leah finished mixing the dough and turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, what shapes are we making first?” She held up a rolling pin, clearly ready for the next step.

You smiled. “How about stars and trees? It feels appropriate for Christmas.”

“Stars and trees it is.” Leah handed you the rolling pin and watched as you gently rolled out the dough, your movements slow and careful. It had become a bit of a challenge to do things as easily as you once had, but Leah was right there beside you, guiding your hands when needed.

Once the dough was rolled out, Leah cut out the first set of shapes with a steady hand. “You know,” she said casually, “I’ve never actually baked with anyone during Christmas before. It’s always been just me and my family, but this… this feels different. Special.”

You glanced up at her, her face soft with the realisation of what the two of you were creating together. “It is special,” you agreed. “It’s the start of our own little family traditions.”

Leah smiled, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the oven and the shared joy of the moment. The next few hours were spent laughing, decorating cookies with icing and sprinkles, and chatting about everything and nothing. You couldn’t help but laugh as Leah concentrated so hard on making sure the snowman on her cookie had the perfect carrot nose.

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, pointing to her nearly perfect snowman.

Leah raised an eyebrow, holding up her own cookie. “And what about mine? I think it looks just as good.”

You held up your own snowman cookie next to hers. “Well, I mean… it’s not bad, but you may need to work on your icing skills,” you joked.

Leah laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “You’re still the best partner in crime, even with messy icing.”

As you both stepped back and surveyed the table covered in decorated cookies, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The house smelled like sugar and spice, and the world outside had gone quiet, save for the soft hum of holiday music in the background. There was a sense of calm about this time of year, one that you hadn’t always felt, but now you did. You were ready for whatever was to come.

Leah wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “These will be perfect to leave out for Santa,” she said with a smile. “And maybe we can eat some of them before bed, too.”

You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder. “I think Santa will be pleased with our work. But honestly, I’m more excited for us to start this next chapter.”

Leah gave you a tight squeeze, her lips brushing the top of your head. “Me too. And I can’t wait to do all of this with you—every step of the way.”

As the evening stretched on, you two cleaned up the kitchen, your laughter and love filling the space. This Christmas, the anticipation of your baby’s arrival made everything feel even more meaningful. And no matter how much the world outside may change, you knew this was where your heart would always be—right here, baking cookies with the woman you loved and looking forward to the beautiful family you were about to become.

[windvexer]

Hiya Chicken, hope all is well with you! Something’s been on my mind and I would love your perspective.

The thrust of it is: can the will of the universe (if there is such a thing) override spellwork?

For context, I lost my job earlier this year, and have been working some magic to get re-employed (along with a metric shit ton of mundane legwork). None of it has been fruitful, and in attempting to troubleshoot, I realized that several of my spells had conditions along the lines of “this new job will serve my highest and best self.”

I’m still a novice at casting – frankly, I’ve not had much success with *any* magic (😞) – so I’m guessing the more immediately pertinent issue has to do with raising power/magical headspace. But, I’m curious if that nebulous “highest and best” would get in the way of producing results.

Also, where exactly does that language originate?? I think I’ve seen it when people talk about petitioning the universe for guidance, or getting in touch with your purpose/path in this life, but is that from a certain tradition or set of beliefs? And if everyone has a pre-determined purpose (or something else that counts as becoming your highest and best self), would including such a statement cause spells to fail if whatever you’re casting for doesn’t align with that purpose? Because real talk, my unemployment has run out and I don’t have time to wait for the highest and best job any more.

Thanks so much for your time, I appreciate you!!

It's New Age.

FUCK your highest/best self.

Even if it exists it can go suck a room temperature limp pickle.

Bear with me my guy. Let's be bears together, peacefully watching the sunrise of this idea over the serene forests of wisdom:

What in the good fuck is the point of being a witch if not to DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO REGARDLESS OF WHAT THE SHIT UNIVERSE HAS DELEGATED FOR YOU.

It is changing fate.

It is CHANGING FATE.

WITCHCRAFT IS CHANGING FATE.

THEREFORE HOW CAN YOU DO THAT IF YOU JUST ASK THE UNIVERSE TO KEEP DOING WHAT ITS DOING?!

"Hi I believe in this life I have been assigned a True Goal and Best Outcome. I don't know what it is! The Universe could decide it's in my best interest to never escape poverty so my soul can learn some shit. But whatever this Best Outcome is, I will obey it :) blindly :) Spells, go do my bidding! But not if they change my fate. I'm on those train tracks, baybeee. Full speed ahead towards the same place I've been going since birth."

YOUR SPIRITUALITY FOR HOW YOU CHOOSE TO STRIVE TO BE A GOOD PERSON, AND THE PERSONAL WORK YOU DO TO BETTER YOURSELF, SHOULD PROBABLY BE INTENTIONAL I BET.

What is your highest good? Because I kind of feel like you shouldn't leave that up to a nebulous force you don't understand. My guy, and I mean this in the best possible way, you don't even know the widely popular faith (New Age) these beliefs are coming from. I don't think you understand this concept of The Universe; and yet you seem to be willing to place your fate in its hands.

And I think you may also be horrified by the realization that you are ceding autonomy of your ambitions, your goals, your needs, even the very core of your morality, to some fucking Power or Presence or whatever.

What is your highest good? I'm sorry, I mean this genuinely - you do not get to let someone else decide that for you. We all have to read some philosophy and smoke weed and look at the stars with friends and decide for ourselves what it means to be a good person who lives well. Many of us will grapple with this our entire lives.

There is no shortcut. You can't be your best self by doing whatever you want and delegating the decision making to some outside force, hoping that a smarter and more benevolent power will just cancel out any bad decisions you make based on a rubric you don't understand.

If we do have Highest Selves and soul evolution, I do not believe we can evolve based on always letting someone else make the final call for us.

YOU CAN HAVE GUIDANCE. You can have help. You can have plenty of it!!

That's what the witch's familiar is for. That's what tutelary spirits are for. That's why so many people turn to gods for guidance. You can research someone, or ask for a specific kind of help, and say, "hi I want to cast a job spell but I don't know sorcery great, can someone help me craft this so that I don't end up doing something disastrous?"

That's what I do all the time! I'll be about to do some stupid shit about twice a week, but the spirits who love me and help me are like, "Hey! please do not do that sweaty :) That would be Bad," and I listen to them, because they are not nebulous faraway forces; they are my very good friends whom I have known for years and trust completely.

But at the end of the day, they can't make decisions for you. A very creepy truth, that I believe is actually true, is that gods and spirits of Witchcraft will not make decisions for you. They will not cancel out spells if it's not in your "highest good." They will let you do anything you want in your own worst interest.

They will help you and they will guide you. But it's like I said: you can't end up being your best self by doing whatever and hoping someone else picks up the slack.

I don't think it's possible to ever achieve any highest good or best self by never making an actual decision.

And that's what it is, I think. That's what it is when you say, "let me have a job if someone else thinks it's a good idea."

That's not your decision. That's not your choice. That's not your power. That's raising your hand in the back of class and hoping teacher will call on you.

Fuck the Universe. Fuck the highest good. How about some of that live deliciously shit? When do YOU get to eat? Your highest self must be stuffed at the table of delicacies harvested from every moment of your life that you sacrifice to it while you are here with your unemployment run out.

Look in The Universe's eye and tell it to start calling you daddy.

Command. Do not ask, do not intend. Force; compel. Dominate.

next I visualize that the candle is full of prosperous energies if Earth-Goddess wills it in my highest good- NO.

"Listen to me. Listen to me, Earth. Listen to me, Sky. Listen to me, my own Soul. For 27 goddamn years I have been doing whatever I think you want me to do. Now you're all going to do what I want to do. It is not my normal voice that speaks, but the voice of my power. The power within me laces every word, it seeps into the air like water into paper."

Do you feel like someone is suddenly squeezing you by the throat? Do words suddenly become hard to find? Do you feel a bit dizzy? Do you have a strange moment where you can't remember why you started any of this, like you're not sure how you got there? You're on the right track.

"On this day of Jupiter, on this hour of Jupiter, I am giving a command. I command that the magical pathways of this candle be opened, so that the free-flowing and freely given benevolent powers of Jupiter will empower and charge my spell."

(Do not command Jupiter, of course. We're engaging in a little courageousness, not trying to get struck by lightning)

"I do not need to visualize the movement of energies. I know the truth because I have commanded the truth and I am a creator god born into this flesh: The candle is filled with the power of a God, I have the ability to channel the freely-given power of one of the Seven Governors whom has been worshiped by humans since the start of time, it is here and I have claimed it as is my right, as was offered to me:

This candle spell will bring me the fate I desire, because I have designed that it will occur, and no god, spirit, beast, or man will stand in my way."

It should feel fucked up, my friend. It should give you stage fright. It should make your palms sweat and your stomach queasy. It should give you the same emotional sensation as having a heartbreaking conversation that you know will change a relationship forever.

Sorry, reality. Sorry, fate. It's just not working out. And since we can't get divorced, you two need to shape up your act because right now I'm in charge of this polycule. When the spell is over, we can be equals again.

And if you do it right, it should make you have to sleep for probably about a week. If your health allows it of course, I recommend not trying to restrict carb intake for the next few days. Keep headache medicine on hand also.

Thank you for being a bear with me. I hope you enjoyed this serene forest of wisdom.

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 7, episode 702

The time has finally come for me to talk about my boards for the last season of the Dragon Prince! Wow, time flies!

To be honest season 7 was such a hard season to make. Telling a good story is always a challenge, but ending one, oof! that is an herculean job!

I remeber everyone being super stressed during the production of this season, because time was always in short supply, and it is really hard to produce great art with little time, haha.

Also, I think that after a year and a half working non stop doing boards for the show, most of us where starting to feel exhausted, and you can see it on my boards, they are much less polished than usual.

But, no matter the context and circumstances, we always try to deliver the best we can and tell the ending of this arc in the most satisfactory way possible.

Lets start with my sequences. First one is the one with Ezran's council in the Banther Lodge.

This one starts with the little exchange between Soren and Corvus, I really like these two. I think they grew on me as a duo during my time in the show. Soren was already one of my favorites, but by the end of season 7, Corvus and Soren was a top pair for me, too.

I think that, whatever you think their relationship is, physical touch is a thing between this two, they are always touching each other, there is some vulnerability that they allow with each other that is endearing.

If you read my comments about my boards in season 6, one of the things I was talking about is how sometimes the expressions we draw in boards don't translate that well to the final animation (This happens in a lot of shows, and it's because of limitation on the face rig of the characters, nothing related to the talent of our crew, because they are all super talented) This little shot is another case, I wanted Callum to feel like "Oh boy, shit is hitting the fan!"

I think this scene is mostly about the conflict between points of view, Callum and Rayla wanting for Ezran to free (and forgive) Runaan as soon as possible, while Ezran is struggling with his emotions. It's a hard one.

To be honest I understand Ezran 100% and I know that the right thing for him would be eventually to forgive Runaan, but is not something that could happen inmediatly. Grieve and angry are feelings that can get poisonus really easily, and they need time to heal and allow perspective.

I think Ralyla made the wrong choice bringing Runaan to Katolis.

Anyway, I wanted to play this sequence (and the next one) a little as a power play between the brothers. There are two forces pulling Callum rigth now, and the tension is growing because of it. I like this shot, I think, is cool.

My next sequence is the continuation of the Banther Lodge Council scene. Rayla is out of the building right now, and Callum is deeply distracted.

But we start with a little coment of comedy with Soren "testing" the bread. This shot ended flipped, but the idea is still the same, I am glad the keept the moment of Soren putting the bread on his mouth, haha.

Again this scene mix two trains of though or conflicts together, in one hand you have Ezran trying to figure out how to lead his people in a way that makes sure a tragedy like the burning of Katolis doesn't happen again. And in the other hand the struggle between Callum loyalties, and his inhability to be what Ezran needs him to be right now.

This is not hate to Callum, I think that his desicions are pretty ok taking in consideration that is he still a teeneager. But I feel that he gets tunnel vision when things are related to Rayla, and he failed miserably as a brother and member of the council during this time.

While I think Callum is right, Ezran should forgive Runaan, he should be there to provide love and support to his brother, and advice and perspective to his king. Space for Ezran to come to the conclusion that forgivenes is the right path.

Anyway, I had this gesture boarded with Ezran hitting the air, but they ended adding the cup there for him to toss. I don't know how I feel about it, It's fine (specially if you talke into consideration that the Anya pick up the cup and give it back to Ezran) but feels a little off to me. Not sure why, tho.

I like Anya and Ezran relationship. I think I would appreciate it if she also took the place that Callum was failing to fulfill and gave some space to Ezran to grieve and process his sadness in a more intimate level. Like as friends more than as "heads of state". But anyway, she is cool, I am glad Ezran had someone as his side during this time.

I remember that one of the instructions I got for this sequence was to make sure that Ezran feels like a mob boss. Hahaha. Funny, tho. But besides that, I think that something that I was glad to see and board was Ezran taking more action and having more agency.

Maybe we can disagree with his point of view, but it was great to finally see him taking the reins of the kingdom, being active and assertive with his actions.

My last two sequences in this episode were the talk of Callum and Ezran close to the fireplace. I think this was an instance of Callum trying to be Ezran brother, giving him support and love and helping him to see the erron of his ways.

BUT, and this is a big but, I feel that all of this feels empty and, from Ezran point of view, manipulative; because after this talk Callum right away decides not only to "betray" Ezran but also to leave him alone. And that was not pretty wise of him, imo.

It is always a pleasure to draw any character making a suspicious face, hahaha "I don't trust you":

I think during the first part of the talk, the sibilings are on pretty opposite sides, there is a rift between them, and it is hard to close. But then there is more space for vulnerability and trust.

I think a really significant momen is for Ezran to remove his crown. "I am not talking as the king, but as your brother" kind of moment. Humanizes him a lot and shows the sincerity of his words.

He is confesing here, how he is tired, how this dury felt on his shoulders even when he was not ready for it, and how much he is trying to carry the burden, but oh boy, how heavy is the crown!

And I feel that this is the part when Callum made a mistake. Instead of listen to him, to recognize his pain, to offer his aid and support, some kind of "you don't need to do this alone" kind of thing, he brings the topic back to Runaan.

And then he shots the shot: "You forgave Zubeia" And ouch! I mean, he is right, that is something that Ezran did, but I don't think this is the moment to bring it. But again, the conflict here is that none of them can see the other right now. Callum is too worried about Rayla and Runaan, and Ezran is too hurt and overwheelmed.

And I wanted to make the shift clear, so Callum literally points fingers at Ezran. He demands action, he expect his brother to do what he wants him to do, not what Ezran needs to do. In an ideal world there would be a trial for Runaan, one where we can hear both parties, where Ezran can express his feelings his doubts and grieve, that could end in him finding forgivenes in his heart.

But it is not an ideal world. Things are falling apart, and the struggles between the needs and wants of characters are in conflict. So, people make bad decisions. That is good writing if you ask me.

Then Zym intervines, he wants Ezran to forgive Runaan, not for the same reasons than Callum, tho.

I think in Zym's mind is more an attempt to get "the old Ezran back". So Callum and Zym try to make their point together. I wanted to paint it as if Zym has this naive approach to the stituation, while Callum is a little more manipulative (I don't think that on porpouse) being like "look, even Zym agrees" failing to see why Zym is agreeing. I think the sin of Callum in all this episode is blindness (or tunel vision as we said before)

And kinda works. Not because Ezran is ready to forgive, but because I feel that there is something inside Ezran that thinks like Zym too. That maybe there is a way to go back to be like he was before.

And that is the thing, pain and grieve change you, and accept that change is part of growing up. Aaravos talk about that a lot this season. So there is a little truce, a moment of "maybe" from Ezran. I really like to draw this two together.

Sadly this moment gets interrupted by Soren asking for help. And from here is downhill. I think Callum's actions after this point did not help at all to Ezran to heal or change his mind.

The fact that Callum decided to leave probably made Ezran wound worst, and any hope that this conversation could bring for the brothes to get back together gets shattered.

Great setting up of their conflict for this season, imo.

Well that was my work for 702. Thanks for reading this brickwall of text! Hope you like this! And feel free to ask if you have questions about the storyboard process!

See you for 705 boards soon!

[marauroon]

Part 2 to espresso I beg 🙏

W A K E U P C A L L — JAMES POTTER!

a 6am shift at the coffee shop was the last thing you needed after a students’ night out. and james is way too energetic.

james potter x fem!reader (barista!au) | 1.4k | fluff | masterlist.

a/n — no begging necessary ml, i love this au sm

You’re almost falling asleep as you clean out the basin of one of the coffee machines. It should’ve been done by yesterday’s closers, but the universe obviously hadn’t punished you enough by just giving you a 6am opening shift on a Monday morning in the middle of December.

You honestly thought your fingers were going to fall off as you fumbled the front doors unlocked, but now, nestled into the warmth of the overhead heater you really do feel like you could fall asleep where you stand.

You get it to a point, people have places to be and things to do, even at 6 in the morning, but you also have places to be, places being in your bed and not standing behind a counter serving sleep-deprived business men coffee whilst they wait for a train.

But of course, there’s James, bouncing around behind the counter like he’s ready to run a marathon. You can’t figure out how the hell he does it, even after all this time working together. He’s like an Energizer bunny, perpetually full of energy.

“Oi, what’s the matter with you today?” James asks, his voice loud enough to snap you out of your almost-sleepy stupor. He’s grinning, completely unaware that you just want to collapse into the nearest seat and sink into the floor.

You glare at him over the top of the espresso machine. “I’m fine, just living the dream,” you mutter, your voice hoarse with the faintest trace of sarcasm.

James laughs and pulls a fresh batch of croissants from the oven, his movements effortless. It’s as if he’s been awake for hours, yet you know full well that he probably didn’t get much more sleep than you did last night. Between university assignments, the social committee work, and, of course, his infamous club nights, it’s a miracle he’s even functioning.

“Yeah, you look like you’re living the dream,” he teases, his smile never faltering. “You look like you want to crawl under the counter and hibernate.”

You roll your eyes. "You’re so chipper for someone who was at the same club night as me last night."

James shrugs nonchalantly, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing the next batch to bake. “What can I say? I’ve got an unbreakable constitution. You know that about me.”

You snort, your tiredness momentarily forgotten at the absurdity of his statement. “Unbreakable? James, you’re literally always falling asleep in the running social meetings, I’m pretty sure you just don’t notice how badly you’re functioning.”

“Me? Fall asleep?” He raises an eyebrow, a mock offended expression crossing his face as he hands over a cappuccino to a regular customer. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent multitasker.”

“Right.” You’re not buying it. Not when you’ve seen him slumped in the corner of the student union’s meeting room, eyes half-closed, trying to pretend he’s taking notes for the event planning. You swear he’s somehow mastered the art of sleep while looking awake, and you’re in awe of how easily he pulls it off.

“I mean, if you’re tired, I can always take over for you,” James adds, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ve got more than enough energy to go around.”

You snort again, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “You’d be a liability on the coffee machine. I can’t risk you having a caffeine overdose and bouncing off the walls like a pinball.”

James grins, unfazed. “That’s just an extra perk! Think of how much more productive we’d be if I was bouncing off the walls. You’d get to be the lazy one, and I’d be the charming one, keeping everyone energised,”

You shake your head, though you can’t help but smile despite yourself. “Right, charming. That’s exactly what we need at 6am.”

The door to the coffee shop opens with a chime, and another customer steps inside, pulling your attention away from James. You greet them automatically, still feeling a bit dazed, your exhaustion not quite gone. As you prepare the next cup of coffee, you try to focus on the rhythm of the morning.

But it’s hard not to notice James in your peripheral vision, his energy contagious despite your best efforts to remain annoyed at him. How does he do it? It’s not just the fact that he’s awake and functioning—it’s that he’s always so alive in everything he does. Whether it’s the running social, the random nights out, or the mornings like this one, he always has that boundless enthusiasm.

“How do you do it?” you ask suddenly, barely catching yourself before you sound too curious. “How are you this... this awake? All the time?”

James doesn’t seem to be caught off guard by the question. He just leans on the counter, watching you carefully with that easy grin of his. “Let me get you onto this magical thing called micronaps,” he says, his voice dropping just slightly, jazz hands and all to sell his ‘idea’. “Otherwise, you can always leech energy from the people around you. Like I do to you.”

“Me?” You’re almost choking on your disbelief. “I’m literally half-dead right now.”

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he’s sharing a secret. “That’s the point, love, I’ve stolen it all,”

You blink. For a moment, you just stare at him, the early morning fog of exhaustion making it harder to process what he’s saying.

“Okay, stop. You’re making me look bad,” you finally mutter, tiredness still edging into your tone. “You’re making fun of me now,”

James just chuckles, ruffling his hair in that way he does when he’s pleased with himself. “What can I say, it’s my favourite pass-time,”

You give him a side-eye, but you can’t quite muster up the same level of annoyance you usually would. Instead, you sigh deeply, rolling up your sleeves as you prepare for the next rush. “Whatever, you win. Happy?”

“Absolutely,” James replies, grinning from ear to ear as he hands over another order.

As the morning drags on, you notice yourself relaxing into the rhythm of the shift. James is right about one thing—he really does have a way of making everything more fun, even when you’re running on fumes. You catch yourself laughing at his jokes more than you want to admit, and despite your grumbling about your lack of sleep, you can’t help but enjoy the banter that flies between you both.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of customers, coffee machines, and laughter. Every time you catch James’ grin or hear one of his sarcastic remarks, you feel the weight of your exhaustion lift, just a little bit.

By the time your shift ends, the early morning fatigue has started to recede, replaced by a sense of quiet contentment. You’re still tired, no doubt about that, but it’s a kind of good tired, the kind you get after a productive day. And maybe, just maybe, it’s also the result of being around someone whose energy is impossible to ignore, even if you want to.

“So,” James says, tossing his apron into the back room as you both prepare to head out, “same plan for tonight?”

You look at him, suddenly aware of how much time you’ve spent with him lately. “Absolutely not. I’m just glad I made it through this shift.”

He winks, pulling his jacket on. “Come on. Besides, the night’s still young, and the student discount on pints of strongbow is calling my name,”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, good for you mate, I’m going to sleep.”

“Boring,” James says, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you both step out into the cold December air. “I’ll see you on the run tomorrow, right?”

You can’t help but smile, even as your thoughts drift to the never-ending list of things to do. “Unfortunately,”

“I’m sure an 8k will wake you from your hibernation,” he grins.

[bullet-prooflove]

Wishful Thinking: Alden Parker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @caffeinatedwoman @elefrog25-blog @toheavenwmydrms

Companion piece to:

Pillow Talk - Alden realises he's a shitty husband.

Two Points For Honesty - Alden makes a confession about his time on the run with Viv.

Wild Flowers - You confront Viv about what happened with Alden.

The Duck Pond - You try to tell Alden how you're feeling.

The Westminster Orchid is dying, you watch as the white petals crinkle under Alden’s inattention, the stems starting to shrivel. You’ve tried watering the thing, giving it specialist food but day by day it seems to wither.

Your marriage is in a similar state, it’s been over a week since you’ve spent more than five minutes with Alden and you feel the chasm in between you grow exponentially.

You sigh as you check your watch, quarter past eight.

He was supposed to be home three hours ago so you could make the drive down to the Inn at Warner Part for a weekend getaway. The plan was to take some time off, reconnect, that’s what he had promised you that morning after the duck pond. It didn’t matter that you weren’t eating together or barely sleeping in the same bed because you’d have this time to reconcile, to take a breath.

You can’t believe what an idiot you’ve been, splashing out an extravagant amount of money for something in the depths of your heart you knew wasn’t going to happen.

Wishful thinking at it’s best, you realise.

You’ve called him a few times and left a couple of messages but there’s been no response. He must be still caught up in that case, the one with Viv. That hurt you’ve been feeling, it rises up in your chest once more, constricting it.

This is what Kris used to do to you, leave you waiting hours for something that would never happen. It feels like it’s ingrained into your psyche to fall into this trap, to be perpetually caught in the middle unable to move or make a decision.

If you leave you’re contributing to the problem, widening that distance. If you stay you’re going to be miserable and you don’t want to be that person again, the one that’s on standby waiting for the moment her husband decides he needs her.

Fuck it, you think as you raise to your feet, there’s no point in letting the weekend stay going to waste. You’ll cancel the couples events and go wine tasting by yourself.

When you climb into the car you send a final text before you turn your phone off, tucking it into the glove compartment of the vehicle. You’re done with trying to talk, you don’t want to hear the excuses or even worse the silence. You just want to sit in a jacuzzi bubble bath with a glass of wine, watching the shittiest reality TV you can find because right now watching other people’s train wreck of a life feels far better than the one you’re currently living.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[choc-ice-on-wheels]

Humor me but I was trying to explain to my friend about how it feels to enjoy trains. Even as a novice I cannot help but romanticize them and wanted my friend to see through the mind of an engine or how I imagine an engine sees itself.

Imagine being so strong and nothing can really hurt you. You’re in a perfectly safe space made just for YOU (the rails) And your job is to go FAST as fast as you were made to be. Or to be strong and to be as strong as you were made to be. You were made to be fast and strong! There was intention in your design. Science, engineering, something real, something you aren’t taught to believe in the walls of a church. Power you can touch, see, and feel. You are imagination made real!

A person has to live under constraints and social pressure. And although you were made for people, their rules that restrict you like speed restrictions or what color you must be painted will never eclipse the truth of what you are and what you were meant to be.

Imagine being a thing built to work and LOVING to work and WANTING to work and when you’re tired, there are people who will fix you and you pay them with your work which also pays you! You are compensated by your mere existence and your usage! And people tell you you’re marvelous and strong and beautiful and it’s true because you are!

It’s like!!! Living an absolute perfect truth. And when you’re speeding down the track whistling as loud as you can for you’re meant to be loud and going as fast as you can because that’s what you’re meant to do; when you’re doing that, you’re living in perfect happiness.

The happiest one could ever be! No biological desire no concept of denying yourself your ultimate calling. Just doing what you’re made to do and loving it unconditionally. And being praised for it and never needing money because it means nothing to you! Incredible.

I just think it would be the most amazing feeling ever. But also!The saddest feeling to be broken! To be unused and waiting in a museum or a siding or a scrapyard. To be told you’re useless. To be melted down for some unknown purpose and to never feel the wind across your frames again and to never scream at your highest pitch that you’re alive and you’re loud enough to drown out the rest of the world! To be silent and only to take up space until you are removed from the beautiful rails and destroyed.

To no longer be what you were made to be. So cold you crack and rust away. And people only speak of your glory in past tense and blame you for things you couldn’t control.

Didn’t I do a good job?

Didn’t I pull? Didn’t I push trucks around nicely? Didn’t you get to where you needed to go? Did I ever treat your destinations as unimportant? Did I ever ask you to justify the direction I took you in? All I ever asked was to be what I was meant to be.

Now you say I’m too expensive. That I take up space. That no one will take care of me anymore. That I’m bad for the Earth I was made from and the living things on it I was made for. Why is this my fault?

Why is any of this my fault? When you made me this way?

Didn’t you benefit from what it took to give me power? Weren’t we all working together? I’m not sorry. I’m just sad.

So many times that came that never had to. So much work left undone. If I were an engine with my life cut short, how I’d cry over the loss of what could have been!

But no one would hear me. I can only be heard when I’m doing what I was made for. My truth only can be spoken when I’m given a voice.

I don’t know! I think trains are neat.

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:3 C:60] (Odile)

(. . . . . .)

(You had kicked everyone else out of Ramos’ room as Dr. Gina Joy did his work. Your group had probably been giving him more work than he had all week, gems. . .)

(You stood nearby as the doctor checked every part of Ramos’ body. You had your notebook out, taking notes whenever Gina talked. But, in honesty, you were more looking at your past notes, to calm yourself.)

(. . . . A couple months ago, your notes on mind craft started. Your notes on Ramos. It was your distrust of Ramos.)

(Why would you trust them, back then? You had met them just that day, and you had seen what happened to Siffrin because of what they did. You remember the first thing you ever said to them. You found them when they were recovering, and you had a moment alone.)

(“Do you know how to hide a dead body, Ramos?” You had asked. And they answered honestly, “No, I don’t. Why?”)

(And you replied simply. “I do.”)

(It was a simple threat. If they harmed your family, your people, those who you would give the world for, they’re dead.)

(. . .)

(You regret it, now.)

(Gems, that makes two then. Two people who you thought would backstab you, and two you were wrong about. And now they're dating! Ha!)

(. . . Ha. . .)

(. . . Once Ramos was better, you can apologize.)

>>>

(Bonnie)

(Soup n’ sandwich. You couldn’t get more boring with your brunch, but the doctor said so, so here you are. Boring old soup n’ sandwich. . .)

(. . . You nibble at the sandwich. You weren’t hungry.)

(Is ‘Oz gonna be okay?)

(You dunno, they said something about a fight in ‘Frins brain, right? And, and ‘Oz. . .)

(. . . You remember when you first met ‘Oz. You were going to where ‘Za used to work, met ‘m, seemed okay, smelt weird. You ran off for mint, few minutes later. . .)

(No that wasn’t it!)

(Huh?)

(It was th’ market!)

(Oh, yeah. ‘Oz was disguised, took you, but they weren’t in control, was bein’ controlled. They apologized a lot for that)

(. . . You wish you met ‘Oz a nicer way.)

(Yeah. . . You wanna know more about their gardening. They knew a lotta ‘bout gardening, and you wanted to know to get nice, big, juicy veggies! Getting all dirty and finding worms!!)

(Heheh! Yeah!! You could also ask about, uhm, uuuuh. . . Oh!!! What ‘Za was like!)

(Boooooriiing you KNOW what ‘Za is like. No you could ask about uhm, uh. . .)

(Heh, outta ideas?)

(Shut up!)

>>>

(Isabeau)

(You tried not to bounce your leg as Siffrin lay curled up, head down in your lap. They were hidden beneath one of their many hats. Who knew who was fronting, but you don’t think it really mattered at this point.)

(. . . Complete ego death.)

(That’s what Gina and Odile hypothesised anyway. The doctor had gone back to the medhouse to do what he could, but apparently all Ramos needed was, time. Time to rest, recover, and to piece themself back together.)

(Ha. . . Funny thing about time, huh. You gently pat Siffrins hair. A very, very funny thing about time. You found Sif not long ago chucking their dagger out the door. They tried to loop back. They DID loop back. But, whatever kinda checkpoint system they had, it was too late. After that they curled up on you. . .)

(. . . Your buddy. . . And your partner. . .)

(Why couldn’t life be simple again? You liked just swapping jokes with Sif, letting him take all the blankets when you shared a bed, eating together. You liked studying for the big exams with Ramos, always so anxious, always getting great grades. You liked going on jogs, you’d be done after a few miles and they could go for more. You liked wrestling with them, even though you always won.)

(. . . That's what Change is about huh, breaking something, killing something. You both changed. You returned to Jouvente to find that yourself and Ramos were, different. You were more confident in who you are, and Ramos has changed into who they wanted to be.)

(You really wish you could have been there, though. You should have seen how anxious they were about doing good, always asking to study and train with you. You should have helped them with more inside stuff than outside. You should have said a proper goodbye. You should have done a lotta things. . .)

(And someone else took advantage of the fact you didn't. Reach. Out.)

(So, you, reached out.)

(You talked to them, asked what was going on, why they were doing this. . . You were worried for them. And, you got through you them! They felt terrible, and wanted to fix things but. . . But for that fucking archeologist in their head!)

(Seeing your buddy, your best friend, your bestie, morphed into a sadness. Seeing them hurt, seeing them trying so hard, reaching out to you. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like. . .)

(. . . You hold Sif a bit closer.)

>>>

(Mirabelle)

(You breathe in. . . And, out. . .)

(It was the next day and you had gone on a walk. You know it’s a bad idea, you know it’s reckless, and unnecessary, and, and just stupid. But, you needed to go on a walk. A walk out of the city gate and into the woods.)

(You breathe in. . . . . And. . . Out. . . . .)

(That’s where you are now. A small clearing, away from the city, looking at a little rabbit sniffing around the clearing. You were here because you were still afraid. You were afraid of not being good enough, strong enough, brave enough. Perci could read minds and was an ace with those swords. Merlon could explode waves of sadness with a snap. With Ramos, Ramos like they are right now. . .)

(. . . You looked at the little rabbit. It’s, it’s alright to do this, right?)

{. . . IT WILL NOT HURT. IF IT FEELS WRONG. BRING TREAT NEXT TIME.}

(O-okay, okay. Okay. Okay. You breathe in, and, hold out your hand sign, staring down the rabbit! You used SOOTHING RESTFUL SONG!)

(The rabbit was frozen in time.)

(You let out a breath, you smell sugar, c-change. . . O-oh that. . . You felt a surge of cold within you, that took a lot of energy, but, it worked. . .)

(. . . Does, d-does, it get, easier?)

{. . . YES.}

(Thank you. . . You, walk towards the rabbit, and clap your hands, unfreezing the rabbit. It bolts off into the woods.)

(. . . You sit down in the grass. You could do it. If you met them again, you could do it.)

(. . . Oh Ramos.)

(Once everything calmed down in Jouvente, you just had to talk to them. To tell them just, how proud you were. They made mistakes, but, they’re working to fix it. They got the confidence to change their body, and the next thing was to change their mind, to get more. . . Confident.)

(This kind of change of mind was. . . Not what you had envisioned.)

(. . . Ramos is going to be okay. They had to be okay, they will be okay! So! Since they're going to be okay, you needed to train up to fight historians! Right?)

{RIGHT. IT WILL NOT BE EASY.}

(Yeah. You know. You stand up. Will frozen time be enough, you think?)

{JUST FOCUS ON YOUR TARGET. CHANNEL YOU EMOTIONS FOR THE STRONGEST ATTACK.}

(. . . That's why sadness like you can do that easily, right?)

{. . . YES.}

(Hehe. Maybe you should fight instead.)

{. . .}

(. . . S-sorry, that was a joke.)

{HA. HA.}

>>>

(Pétronille)

(It was the next day.)

(And you were feeling more useless than ever.)

(Ramos went under two days ago, and since then everyone had been doing their part. Be it moving their limbs so their body doesn't get crabbed up, helping them eat, drink, all that. Right now you were doing your part by staying home while the others went out for supplies.)

(. . . Change, dammit.)

(You were making yourself busy, cleaning the place up, dusting, all that. There were a bunch of random trinkets. Pictures, a compas, binoculars, random bits of brass, candles. . .)

(And the urn.)

(You paused for a second, staring at it. . . Change, you hope that wherever they are, it's a nice afterlife. You woulda loved to meet Eri, someone who'd defend the city in their old age. Someone who'd take a random kid like Ramos off the street.)

(. . . You wish you had someone like that back then.)

(Holding onto that little boat for dear life, little sibling still asleep, waves throwing you around. Finally making back to shore, and stumbling into Bambouche.)

(The people there were all so kind to you. But it was still just you, and Bonnie. You got a job, and Bonnie got a school. You got a house, a small house, more like a shack, but it was yours.)

(. . .)

(. . . Will, this house not have an owner, soon?)

(When Ramos recovers, you gotta give them a big hug. They helped save Bonbon, they asked a god for help AND IT WORKED! They helped reassure you. Crab that's not even mentioning they saved your mind at the inn.)

(From now on, if someone messes with Ramos, they mess with you. You're welded. No getting out that, Rams.)

>>>

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion|  [Loop] [(Saffron)]

[. . .]

[Your room. Your own headspace. Up the favor tree, past the canopy, and there you were. A treehouse. Looking out to the distance, the sights of the black sand beach were instead replaced with the house. That same house, still frozen in time.]

[(. . . Well?)]

[What.]

[(Do you feel proud?)]

[No! I don't feel blinding proud!]

[(But isn't that what you wanted?)]

[(The single sound mind in an endless sea of idiotic sailors. You who guides them to a happiness that you can never reach. Who reaches out, yet flinches away.)]

[. . .]

[(Tongue tied? Let me.)]

[(You regret it, but you know it was right. You know even if you didn't mean it, you finally have the trainee out of the way. You could finally rest easily knowing they don't have the host under their claws.)]

[(Because really! Who would believe that the host just falls in love with the trainee so fast! At the drop of a hat! At one little comment! No, no no no, the trainee is using him to get accepted in, obviously.)]

[(That's what you think, isn't it?)]

[. . . . . .]

[I don't want to think that anymore.]

[(So you'll join the idiots?)]

[YES! YES I'LL JOIN THE IDIOTS!!]

[I'LL JOIN ALL THE IDIOTS AND BURY MY HEAD IN THE SAND! I'LL LET RAMOS LIVE THEIR LIFE. KISS MY STARDUST. I'LL LET ASTERION DO WHAT HE WANTS EVEN!]

[AND THEN WHEN WE'RE STABBED IN THE BACK I'LL JUST TELL STARDUST I. TOLD. YOU. SO.]

[(wow, you really-)]

[Shut. Up.]

[I'm leaving.]

[(Leaving?)]

[Yes. Leaving.]

[And I'll come back when everyone's sane again.]

[(You know that'll never happen.)]

[Good.]

[majeoeje]

hi, so I find comfort/solace in your Tanjiro fics, specifically the kimono one, so thank you. It really helped me in a way. Like I was really sad and your fic helped me. Thank you once more.

If it’s not too much to ask, can you do something similar with a request I have in mind? Where they’re married and he’s having one of those “im falling for my wife.” or “she’s so pretty.” moments while she’s sleeping? Absentmindedly touching her hair and caressing her cheek? Basically some cute morning fluff, tooth rotting morning fluff. If it’s too much to ask, it’s alright. I understand. But truly thank you. 💗

EEEEK THIS IS SO CUTE.

Next To You

Tanjiro x fem reader

Nothing would make me happier

Synopsis: Morning cuddles, that’s it

Ever since Muzan had been defeated, everything had gone right for Tanjiro. Nezuko had turned back into a human, his friends lived together with him, they don’t have to work day and night for money, they have plenty of food on the table and a bountiful of happiness.

Deep down inside, Tanjiro had a growing pit of fear that everything that he had worked tirelessly upon would be taken away from him. In truth it wouldn’t be the first time for him. He was scared that one day his luck would run out and that familliar anguish would rain a snowstorm of despair back to his conscious. Everyday, no matter how mundane, he would be accompanied with these thoughts.

And it was the worst by the time Tanjiro asked your hand in marriage. He was fully convinced that it was truly the day that his luck would run out. It wasn’t out of his self inferiority, it was more in a way that he can’t imagine his dreams of being happy with you could actually come true.. he had everything already, even you as a precious companion. Is it right to be greedy? To want more?

But despite all his inner self quarrels he still asked you to marry him. Despite every standing obstacle, his love for you had overshadow all.

Though when he first uttered his proposal, he already felt guilty. Because when he did so you started crying. All sorts of thoughts ran through his mind seeing your tears spilling down your cheeks. Oh gods! Did he say something wrong?! What did he do?? Did you hated him so?..

As Tanjiro’s mind continues to run in circles, you managed to let out a few words.

“Nothing would make me happier” you stuttered all the way through your sentence, as you wiped away your tears.

What?

What did you say?

Despite his ruptured eardrums he still managed to hear you loud and clear. But he was still scared to make himself believe that happiness.

“Tanjiro??” You called out to him, he had been silent for a minute

“You..want to marry me?..” he was hesitant in letting himself hope

“Yes”. You stated, loud and clear for him to hear.

He couldn’t believe it. Was this real? He wasn’t still stuck in that train now was he?

“You do?!”he shouted.

“Yes!!” You shouted back.

The next thing you knew he was crying. He kneeled in front of you with tearful eyes and didn’t stop spouting about how he will make you happy and how he’ll love you forever. He sobbed as he hugged your waist tightly. Probably the tightest he had ever held you before. Only in that moment, the thoughts in his heart stopped tormenting him.

He still thinks of that day often. Especially when he is cuddled up beside you underneath your futon. You didn’t need to share a futon but you may or may not had lied about being really cold in the morning.

It was already noon, but he didn’t have the heart to wake you up. You deserve days where you can rest and sleep to your heart’s content. You worked hard for this peaceful life as much as he did afterall. Well he can’t argue wanting to admire you to his heart content wasn’t a part of his reason.

Back then he never thought he would be the lucky man to marry you. Now here he was building a life with you.

“My wife..” he said, smiling to himself as his heart swelled with glee. “Sometimes i just can’t believe it”

Tanjiro fell for you because of how strong you were. It was an undeniable admiration. Everyone could practically see how smitten he was everytime they saw the way he looked at you while you train. His eyes were glued to you like nothing else had matter. Your stance was firm, like nothing could bring you down. The way you strike was nothing short of a master’s work, like you could cut down any obstacle in your way. To him, you were outstanding. And he could not afford to pry his eyes off of you everytime he gets a chance to see you in action.

But that was what he thought then. Now, you don’t have an obligation to lift up a katana. You could just live your life and take a rest as much as you like. During these peaceful days was when Tanjiro saw another side to you. Something more gentle.

For example your sleeping form right now. Back then you would be the one who was waking him up for morning training. Now you could just sleep away your exhaustion from your previous nightly escapades.

He moved aside strands of hair that was covering your face. But his hand couldn’t help but linger for far too long.

“Beautiful” you are breathaking.

Tanjiro rest his head on his elbow to take a better look at you. Your relaxed expression was far different than your usual harden gaze accompanied with the faint sound of your breath that sounded melodic, serving as a reminder that you were still here. He never thought you could look so..precious.

“You’re not going anywhere, right?” He whispers, muttered underneath his breath.

He’s scared. Perhaps he’ll always be because family what happened to his family. But you’re still here right?

Tanjiro didn’t anticipate you to scooch in closer to embrace him in your sleep. The way you held him by his waist calmed his overflowing thoughts. He was glad he could have this life. He was glad he could live to be with you.

You’re still here

And other than that, in this proximity what else could you expect other than loads of kisses?

By the time you woke up, he probably already placed a kiss in every part of your face.

(A/N:sorry for the long wait anonym, i just figured out how to open my inbox lmao)

[inawickedlittletown]

All I Want For Christmas Is You (BuckTommy) - 6/8

Summary: When Buck and Tommy pick each other for the 118's Secret Santa, they both realize they know nothing about each other. That changes very quickly. Words: 3.1k Rating: M Read on Ao3 Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

-

Chapter Six

The next week was different. Buck wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed, because Tommy had just reverted back to just kind of ignoring Buck unless it was work related. They were never alone despite Buck trying to catch him on his own. When Buck had tried sending him a text it sat unread for days and then when Tommy did respond it was just to decline Buck asking if he’d want to go see a movie together. 

Buck knew when he wasn’t wanted. He knew when it was better to just cut his losses and move on. It happened to him often enough. There was just something about him that made people think they could do better, or that he just wasn’t worth all the trouble after a romp in the sheets. Tommy had come to that conclusion and Buck couldn’t fault him. So, he stayed away. There were more fishes in the sea and all that. 

At the very least, the time they’d spent together had given Buck a few options when it came to Secret Santa. Although, a part of him — a petty part — wanted to just go out of his way to make the present as mundane and useless as anything. 

He couldn’t quite convince himself to go that route. But, it wasn’t like Buck knew what he would get him. The one thing he was certain of was that once Christmas had come and gone that would be the end of it and he would stop letting his mind drift to thinking about Tommy yet again. Buck would go out and find someone else and just move on. It was what he did and it was what he was good at. 

When the week was over, Buck gave in to the impulse to just go out to a bar and see if he could do something to get Tommy out of his mind. He was barely there a few minutes before he left and wound up at the mall instead. 

Buck had a little over a week left and at least being as alone as he was did mean that Buck really only had to worry about getting something for Tommy. The worst of it was walking into a store and pinpointing things that would have worked perfectly to give to Chim or Hen or Bobby. Not so much for Tommy. 

Eventually, Buck wound up just going into a cafe to pick up some coffee and a snack. It reminded him of Tommy’s excitement for the cookies the other day. He had a feeling he was going to wind up just getting one of those chocolate gift sets as impersonal as it felt. At least Tommy would like that for sure which was something.

When he pushed the door to the cafe open on his way out, he almost ran right into Karen. 

“Oh. Karen, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “Fancy seeing you out and about.” 

“Secret Santa,” Buck said. “I still haven’t even figured out what to get so I’ve been browsing the mall.” 

Karen chuckled. “That’s right. Hen already has hers ready to go. Actually, I’m pretty sure she finished all her shopping. Clearly, I’m not done. I was thinking of going into the bookstore to see if I could find something for Hen. Want to join me?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Maybe something will pop out for me there,” Buck said. 

He ate the muffin he’d picked up at the cafe on the way, but was still holding his coffee when they arrived at the bookstore. 

The whole place had been decorated for the holidays. The window had a display with a small ceramic village complete with a tree and a train that went around the whole thing on a track. Lights and garland covered the shelves and on the door was a wreath made out of tiny felt books. 

At first he and Karen perused together. The store was not just books. They had a stationary area and a shelf full of travel mugs with quotes that probably came from books and next to that a rack that held tote bags. 

The shelves were arranged with signs and Buck wound up heading in the direction of the nonfiction. His first thought was to see if there was anything on art. Or, flying. He pulled out his phone to look at the picture he’d taken of Tommy’s bookshelf. No books on art, but a lot about flying. On closer inspection it looked like they were flight manuals rather than books on planes or helicopters. 

The bookstore did have a few books on different famous artists. DaVinci. Van Gogh. Picasso. Monet. Khalo. Buck couldn’t have been able to say much about any of them and he didn’t think that Tommy would actually have any use for biographies. So, Buck wandered the shelves. A LGBTQ+ section caught his eye. 

Buck had always considered himself an ally. He’d gone to LA Pride the year before. He never had a problem with anyone that identified differently be it their gender or sexual preferences, he just had never looked at himself and thought he could be more than the default. 

On the LGBTQ+ shelf there were plenty of novels, but some non-fiction as well. Self-help and essays and history. 

“Hey,” Karen said suddenly at his elbow. “Find anything?” 

“Oh. No. I don’t think a book is the right way to go.”

“But these caught your eye?” Karen asked. “Wait, did you get Hen as your Secret Santa? No, don’t tell me. I can’t know.” 

“I don’t have Hen,” Buck said. “I just—”

Buck had told Connor. Tommy knew, obviously. He hadn’t told anyone else. Karen though...she seemed like a safe bet to tell and yeah it might make it back to Hen, but Buck didn’t even really care about that. It might mean he didn’t have to say anything to Hen outright. 

“I’m bi, Karen,” Buck said. “It’s…um, it’s new.” 

Karen’s smile didn’t falter. “Wow. Thank you for telling me.” 

Buck took a breath. “I kissed a guy and it was like…like I realized I hadn’t been whole my entire life until then. I’ve always been an ally and now it’s…I guess I’m more. I’m bi.” 

“You certainly are, Buck,” Karen said. “Does that mean you’re seeing someone, then?” 

Tommy flashed in his mind. After that date and the glorious afternoon spent in Tommy’s bed they hadn’t spoken outside of work and Buck knew it was over before anything had even begun. Buck felt dumb for thinking that it could be more and that Tommy might give them a chance. He should have known better. 

“No,” Buck said and then grabbed a book at random. 

The cover was pink and it was apparently a romance novel. He put it back. He could feel Karen watching him. 

“I kissed a guy and we had sex a few times and I never told him that he was the first guy I was with and he basically ghosted me after that,” Buck said. 

It was mostly the truth. 

“Oh, you jumped right on in, then. Hen’s told me stories, but most people don’t do things at your pace.”

Buck hummed. “I guess not. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s over and I don’t think I’ll find anything in here for him.” 

Karen made a noise, but she started coughing. 

“I’ll pay for these,” she said.

Karen paid for the four books she’d picked up and Buck waited for her. 

“Hey, Buck, this does get easier and less confusing.” 

“I hope so.” 

-

He’d sketched Evan into the better half of a sketchbook. His hands. His face. A very rough one of his body while Tommy had been riding him. Other things too, Evan’s smile. His birthmark. Abstract things that were a reminder of Evan. He was clearly well rooted in Tommy in a way that would be hard to shake. Shake him, he would. 

The days following their date had been a little awkward. Tommy had even seen Chim and Hen sharing glances because Tommy had gone from talking to Evan a bit more and including him more to ignoring him again. 

“Did Buck do something to you?” Hen had asked one afternoon between calls. 

“No. He’s still the same impulsive kid.” 

“He’s definitely grown a bit,” Hen said. 

Tommy was glad when they had a call to get to. He wound up sitting next to Evan and was stiff the whole ride there. When they arrived on the scene Bobby paired them together he didn’t even blink. Evan had caught on by that point, at least, that Tommy wouldn’t talk to him. So, he didn’t try though his baleful glances struck Tommy to the heart. 

He and Evan went up the ladder that was extended out to the roof of the house, neither said a word and it felt like a blanket of tension had been laid atop them both. The man they were helping had injured his leg while putting lights on his roof. Even he seemed to sense the tension in the air as they helped to get him on a backboard to transport him down. 

Maybe it was unfair to freeze Evan out, but Tommy didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t get attached to Evan. He couldn’t be what Evan needed and there were already too many complications that would arise most because they worked side by side. It was better this way. He did hate the kicked puppy look that Evan got when Tommy pointedly ignored him, but Evan would get over it. Evan would go out and find himself some younger guy to get his rocks off with. That or some girl. Maybe a whole plethora of them if that was what he wanted. Tommy would always be the guy that helped him realize that he wasn’t straight, but that was about it. 

One day, they might even laugh and talk about it. Not any time soon though. 

Tommy did still call the guy with the wood carvings and asked about seeing his pieces again. Apparently the Christmas Market was still going, so Tommy drove over on his next day off. 

“Hey, I’m Tommy. We spoke on the phone.” 

“Right. Right. You were interested in something for a friend?” 

Tommy nodded and took a look around. A lot of the bigger pieces were way past the $50 limit but he did find a carving of a dog with a firefighter’s helmet. It was perfect. 

“This one,” Tommy said. 

It wouldn’t be enough, but Tommy had the start of a plan for the rest of Evan’s present. It might even serve as a way to break the ice between them again and put them on a path to being friends. He hoped. Otherwise, it might be awkward at work forever. 

“Thank you,” Tommy said when he was handed the wrapped package. 

“No problem. Hope your friend likes it.” 

He took a quick walk around the rest of the market, found himself buying cookies and this time a hot chocolate at that booth and then he found a tent that he and Evan hadn’t gotten to the last time or that hadn’t been there at all. A rainbow flag stuck out and Tommy found himself smiling a little. 

At one point in his life, he’d abhorred rainbows and everything they represented for him. He’d never wanted to be attached to it, to claim it for his own. Had believed for the longest time that he didn’t deserve the community it provided. Hell, Tommy had never even gone to a pride parade. It happened sometime when he started painting again, where a rainbow had snuck into a painting and then he was adding them where they worked, especially in a painting that was devoid of other color. It felt like finally allowing himself to be more open about himself, a way to accept that he was gay and nothing and no one could change that. 

He approached the tent and found a smiling man behind a small table that served as a counter. There was a display of different colored flags that Tommy couldn’t begin to assign, books on a small bookshelf and novelty t-shirts and tote bags and mugs. 

“Hello,” the man on the other side of the table said. “Looking for anything specific?” 

“Huh, not really. I’m buying for a Secret Santa. The guy I got just recently realized he’s bi.”

“Oh,” the man said. “Well we don’t have a welcome to being queer pack or anything, but you could give him one of our mugs or a book on queer history. There’s some informative ones, some funny ones. But, you know, just because he’s bi doesn’t mean his gift has to be about that.” 

Tommy could tell that there was a level of condescension in the tone and Tommy got it. He got what he looked like and how he passed for straight easily, that he’d leaned on that for a while, maybe so much that he never could be perceived otherwise. 

He picked up one of the mugs. It was cute and a quote he’d seen in a few places, “Harold, they’re lesbians”. Tommy chuckled and put it down again. A few just had a big rainbow going around them, some with gay or lesbian or bi or queer or trans written on them. Then, he saw one with each line in pink, purple, and blue: “Both. Both Is. Good”. On the other side it said: “Chaotic Bisexual”

“This is perfect for him,” Tommy said with a smile. 

Then, he spotted one with a cartoonish rainbow and “Yup, woke up GAY again”. 

“I’ll take this too,” Tommy said. 

The guy raised an eyebrow. 

“For myself,” Tommy said. 

He saw the man behind the counter nod, lips pressed tight. He was the type of guy that fit the stereotype. Someone that could never have hid his sexuality unless he was really trying and maybe he never had found himself in an environment where hiding was the best option. Some people were that lucky. 

He went to the books next. Several of the titles caught his eye including the flashy looking The LGBTQ+ History that told him Evan would have a kick reading. Then, he saw Bi The Way. He wound up picking both. Over the time he’d known Evan, he knew that Evan liked to deep dive into research about pretty random topics. He mostly did that online. The likelihood was that he’d already gone through every possible site on the internet, but these books would be quirky and fun.

“These too,” Tommy said. 

The man nodded. The mugs he’d put in individual boxes. He added everything into a small bag, but didn’t hand it over. 

“What?” Tommy asked. 

“I’m sorry. I just…I assumed you were just—”

“Just some cis straight guy,” Tommy said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I forget sometimes that the queer experience looks different for everyone. I hope your friend who just came out is glad he has you to help him along the way.” 

Except that Evan hadn’t actually needed that much help from him when it came to the discovery of his sexuality. He hadn’t asked Tommy a single question about being queer or about Tommy’s own history. It was a little unusual, that was for sure.  

He bought a gift bag at another tent and then when he got back home put every component of Evan’s gift inside. He left it right by his tree and he was almost sad to be done with it. His own mug he took into the kitchen. He placed it inside his cabinet and it looked out of place, but Tommy loved it. Maybe one day he would have another mug in there that belonged to someone that fit into Tommy’s life. He didn’t think it would happen, but it was possible. Maybe. 

He tried hard not to picture the mug he’d gotten Evan. That was definitely not going to happen. 

-

“Looks like someone was up all night,” Chim said. 

Buck didn’t even realize Chim was talking to him, but of course he was. And Buck had been up all night. He’d gone down a research spiral. It had started with him looking a little bit further into bisexuality and what it meant for him, but he’d started thinking about Tommy and then that had led straight into Buck just researching art supplies. 

Apparently there was a lot to learn. Not all paints and colored pencils were created equal. That went for brushes and pigments and clay and so many other things. Buck had seen Tommy’s art room twice and he’d noticed that Tommy had a lot of acrylic paint, brushes, and a cup that held pencils. Considering his sketches were all done in pencil, he didn’t think it’d be a bad idea to get him a set of good colored pencils. And so, Buck had gone on a research spiral, but he’d also managed to order some colored pencils and a few different sketchbooks. 

It didn’t seem like enough, but Buck figured with Christmas drawing closer it was better to have something ready to go than not. 

“You do have bags under your eyes, Buck,” Hen said. “Did you get any sleep?” 

“Some,” Buck said. “I’ll get a nap later.” 

Chim nudged his shoulder. “How hot was she to keep you up all night?” 

Buck felt his cheeks go warm. “There was no girl.” 

“Sure,” Chim said. 

“There wasn’t,” Buck said again. 

Tommy walked into the locker room. “What’s happening?” He asked and didn’t look in Buck’s direction. 

Buck felt the avoidance down to his bones. The worst of it was that Buck had never gotten stuck on someone the way he’d gotten stuck on Tommy and they hadn’t even gone on more than a single date. For a second Buck had thought maybe it was that it was a guy and new, but he knew deep down that it was Tommy. 

“Buck is being surprisingly mum about what he got up to last night,” Chim said. 

“Oh,” Tommy said. 

“Nothing. I got up to nothing but shopping for my Secret Santa,” Buck said and he turned so he could look directly at Tommy. “That and a bit of research. That’s all.” 

Tommy turned away. “We all know we would know all the details if Buck did hook up with anyone, wouldn’t we.”

“I did hook up with someone last week. Really hot,” Buck offered. 

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about that,” Hen said. 

Buck caught Tommy’s eye and he saw Tommy roll his eyes. Buck turned away and finished getting dressed. He didn’t say anything to any of them as he left the locker room and made his way up the stairs hoping that he could actually get a nap on the couch before a call came in. 

[hawkinshistoricalsociety]

ST5 Approximate Timeline

I've been taking notes on the pap photos, set reports, combined with the more official BTS photos we've been getting from Ross, Netflix, etc for a bit now, and I thought I'd take a pass organizing it into a timeline, based on character groups/outfits, locations, and times of day. None of this is "new" information but hopefully still interesting for people as an attempt to take a bigger picture view of the season. I've tried to include links to sources - definitely leaning a lot on the work of byrhop on X, will80sbyers here, and various Reddit users tracking this stuff. TY!

I tried to mostly stick to things we have visual confirmation for and not overly speculate/editorialize, just organize by probable timing. Of course some (or a lot) of this will be incorrect, but I wanted to share it as we enter the ST5 promo era and more "data points" emerge. I would love for feedback on what you think I've gotten right or wrong, and what I've missed. (aka someone please help me crack why multiple distinct character groups seem to go to the hospital and lab 45 separate times and also when tf does the WSQK van get outfitted with the antenna. I'm losing my mind)

I may keep this updated as new stuff comes out, or may tend to my Google Doc version and repost after the next round of promo. TBD!

Do not read this post if you are avoiding spoilers.

Pre-season flashbacks (during the first episode)

Steve and Jonathan work together on some wires/equipment, probably part of setting up the Radio Station (strangerwriters pre-viz)

Steve turns to look toward the camera and cocks his eyebrow (strangerwriters pre-viz)

Cold Open

Season cold open is a flashback to S1 Will in UD Castle Byers, probably before the Demogorgon takes him to the Library. Like all previous season cold opens, this likely will end on a “twist” that we won’t have full context for until mid- or late season. (strangerwriters script snippet, Ross Instagram)

Day 1 

Before/While the boys are at school

Mike (outfit #1) sits in his room at his desk, looking contemplative (Ross Instagram)

Karen cooks breakfast in the Wheeler kitchen, she and Joyce talk (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo)

Hopper, Joyce, and El train at the junkyard during the day (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo, Ross Instagram)

Joyce and Hopper are at Hopper’s trailer during the day (wearing the same outfits they did at the junkyard) (Stranger Things Day BTS photos)

Steve and Robin are at the Radio Station in the 20th “scene” of ep 1 (Ross Instagram)

Murray makes a delivery in the Bradley’s Big Buy truck to the Radio Station during the day, Jonathan, Nancy, and Joyce (outfits #1) are there. (pap photos)

Hopper (randomly seemingly in his second outfit) also shot radio station daytime exteriors that seem in line with Day 1, but maybe just with Joyce? (pap photos)

Nancy wears her pink sweater and jean jacket inside the Radio Station, opens a door (Ross Instagram)

School Day

Shot of students arriving at Hawkins High in the morning - there is a military presence outside (July BTS video)

Mike and Dustin have an encounter with the jock bullies outside the High School (pap photos)

Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas discuss something in the hallway (July BTS video)

In the cafeteria, Mike is listening to his radio and writing something down while Dustin, Lucas, and Will crowd around him (July BTS video)

Probably after school ends, the boys are at the picnic table in the woods outside the high school. Mike initiates a hand stack with Lucas, Will, and Dustin (July BTS video) 

While the other boys are talking at the picnic table, Will experiences something supernatural (probably an early S2-style “True Sight episode,” per Reddit user kauan1983 here) and walks away, ending up at Hawkins Middle School. He looks at something in the Middle School hallway with his hand on the back of his neck. Mike and Lucas run into the school after him. (July BTS video)

Scenes at the elementary school with Holly and Derek, their class is reading A Wrinkle In Time (pap reports, photos)

After School

Lucas visits Max, still comatose, at the hospital, holds her hand (<3). There is a radio/tape player next to her bedside and the Hounds of Love cassette tape (Ross Instagram)

Mike, Will, and Holly bike by the military compound in downtown Hawkins on their way to the Wheelers’. Mike's radio is affixed to his handlebars (this could also be in the morning, going from Wheeler House to school - especially if the Byers are at the Wheelers' in the morning for some reason) (pap photos)

At dusk, Dustin bikes to the cemetery and the jocks harass him at Eddie’s vandalized grave (Ross Instagram, July BTS video, pap photos)

Radio Station

Mike, Will go to Radio Station from either school or Wheelers’, meet up with Joyce, Hopper, Robin, Steve, Jonathan, El; Dustin, Lucas eventually join them

Mike and El talk on the radio station roof during the day or at dusk, Mike appears to be cheering up or encouraging El. They seem to get interrupted and both look with concern out toward the field. El yells something to someone on the ground? (pap photos, video, video 2)

Nancy, Robin, Joyce, El, Will (maybe Mike behind the group). El says "there's too many," shot ends on Will looking worried (Ross Instagram) *Feel like this has to be at the radio station around here with this grouping? IDK. is this related to why El and Hopper may not be at the group meeting?

Group meeting in the Radio Station basement bunker where Will and Joyce seem to present to Jonathan (maybe also presenting, seated at projector), Robin, Steve, Nancy, Mike, Lucas (no Hopper/El?). Nancy in candy striper outfit, so either coming from or ready to go to Hospital (July BTS video)

Joyce and Robin look at the fuse box in the dark Radio Station basement (July BTS video)

Night 1, leaving Radio Station

Will on bike at the high school track at night (Ross Instagram, placed here bc it was very early weeks of filming though that’s not necessarily a real indicator) (is this a vision or a flashback? Or could be related to the “Will is having nightmares and waking up across town” leak from here)

At night, Lucas and Mike leave the Radio Station on bikes (both outfits #1), maybe go to the Wheelers (Stranger Things Day BTS) (did they know about the attack, or were they just going home?)

Jonathan (outfit #1) drives in the WSQK van (no antenna) downtown at night. Steve and Nancy rumored to be there but we don’t have pics (pap photos/reports)

Wheeler House

Karen takes a bubble bath and drinks wine (Ross Instagram Weeks 9-10, StrangerThingsTV Instagram)

Lights flash in Holly’s room as she crouches on the ground (she's still in outfit #1) (July BTS video)

Holly looks upset/afraid in the Wheelers' kitchen (July BTS video)

At night, there is an attack at the Wheeler House, Karen is injured and Holly is taken (prop leak, rumors)

(approx. ep 1 / ep 2 break)

Night 1: Someone is transported to Hospital in an ambulance, likely Karen from the Wheeler House. Exterior hospital lights flicker (pap photos/videos)

Day 2

Hospital

Karen, Mike, Nancy, Joyce, Jonathan, Will, Lucas, Robin, Steve, Vickie filmed at the hospital, seemingly for this visit but maybe not all of them (doubles descriptions)

Inside the hospital, Nancy looks at Mike with concern. Mike turns to look at something off-camera. Time of day and their outfits are unclear (July BTS feature)

During the day, Robin spends time in Hospital room #110. Vickie is present. *This could also be Day 1, but that seems like a lot of hospital back and forth (StrangerThingsNetflix Instagram photo)

There may be an attack at the Hospital based on set photo of a bloody shoe, probably Joyce’s, where you can see the hospital floor (Ross Instagram)

Episode 2 / Day 2 daytime currently a real black box as far as I can tell, especially if the ep 1 cliffhanger is the attack on the Wheelers. I’m going to slot in a lot of military with kids stuff here - particularly if Holly is actually taken by the military, and not anything supernatural/directly UD related (what I’m currently leaning toward)

Steve’s car gets outfitted with the antenna? Dustin is pretty MIA in this zone, let's guess he's involved

Maybe El and/or Hopper do a lil trip to the UD because El at least was definitely filming UD scenes in Feb (also in the July BTS video) that I haven’t slotted in anywhere definitive but since they end up right back there ca. ep 4 that feels weird to me? If Holly is taken into the UD, maybe El and/or Hopper go right after her.

(approx. ep 2 / ep 3 break)

Radio Station during the day

Nancy (in her candy striper dress), Jonathan (outfit #1), and Steve (outfit #1) stand near the Wheeler station wagon outside the Radio Station. There are bikes in the back of the car. Coming from hospital? (Netflix filiming wrap BTS photos, confirmed to be ep 3)

Turnbow Mansion

There may be daytime scenes, probably in an earlier ep, with Derek in not his rainbow sweater, and Mrs. Turnbow in athleisure (pap photos)

The Turnbows (mom, dad, teen daughter) walk into their home around dusk (pap photos)

Erica, looking very formal in a white collar with black bowtie, eats dinner with the Turnbows (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo)

Lucas, wearing his jacket and with his backpack on, stands at the foot of the stairs to the second floor while the lights flicker (July BTS video)

Steve’s car (w/ antenna) gets to the Mansion first, then the WSQK van (no antenna) arrives at dusk driven by Joyce, with un-IDed stand-in in the passenger seat (adult man, Hopper or Jonathan or Murray? IDK) in passenger seat (pap photos, pap photos 2, pap photos 3, pap photos 4)

Robin, Steve, Mike, and Jonathan are in the Turnbows’ garage. Sneaking in? (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo)

At night, Will is outside the Mansion in his second outfit (pap photos)

Nancy and El are reported to have filmed at the set, but we don’t have pics. (pap reports, pap reports 2)

Radio Station at Night

From the Mansion, at least some of the gang drives to Radio Station (versus directly to Farm).  Putting here based on the fact that Frank Darabont was directing and this was a night shoot, so logically seems to slot in after the mansion.

There is an action scene at the Radio Station at night, maybe involving both supernatural & military. Will is on roof in his second outfit, and Steve, Jonathan, and Dustin are there. A male voice screams at Steve to run (pap video, pap photos)

(approx. ep 3 / ep 4 break)

Mike, Joyce, Will, and Lucas are in the Radio Station bunker in their second outfits (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo, confirmed episode 4)

The military invades the Radio Station, with Alex Breaux’s character leading the strike team (July BTS video)

El stands in front of some blinds in an industrial-looking storage room with wood paneling, probably inside the Radio Station. Sarah’s hair tie is around her wrist but fraying. (Ross Instagram, July BTS video, Netflix filming wrap BTS photo, confirmed episode 4)

Steve’s Car in the UD

In their second outfits, Steve, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy enter the UD at the McCorkle Farm while in Steve’s car (outfitted with an antenna on the roof), probably at night. They scream as they move between dimensions, and the car seems to be falling. (Ross Instagram Weeks 15-19, strangerwriters pre-viz).  *This likely happens at the end of Day 2, since these four were not spotted at the farm during the day AFAIK - if they all arrive at the Farm during nighttime on Day 2, maybe the Steve car group goes right to the UD

While in the UD, Steve, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy (with a gun over her shoulder) stand together looking into the distance while red lightning flashes (July BTS video)

Steve and Dustin explore a vine-covered interior somewhere institutional, probably the UD Lab (July BTS video, Netflix filming wrap BTS photo) *this happens in ep 6 bc Shawn Levy is directing, but grouping here with the Steve car UD stuff for now

In the UD, Steve’s car speeds toward Roane Hill Cemetery (pap video)

El and Hopper in the UD

During military attack on Radio Station, Hopper and El steal a humvee, then end up in the UD (and maybe picked up a kid? lol another moving piece I cannot get a handle on) (pap photos, video, July BTS video)

Hopper is in the UD with a gun (July BTS video)

El is at the UD Lab (Millie Instagram photos)

Day 3

McCorkle Farm (Right Side Up)

WSQK van (no antenna) is maybe at the farm at night (Ross Instagram)

Erica, Derek, Mike (outfit #2), Will (outfit #2), Robin (outfit #2), Joyce (outfit #2), Karen (not photographed), and Lucas (not photographed) are at the farm during the day (pap video, BTS photo, Cara Instagram, pap reports)

Robin and Derek are inside the barn, maybe at night (Ross Instagram)

Derek’s Transformers sheets and GI Joe lunchbox (maybe with a bullet hole) are at the farm (Ross Instagram)

Derek and Erica stand next to each other inside the barn. Erica is wearing the same sweater she wore at the Mansion, but no longer has on the collar. Time of day is unclear (July BTS video)

Mike carries a shovel and walks with Will at dusk (tunnel time?) (Noah Instagram)

At some point around here, there is a flashback to a 13 yo Jonathan with 8yo Mike and Will. Young Mike is the only one with lines. Is this part of a Will vision? (casting call)

Downtown

Murray and Robin (second outfit) drive the Bradley’s truck downtown at night (Netflix filming wrap BTS photo, confirmed to be ep 4)

Maybe Day 3 night: Robin, Mike go through tunnels to rescue kids (including Derek) from Downtown Hawkins military barracks at night (Maya script leak) *How does Derek end up at the military compound so soon after the Farm if this is here (unless he goes with them? weird)...I cannot figure this one out...

(approx. ep 4 / 5 break) 

Days 4-???

Hospital

Robin (outfit #2) follows ambulance to Hospital, driving Joyce’s car with Lucas (WSQK sweatshirt). They’re being pursued by the military and the yellow Beetle drives behind them (daytime). Blue and yellow bikes are parked outside (pap video, pap video, video 2, video 3)

The hospital is evacuated and lights flicker. The employees stand outside (pap video, video 2, photos)

*Nancy’s double (in candy striper outfit) might be there but Robin in her Farm outfit and Lucas in the WSQK sweatshirt make me think if that is Nancy and not another candy striper with similar hair, that may be for a different, ep2-ish scene? But IDK. (pap video, pap photo of the Wheeler station wagon on set)

(approx. ep 5 / 6 break) 

Hospital interior: Lucas, Demogorgon or creature SFX stand-ins (Shawn Instagram)

Various ep 6 locations

Radio Station interior: Lucas, Joyce, Robin, Dustin, El (Shawn Instagram 1, Shawn Instagram 2, Shawn Instagram 3) *Dustin and El both seemingly here is extremely confusing to me. I kinda don't know what to do with this one

High School exteriors/the track, maybe at dusk (Shawn Instagram 2)

During the day, Murray is outside in his Bradley’s jacket, talking into a radio (Shawn Instagram)

Mike (in his second outfit) is at Hopper’s Cabin, maybe during the day (Shawn Instagram)

First Baptist Church (UD)

Night shoots at the vine-covered First Baptist Church: Vecna, Hopper, El, Linda Hamilton, military, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan, maybe Dustin all reported to be on set but no pics of anyone except Hopper AFAIK. Will rumored during a separate, later shoot (pap reports, filming rumors)

An old timey car at the church set indicates a likely Vecna flashback (pap photos)

Steve’s car arrives at the Church (pap video)

Hopper drives the military humvee to the Church (pap photo, video)

See Part 2 here!