#got more copies of all of those and many more besides!!

[imsandra]

A breath

Pairing: Azriel x female reader

Summary: In the silent embrace of the night, Azriel found in Y/N the comfort he never knew he needed.

Warning: Fluffy comfort, I think that's it.

Word count: 1120

Notes: I believe many creators have written similar pieces, so this may not be a new concept. Feel free to leave your comments, suggestions; everything is welcome as long as it's with the intention of teaching and with respect.

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

Original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.

I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.

Happy reading!

Master list

The night in Velaris always had something special, but this one, in particular, felt magical. The gentle murmur of the Sidra River, the mild air filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and the clear sky full of stars that seemed to shine only for those willing to observe them closely.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind. He had had one of those long days, the kind where the exhaustion wasn’t just physical but emotional too. Azriel had spent hours training the Illyrians, dealing with disputes, and making sure everything ran smoothly in the Night Court.

Y/N had seen him enter, his posture stiff, and the shadows around him more restless than usual. Since they had begun spending more time together, she had learned to read him, to notice when he was tired or when something bothered him, even if he never said it. That night, however, something inside her told her that Azriel needed more than just company; he needed someone to care for him for once.

Without a word, Y/N followed him to the sitting room where Azriel usually sat after his missions or training, right next to the large window that offered a panoramic view of the city. He was there, staring out at the horizon, the stars reflecting in his golden eyes, but without his usual spark.

With a soft smile, Y/N entered and walked up to him. She sat beside him in silence, respecting his need for quiet. She didn’t need to ask what was wrong; she knew him well enough to know he would speak if he wanted to.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she suddenly got up and said, "I’ll be back in a moment."

Azriel watched her leave the room without asking where she was going. In his mind, the shadows kept whispering, but there was something about Y/N’s presence that calmed them slightly. She always made him feel less alone, less lost.

A little while later, Y/N returned with a cup of hot tea in her hands and a couple of blankets. Without asking, she offered him the tea and then draped one of the blankets over his legs.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Azriel asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/N shrugged, smiling. "Taking care of you. You look exhausted."

Azriel took the cup of tea, surprised by how comforting such a simple gesture could be. No one usually took care of him like that. He was always the one looking out for others, the one protecting, the one watching over his loved ones from the shadows. But with Y/N... she made him feel like someone worthy of being cared for.

Y/N sat back down beside him, wrapping herself in a blanket, and gently snuggled up against him. At first, Azriel tensed reflexively, but then he relaxed when she intertwined her fingers with his, softly caressing his scarred hand. Though he hated the scars for the horrible memories they brought him, Y/N didn’t feel the same. To her, they were part of his story.

The touch was so light, so intimate, that it surprised him how much it soothed him.

"Do you feel better?" she whispered, without looking directly at him, her focus on the nighttime view of Velaris.

Azriel gently squeezed her hand in response. "Yes... much better," he answered softly.

The peace he had been searching for all day, the calm he so longed for, he found there, in that moment, sitting next to Y/N, with her hand in his and her warmth comforting him.

"You know," Y/N continued in a low voice, "you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You can rest, lean on someone every now and then."

Azriel remained silent for a moment, his thoughts deep. Y/N’s words resonated with him in a way that few things ever did. He was so used to being the shield for everyone else, to protect and care, that he rarely allowed himself to be vulnerable, even for a moment.

"Thank you," he finally whispered, his voice full of sincerity. "For this. For... taking care of me."

Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her smile soft and understanding. "I’ll always do it, Az. Anytime you need it," she told him, a promise between them.

Azriel turned to her, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, something inside him broke, in the most beautiful way possible. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply, letting her closeness envelop him completely.

They remained like that, together in the stillness, simply enjoying the peace they had found in each other. For Azriel, it was a reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable, that he didn’t always have to be strong—at least not with Y/N. And for her, it was a moment of tenderness, knowing that, although Azriel was a warrior in the shadows, in her arms he would always have a place to rest.

"Come," Y/N said softly, shifting a bit and pulling him down. "Let’s relax a little more."

Azriel let her guide him, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa as she nestled at his side, resting her head on his chest. His wings instinctively moved to wrap around them, creating a warm, protective barrier.

"I promise tomorrow will be better," Y/N whispered, her fingers gently playing with the dark strands of Azriel’s hair.

Azriel smiled for the first time all day, his hand softly caressing Y/N’s back. "With someone like you by my side, it will be."

Y/N kissed his cheek, and the spymaster blushed.

Under the blankets, under the night’s veil and the shelter of Azriel’s wings, they both found comfort in each other. A shared peace that didn’t need grand words or elaborate gestures—just a simple promise to always be there for one another.

*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.

A/N: After an angst-filled Azriel x reader it's only fair to have a fluffy one. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry it was short, let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I’ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[queerliblib]

you may be noticing (some of!) your holds coming in quicker than expected

(we just dropped a fairly obscene amount of money buying more copies of many titles with long hold times)

xoxo, QLL

[requiemforthepoets]

he drives me crazy, it’s so beyond me 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x fewtrell!reader

SUMMARY: you’ve been hating on lando for a very long time now, since you were kids to be exact. only to realize that those hatred is only a mask for what you truly feel for him.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i’ve been on a slump lately, have so many works unfinished but i don’t really have the drive to finish them lol but my break from uni is near, so maybe i’ll get the motivation to finish all of it. for the meantime, hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

WARNINGS: typos, cursing, and playboy lando

Growing up being Max’s younger sister meant that you were always surrounded by his friends, and none of them irritated you more than Lando Norris. From the very beginning, something about Lando rubbed you off the wrong way. Though you had never understood why, there was something—an inexplicable annoyance that only grew stronger with time.

As kids, you tolerated him, well mainly because Max adored him and that they are racing karts together. You can’t just tell Max to stay away from Lando for no apparent reason, that would make look like an absolute ass. But as you all grew up, Lando’s behavior began to infuriate you even more, and it just got worse when he got to F1. He began dating girls and moving on as quickly as the seasons changed, never seeming to care about the trail of broken hearts he left behind. It wasn’t just his carefree attitude towards relationships or life in general; it was the way he would tease you every fucking chance he gets. If you tripped over a pebble or on air, he’d make a joke about it. Making fun of every little thing that he would notice about you. You just couldn’t stand it, and you couldn’t stand him and his whole existence.

But somewhere along the line, something strange started to happen. With all the teasing and eye rolls, you found yourself paying a little too much attention to him. Too much for your liking. It was almost as if you were noticing the first time how his aquamarine eyes sparkled everytime he laughed, or how his curly hair seemed to suit him perfectly. It made you mad—so fucking mad that you wanted to scream. How could you, of all people, start to like Lando Norris? Your public enemy number one.

Then the realization hit you like a shit ton of bricks. You were developing a massive crush on the one person you were supposed to hate. Surprised by the sudden realization, and you being you, instead of acknowledging it, you decided to bury it deep down, covering it with even more layers of loathing. If he said something stupid, which he always does, you’d snap back at him twice as hard. If he smiled that cocky grin, you’d glare daggers at him. But inside, your heart would be pounding, and it drove you crazy. It’s pretty much a fucking miracle that you have been able to stay sane.

One day, after a particularly annoying comment from Lando about your choice of outfit, you finally snapped. “You know, Lando, if I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it. But I didn’t, so why don’t you just keep your mouth shut for once?” Then you rolled his eyes at him. You’re going out today, you don’t need this kind of negativity. “Besides, don’t you have your own fucking house? Why are you even here?”

Lando grinned, clearly enjoying how riled up you were. “I’m just saying, those shoes look like something a hobo would wear.”

You groaned in frustration. “God, you’re such an asshole, Norris! Do you ever stop to think before you speak?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He shot back, winking at you.

You felt your cheeks flush, and not from anger. You wanted to punch him, but at the same time, there was this insane urge to grab him by the collar and kiss him just to shut him up. But instead, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the room, muttering under your breath about how he was the most annoying person on the planet.

But then there were those moments when you saw the other side of Lando, the one that made your heart ache in a way you couldn’t even fucking explain. Like the time when he won his first race in Miami. The whole crowd erupted in cheers, everyone was celebrating his win and you found yourself smiling as he won his first race, a huge smile on his face as he celebrated. Your first instinct was to run up to him and give him a hug and tell him how proud you were. But then, almost immediately, you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck for making you feel this way. He had a unique talent for pushing all your buttons, and yet, no one could make you feel the way he did.

After the race, you all went out to celebrate, and as usual, Lando couldn’t resist teasing you. “Come on, admit it, you were impressed, weren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smile from tugging at the corners of your lips. “You were okay, I guess,” you said nonchalantly.

“Okay? Just okay?” Lando feigned hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. “I expected more from my biggest hater.”

“Well, don’t expect me to start fangirling over you now,” you shot back, though your heart wasn’t really in it.

Lando just playfully winked at you, and excused himself, walking away and waving at someone else. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to admit it. To finally confess that maybe the reason why you hated Lando so much was because you love him in a way that no one else could. But you quickly dismissed that thought, shaking your head. There was no way you’d ever let him know how much he affected you. Not when he had the power to break your heart with a single word.

As the night went on, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. He was the center of attention, as always, and yet, for a moment, his eyes caught yours, and he smiled. Not a teasing grin that he would always send your way, but a genuine, warm smile. It made your stomach do flips, and you quickly looked away, mentally cursing yourself for being so weak.

In the middle of the night, you found yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the day’s events in your mind. You hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he made you feel things you didn’t want to feel. It was maddening, infuriating, it drives you nuts, and yet…you couldn’t stop thinking about him. How was it possible to love and hate someone so much at the same time? You didn’t know. You don’t have an answer for the lingering questions in your mind and it drove you crazy.

“Why him?” You whispered to yourself that night, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. “Out of all the fucking people in the world, why does it have to be him?”

You knew Lando could be a major asshole, but somehow, he was your asshole. No one else could make you feel this crazy mix of anger, frustration, and affection all at once, and despite all the annoyance, deep down, you knew you loved him. It made you mad, and yet, in some twisted way, it also made sense. No one else could make your heart race like Lando did, that can make you feel so alive, so frustrated, so utterly confused—and most importantly, no else could break your heart like Lando Norris, and you were beginning to think that maybe, you didn’t want anyone else to.

It has been three months since Lando’s first win, but the tension between the two of you hadn’t eased. In fact, it felt like it was growing stronger, pulling you into a confusing spiral of emotions. It was one of those days that you were grateful enough that you were back in uni, and have to forget about him even for a short period of time.

Though it didn’t last long, you can’t stay and hide in uni forever. So here you were, officially back home for a break, and you decided to stay at Max’s for the time being. Prior to arriving from uni, Max had already asked you if you wanted to come with them on their holiday trip, but you passed on it, making up some silly excuse and wanting to get the rest you need since you haven’t had the proper rest back when you were in uni. You wanted to avoid being in the same place with him as much as possible, you definitely don’t trust yourself to keep up the charade of hating him when your heart was screaming the exact opposite.

It was when they’re already back from their trip, and as usual, Lando is at Max’s place. You found yourself in exactly in the situation you’d been dreading. Max had invited Lando over to help him with something, and you figured you could just stay in your room, far away from the inevitable teasing from him. But when Max suddenly had to leave to deal with some urgent matter, you were stuck. It was just you and Lando, alone in the living room, with a show neither of you cared about playing in the background.

Lando being Lando, of course he wasted no time in getting into your nerves. “So, how long are you planning to hide up there?” He asked, his tone annoyingly casual as he sprawled out on the couch.

“I was not hiding,” you retorted, focusing on your phone and pretending he wasn’t there.

“Sure, you’re not,” he said with a smirk. “You’ve been acting pretty weird lately. You didn’t even come to the trip that we invited you on. Is everything alright?”

You nearly choked on your words. How could you even begin to explain what was wrong—that you were utterly terrified of how much you liked him? That every time he teased you, your heart skipped a beat instead of fuming with anger? That you couldn’t fucking stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied, hoping he couldn’t see the turmoil behind your eyes. God, you just wanted for this conversation to end or better yet, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.

“Uh-huh,” Lando said, clearly unconvinced. He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. “Oh my god, why do you even care?” You shot back defensively. “You’re just here to annoy me, right? So why don’t you just go call someone and bother them instead?”

Lando’s smirk faded slightly, and he studied you with an intensity that made you uncomfortable. “You think I just want to annoy you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, frustrated by his persistent questioning. “That’s what you’ve always done ever since, isn’t it?”

Lando shook his head, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him. “No. Not really.”

The shift in his demeanor threw you off balance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his beautiful curly hair that you want to touch so badly. “It means that maybe I didn’t just do it to annoy you. Maybe there was another reason.”

You blinked, your mind racing to keep up. “What reason?”

Lando sighed, leaning back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. “God, this is harder than I thought,” he muttered to himself before finally looking at you. “Look, I’ve known you since forever. Yeah, I used to tease you because you were Max’s younger sister and it was fun. But somewhere along the way, it wasn’t just about teasing anymore. I think I did it because…I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you saying, Lando?”

“I’m saying that maybe I’ve had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “And I’ve been acting like an idiot because to be fairly honest, I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

You stared at him in utter shock, your brain struggling to process what he’d just said. All this time, you thought your feelings were unrequited, that he was just being his usual annoying self, but now, everything was different. The anger, the frustration, the confusion—it all made sense now.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, still reeling from his confession. “Honestly.”

Lando smiled softly, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know. I get it if you don’t feel the same way, or if you’re too mad at me for being a jerk all these years. But I wanted to be completely honest with you for once.”

The room was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Lando, I—“

But before you could finish, Lando suddenly stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “You know what? I can’t fucking take it anymore.” And with that, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you, pulling you into a kiss that was both urgent and tender at the same time.

For a split second, you were too shocked to respond. But then, your body seemed to take over, and you found yourself kissing back, all the frustration and anger melting away in the warmth of his embrace. It felt like everything you’d been holding back, all the mixed emotions you’d been burying, finally broke free. When Lando finally pulled back, you were both breathless, staring at each other in stunned silence.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, your voice shaky.

“Because I’ve wanting to do it for a long fucking time,” Lando admitted, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “And because I couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me for real.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t hate you, Lando. I…I think I might be falling for you, and it’s terrifying to tell you honestly.”

Lando grinned, his usual cocky demeanor returning. “Well, that’s a relief. Because I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between you dissolving into something warmer, something that felt a lot like hope.

“You’re still an asshole, though.”

“And you’re still a pain in the ass,” Lando shot back, his grin widening.

This time, there was no venom behind your words, no hidden frustration like it was used to. Instead, there was a new understanding between you—a mutual acknowledgment that maybe the thing you’d both been fighting against all these years was exactly what you needed. When Lando leaned in to kiss you again, you realized that no one else could make your heart race like he did, and no one else could make you as crazy or as happy.

However, Lando’s confession and that unexpected kiss did leave you feeling more confused as ever. As much as you wanted to believe in the moment, in the warmth of his touch and softness of his lips, a familiar fear gnawed at the back of your mind. After all, this is Lando Norris that you’re talking about—the guy who seemed to switch girlfriends at lightning speed. You’d seen him charm his way through countless girls, only to move on without any second thought. The idea of being just another name on his list made your chest tighten with fear and anxiety.

As you sat still, still close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, Lando looked at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for you to say something. But instead of responding with the excitement that was bubbling up inside you, all you could think about were the stories, the rumors, and the heartbreaks you’d witnessed.

“Lando,” you began, moving away slightly, creating a small but significant distance between you and him on the couch. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” His smile faltered, concern creeping into his eyes.

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words that won’t hurt him. “Because…” you trailed off, “I know you, Lando. I know your way with girls. Yes, I can’t deny the fact that you’re very charming and sweet when you want to be, but the way you get bored and move on quickly scares me. I…I don’t think I can handle being just another girl you get tired of.” You breathed out.

Lando’s expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand, but you hesitated. He noticed this right away and dropped his hand to his side.

“I get why you’d think that. I haven’t exactly been the most reliable guy when it comes to relationships, am I?” You nodded and he chuckled, “but this…this is different.”

“Is it?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or are you just saying that because I’m here and it’s convenient?”

Lando shook his head, gaze so intense that you might melt and turn into a puddle any second. “It’s not like that, I promise. I know I’ve messed up before, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone. You’re not just another girl, and I’m not just saying that. I’m really serious about you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the fear of getting your heart broken, of being left behind like so many others, made it hard to fully trust his words.

“But what if you get bored? What if this is just a phase for you, and once you’ve had your fun, you move on to someone else?”

He looked at you with an earnestness that you weren’t used to seeing him. “I can’t blame you for being scared. But the truth is, I’m scared too. I’m scared because I’ve never wanted someone so much, something to work out this badly. I don’t want to mess this up. I know I have a reputation, but I don’t want that to be who I am with you. I want to be better—for you.”

You stared at him, your heart warring with your head. Could he really mean what he was saying? Was it possible that he could change, that you could be the one he was serious about? But even as the doubts swirled around you, there was a part of you that desperately wanted to take the leap, to believe that maybe this could be different.

“I don’t know if I can handle getting hurt,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that.”

Lando took a deep breath, his expression sincere. “I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect, but I can promise that I’ll try my best not to hurt you.” He said, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear, “I care about you too much to let that happen. But if you don’t want to take the risk, I’ll understand. I’ll back off if that’s what you want.”

You could see the honesty in his eyes, the vulnerability he rarely showed. It made your heart ache, knowing that he was giving you the power to decide where this would go. It would be easy to walk away, to protect yourself from the possibility of pain. But then again, what if he was telling the truth, what if this was real.

“No, I don’t want you to back off,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the nerves twisting in your stomach. “But I need time, Lando. I need to see that you’re serious before I can let myself fall for you completely.”

Lando nodded, relief washing over his face. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

You smiled, feeling a bit of the tension ease, though the uncertainty still lingered. “Good. Because I’m not sure I could handle it if you did.”

As the two of you sat side by side on the couch, the show was still playing in the background, the atmosphere between you had shifted. There was no rush, no need to force anything. It was just the two of you, slowly navigating the complicated mess of emotions that came with falling for someone who scared you as much as they made you feel alive, and maybe that this was the start of something real.

[elssero]

project partner

k.bakugo

-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..

maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.

it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.

you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.

“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”

wait what?

oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.

you did not like bakugo. not one bit.

you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.

at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.

you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.

however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.

sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.

you didn’t like him. not at all.

staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.

after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.

you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.

he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.

you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.

the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-

“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.

“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”

it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.

“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”

you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.

“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”

that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.

deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.

it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.

the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.

“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.

“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.

“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.

“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.

you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.

it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.

you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.

“wait your right…” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.

“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.

“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.

the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.

dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.

making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.

for fucks sake.

it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.

you nearly make it out- your so close.

“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.

“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.

what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.

“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.

“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.

“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.

“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“

“you should eat more.”

you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.

“goodnight bakugo.”

you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.

the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.

you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.

you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.

why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.

you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.

you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.

it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.

your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.

“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.

scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.

that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”

“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.

you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.

it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.

your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.

“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.

“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.

“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.

“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?

“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.

“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?

why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?

you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.

somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.

you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.

maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.

his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?

maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.

forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.

you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.

your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.

you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.

opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”

it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.

your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?

in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.

“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.

he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.

“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.

“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.

you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”

his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.

“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.

it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.

you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.

he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.

the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.

“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.

“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.

he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.

it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.

“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.

“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.

did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?

“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.

“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.

“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.

“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.

“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.

“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.

“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?

“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.

“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.

“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.

“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”

you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.

you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.

“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”

he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“right.”

he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.

he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.

he loved you- he had for years.

and you completely hated him.

[famwhy]

Bereavement (2)

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)

Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.

Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.

"Y/N!"

It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.

That was your first mistake.

Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.

Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.

"Y/N!"

You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.

Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.

So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.

When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."

So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—

"I've got you, cariño."

—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.

His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.

...okay, very flustered.

"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")

You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.

Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.

"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."

"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

"Miles—"

"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."

"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"

"Of course, mamí."

"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."

As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.

"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."

Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.

"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."

"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"

You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.

"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.

"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."

Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.

His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.

Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.

"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."

The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.

"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"

"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."

"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."

For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"

"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"

The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...

"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"

...or was there?

@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma

[haruka-norikoyo]

Biggest Fan

Monoma Neito x reader | Soulmate AU

The gasp I’ve gusped (yes past tense to the fourth dimension) when I thought of this scenario. Mild spoilers for the end of the manga.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fourth birthday is a momentous occasion in one’s life. Not only is it the year where most develops their quirk, it is when one is assigned a soulmate.

No one knows whether it is a quirk or something entirely foreign. Many believe there is divine power at play. Because, after all, how can one have such power? It is a phenomenon which extends throughout the entire world. On a person’s right wrist appears the first words that their soulmate says to them. When those words have been uttered, they simultaneously disappear, and they now know their soulmate.

Monoma Neito got his quirk before his words. It’s not unusual, just rather rare to be an early bloomer. Normally, developing a quirk early would invite excitement and respect. “You can’t be a hero with a quirk like that.”

He’d copied another kid’s quirk, excitedly showing it off to his friends. But quirks are unique to oneself, aren’t they? Something to take pride in because only you can do it. So for someone else to be able to do it too?

“That’s something a side character would have.”

He stopped showing it off to other kids after that. Though, before he knew it, it was his birthday. Neito never understood what’s so exciting about getting random words on his wrist and someone he’ll be stuck with for the rest of his life. He’s a kid, after all. Getting his quirk was much more interesting to him. But after the response he got, he doesn’t get his hopes up.

All his relatives were eagerly checking his wrist for the soulmate words. It honestly was a little suffocating to be crowded the whole day with “do you have it yet?”. He can’t wait for it to be over.

Then, a gasp. He turns to see his mom pointing at his wrist. “Neito, your words!”

“Oh,” he glances down. Now that it’s here, he can't help but be a little curious. “Excuse me, Phantom Thief? I’m your biggest fan!”

His eyes widen, but before he could properly think about what it entails, he’s surrounded by everyone at the party. All of them eager to see what his match would tell him in their first meeting.

***

The next time he saw the kids who said he’ll be nothing but a side character, he rubs it in their faces.

“Look at this! My soulmate calls me Phantom Thief in our first meeting. That means I’ll be a pro hero— and what’s that? I already have a fan.”

“That— that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Yeah! It’s probably your name for a comedy show or something!”

But their words don’t reach him. He has a fan. Sure, it’s his soulmate, them being his biggest fan is a given, but still. Someone out there will be watching him. “Hahaha! Envy me all you want— my soulmate loves me way before we ever meet!”

***

“You’re still banking on your soulmate’s words?” Is something he heard numerous times, especially when he made it known he signed up for UA high school. Standing amongst other examinees, he wonders if his soulmate is there too. Maybe they’re already watching him. He shakes his head. No, they call me by my hero name. I won’t meet them until I become a pro hero…

He looks up at the big gates of the practical examination, his lips forming a smile as he discreetly copies the quirk of the examinee beside him. Looks like I’ll have to work hard to meet them.

***

The sports festival was his chance to get his soulmate’s attention. Yet, all everyone could talk about is the class that got attacked by villains. He hatched a plan to take them down and help his classmates.

“I believe it would be beneficial if we don’t show everyone our quirks in the first round. Looking at the past sports festivals, it’s likely to backfire on us, so it’s better to keep a low profile and then show off our skills in the more important rounds. Of course, none of you have to follow up on this. I won’t blame you for wanting to stand out. This is the sports festival, after all.”

He figured Shiozaki and Testutetsu would want to go all out. Sure enough, they did.

“I wouldn’t mind going through with it,” Kendo says. “But what about you?”

Neito raises his brow. “Naturally I’ll follow through with it..? What’s with that?”

Kendo gestures to her own wrist, which already doesn’t have her words. “Nothing, I just thought that your biggest fan would want to see you go all out.”

Maybe without the words on his wrist, he would’ve followed through with his plan. As he crosses the finish line in 7th place, he looks at the crowd. They aren’t cheering as loudly as for the top three, but with the hundreds of people presently cheering, the stadium is still deafening. Did you see me? Neito gazes down at his wrist, wondering that if they did, is soulmate is as in love with him as he already is?

***

He got a few internship requests despite not making it to the third round. Currently, his classmates are busy picking their hero names while he sits back, already having decided his.

Awase groans from the front of the class. “Argh! Monoma’s lucky, his soulmate says his hero name already so he doesn’t have to think about it..!”

Neito shrugs. “I’m sure you can think of something…”

Awase groans in response.

***

What an eventful first year…

Shit happened. He fought in a war with other kids his age. Crazy. Well, at least it’ll go down in the history books.

He stands in front of the statue displayed for his efforts in the war. His face and his hero name is engraved on the marble surface. He was a key player. The start point for Deku and Dynamight in the war. It was made known to everyone.

“Most people know my name and what I did, but don’t necessarily recognize me like those two…” Neito sighs, rubbing the back of his head as he recalls the screaming first students swarming to Bakugo and Todoroki this morning. “Guess I’ll have to work harder still.”

He falls silent.

Neito turns his heel, walking down the walk way of other statues mounted after the war. “Woah, he really does have a statue..!” He looks over his shoulder, spotting a student running in from the entrance. Right, they’re permitted to go off campus during lunch hours again. Neito watched in amusement as the student marvels at the statue. Their face glows with excitement as they pulled out their phone, discreetly attempting to take a selfie. Though, they obviously felt too embarrassed to do so on their own, ending up with blurry pictures.

Hm, he has time…

He approaches. The student nearly drops their phone straightening themself out to look inconspicuous. “Need help taking a photo?” he asks with a smile.

A hint of recognition passes through the student’s face. They turn to him in bewilderment, yet, at the sight of him they seem to forget that train of thought. Their eyes widen, and they cup their hands over their mouth. Neito chuckles while they stare at him in silent excitement, looking down. Damn, now that he’s faced with a fan he doesn’t know what to do.

“Excuse me… Phantom Thief?”

“Hm?” he brings his gaze back up. The student move their hands away from their mouth, revealing the brightest smile he’d ever seen directed at him, or anyone for that matter.

“I’m your biggest fan!”

“My…” his eyes widen. He looks down at his wrist. It’s gone. His words are gone. “You’re my…”

They blink at him, tilting their head. Albeit their confusion, they still watch and listen carefully for what he’ll say next. Did they not notice? Were they so enthralled by meeting him that they forgot their own words? The idea makes his heart swell. Before he could even register his own actions, he reaches out for them, hands on their shoulders.

“S… Say that again!”

“Eh?!” they can’t help but step back, face warming up at their proximity. “Um… I’m your biggest fan?”

Someone watching from a distance wouldn’t be able to tell who the fan in the situation is. Although, one could probably say it’s both. “Your words… do you know how much your first words helped me over the years?” he breathes out, heart thumping so loudly. This adrenaline is a relief that is incomparable to anything else. “Huh? Over the years? U-Um…” Oh dear, it looks like the student might short circuit. “Ah, sorry… I got carried away.“ Neito steps back, releasing their shoulders. “But, you really don’t notice?”

They stare at him. After a few seconds, it finally dawned on them… the realization they made earlier. “You… said my words…” They look down at their wrist and gasp. “They’re gone!”

“Yeah,” Neito nods.

They point at him, eyes wide. “You’re my soulmate!” “That’s right.”

“Holy shit.” Neito laughs as they cover their mouth once more. “My soulmate… my soulmate is Phantom Theif? For real?! I’m not dreaming?”

“Does it feel like a dream?” he asks teasingly with a raised brow.

They nod vigorously. “C-Could I… get a picture with you?”

He grins, watching them fiddle with their thumbs nervously. “Of course. Mind if I take it for us?” “Oh sure, here,” they hand over their phone.

Neito extends his arm out, holding the phone still until the camera focuses on both of them. Of course, his statue is there in the background. After all, that’s what they originally wanted to photograph.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Neito asks, pulling away. He still has the phone, though.

“(L/n) (y/n).”

“Ah, good, now I know what to write in your contact. I can put my number in, can’t I?”

“Y-Your number…” (y/n) awes. It’s only natural to keep in touch with their soulmate, but having someone the Phantom Thief whom they love so much in their contacts is something they never thought would happen. “I’d love that!”

Neito types in his number into (y/n)’s phone, and hands it back to them. “Alright. Done. Send me a text any time you wanna meet up. And if you need help as my underclassman, feel free to come to me, okay?”

(y/n) nods. “Okay.”

“Then… I’ll see you next time.”

“Um! One last thing!” (Y/n) purses their lip, debating whether on saying it or not. “May… may I get your autograph?”

“An autograph?” Neito raises his brow with a grin, watching as they scramble to find something from their bag. “Even though I’m your soulmate?”

“It’s a big bonus that you’re my soulmate but— I’ve been a fan of you since seeing the sports festival replays!” Determination burns in their eyes as they extend a board and sharpie to him. “See? I even have a special place for you to put your autograph. Please?”

“Oh, how could I refuse a request from my biggest fan?” he snickers in attempt to distract from the blush dusting his cheeks. He takes the board and sharpie, fingers brushing against each other’s.

“(Y/n), thank you for supporting me even before you realized it. Sincerely, your soulmate, Phantom Thief.”

[band--psycho]

Sylus x Reader x Zayne -Birthday Surprises - Part 2 (ZAYNE)

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

This is for my Zayne lovers! Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Flashback 

Zayne wanted to make your birthday special. 

He knew how tough of a year it had been for you, he just wanted to make your birthday a day that you would remember and treasure for years to come.

Now Zayne didn’t do anything without taking the time to think it through first; that’s why he was so particular when it came to picking out birthday presents for you. 

Normally he would’ve brought you books but you had more than enough of those that you could’ve started your own little library and he knew Tara had brought you a small collection of books already. 

Besides, he always brought you books for your birthday.

This year he wanted to do something different, aware that your relationship wasn’t the same as it was before. 

So he brought you your favourite chocolates, a bouquet of your favourite flowers and he’d even created a scrapbook that you so often talked about making, filled with all of the photos you two had taken recently. 

But then he saw a beautiful heart shaped diamond necklace with a snowflake hanging in the center of it. 

He knew you’d love it; but despite knowing that, he didn’t buy it when he first saw it. 

It wasn’t because of how much it cost; he was more than willing to pay any sum of money for a gift for you, but it was what this gift in particular meant. 

It was a symbol of how he truly felt about you….

Of how much he cared for you.

Of how much he loved you.

There were so many times where he wanted to say those three words to you; when you were cuddled up by his side on the sofa during a movie marathon, when you met up for your weekly coffee catch-up, when you were in a photo booth taking picture after picture. Or whenever you came into the hospital injured after a mission, worrying him half to death. 

He’d  been too scared to tell you of his feelings then, fearful that it could ruin the friendship he valued so highly.

But when he saw you the following day; he kept having the urge to say those words, of course he didn’t, he didn’t think randomly blurting it out in the middle of a conversation would’ve been the best of ideas. 

The day after that though, he brought the necklace without hesitation, and with a simple plan in mind. 

He was going to make your birthday the best he could possibly make it. 

And he was going to tell you how he really felt about you. 

~~~~~~

“This is for you,” Zayne said, handing over a perfectly wrapped black box, once the two of you were in your apartment.

“An early birthday present?” You asked, unable to hide the smile growing on your face as you held the box in your hands. 

“It’s one of your birthday presents; you have to wait for the rest,” he explained, placing his glasses down on the sideboard next to him, before pulling his phone from his pocket and quickly typing away a message in response to the pinging sound his phone had been making the last few minutes. 

“The rest?” The surprise in your voice was followed with a quizzical look; not being able to help but wonder how many presents he’d gotten you; you hadn’t expected anything from him except a card and a book, the same as what he got you every year.

He simply gave you a small smile followed by a nod, urging you to open the box in your hand.

“Zayne, it’s gorgeous…” you breathed, completely in awe of the gorgeous necklace sitting in the black velvet box you were holding.

The longer you stared at it, the more you felt the butterflies in your stomach swarming. 

It was stunning, the most beautiful necklace you’d ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t quite believe he was giving this to you as a gift, the brand name alone was enough for you to know that it certainly couldn’t have been  cheap. 

“Turn around,” Zayne said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts, putting his phone down next to his glasses before delicately lifting the necklace from its box. 

You did as he said and turned around whilst he unclasped the silver clasp of the necklace before gently hanging it around your neck.

You were trying to ignore how the slightest touch of his fingers on your skin sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

It wasn’t often Zayne touched you, much to your own disappointment, but when he did, you felt like your body was on fire, which was odd seeing as his hands were usually so cold. 

When you turned around to face him, you saw his eyes were fixed on you while a smile was tugging at his lips.

You loved it when he smiled at you like that. 

“Beautiful,” he complimented, making heat fill your cheeks. 

Zayne would often do this, give you little compliments like this, and everytime you had the same reaction. 

You should’ve been used to it by now, shouldn’t have let yourself be so affected by some kind words, but you couldn’t help it. 

When those words came from Zayne, they made your heart skip a beat. 

You felt something between you as you both stood there, a tension that you’d felt many times before but had tried hard to ignore, though admittedly that was getting harder and harder to do because of how frequently these feelings were occurring. 

You stared at each other for a while in silence; like you were trying to read the other's mind; to understand what the other was feeling.

“Zayne-” you whispered, breaking the silence, suddenly becoming aware of how close you were to one another.

He opened his mouth to reply to you; but then his phone started ringing, killing the tension that had been burning between you both. 

“I’m sorry, it’s work,” he apologized with a sympathetic look in his eyes as he picked it up from the sideboard.

You knew what that meant. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled reassuringly at him, “I’ll see you later right?”

You hated how needy you sounded with that last part of your sentence; but you wanted to spend time with him today….even if it was just for a few more moments. 

“Of course, nothing could make me miss tonight,” that was the last thing he said to you before leaving your apartment. 

Work always came first, for the both of you…

That was the part of the problem when it came to the two of you; a work-life balance was hard to keep when your jobs required so much of you at any hour of the day. 

You were just heading to your bedroom to start getting ready for tonight, until you heard a knock at your door.

That’s when you saw Zaynes glasses still on the sideboard; you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, remembering every time prior that Zayne had left his glasses at your apartment.

~~~~~~

Present Time

“Y/n,” you heard your name called again from the otherside of the door; you were anxious to open it, knowing who was hiding in the closet next to it, but you also knew that not opening the door wasn’t an option either. 

If you didn’t answer the door, Zayne would worry, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him worry about you. 

You took a deep breath in, before opening the door. 

“Are you okay?” Zayne asked softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a step towards you. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a smile, feeling the pang of guilt in your chest, “I was just trying to work out what to wear for tonight.” 

You felt bad for lying to him, but how could you explain that the leader of Onychinus was hiding in your apartment after nearly kissing you?

Thankfully he didn’t push any further.

“I forgot my glasses,” he stated, nodding over to the sideboard where his glasses still were, “Also, I take it you haven’t checked your phone,”

“No…Why?” You asked, handing Zayne his glasses back before trying to remember where the hell you’d put your phone.

“Tara’s on her way here, her friend at the bar said it’s getting busy and that we should all meet earlier if we want to stand a chance of getting a table,”

‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself. 

How could you leave your apartment knowing that Sylus was still in the coat closet….

“I need to change-” at least that could buy you some time to somehow sneak Sylus out without anyone noticing, you didn’t know how, but you could leave him in there.

“No time,” Tara called out, running to Zaynes side, “we need to go, now,”

“Tara-”

“Cmon,” Tara pleaded, practically pulling you out of your apartment, “besides you already look amazing, doesn’t she, Doctor Zayne?”

He nodded in agreement, whispering, “you always do,” in your ear before watching Tara start dragging you down the hall and out of the building. 

His words echoed through your mind and made an all too familiar warm and fuzzy feeling fill your heart.

What the fuck was going on tonight?

What the fuck were you going to do?

The thoughts kept spinning around your head like a carousel; but in the end you knew it all came down to one question. 

One very simple question. 

Who did your heart truly belong to, Zayne or Sylus?

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @the-slytherin-poet @ladyparamount @hao-ming-8 @deathkat657 @bookworm1767 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @ayatoq @kisukiis @cheesemachine44 @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @worm-in-a-bug @popcorn-mochi01 @thegalaxysedge22 @hotdogcookie @ollieneedsamilkshake @comatosebunny09 @ayatok

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family CODE: White post-release promo videos

It's now been a week since CODE: White released in Japan and we're STILL getting new promo videos with new footage! Obviously my favorite is the Twiyor ferris wheel scene ❤️

First Twilight had the chin monster, now he has the cheek monster 😂

There's more new promo videos besides this one, but unfortunately I can only embed one video per post. So here's a bunch of screenshots from the other videos, along with links so you can watch them for yourself!

Links below:

And here's an additional one that's only on Twitter as of now.

It really is amazing how many scenes they've shown in these videos! All that's left is for them to show us the whole movie at this point 🤣 Also, for those who didn't see my previous post, I got copies of the CODE: White novelizations and have been reading through them. I plan to share a summary of the whole movie once I'm done!

[hendersister]

our house

summary: when you and steve move in together, your house becomes a regular hangout spot for dustin and his friends.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: our house by madness

You and Steve have started living together. You’re renting a house in Hawkins, not far from your mom and Dustin. You and Steve stayed in town because you wanted to clean up the mess that Vecna made after opening the gates. You both want to be here to help defeat Vecna and close off the gate to the Upside Down once and for all.

The house you're renting is pretty nice. It has 3 bedrooms, including a master bedroom with a private bathroom for you and Steve. You were able to rent the house very cheap because so many people had fled Hawkins after Vecna opened the gate.

Since moving in, Dustin and his friends have started coming over almost on a daily basis. Your house, along with the Wheelers’ basement, has become one of the official hangouts for the party. You and Steve don’t mind. Besides stopping Vecna, another reason you remained in Hawkins was so you could stay close to your friends and family - especially your little brother. You and Steve actually kind of like providing a safe space for the kids to hangout. 

Sometimes the kids crash for the night in one of the spare rooms or on the couch. Tonight happens to be one of those nights… Dustin, Erica and Lucas are all staying over. The three kids ended up at your place for different reasons. 

Dustin came over because your mom is working the overnight shift and you didn’t want your little brother to spend the night home alone. He’s at your house so often that he basically has his own room already.

Erica showed up unannounced. She got into a stupid fight with her mom and needed some space to cool off. Erica told her parents that she was spending the night at her friend Tina’s but she went over to your house because Tina doesn’t have Duck Hunt. 

Lucas asked if he could crash at your place because he was staying late at the hospital to visit Max again and he didn’t want his parents to know. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair are trying to get Lucas to stop visiting Max all the time. They want him to move on from what happened but he can’t. Lucas loves Max and he will visit her in the hospital every day until she wakes up. So to avoid getting into an argument, Lucas lied to his parents. He told them he was spending the night at Dustin’s. Luckily his parents didn’t question it. 

Truth be told, Lucas actually prefers spending time with his friends after visiting Max. You guys know what really happened to her and what’s going on in Hawkins. Lucas loves his parents but sometimes they just don’t understand.

It was a pretty lowkey, quiet night in the Henderson/Harrington household. Erica set the table while you got dinner ready. You made a casserole. The recipe was given to you by Mrs. Wheeler. After dinner, Steve and Dustin cleaned the dishes. You read a book on the couch and Erica played Duck Hunt until Lucas arrived from the hospital. Then you all hung out in the living room and watched a movie that Steve brought home from the video store.

Now it’s getting late. Dustin went to sleep in his room, Erica took the other guest room and Lucas is crashing on the couch. You and Steve are in your room, getting ready for bed.

“Good call getting The Goonies for movie night! I think the kids really loved it,” you smile.

“They better have loved it! It was the last copy at the store. I had to lie to like five different customers that asked about it,” Steve tells you.

“Are you serious?!” you laugh.

Steve nods. You look at your boyfriend with heart eyes.

“That’s actually kinda sweet,” you say softly.

Steve smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod your head, about to reply back, when-

BOOM

Suddenly the entire house starts to violently shake. Earthquakes have been more frequent in Hawkins since Vecna opened the gate, but they are still something that you’re not used to. This is one of the bigger earthquakes you’ve experienced. The force is so strong that you fall to the ground.

“Y/N!”

Steve stumbles to get to you. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up to your feet. You stay by his side, clutching onto each other for support. 

And then, just as abruptly as it started, the earthquake stops. You and Steve stay silent for a beat, bracing yourselves for any aftershock. The room remains still.

“Is it over?” you ask, uneasy.

“I think so,” Steve cautiously replies under his breath.

You and Steve let go of each other. A million thoughts are racing through your head, but the most important-

“We need to check on the kids,” you say with a quiet urgency in your voice.

“Yeah,” your boyfriend nods in agreement. You both feel like concerned parents right now.

You and Steve leave your room to find Erica standing by her doorway. 

“So you all felt that too? I’m not crazy!” Erica exclaims.

Steve sighs, shaking his head. You quickly look Erica up and down to make sure she isn’t injured.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’m fine,” Erica tells you, “But we should probably go check on Lucas downstairs.”

You and your boyfriend exchange eye contact, silently communicating. You already know what the other is thinking. He’ll go downstairs with Erica to make sure Lucas is ok while you check up on your little brother.

“Let’s go,” Steve nods to Erica.

Steve and Erica head towards the stairs and you continue down the hall to Dustin’s room.

KNOCK, KNOCK

“Hey Dusty! Are you alright?”

You wait a beat. No response. You take a deep breath and try again.

KNOCK, KNOCK

“Dustin!”

Still no response. Now you’re worried. You attempt to open the door but it’s stuck.

“Shit!” you curse to yourself.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

“C’mon Dustin! Open the door! Dustin?!”

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

You’re frantically knocking at your brother’s door when Steve comes back upstairs. He can tell something is wrong and rushes over to you.

“Y/N! What’s going on?” your boyfriend asks.

“Dustin isn’t responding,” you anxiously reply.

Steve tries opening the door but it won’t budge.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

“Hey Henderson! C’mon man, open up!”  

No response. Steve shrugs.

“All right, that’s it! I’m gonna kick the door open,” he tells you.

Steve takes a deep breath, mentally readying himself to kick down the door, when-

CREAK

The door opens a crack and Dustin squeezes his way out. 

“Dustin! Are you okay?!” 

You pull your little brother into a big hug.

“You scared the shit out of me, dork!”

Steve lets out a sigh of relief. He stands back to let you have a moment with your brother. 

“Oh, uh, sorry. I’m okay. I couldn’t get out because the bureau fell over and is blocking the door,” Dustin explains. He was able to move the bureau over enough to get out of the room but it’s too heavy for him to lift by himself.

“Do you need help moving it out of the way?” Steve offers.

Dustin nods.

Your boyfriend and brother squeeze through the door to get back into Dustin’s room. Together, they lift up the bureau and move it back to where it was before the earthquake hit. After they’re done pushing the bureau out of the way, Steve pats Dustin on the head. He’s just relieved that the kid is alright.

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Easter Panic: Mc get´s turned into a Rabbit and the Brothers have to take care of them

Lucifer:

would you finally stop biting him? he knows you don´t like getting picked up but he has to get you home somehow

he has to watch you even more, not only are you tiny but incredibly fast

and still as attached to Cerberus than before

good for everybody involved Cerberus knows it´s you and refuses to let anybody near you and with everybody I mean everybody

he actually had to fight Cerberus to get you back

and after that he never let you go, no matter how many times you bite him

but after getting some bunny treats he at least managed to keep you calm enough so he can do his paperwork (and pet you)

Mammon:

of course the Great Mammon will take care of Mc!

… which he definitely doesn´t want to do because your even cuter now and can easily spoil you

he got you tiny matching glasses, I mean he could also get you your normal size copy of his glasses but that would just be silly

you will be a very spoiled bun

he will get literally anything a bunny could ever want doesn´t matter what it is or that they don´t even know how long you will stay one

he bought you so many treats and even bought you a hamster wheel for a reason

he also refuses to let anybody pet you, besides himself of course

and maybe tried to dress you up like him

Leviathan:

no matter what he will try to teach you how to play games because, he can´t live without his gaming buddy!

he also tried making you a tiny Ruri-chan outfit, you did not wear it but you did sleep on the tiny Azuki-tan pillow he made

he also took a bunch of pictures of you

he also tried to let you swim in one of his tanks, you panicked and bite him needless to say it was a mistake

he did manage to teach you how to play chill games

every time you manged to finished a task he cheered you on

Satan:

depressed by the fact you didn´t turn into a cat

he did try to turn you into a Cat before Lucifer stopped him

he also gave you some Cat toys to play with because he didn´t have time to buy you Rabbit toys

but he did take a bunch of pictures when you decided to play with a ball of yarn

he also used you as a anti-stress ball but all he did was squish your cheeks

he was a little bit calmer that day and even listened to Lucifer once

everybody was shocked at this

Asmodeus:

he made you so many tiny outfits for you to model in

and of course one or two will be uploaded to his Devilgram

but the majority of them are just for him, I mean it itsn´t everyday your favorite Human get´s turned into a Bunny and can´t defend themself

this is the only chance he has to dress you up and he will take it no matter what form you have

but he will cuddle with you a lot

and with a lot I mean he carries you around like a purse dog

the only reason he doesn´t use a baby carries is that he couldn´t find one who looked fashionable and fit his outfit

Beelzebub:

he was concerned when he was told to look after you

considering all he could think about while seeing you were all kinds of recipes featuring Rabbits

but he never tried to eat you, he did eat Rabbit meat in front of you thought which did unnerve you a little bit

but he also ate the Rabbit food, which he can´t be blamed for considering unlike other pet food it seems like something that could be eaten

he also made little dumbbells for you because he wanted you to keep up with your training

for some reason you could actually use them and now Beel has a picture of a rabbit using dumbbells

Belphegor:

he just takes naps with you

you either got your own little spot on the bad or just have to cuddle with him

it also doesn´t help that you got very comfortable fur

during those times he carries you around like he does with his pillow

he also acts like your his pillow

which means you´ll have to stay still for hours or end or be forced to take a bunch of naps

or you get lucky and have the rare chance to struggle free without him immediately catching you again

he will be very sad when you turn back

he lost his newest favorite pillow D:

[no-song-so-sweet]

I want to talk about Harry Potter.

Well. Sort of. I want to talk about Harry Potter in a roundabout way, in that, I want to talk about the reaction my friend group had when shit started really going down with That Bitch Rowling.

Because Rowling is a horrible person. She’s a TERF, a denier of Nazi Crimes, homophobic, anti-Semitic, the list goes on and on (and most recently, has been attacking a trans soccer manager, if my dash is to be believed? Somehow, she just seems more cartoonishly evil with each passing day). But this isn’t about That Bitch Rowling, not really. Or if it is, she’s merely a footnote in the story.

Harry Potter was, and I think this is true for many of us, a large part of my childhood. While the writing may be mediocre at best, it was wildly influential. I didn’t know a single kid that wasn’t hoping for a letter to Hogwarts. It was a Big Deal for a lot of people, and that included my friend group. My friend group, which is made up of members of the LGBTQ+ community. My friend group, which includes a young lady who we didn’t always know was a lady. I’m sure you can see where this might be going.

The day I got a tear filled phone call about That Bitch Rowling was, frankly, heartbreaking. She was mad because a woman she had respected up until now didn’t respect her. She wanted to get rid of her copies of the books, but didn’t want to donate them. I never want to hear her cry like that again. So I made a decision.

I told her to hold onto her books for just a little while longer. I phoned the group. I figured out when everyone could get together for a weekend, and when I had hammered out dates, I packed up my car, and drove the six hundred miles back to my childhood home.

In the passenger’s seat, was my set of Harry Potter books.

Excluding my trans friend, there were seven of us. I had made a plan, and my father had the space to enact it - I grew up on acres of land; complete with 200 year old oak tree, creek in the woods in the backyard, and a massive fire pit.

Nostalgia and youth, I find, paint everything with a rose tinted hue; if Rowling had just kept her mouth shut, I’m sure many of us would have looked back on the Harry Potter series with some amount of shame. But I don’t think it would have suffered the sort of fall from grace that led us to this point.

The fire pit is important for several reasons. For example, it had been the popular gathering place for my friend group of literal decades at this point. Small towns mean that you know everyone from a very early age. We lived right beside the woods, so we used the fire pit to burn the leaves, and the branches storms took down, of which there were many. And when the first six of my friends rolled down the half mile driveway that day, I had already collect enough wood to get a decent fire going.

Six of my friends. We told the seventh a later time. We wanted to be prepared, and anyway, we all had the same cargo (six sets of seven books joined mine on a rickety folding table). I put them to work collecting more firewood (is it really a good bonfire if you’re not risking setting the barn on fire?).

By the time our last member rolled up, I had a fire going.

She had her set of those damn books too.

(There is a visceral grief that comes from being let down by your childhood heroes, and I fully believe that That Bitch Rowling embodies the phrase “never meet your heroes,” because folks, as a general rule, I am not a fan of burning books. But I was prepared to make an exception.)

We burned our copies of the Harry Potter books that day, all eight of us. They were well read, beaten to hell and back, with cracked spines, and dents in corners, and pieces of the pages missing where we had bent down the corners one too many times. And I won’t lie to anyone. We cried. Tears of sorrow and rage, for the piece of our childhood that we were choosing to give up, because to keep it would be to disrespect the woman we had known and loved for longer than we’d ever had those books.

Letting go sucked. But it was the right thing to do.

When they were gone, we put out the fire, went inside, and built the pillow fort of our dreams. We marathoned Star Wars, and ordered too many pizzas, and had way too much soda. We fell asleep playing Risk, because that’s what our friend choose, and in the morning, I made waffles with chocolate chips and too much maple syrup.

I wanted to talk about this, not just because this is a fond memory for me (even though it is), but because one of my coworkers confessed to me that they hated Rowling, and everything she stood for, and they refused to have anything else to do with the Harry Potter franchise, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to get rid of the books.

I said I was happy to host another book burning.

But I wanted to write this down because I know that sometimes it’s hard to take that final step, to leave behind that last thing. So for anyone who needs to hear it, it’s okay to grieve the things we loose when we grow up. Letting go can be hard, but I promise you’ll end up better off. It’s been awhile since things really went downhill, but I maintain that, in this case, death of the author is nonexistent, and it is better to have loved and then lost, than to hold on too tight.

Don’t hurt yourself on the shattered remains of your childhood magic.

[quimichi]

TW: obsessive behavior, stealing

SUMMARY: He couldn't take his eyes off you...why are you so...catching? So pretty to look at...Why do you have to have this beautiful soul...and why would he do anything for you?

CHARACTERS: SUB!Yandere x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 854

*character in the picture: Yoshiki - The summer Hikaru died

¡! ❞ Akito always loved beautiful things. Since childhood he loved to watch the sunset or sunrise. His parents always had to stop their car when there was a rainbow so he could take a picture with his little kids toy camera. When he got older, he also hot into poetry. He found his mothers poetry book in the bookshelf before he could even understand half the words written there. He just knew those words and phrases must be pretty.

¡! ❞ All things fascinate him, because all things are beautiful in some way. So it wouldn't have been much of a surprise that when he sees you, he would fall hard.

¡! ❞ But...it was. There he was, standing his eyes almost popping out of his skull while he introduces himself to the class. He just moved here, everything i so new to him. There's so much to discover! But he had no idea he would discover love...discover you.

¡! ❞ He stared, directly at you, you saw and felt it. Normally, you'd think its really weird, cause it is. But since he appears so cute and innocent, you shake it off as a nervous fixation. Surely someone like him wouldn't be THAT weird. Wrong...

¡! ❞ The teacher decides the best place for him to sit, is the free place beside you. There are many more free seats, but you were one of the nicest in class, so your teacher figured it would be best if Akito sat beside you. Maybe you will even show him around? Introduce him to the new environment?

¡! ❞ So he sat down beside you, and immediately introduced himself, "Akito." He extends his hand, wanting you to shake it, and of course you place your hand in his...oh-your hand is...so warm? It feels nice against his skin. Your skin against his. Youe have really nice hands, with hands like these you MUST obviously do something. Art? Maybe you compose songs? Poetry maybe! "I know-!" you giggle as you shake his hand. Akito tilts his head, "Huh?...oh-i already introduced myself-!" He's a little ashamed, but he had worse situations. Your beauty is just...he doesn't know how to describe it, it caught him off guard a bit.

¡! ❞ "I'm Y/N, it's really nice to meet you." You shake his hand, you can't deny it, he's kinda cute. But the introduction was short lived because the lesson was about to start. While you were able to pay attention, Akito was not. He doesn't dislike school, but neither does he love it. Hes a pretty good student, he can pay attention. But rn the lesson is just bugging him the wrong way. It cut you off, you couldn't talk to him anymore...He wanted to hear more of your voice...what a shame, truly.

¡! ❞ But its ok, he can just sit there and learn about you! Oh, now he knows what those hands do. Your handwriting is pretty, the way that pen flows over the paper makes it look so elegant, so easy. You wouldn't pay much attention to it cause well, its not really important is it? Its just your handwriting. But Akito already memorized how each letter is written, connects with the other, how they look in combinations.

¡! ❞ You, again, notice his stare. And, again, you shake it off. You move your hand over and turn the paper into his vision, "there." You honestly just thought he wants to see your notes and maybe copy some of them. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO NICE??? Why is his heart pounding so much?? Is this love? No, it can't be you two just met??

¡! ❞ at the end of class he noticed how one of your pens mustve rolled off your table. Seems like you also didn't noticed...so you wouldn't notice if he would take it, right? You're so nice you wouldn't mind one pen less right? Its also the pen you took your notes with!...that means your warm soft hands touched it...pretty hands.

¡! ❞ Quickly he shoves it into his pocket before someone notices him and walks out right after you, following along like a lost puppy. You know where the next class is, so you don't mind. But he actually forgot about this fact and just wanted to follow you, because...well youre interesting. He keeps playing with the pen in his pocket, the material is nice. You must probably like the pen if you take notes with it. And he saw more of the same brand laying around on your desk. Is it your favorite brand? Should he buy you some?...Or do you have enough? Wait-why did you stop walki-

¡! ❞ He bumped into your back, or more specifically, your backpack. "Sorry-! I uh...didn't pay attention to where i was going..." You laugh it off, saying its ok while walking away to a friend.

¡! ❞ Odd...this feeling in his stomach, the sudden drop. Perhaps...jealousy? Is he truly jealous of your friend? Just because you walked over to them to talk to them instead of you? Cause your attention shifted?...

to be continued?

I realized I take waaay to long so--more parts? Was it even good???

[blueiscoool]

Remnants of a Legendary Typeface Have Been Rescued From the Thames River

Doves Type was thrown into the water a century ago, following a dispute between its creators.

The depths of the river Thames in London hold many unexpected stories, gleaned from the recovery of prehistoric tools, Roman pottery, medieval jewelry, and much more besides. Yet the tale of the lost (and since recovered) Doves typeface is surely one of the most peculiar.

A little over a century ago, the printer T.J. Cobden-Sanderson took it upon himself to surreptitiously dump every piece of this carefully honed metal letterpress type into the river. It was an act of retribution against his business partner, Emery Walker, whom he believed was attempting to swindle him.

The pair had conceived this idiosyncratic Arts and Crafts typeface when they founded the Doves Press in the London’s Hammersmith neighborhood, in 1900. They worked with draftsman Percy Tiffin and master punch-cutter Edward Prince to faithfully recall the Renaissance clarity of 15th-century Venetian fonts, designed by the revolutionary master typographer Nicolas Jensen.

With its extra-wide capital letters, diamond shaped punctuation and unique off-kilter dots on the letter “i,” Doves Type became the press’s hallmark, surpassing fussier typographic attempts by their friend and sometime collaborator, William Morris.

The letterforms only existed as a unique 16pt edition, meaning that when Cobden-Sanderson decided to “bequeath” every single piece of molded lead to the Thames, he effectively destroyed any prospect of the typeface ever being printed again. That might well have been the case, were it not for several individuals and a particularly tenacious graphic designer.

Robert Green first became fascinated with Doves Type in the mid-2000s, scouring printed editions and online facsimiles, to try and faithfully redraw and digitize every line. In 2013, he released the first downloadable version on typespec, but remained dissatisfied. In October 2014, he decided to take to the river to see if he could find any of the original pieces.

Using historical accounts and Cobden-Sanderson’s diaries, he pinpointed the exact spot where the printer had offloaded his wares, from a shadowy spot on Hammersmith bridge. “I’d only been down there 20 minutes and I found three pieces,” he said. “So, I got in touch with the Port of London Authority and they came down to search in a meticulous spiral.” The team of scuba divers used the rather low-tech tools of a bucket and a sieve to sift through the riverbed.

Green managed to recover a total of 151 sorts (the name for individual pieces of type) out of a possible 500,000. “It’s a tiny fraction, but when I was down by the river on my own, for one second it all felt very cosmic,” he said. “It was like Cobden-Sanderson had dropped the type from the bridge and straight into my hands. Time just collapsed.”

The finds have enabled him to further develop his digitized version and has also connected him with official mudlarks (people who search riverbanks for lost treasures, with special permits issued) who have uncovered even more of the type.

Jason Sandy, an architect, author and member of the Society of Thames Mudlarks, found 12 pieces, which he has donated to Emery Walker’s House at 7 Hammersmith Terrace. This private museum was once home to both business partners, and retains its stunning domestic Arts and Crafts interior.

Much like Green, Sandy was captivated by the Doves Type story, and mounted an exhibition at the house that displays hundreds of these salvaged pieces, including those discovered by Green, as well as mudlarks Lucasz Orlinski and Angus McArthur. The show was supplemented by a whole host of Sandy’s other finds, including jewelry and tools. An extant copy of the Doves English Bible is also on display.

“It is not that unusual to find pieces of type in the river,” Sandy said. “Particularly around Fleet Street, where newspaper typesetters would throw pieces in the water when they couldn’t be bothered to put them back in their cases. But this is a legendary story and we mudlarks love a good challenge.” The community is naturally secretive about exactly where and how things are found. For example, Orlinski has worked under the cover of night with a head torch, to search for treasures at his own mysterious spot on the riverbank.

For Sandy, the thrill comes from the discovery of both rare and everyday artifacts, which can lead to an entirely new line of inquiry: “The Thames is very democratic. It gives you a clear picture of what people have been wearing or using over thousands of years. And it’s not carefully curated by a museum. The river gives up these objects randomly, and you experience these amazing stories of ordinary Londoners. It creates a very tangible connection to the past. Every object leads you down a rabbit hole.”

By Holly Black.

[ivysangel]

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

[noellefan101]

Your First Date-Genshin pt 2

Characters: Tighnari, Heizou, Wanderer, Kazuha x gn reader (separate)

Warnings: fluff and headcanons, so none ig

Note: this was really fun to write, and get away from school stress for a bit, i looooove you all

Tighnari

it would out in the forest(he made sure there was no fungi or anything to disturb u)

he would show you some really pretty flowers or mushrooms if you wanted(tho he wont make it similar to a lecture, only a little)

he maybe spaced out while looking at you, not his fault your so pretty, but gave a(n) (almost) shy apology after.

definitely picked flowers with you so you could have a fresh bouquet with the prettiest flowers you could find(he made sure none of them were deadly, or bad for you to be around)

you were given permission to pet his ears for a little after he caugt you looking at them for a little too long

^^he also let you cuddle his tail if you were cold(but he wont look at you since he doesn't want you to see how red he is)

overall a pretty good first date, if he could say so himself

Heizou

would talk non-stop about some cases he recently solved, wanting to impress you, even though you already are

took you to some fried food stalls around Inazuma city, ritou if you can handle the walk(ik i can´t)

he wanted to take you to do some puzzles with him, but figured he should make it more classic or romantic for your first date

^^maybe next time he´ll take you out to try and solve those puzzles

he got you your favorite flowers(if you like flowers) or a pot he tried to make for you, with the help of his family (which is very happy he wanted to make something, but didn't know he only put effort in bc it was for you)

kano, his cousin, and kujou sara also helped him actually ask you out, because at that point it was getting painful to watch him swoon over you every day

Wanderer

he didn´t even really agree with where he took you, Nahida just told him where to take you after she found out he (finally) asked you out

so he ended up taking you out somewhere in Sumeru city

(but maybe he also ended up leading you out of the city when people were got a little too loud and irritating for his liking)

didnt get you anything, as he didnt think he needed to, but the fact that his attitude was almost not there (when talking to you) was maybe a gift in itself

Nahida was so excited for your date, she may have borrowed someone's body for a while (at least 5-8 hours) and watched you

wanderer definitely noticed her presence, and tried getting away from her to get some complete alone time with you

^^when he finally succeeded you ended up falling on him, so he awkwardly let you sleep on his lap/shoulder while stroking your hair and getting lost in your beauty

Kazuha

your first date was probably on the crux, or wandering around in some nation (either his homeland or yours if you wanted, but that could always be another time)

the activities he had in mind would be fishing, making food together(or baking), sharing his haikus and poems (and helping you make some if you wanted)

^^i had too many ideas to put in here, sorry

but he would stroke your hair as you lay beside him and mutter his recent love poems, just for you

for the food you made, it would be something like fried/baked fish, hashbrowns... anything you knew how to make(basically), and sweets like dango or cake from your homeland

beidou and the crux may or may not have been following you, just for a little

^^she needed something to tell ningguang, as she was also invested in your relationship, and silently cheered on

Thanks for reading(ehe), luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts