#he looks...... Like he did before when he comes back to earth

[ellecdc]

Hi, I don't actually know if your requests are open but I was just wondering if you could do a fic about poly!Mauraders x reader, but it's a full moon and when James and Sirius are out with moony, they run into another wolf (reader) and moony just instantly takes a liking to her. Imagine moony trying to follow her around, and reader keeps snapping her jaw at him. I could also imagine reader is maybe a Slytherin?

Sorry if this isn't good, I just popped into my head, and I went with it. Take your time, and don't rush yourself 💓

"sorry if this isn't good - don't rush" uhm, it was fantastic and I wrote it IMMEDIATELY thank youuuuu!!!! <3

poly!marauders x werewolf!reader who's unwittingly integrated into their pack [2.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, werewolf behaviour, some aggression/fighting, canine aggression and submission, Padfoot's had it up to fucking here with them all thank you very much

Padfoot wondered for a moment if maybe he was just some glorified herding dog at this point whilst he struggled to keep Moony on their usual routine when the werewolf seemed thoroughly hellbent on breaking it.

Moony - a blood hound tonight, apparently - insisted on following his nose, Padfoot’s incessant demands to stick to plan be damned. 

And unfortunately for Padfoot, it didn’t seem like Prongs or Wormtail had any clue how to deal with Moony either.

Great.

So instead of their usual routine of transforming in the shack, letting Moony out, following their trail where they run (and roll, in Moony & Padfoot’s case) down a large hill before chasing each other along the river bank, grabbing a drink from the edge of the Black Lake and slowly making their way back to the shack…Moony no sooner got to the bottom of their hill before he picked up some scent and followed it down dark, wandering paths through the Forbidden Forest.

Padfoot had tried encouraging a mouth wrestle and romp - no dice. Prongs tried taking off in a sprint, hoping to elicit Moony’s instinct to chase - no dice. Wormtail bit Moony’s foot which only saw him nearly stomped on as the werewolf continued on his journey. Prongs tried bodily shoving Moony back in the direction of the shack to no avail. 

Padfoot was just about ready to pick a bloody fight with the beast when he heard snuffling followed by a low growl.

Unfortunately for Padfoot, Moony didn’t miss it either, and before he knew which way was up, Moony took off in a sprint towards the sound. 

Padfoot hoped to come back in his next life as a border collie - maybe he’d have better luck with the likes of sheep.

And that decision was only solidified when he turned the corner to find Moony staring down another werewolf who had her hackles raised and teeth bared at the bastard who seemed either ignorant to canine body language or was actively choosing to ignore it.

At least sheep will have the bloody wherewithal to avoid danger. 

Padfoot made a quiet whimpering sound, hoping to encourage Moony to get the hells out of here, but it only served to have Moony’s ear flick in his general direction before returning to his new wolf friend. 

Prongs huffed a breath and stomped his hoof into the earth, and Padfoot noticed then that Wormtail was nowhere to be found - the bloody coward. 

Moony tried to crane his neck forward to sniff at the wolf's paws, only for the wolf to snarl and snap at him before smacking him with said paw like a sodding cat. 

Moony at least had the grace to lower himself to the ground in submission for but a moment before he bounced back up to try doing much the same. 

This time, the wolf charged at Moony, pinning him to the earth by his throat as she growled at him; the sound muffled by the fact that Moony’s sodding neck was in her mouth.

Prongs grunted and made to charge in Moony’s defence, causing the wolf to release Moony and look at him sceptically, and Moony to growl at Prongs warningly - he did not want their help. 

Fine by Padfoot. He wasn’t much interested in helping a werewolf with a death wish anyway. 

But when the wolf decided this was all perhaps a bit too much for her, turning away from the strange pack to continue on its path - of which the marauders should be on their own, thank you very much - Moony went to follow, and dammit, this was Padfoot’s pack.

And if it wasn’t his pack, it was his herd, and what kind of border collie would Padfoot be if he let his pack sheep out of his sight?

Not a very good one, is what.

So, with a huff of resignation, Padfoot trailed behind the wolves - one that kept turning to nip, snap, and snarl at pesky Moony, and pesky Moony who kept trying to get a sniff or even, more disturbingly, incite play with a gentle nip - Prongs (and Wormtail, by means of Prongs’ antlers) trailed behind him. 

The wolf seemed resigned to her fate in having company for the rest of the evening, though that didn’t mean she was pleased about it. Every time Padfoot thought the wolf’s hackles were going down, Moony playbowed in front of her like an overgrown lanky puppy, and they rose right back up. 

The new wolf, for her part, spent the evening snuffling through the dried leaves and moss on the floor, stretching against tree trunks and using the bark to sharpen her claws (still not unlike a cat), and chewing on a stick. 

Padfoot thought that actually all seemed like a really nice way to spend the evening.

Or, you know, it would have been, had he not been in charge of this ridiculous rag-tag group of misfits he unwittingly found himself responsible for. 

But eventually, the evening had to come to an end, and that end was signalled by the twitching of Moony’s muscles underneath his fur as the moon started pulling at his bones, and it appeared to be doing the same for you.

But the night couldn’t end, it seemed, if you weren’t coming with Moony. And for as annoyed as Padfoot had been all evening, he was growing increasingly anxious. 

You abandoned your stick and stood, beginning to limp away from them when Moony grunted and hurried after you, causing Padfoot and Prongs to bark and bleat respectively. 

Any levity that the wolf had found for the marauders quickly vanished in the face of her oncoming transformation and the pain radiating through her when she turned on Moony and lunged at him. Padfoot whimpered and felt his heart try to escape through his throat as earth flew up in the air due to paws digging into the ground for traction and scrambling for purchase. 

The wolf's growls were different now, though; they weren’t bored, they weren’t dismissive, and they weren’t even all that threatening. The wolf was scared - panicked, even. Padfoot could see it in the speed of her breathing and the whites of her eyes that she was quickly descending into terror. 

They were close, so close, to the shack; Padfoot was certain he could get Moony back before the transformation if he would just get a sodding move on.

But it appeared Moony was wholly unwilling to leave without this wolf, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

The wolf seemed to come to the same conclusion as Padfoot, stepping away from Moony before submitting for the first time all evening, and wincing as Padfoot heard one of her joints shift. 

Moony let out a sigh, moving over to the wolf who seemed so small now that she was cowering at the base of the tree with Moony standing above her, nudging her face and neck with his nose before licking over her face. 

The wolf whimpered, and Padfoot watched as Moony’s right hind foot came out from underneath him for a moment - as if he tripped - telling him that the transformation was starting. 

Padfoot whined, and he swore Moony actually nodded his head in understanding before he gently grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck and encouraged her to stand. 

Resigned to her fate, the wolf followed the pack towards the shack, barely making it into the room before the transformation took over.

The first thing you noticed when you came to wasn’t the pain, though that was there. It was always there. 

No, the first thing you noticed when you came to was the feeling of linen on top of you and something soft below you. 

That wasn’t right; that couldn’t be right, could it? You were supposed to be in the cave. 

But when you shifted your arm and felt the linen - a blanket? - fall from your shoulder, you knew it was true. You were not in the cave. You were not in the cave, and someone had found you. 

“I think she’s awake.” 

Someones had found you.

You were not in the cave, people had found you, and you were not alone.

You sat up suddenly, holding the blanket to your chest as you shuffled away from the sounds before your back met something solid. Your head felt heavy and off-kilter, like you were standing on a boat swaying on rolling waves.

You had a wicked migraine coming on.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there doll.” Another voice sounded.

“What-” You tried, cutting yourself off to clear your throat when your voice came out gravely and painful, threatening to bring up whatever you still had in your stomach from dinner two nights ago; the last time you could manage food. “Why are you- why am I here? Where am I? What-”

“Open your eyes, L/N.” The second voice offered, though you could tell the inflection was softer than it naturally was; you wondered if that took him a lot of effort. “You’re okay.”

Your breaths began to quicken because you didn’t feel okay, this didn’t feel okay. Someone knew, they knew; they had found you, you were found out.

The sun was still low, so the light in the….room? shack? hut? was dim, though it still made your eyes water with the impending migraine lined up in your temples as if just waiting for a good excuse to wreak havoc on your brain. 

You were accosted with the sight of Sirius Black crouching in front of you, elbows on his knees as his eyebrows hooked in the middle; James Potter standing behind him with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you much the same. 

“You’re okay.” James repeated, nodding his head encouragingly as your vision began to swim.

“Try to relax, doll; you’re not going to feel very well if you work yourself up.”

You let out a hysterical breath that bordered between a laugh and a sob as a few tears spilled out. “Relax? I- what… How could you- why are you here?”

James grimaced. “Sorry, that would be Moony’s fault.” 

��Moony? I-” But your question was cut off  when you heard the shuffling off bedding from across the room, and both James and Sirius turned towards the sound, exposing Remus Lupin sitting up on an old mattress, rubbing at his eyes as a blanket fell and pooled at his hips, exposing his bare torso that was….covered in claw marks.

“Oh gods.” You let out with a sob. “What did I- Did I do that?” 

“What?” Remus let out groggily as both Sirius and James quickly denied it. 

“No, no. Listen, angel, please relax-”

“Stop telling me to relax.” You nearly shrilled. “And stop calling me nice names!”

Too tired, too freaked out, and too confused to have chosen your wording carefully, you appeared to have said something wrong when Sirius’ mouth turned up in a salacious smirk. 

“You like our nice names?”

“No!” 

“I think you do.” James continued.

“Leave the poor girl alone.” Remus grumbled before he fell back onto his bed, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

“Where are we?” You asked simply, swallowing around your gag reflex.

“The shrieking shack.” James answered just as simply.

“Okay.” You acknowledged. “Why?”

“Well, Moony wouldn’t leave without you, so we sort of had to bring you with us.” Sirius answered.

“Moony…?”

“That’s me.” You heard Remus mutter, voice muffled from behind his hands. 

“And…I didn’t hurt anyone last night?” You asked slowly. 

James’ face softened as he started to shake his head no, but Sirius scoffed.

“Define hurt, gorgeous. I was pissed, for one. Two, you had that wanker by the throat for most of the night.” He said, gesturing behind him to Remus with a careless thumb. 

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t bloody leave you alone! I was exhausted just watching.” Sirius continued.

“Would you stop bloody shouting?” Remus grumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree as you rubbed at your head. 

“Anyway,” James continued at a more appropriate volume, “he wouldn’t leave without you, so we brought you back here for the transformation. Where…where were you going to go for the transformation?” 

You flushed as you wrapped the blanket tighter around your person. “There's…a cave I usually go to.” You admitted in a whisper.

“Well, I bet this is an upgrade then, no?” Sirius offered somewhat haughtily, but his face fell quickly when you began speaking again.

“You can’t tell anyone…please.” 

“Tell anyone?” James repeated.

“I…no one knows, no one can know.”

“Whoa, babe, hang on. Who’re we gonna tell?” Sirius asked then, a disbelieving look painting his features. 

“I-” you started, swallowing again “I don’t know but, I just, you can’t-”

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone.” James assured you. “We aren’t going to tell anyone; there’s nothing to tell.” 

You must have looked sceptical, because Sirius quickly intervened.

“Alright look, we promise not to tell anyone about your lycanthropy, as long as you promise not to tell anyone about Remus’, or about James and I being illegal, unregistered animagi.” 

Your mouth actually fell open as you looked between the three of them; James as he turned to grab some vials of pain potions and healing balms, Sirius who was smirking at you salaciously, and Remus who was carding his hand through his hair and smiling (try grimacing) at you apologetically. 

“Welcome to the pack, L/N.” Remus said wryly before he downed the potion James handed to him in one, effortless swig and laid back down. 

“We’re called the marauders.” James explained as he handed you a matching potion. “We’ll have to find you a nickname. Don’t worry though, we have a whole month to come up with one.” 

What the fuck?

[willowsnook]

Done Waiting

Lando Norris x bsf!reader

She isn’t you

Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld

—-------------------------------

MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what I’ve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. I’m caught up in some work stuff, or else I’d make the trip myself. 

Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him. 

Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack. 

You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him. 

It hadn’t taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and you’d dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in. 

Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. You’d been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didn’t fit in that picture right now. 

Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better. 

The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Making sure you don’t do something crazy,” you replied, mirroring him with his arms. 

“I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care.” 

You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water. 

“You didn’t have to come; I’m fine,” he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his. 

“I wanted to come.” He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was. 

“Why don’t we get some rest? Then you’ll be ready for a full day tomorrow,” you suggested, and he looked over at you. 

“I’m here to relax, y/n,” he said, and you smiled mischievously. 

“It will be relaxing, I promise.”

It was not relaxing. 

You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you. 

Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune. 

“Are you not relaxed?” Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

“Yeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,” you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. “What are your plans for while I work?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.” 

Shooting him a look, you sighed, “That would be funny if I didn’t know you’d already been doing that.” 

He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter. 

“You’re going to be okay Lan,” you said, looking up at him. 

“I know,” he said sadly. 

Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadn’t had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well. 

Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house. 

“Smells great,” he commented and you smiled. “Can we eat outside?”

“You read my mind,” you replied, plating the food. 

Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears. 

“This place is amazing; how did you find it?” You asked, turning to Lando. 

“Honestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,” he admitted. “I just wanted to be away from everyone.” 

“We are here for you to lean on Lan,” you said softly. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

“I know that, but I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he confessed, and your heart sank. 

“Lando Norris,” you said, forcing him to look at you. “There is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything you’ve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair. 

“You buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,” you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally. 

Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment. 

—------------------------------

Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal. 

Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner. 

“Hi, I’m Mary,” a girl you didn’t recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself. 

“Mary and I met at a shoot early this year,” Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip. 

You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were. 

“Ya know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,” Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie. 

At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush. 

Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time. 

You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Lando’s lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done. 

Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You weren’t sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t interested but he didn’t do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim. 

God, you were so fucking over it. 

You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag. 

"No y/n don’t go,” he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore Max,” you said, voice cracking. “I have to protect my heart.” 

“You know he loves you,” he said moving towards you to hold you. “Everyone knows that.” 

“If that’s true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,” you yelled and Max stayed silent. “Exactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.” 

Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone. 

“Y/N!” He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. “Where’d you run off too? I was looking for you.” 

You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag. 

“What’s going on?” He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob. 

“Let her go mate,” you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off. 

Lando’s POV

Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.

“Why is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?”

Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Lando’s face with a mix of frustration and pity. “Mate, she’s in love with you. And honestly, you’re in love with her too, even if you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Lando froze, the weight of Max’s words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with you—the late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how he’d let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.

She isn’t you.

The thought was so painfully clear now. It didn’t matter how kind or fun Mary was—she wasn’t you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.

“I need to go,” Lando said suddenly. “I need to go to the airport.” 

He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

You skipped the Singapore GP. You didn’t even watch it on tv so you didn’t know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium. 

He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. You’d started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops,  and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable. 

It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You weren’t expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didn’t live in Monaco, you didn’t really know what to say, just stared at him silently. 

“May I come in?” He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks,” you replied following him into the living room. “What are you doing here?”

He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side. 

“I need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,” he said slowly and you immediately looked away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, playing with your hands. 

“It does matter,” Oscar insisted. “It’s okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.”

Your head snapped up, “I didn’t reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.” 

“There’s no way,” Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club. 

“Trust me when I say that I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,” Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. “He is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.”

“Then why did he never tell me!” You said, voice rising. “I’ve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isn’t afraid to love me.” 

Oscar’s heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way. 

“I came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this and it’s starting to affect his racing so I’m begging you to at least think about talking to him.” 

—-------------------------------------

You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didn’t. Every morning he texted you “good morning” and gave you updates on his day even though you weren’t responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working. 

Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked. 

Because of a work event, you weren’t going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldn’t see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning. 

Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you. 

“We’ll talk later okay?” He asked and you nodded. “I have a lot of things I need to say to you.”

He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions. 

Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him. 

After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You weren’t sure if he’d want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.

He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did, Lando,” you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. “I always do.”

He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. “Can we go somewhere… quieter?”

You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.

“I was an idiot,” he began, voice raw with honesty. “You don’t know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I could’ve done differently. I didn’t understand how much it would hurt you… I was blind to everything but my own mess.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.

“You’ve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much I’d taken you for granted. I’m sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not… admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe it’d hurt less. But I can’t pretend anymore. I love you.”

Hearing those words, the walls you’d built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered and he gave you a soft smile. 

“I know, I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.” 

When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 6 | Birthday Tears

summary: today was your birthday, the day you’ve never got to actually celebrate because of some family issues. Youve now always avoided your birthday and didn’t want to celebrate it, when you were coming home from the grocery store you were met with a sweet surprise when entering the house…

warnings: FLUFF, brief mentions of family issues but aside from that nothing else!

authors note: day 6 is now complete ! Big thanks to my honey @/strnilolover for the idea and the other ideas, luv u sm💋. And tysm for all of the support throughout this whole thing, I rlly appreciate very single one of you sm. Hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The crisp autumn air hung in the space around me as I clutched the grocery bags and carried them home, each step filled with a heavy amount of memories I wish to forget everyday. Today was my birthday-the day I’ve avoided for many years now, it’s always been a battlefield in my family and it just serves as a reminder of fractured connections and unmet expectations. Each year I have tried to wish it away, for it to vanish and forever be forgotten by everyone on earth, pretending like the specific date held no significance to my well being.

I arrive at my shared apartment with my roommate Madi and set the bags down in the kitchen counter, the delicious scent of fresh basil and ripe tomatoes filling the air as a reminder to the pasta I was planning on making for tonight’s dinner for me and Madi if she wouldn’t be staying at her boyfriends house again. Just praying I won’t burn it, like it happened the previous times. I dismiss the slight sorrow hollowing a hole in my heart at the thought of others celebrating their birthday and looking forward to it, while I was avoiding it at every cost and turn I made.

My hands moved over to the grocery bags, taking each product outside and placing them one by one in the fridge at their designated spots. Just as I turn around, my attention was immediately brought to flickering lights coming from under the door leading to the living room. Did I forget to turn off the lamp before I left? Curiosity piqued as I took a step closer, my ears picking up the soft hum of perhaps my favorite sounds. Laughter but genuine, joyful laughter. Was the TV left turned on too alongside the lamp?

I paused for a moment, my heart slightly racing as trepidation coursed through me. Maybe it was best to retreat my steps back into the comfort of my lonely routine and worry about it later but something, perhaps a whisper of longing and something I lost a long time ago, pulled me towards the room without my consent. Cautiously I creaked open the door, expecting to see the same mess of a variety of items I was going to clean up when I got back home but instead I was met with colorful confetti scattered across the floor of the room along with a chorus of “Surprise!” Which caught me completely off guard.

The confetti danced in the air as I stood at the doorframe, completely surprised but then I scanned the living room. Alongside the festive chaos was standing my boyfriend, Christopher and surprisingly my roommate Madi without the presence of her boyfriend along with some of my other friends who managed to somehow scrunch into the small space of my modest living room. My heart swelled, shocked by their presence as it was unprepared for the flood of overwhelming emotions all coming down at once.

Chris moved to stand next to me, wrapping a loving arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his side as I admire the whole surprise still. “Happy birthday, ma” He celebrated, glancing down and chuckling at how well the surprise worked on me. The warmth of his small embrace scattered across my whole body and enveloped me in a safe space I never knew I needed to feel, urging away every of the shadows that clung to my heart on this day.

“What is all this?” I stammered, continuing to try and process the sight placed in front of me. On the small coffee table landed a homemade birthday cake topped off with several candles, decorations created from paper and a pile of gifts wrapped in pretty shiny wrapping paper. “We figured you finally needed to stop avoiding your birthday, everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday after all.” Madi beamed as she stepped closer to where me and Chris were standing while Chris adds, “We couldn’t let another year go by without making it special, y’know?”

Realization washes over me, the overwhelming kindness in their gesture felt like a balm to all of the years I’ve neglected my own birthday. I didn’t expect anyone to remember, let alone plan a whole celebration surprise party in my honor. “I- thank you guys. I honestly don’t know what to say.” I finally managed to speak, my voice faltering. I suddenly felt vulnerable, emotions catching right in my throat as the memories of family disappointment flooding back. Yet, while standing among my friends, a new warmth takes me into an embrace. This was love but uncomplicated and genuine which makes a soft tear roll down my cheek.

“Well let’s get this party started now, shall we?” Chris grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me to the couch, where they had already set up laughter-filled games and a playlist of my favorite songs. The atmosphere radiated with joy, and those initial bad memories and emotions I felt faded away, replaced with surprise and joy.

As we celebrated, each laugh, each honest word, chipped away at the walls I had put up to protect myself. The clinking of glasses, the sugary taste of cake, and the joy in my friends' eyes began to stitch together the lost fragments of my broken heart. I realized I wasn’t celebrating the absence of what had been, but rather embracing the promise of what could finally be.

When the time comes to blow out the candles, I wish for something different this year. Not for the day to disappear and be forgotten, but for the future where birthdays would mean love and connection. Laughter and joy echoes through the walls of my soul, when I open my eyes I was met with smiling faces, and I knew, despite all that had been, today had changed my perspective on birthdays.

This birthday was the beginning of a newfound respect for the day I had so long tried to erase—a day I could finally acknowledge as my own, filled with sweetness, acceptance, and the warmth of friendship. Today, I felt more than just celebrated; I felt alive.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. ��Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[lemoniiiiiii]

need a colin zabel fic where you are his annoying co worker yapping about your day while sitting on his desk (and on his files) swinging your feet and accidentally brushing your foot against his inner thigh and it makes things very much awkward and definitely brings up many feelings to the surface🩷

one on one

(colin zabel x reader) in where bothering your favorite co-worker results in something more than you expected... content: fluff, colin being a tired cutie a/n: this request was sooooo cute, thank you for sending it in! i love writing this man he's the sweetest ever.

--

"hey, you’re back!" you say, standing from your desk as colin walks past. without a second thought, you fall into step beside him, weaving through the bustling precinct as the noise of ringing phones and low chatter surrounds you.

"hey, y/l/n," he murmurs, glancing at you briefly before his eyes go back to the case file in his hand.

"a bunch of us are heading to the bar tonight," you say, nudging him lightly. "you in?"

he sighs, his shoulders slumping just a little. "uh… i don’t think i can—"

"colin, c'mon." you raise an eyebrow, keeping your tone light but insistent.

"i’m alright, really."

"seriously," you say, quickening your pace to get ahead of him, backing into his office until you feel the hard edge of his desk and hop up onto it. "that case can wait. you need a break, or you’re gonna burn out and be no use to anyone."

he stops short, eyes narrowing a bit, and lifts an eyebrow. "you’re sitting on my files."

"i… realize that now," you say with a small, sheepish smile. "but this works in my favor. i haven’t seen you all day. can we just talk for a minute?"

knowing you won’t take no for an answer, colin sighs, placing the file in his hand beside you, signaling that you have his attention. you launch into your day—going over the calls you took, the quirky regulars, and the case you were working on. but after a while, you notice colin’s mind has drifted; he’s listening, but his focus is… somewhere else, his arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"earth to zabel—hello?" you nudge his leg playfully, and just then he snaps out of it, seeming to have had some realization. he reaches for his files, but you shift to block his path, mirroring his movements.

"colin."

he stops, and without thinking, you place a hand on his chest to balance yourself on the desk's edge. the warmth and firmness catch you off guard, and when his gaze drops to your hand, then meets yours, heat rises to your cheeks. he’s waiting for you to say something, but all you can think about is… well, him.

"someone’s been working out…" you mumble, barely realizing the words have slipped out.

colin blinks, his own face turning red. "um, what?"

oh god, did you really just say that out loud?

"nothing—sorry." you stammer, quickly removing your hand.

he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "well, i'm glad someone noticed. didn’t think it was showing yet."

"that makes it sound like you're pregnant"

"i- you know what i mean"

"anyways… uh—are you coming tonight?" you ask, watching as colin moves around to the other side of his desk, meticulously organizing a pile of files. he seems almost too focused on straightening the edges and aligning them, as if using the task to avoid your question.

finally, he looks up, giving you apologetic smile. "rain check?"

you groan in exaggerated disappointment, crossing your arms. "seriously?"

"hey—tell you what." he points at you with a small grin, as if making an official deal. "i'll take you to that, er, new place downtown you’ve been wantin' to try."

you blink, surprised. that restaurant was fancier than you’d expected him to suggest. "that’s… expensive," and intimate, you think, though you keep that part to yourself.

colin shrugs, nonchalant. "it's no problem," he says, then quickly adds, "i mean, of course, only if you're comfortable. we can just hit the bar or whatever if that's more your style."

you can't quite figure out how to respond to that, so you fall back on your usual banter. “you sure you want more one-on-one time with me?”

his expression shifts in an instant, eyes widening as he realizes how his offer sounds—like he just asked you out on a real, actual dinner date. he flushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck once again. "is that… is that a problem?" he asks, the tone of his voice dropping slightly.

you tilt your head, feeling mischevious now that the tables have turned. "not really," you say with a grin. "for me, at least. you, on the other hand… well, you’re about to lose that whole ‘working out’ physique pretty fast.”

he laughs a little. "i think i’ll survive."

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8 @wcnderlnds @lacucarachapisser @xrag-dollx @oceanblvd111 @andiloveher @vi0l3tgard3ns

[iwritefandomimagines]

FAVOURITE PERSON — AJ (SWEETPEA)

masterlist

pairing: aj (sweetpea) x reader

description: in an attempt to get over your feelings for your best friend aj, you’re out on a date — but when aj calls to say he’s at your door with food, you can’t help but rush straight home to your favourite person.

warnings: bit of swearing but otherwise just fluff and cuteness and awkward confessions, may be a bit ooc as i’m still figuring out how to write aj !!! but hopefully you enjoy

author’s note: the aj fic drought needed resolving so i’m here to help! not well atm so it may not be my best work — i’ll come back and edit when i’m feeling better, just wanted to get this out <3 please please let me know your thoughts & enjoy!

———

“Oh just a second, I’d better get this.”

Your date, sat across from you in a bar you’d never normally frequent, looked less than impressed as you lifted your phone from the table and rose to your feet.

He’d seen the contact name before you’d had the chance to pick it up, but that was a conversation for later.

AJ was your best friend — and given that you’d not told him you were on a date, you didn’t want to leave him worrying if you didn’t answer given that you were usually chronically on your phone.

You slipped into the quiet of the ladies bathroom, pressing the answer button with haste.

“Hey AJ, what’s up? Sorry I—,”

“Have you got your headphones in or something?”

Your brows furrowed, “No, I’m—,”

“Well I’ve been ringing the doorbell for like ten minutes and I’m— shit, are you out? Shit, shit, shit, why didn’t I think of that?” you could practically hear him beating himself up for not considering the prospect sooner.

Why did your chest seize up at the idea of telling him you were on a date?

“Sorry,” you bit your lip, “Is everything alright?”

You heard him sigh, “In an apparent effort to win biggest idiot of the year, I’m at your door with an insane amount of Chinese food without having checked if you were even in the house first to eat it with me.”

“In your defense, you’re usually the only reason besides work that I do leave the house.”

That wasn’t a lie.

Since moving here, you’d made little effort to make friends.

You’d met AJ on your very first day in the area and clicked instantly, and now any spare time not reserved for binging shit TV was instead spent with him or, at most, his small circle of friends.

You’d toed the line between friends and something more for a long time, but given his awkward charm and the way women seemed to look at him (however oblivious he remained) — you’d never wanted to risk ruining your friendship by telling him it was something more that you wanted.

You’d settle for friendship, even if it was hard to ignore the butterflies that seemed to multiply in your stomach each time you were with him.

And that was how you’d found yourself on this stupid date, in a stupid skin tight dress and drinking cocktails you’d never touch with a man you could so far hardly even tolerate, let alone fancy.

Your attempt to move on from the schoolgirl crush you had on your best friend was so far proving immensely unsuccessful.

“Where are you, then?” he enquired, and you could tell he felt intrusive asking despite it being a totally valid question, “Since—since like you said, it’s unlike you. Not that you can’t be— I can leave you to it? More food for me.”

You gulped, eyeing the toilet cubicle door and considering how worthwhile this date really was.

“I’m just out for dinner,” you gulped, “But we’ve not ordered yet, I can leave.”

He coughed, “Oh nice, who wi— Oh shit, are you on a date?”

“It’s a waste of time, really. I’d rather be at home with you. In fact I’m craving chow mein, really.”

The embarrassment at your blurted honesty, combined with the guilt at calling your date a waste of time, made you want the earth to swallow you whole.

“You don’t have to say that, Y/N,” the disappointment in his voice was palpable, and you only hoped you weren’t imagining it.

“I’m not just saying it, AJ,” you sighed, “Why do you think I rushed off to answer the phone to you?”

He chuckled, believing you a little more now, “Who knows, maybe you were just worried I’d done something stupid and needed help from my best friend? Sorry, just had a long day at the Gazette and thought I’d burden you with my whining and sweeten the deal with some food.”

You shook your head, “I’ll be ten minutes, alright? Spare key is under the mat if you haven’t got yours — make yourself comfortable and don’t eat all the chow mein before I get there, okay?”

“Promise.”

—

Your date, whose name your AJ-hazed brain could barely remember, definitely did not believe your excuses for rushing out for a family emergency.

But you didn’t care — you’d sacrifice any chance of dating someone if it meant you could spend more time with AJ.

“Home, sweet home,” you announced the second you stepped through the door, your nose immediately catching the scent of the food AJ had brought over, “Fuck me, it smells good in here.”

Immediately AJ’s head peered round the door from your kitchen, about to make a jokey quip about how fast you’d arrived but stopping when he took the sight of you in.

The dress clinging to your skin was not like anything you usually wore, and for a moment you worried he was judging you for having gone out to meet a guy in such a low-cut daring outfit.

That fear dissipated, though, when you noticed the crimson blush staining his cheeks and the subtle bite of his lip that he tried to hide as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, you were, uh, quick,” he gulped, stepping out fully now and wiping his palms on his jeans, “Food’s all ready. You look—well, he’s a lucky guy— well, I guess he would’ve been. Or—or, he was for a bit. I’m—,”

You giggled, sauntering over to him and enveloping him in a hug, “It’s fine, AJ, I get your point. And thank you, but I’m going to have to get out of this horrible dress and into something comfy because I plan on eating twice my body weight and I can’t do that if I can barely breathe…”

“That’s cool, yeah sure,” you could see him trying desperately not to admire the way the dress suited your figure so perfectly, “I’ll just look for something to put on TV, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, before grunting when you realised how hard to reach the zip was. The cocktails you’d consumed so far had definitely gone to your head… Or at least that’s how you’d justify your next words, “Oh, do you mind helping me out with this stupid zip?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

Trembling fingers reached up with only a moment’s hesitation, the warmth of his hands against your skin making you jolt away from his touch at first.

He was quick as ever with his apologies, but as were you, “Sorry, your hands are just warm.”

In leaning back into his touch, your proximity grew a fraction closer, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he finally made work of your zip — agonisingly slowly.

You knew he was just nervous, but the slow pace with which he unzipped the dress made you involuntarily tip back your head a little, savouring the contact.

“Ah, I can breathe again,” you joked, straightening your neck in hopes he didn’t see your moment of weakness, though your words were only half true as said breath caught in your throat at his hand still lingering at your waist, “All this for a bloke I don’t even fancy.”

He laughed, a small chuckle that fanned warm air over your neck again and pricked goosebumps on your skin.

“What, you practically running home just for chow mein didn’t for a minute suggest that you weren’t into this guy,” AJ joked, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I didn’t just run home for chow mein, AJ,” you hummed, spinning around to face him and placing your free hand on his arm to steady yourself as the other held up your dress.

His eyes narrowed as he carefully considered your words, unsure whether he’d correctly read between the lines.

“I wanted to see you, dummy,” you rolled your eyes, melting under the gaze of his soft brown ones, “My favourite person.”

His grin couldn’t possibly have been any wider in that moment, “Your favourite, huh?”

“Oh c’mon AJ, you know you are,” you shook your head, “Annoyingly, actually. Anyway I’ll go and get changed, and then you can watch me eat like a pig and forget I stood here with my dress unzipped boosting your ego, yeah pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy?” he smirked, raising his palms for a moment as you teasingly flipped him off and walked off to get changed, returning moments later in shorts and a tank top.

You both plated up your food in comfortable silence, curling up on the sofa and devouring your food in front of the TV with continued quiet, acutely aware that you were sat even closer than usual and your previous conversation was still lingering in the air.

Placing his empty plate on the coffee table, AJ cleared his throat, “So, uh, what was the problem with this guy then?”

You gulped, “Just wasn’t interested. Not my type? And we went somewhere shit.”

“Right,” he nodded, “Yeah, no, I get it.”

“I meant what I said,” he was so close to you again now, and something about the proximity made you brave again, “I wanted to be with you, that’s the reason I rushed home. I like nights in with you.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” he was staring into your eyes with such intensity you thought you might pass out, “I like nights in with you too.”

“Look, AJ—,”

“Can I say something really stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, “Sounds ominous, but of course. Anything.”

“I really like you,” he said with urgency, “Like, really like you. Like more than friends like you. And I hope this doesn’t mess our friendship up, and I’m sorry if it does, but you came home in such a rush from that date and I was so relieved and I just got a little hopeful because I feel a bit, like, sick at the thought of you going on dates with other people and I liked that you wanted to—to be here with me instead.”

Your heartbeat sped up exponentially, the thrum so loud against your chest you were sure he too could hear it.

“If it’s not obvious, I really like you too,” you leaned in a little closer, your legs touching now, “The idea of you with anyone else makes me feel a bit sick too. Very, actually. I’ve been so worried about ruining things between us but then you were here and then you helped me with my dress and I—,”

“I had to try so hard not to say anything when you—when you leaned back into me. And that dress…”

You blushed pink, a small smile gracing your features, “I was hoping you’d not noticed, especially because I assumed you’d judge me for such an un-me dress that hardly left much to the imagination…”

“Oh it still left plenty to be desired,” he paused, “Oh wow that sounded creepy. It wasn’t supposed to. You looked gorgeous, I mean you always do, but I only didn’t like it for like a fraction of second out of stupid jealousy that you’d dressed up for him, whoever he is.”

You giggled again now, reaching out to interlace your hands as you bit your lip. It was a relief to have your feelings out in the open, even if you weren’t yet sure what this meant for you.

“So where wouldn’t be a shit place for a date?”

You clicked your tongue, feigning deep thought for a moment, “I think the company was more the issue. I’d drink tacky cocktails and eat shitty food if it was with someone I really liked.”

He nodded, his usual tight-lipped shy smile returning for a moment, “Great — I’d really like to take you on a proper date soon.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant you, huh,” you poked out your tongue, watching his eyes flit to your mouth as you did so, “No seriously though, I’d love that.”

Comfortable silence resumed for a moment, until his left hand reached up to pull you into his lap and his right one rested on your jaw, his lips capturing yours in a kiss.

You settled in his lap immediately, arms circling his neck as you reciprocated the kiss enthusiastically, heart hammering against your chest.

You weren’t sure quite how long you stayed like this, pulling back only to gaze at each other for a moment and catch your breath every once in a while.

“Mm,” AJ’s hands both held your face now, the pad of his thumbs soothingly rubbing over your cheekbones, “We should probably put a movie on, as much as I could stay like this forever.”

You bit your lip, “It’s been a long day, I’m actually a little tired.”

For a moment AJ looked confused, and then disappointed, and it took a lot for you not to giggle at his clear misinterpretation.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I can go,” AJ fumbled, dropping his hands to his side, “Sorry, I didn’t think about the time.”

You shook your head, “Babe, I wasn’t trying to get rid of you. I was going to ask if you’d like to stay over.”

His eyes lit up again, a smile returning to his kiss-smothered lips, “Oh— yeah, yeah, I’d love that.”

He was almost smirking now, scooping you up in his arms and quickly clicking off the television as he turned towards your staircase.

You leaned into him further, pressing a small kiss to his neck, “I could get used to this.”

“Believe me, so could I.”

———

ok once again i lost my way half way through and this was a slog to finish because i haven’t figured out how best i can write AJ yet … but it’s my longest fic in a while & i hope you enjoyed!!! please let me me know what you think and feel free to request more aj imagines, and if you’d like to read more of my works, here is my masterlist <3

[gunnrblze]

As One

Fed!Elias AU, part one. SFW (it’ll become nsfw though). Quite a bit of this first part is based off Devils Breath, which is intentional. Swear im not just copying it lol.

TW: blood, torture, vomit. it’s not too graphic but it’s there. Rorke is terrible, of course.

————————————————————————

The heat was suffocating.

Buzzing surrounded him, his head thick and cottony, pounding through his skull like a bass drum. Sticky skin and a dry mouth, Elias didn’t even need to open his eyes to understand what was happening.

He regretfully did so anyway, being greeted with the dim sight of some sort of hatch contraption, atop whatever hole in the ground he was carelessly thrown into. Every bone in his body ached, desperate to hold onto whatever strength he had left.

Mud coated his clothing, the heavy downpour soaking into the ground below, making his resting spot squish with every slight movement. Not that he wanted to move, but duty called. The deafening sound of a chopper whirled over his hole in the ground, a light that felt far too bright shining down on him.

Double checking, as he came to understand. Not searching. Not rescuing. Ensuring, that he was still in his place.

Merrick wouldn’t be obvious, not if he found me like this. They’d come quiet, he thought. Knew.

Elias also understood, in the back of his fuzzy mind, that he wouldn’t necessarily be getting out of this pit, not until he came and dragged him out. But he’d be out of sorts if he didn’t at least try. Why wouldn’t he try?

Bruised knuckles wrapped around the wet branches of his makeshift cell, eyes blinking to avoid being assaulted with the harsh rain. First trying a push method, only to fail once more as he fruitlessly tried to pull the hatch down toward his body instead, chains around his wrists clanking. Staked into the earth somehow, an initial wave of anxiety washed over him as he confirmed what he already knew.

He was stuck.

Stuck, but he’d been stuck before. He was a damn soldier. He gave it enough goes again until he realized that conserving his brittle energy would be the smarter option. His body was wracked with an ache of unknown origin, his mind not quite catching up to all that had happened beforehand. But he did remember pieces. Wasn’t as old as his boys liked to tease him for being.

Logan’s face was fresh in his mind. Twisted into an expression he couldn’t quite recognize, part of him felt fortunate for that. Bound to that chair above him, squirming and wriggling like it’d make anymore of a difference. He could hear the echoes of Hesh’s threats in the back of his head, vowing to kill Rorke. Crying out for the only two people he had left, clinging, like he did to his mother’s hip as a child.

Elias could feel the throbbing wounds on his chest burn from the bullets Rorke doled out, his hands trailing over them with a wince. They were no doubt on a fast track to infection, despite being shittily plugged and patched up between now and then. Who shoots you and then patches you up? A sick person, he decided.

His damned sick person.

He’d examine that lump in his throat another time. He didn’t have too long before the man in question showed up, he’d guessed. It was impossible to tell what time it was, the darkness of the sky above unrelenting. Impossible to tell how long he’d been here. Guessing by his wounds and his physical state though, not all that long.

He knew they had to be looking, though. That gave him an ounce of ease. The team looked for Rorke when he fell off the heli. For months. They searched for him, for their captain. He searched for Gabriel.

They had to be looking for him. Had to be. His sons would look for him. Merrick and Keegan would look. They’d all help.

Elias couldn’t remember what had happened after he passed out, though. Did Rorke hurt his boys? What happened to Merrick? Did Keegan make it back? Did they get out? Rorke was too unpredictable to gauge any of that comfortably.

The army had taught him how to keep his head on his shoulders. He wouldn’t dwell on the possibilities just yet.

He figured he might have time for that later.

—————————————————————-

Deep in the jungles of South America, Elias had little information to go off of as he found himself being manhandled out of the ground by two federation soldiers.

They looked more giddy than he’d liked.

Everyone had heard stories of what the Feds liked to do to their prisoners. Their victims. Hell, the proof was plastered all across the roughened skin of Gabriel Rorke. Branding him, the first of his kind to be taken to some place beyond hell, a space that transcended all others. Pure and utter terror.

The first of his kind. But not the last.

Elias’ head thudded on the soggy grass of the rainforest floor, groaning from the deep throb of his injuries. It was a split second decision he made, before he found his shackled feet kicking and twisting as methodically as they could out of the Feds grip.

“Perra reactiva, eh?” the soldier behind him chuckled, the man’s voice deeper than he expected to hear before a muddy boot landed against the side of his head, his vision blackening and taking over the burning white from the sun above.

The soldiers were younger, freshly trained and primed for the kill. Except Elias wouldn’t be killed by anyone. He hadn’t ever been all that lucky, he knew that much. His wife used to chastise him for saying it, telling him not to jinx himself, especially not in his line of work.

But it followed Elias around like a gray cloud, raining down on him without so much as a moment's notice. Bad luck it seemed, could alter the course of his life within the blink of an eye.

It was about twenty more seconds he counted until the two boys had him up on his sore feet, a balmy hand around the back of his neck, gripping tight as the muzzle of a gun sits itself on his lower back. Gnats swarmed his head, the blistering forest heat licking up his spine and drying his skin out already.

He didn’t argue their arrangement this time.

He forcibly walked toward a small structure a few paces away, to a hut like contraption that looked more flimsy and dingy than anything. Four pieces of aluminum, topless, so the sun can reflect off the walls he guessed. It housed a little metal bed, and some other nonsense he couldn’t quite make out from the outside view.

The soldiers talked over their comms only for a moment, before Elias heard that laugh. That deep, rumbly, godforsaken laugh. A shot of poison into his veins, souring his spirit immediately.

“Lieutenant…welcome!” Rorke swanked out. Out from the foliage, not making a sound otherwise. Phantom like, appearing out of nowhere as he locked eyes with Elias, a wicked little smirk on his scarred face.

Elias couldn’t miss the way Rorkes eyes roved over his ragged body, stripped of all his gear and weapons, the lieutenant looked more aged than usual. Chained and grimacing, he didn’t look nearly as threatening as he might have hoped in this situation.

“I see you’ve met my friends, haven’t ya?” Rorke taunted right off the bat, the two soldiers standing parallel to Elias with twin smirks of their own plastered on their faces. He didn’t speak to Rorke, not even when the henchman behind him dug that muzzle deeper into his back.

“Cat got your tongue, Lieutenant?” Rorkes smile dropped within the blink of an eye, his large form finishing its walk and stopping in front of Elias, arms crossed and eyes unreadable. Elias wasn’t afraid, no, he wasn’t sure what exactly it was he felt. Anger, frustration, disgust, a looming sense of anxiety? It was hard to pinpoint with the jungle heat weighing on his senses and the pain coursing through him.

And the lack of a game plan he had.

“That’s alright, Elias…I know just the thing to get ya talkin again” Rorke said, a dark satisfaction lacing his tone as he motioned his soldiers toward the hut behind him.

Elias wanted to fight, wanted to let the primal rage he felt unleash. Let the dam break and flood Rorke's jungle. But he knew better, knew better than to fight a losing battle. So he made his steps less defiant, figuring there was no use in arguing what was about to happen.

Rorke would give it to him regardless.

The older man almost enjoyed Elias’ uncharacteristic silence, as much as it irritated him. He followed his men into the hut, calling out for some other trigger happy little soldiers to bring their tools with them, to join the rest of the party.

Elias was stripped of his uniform and another piece of his dignity, strapped to the searing metal bed by two fed soldiers. His body was weak, covered in scratches and bruises of varying colors. The three gunshot wounds on his chest were inflamed and oozing, nasty fuckers that were slowly poisoning his bloodstream. It wasn’t too long before he could smell his skin singeing on the metal beneath him.

One soldier pried his jaw open, two helped shove a plastic tube down his throat and into his gut. Blood trickled hot from the corners of his mouth, sputtering on it as he uselessly fought against the restraints. His body was on fire and his head spinning.

What felt like a gallon of dirty water rushed down the tube and into Elias’ stomach, bloating him up and making his body go into panic mode. But he fought it, training kicked in like second nature, and he withstood it. Even with the soldiers laughing around him, mocking the gurgled noises he made.

Even with Rorke watching from the side, watching Elias lie unclothed and useless on the makeshift bed. The same one he’d been placed on, changed and transformed on. The one that still showed the receipts of his own body, skin and blood stewing with Elias’s now.

Bonding them.

——————————————————————

It was a cycle that survival and resistance training didn’t quite speak for. Tier ones are still human, after all.

Gabriel Rorke hadn’t been taken as a POW. No, he was the Federation's own toy. Theirs to create a brand new make and model of. With no one looking for the captain, he, in a manner of speaking, had become a real life ghost. No need for following the Geneva Convention when you weren’t handling a civilian or a soldier. Or a Marine, or a man.

No need for humanity when you’re no longer considered human.

Elias fell victim to this cycle. Pints and pints of water pumped into his stomach, punched out by Rorke’s henchmen. Filled back up and then thrown back up while his throat convulsed around nothing. Skin molded and burnt against searing metal, blood leaking from more than one orifice by this point. He hadn’t eaten in god knows how long, and the water forced in and then back out of his body wasn’t quite as hydrating as one would hope.

He was only able to wonder how it must’ve felt for his Captain. How Gabriel felt enduring the same treatment. Everyone breaks, the man had told him.

Water, spew. Water, spew. Cough up blood. Black out a little, but not fully. Not yet. Let the echoes of the Fed soldiers yelling knock more screws loose in his head. He was better than this. Stronger.

Until he wasn’t.

Until his body started to degenerate and his brain followed suit happily. Mind bouncing around various points of his life. He saw his boys, his men, in the distance. Then the sand sticking to the bloodied bodies of his brothers during Sand Viper. His wife, his boys again, infants in the hospital this time. Hesh’s head of thick hair, Logan’s insistence on not latching during a feeding.

His training was proving friable after all. Tripping around decades and wandering to stretches of his brain previously uncharted. Elias was thrown back into the pit as unceremoniously as possible, his wounds left to fester, his mind left to shrivel.

Rorke would not show him mercy. He didn’t expect any. That didn’t stop him from pitying Gabriel, though. Wondering what could’ve been, between every flashback his mind provided, every memory, good and bad.

Days went by, and he savored every rotten glimpse he got of the man.

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .3 • Part .5 (soon)

Part 4

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You had been in the car for 30 minutes before you finally arrived at his mysterious destination. Hanta didn’t let anything slip the entire drive, but the whole ride had been really enjoyable.

Listening to the radio with the windows slightly open, wind blowing in your hair, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting from time to time to his face and his hands gripping the wheel.

When you stepped out of the car you were greeted by a beautiful orange flower field in the middle of nowhere. A bit further away you could see another car parked right in front of the field.

”Hanta…that’s— that looks heavenly oh my” you mumble, shock visible on your face. You felt his hand in your back guiding you to the car who had its trunk wide open. There, you were surprised by a blanket covering the floor of the trunk, small lights taped on the inside and a basket filled with snacks.

”I like coming here to watch the sunset when I feel a little down. I figured you might want to see it” he runs his hand in the back of his neck with a small smile.

”Thank you Hanta, that’s lovely. I love this” you smile at him and his eyes get lost in yours as he sees the excitement fill your eyes. He feels stupid for not having the courage to ask you out. When he heard your voice through the phone, all he had memorized a few minutes before disappeared from his mind in a single second.

He cleared his throat and offered you his hand. “Shall we?”

You grin “We shall” you say as you take his hand and he helps you climb inside. You find a comfortable position and Hanta settles himself next to you.

You never would’ve thought that time could run by so fast with someone. You’ve been talking for hours about anything that crossed your minds. Not getting bored a single second. How haven't you noticed him all this time? How did Izuku never mention him and his other friends before?

Perhaps it wasn’t yet time for you to meet and you were made to crossways in a specific way or place, like this assignment.

When you think about it, it’s all thanks to that teacher for giving you that assignment. You wouldn’t have met Hanta without it, or maybe you would’ve but later on? but how long after, that’s the question.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Hanta calling out to you.

”Earth to y/n, you’re here bonita?” he chuckles at your surprised face.

”Yes! Sorry I um— got lost in my thoughts " you chuckle and turn to him more attentively.

”I was saying the sun is beginning to set” he points to the horizon with his lips and you straighten yourself up to crawl closer to the scenery. You cross your legs and feel Hanta doing the same thing as your shoulders lightly brush against each other.

Hanta let his eyes fall on your form as you sit here admiring the sky. He could smell your perfume, a sweet, warm and fruity scent he had grown to love and crave. It hadn’t been long since you guys first met but god did you drive him crazy.

To the point of his whole family knowing almost everything about you from how much he rambled about you when he went to visit them. Leaving him embarrassed anytime, they mention when he’ll bring you home and how they wish to meet the girl that had their boy so infatuated.

But what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he confessed, and it ruined everything you two had going on. He wouldn’t risk that. He would rather stay friends forever than not have you in his life.

So for now, he was just going to admire you from afar and enjoy the moments you already share.

As you watch the sun set, you take out the small camera you always had on yourself and take a picture. You turn to Hanta and take a quick picture of him as well when you thought he wasn't looking.

”Did you just—“ he grins.

”Nope!” You say as you try to hide the camera from him when he attempts to snatch it from your hands.

”I should be allowed to take a picture of you as well then, lend me that camera would you” he chuckles as he leans closer and begins tickling your sides.

“Hanta— stop that—“ you can’t help the loud laugh that espaces your mouth as you try to get his hands away from your sides. He keeps tickling you until tears begin to form in your eyes and you give up.

”O-OK! here” you hand him the camera with one hand and wipe the small tear drops that threaten to fall from your eyes as you continue to let out small giggles.

He takes the camera from your hands and snaps a picture the moment you turn your head at him.

”Wait, let me at least pose or something!” You protest.

”No, it’s perfect the way it is” he laughs as you cross your arms and attempt to look mad at him.

“Come on, I know you can’t stay mad at me for long” he nudged your arm teasingly.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “You’re right I can’t”

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you before Hanta speaks again.

”You’ll send me the picture I took of you?”

”Yeah, of course” You give him a closed eye smile.

a/n im having so much fun writing this, i can't stop skjsks ughh i love sero sm

[xxnashiraxx]

Tuesday Snippet!

Thank you @elinorbard for tagging me!

In case anyone was expecting it, I'm not going to be able to post Chapter 13 of With Stars to Fill My Dream today- I'll have to postpone until 11/10 so I have some more time to polish it up. I've had to edit some things in the story and add some setup for future events, but I've not recovered enough from vacation to do that all this morning!

Thanks for your patience! Have this little excerpt for now! ❤

“Are you alright?” Shadowheart pokes her face into Ofelia’s tent, pale and clammy. Ofelia scrambles to wipe her tears away, nodding and meeting the half-elf’s eyes. “Yeah… I think so… did you see it too?” Shadowheart’s lips set in a firm line, nodding softly. “We all did. Here, it’s dawn… come out. Let’s all sit and talk around the fire.” Ofelia heeds Shadowheart’s suggestion, pulling her boots on and fixing her hair into a loose bun, resolving to bathe before they start the day. Officially. She hesitates, once again finding her return to her bedroll to be a mystery. The last thing she remembers is swaying in Astarion’s arms, thinking about how pretty he looked under the light of stars, music from her own world making her feel like they were in their own pocket in time, separated from the tadpole, the cult, all of it. She remembers wishing he’d been from Earth, that way she’d want to go back… And try as she might, she can’t bury these stupid feelings. Her face flushes in shame at the memory of pressing that kiss to his cheek, that pang of longing when he hadn’t shoved her away but instead gazed at her in surprise… It made forgetting that it happened ten times worse. Then she returned to her tent, somehow, a faint feeling of unease now clouding her mind. How did she get back? Did she go back alone? She can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something important, but she can’t put her finger on what it might be… She walks out into the early dawn, stunned to find another surprise- a welcome one at that. “Scratch!” Ofelia crumples to her knees as he runs up from beyond the outskirts of their camp, the rest of her groggy companions yelping or jumping out of the way as the dog barrels into her. “Oh, I’m so glad you're safe!” She mumbles into his fur as it pokes her neck and cheek and he nearly knocks her backward. He licks her face and barks and she scratches his ears, giving him little kisses on the snout and top of his head.

No pressure tags! ❤ @pinkberrytea @khywren @verbenaa @inkymoonbunny @kalmiaphlox @coyote-mint @bardic-inspo @busy-baker @nerdallwritey @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @badbloodwitch @lanafofana @caffeinatedmunchkin +anyone else I may have forgotten!

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Intervention

Summary: Relativity/Reunion Falls AU, Mabel and Stan have a talk.

Masterlist

...

It’s when Stan gets upstairs and finds that Ford has moved his weird stuffed animal collection that is the absolute last straw.

“Okay, no,” Stan snaps, and Stanford immediately spins around from where he was setting a notebook on the nightstand.  It looks like one from downstairs in the craft store.

“Who said you could move my stuff?” Stan says, crossing his arms.  “That’s my nightstand.”

“Oh, uh— sorry,” Stanford says.  “It was cleared off when I put this here, so—”

“It wasn’t cleared off when you got here.  That’s my stuff!”

“Well, I thought you must have moved it—”

“That was your first mistake then, wasn’t it.”

“Hey, come on,” Stanford says, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, before seeming to catch himself and shoving them behind his back.  He still glares at Stan, though.  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The fact that you think so is just more proof of how much you’ve done wrong!”

“What does that even mean—”

“Hey!” comes a new voice, and both of them turn around to see Grauntie Mabel standing in the doorway.

“I moved your weird stuffed animal collection, Stanley,” she says.  “Ford needs a place to put his things too.”

“But this is my room!” Stan snaps.  “He’s just taking everything—”

“That’s enough,” Grauntie Mabel says.  “Come here, young man.  We need to have a talk.”

Before Stan can protest, she takes his arm and walks him out of the room.  They make it down to the bottom of the steps before Stanley yanks his arm free.

“Let go of me,” he snaps.  Grauntie Mabel lets him move away, but turns and crosses her arms, still appearing very firm.  She moves so she’s standing in between Stan and the attic.

“Stanley Pines, I have had just about enough of this,” Grauntie Mabel says.  “Ford has not done anything to warrant this kind of treatment from you.  Why are you acting like this?  It isn’t like you.”

“I’m being the unreasonable one?” Stan says, throwing his hands up.  “You just let another kid stay here without asking me first!  And he’s in my room and he’s moving my stuff!”

“I told you, I moved your stuff,” Grauntie Mabel says.  “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you ahead of time.  I should have done that.  But that isn’t Ford’s fault.  And he came here because he wanted to meet you.”

“Great, he’s met me.  He can go home now.”

“Stan.”

“Why?  Why does he have to be here?  I don’t want him here!  Things were good before he showed up!”

“Things might be even better with him,” Grauntie Mabel says.  “How would you know if you don’t give him a chance?”

“You know you don’t like brussel sprouts but you said you’ve never had them!”

“That’s a vegetable, Stanley,” Grauntie Mabel says, sounding slightly exasperated.  “He’s a person.  And having a sibling can be a really amazing thing.”

“Oh, how would you know?” Stan says, crossing his arms.

Grauntie Mabel takes a deep breath.  “I think if you gave Ford a shot, you would really like him,” she says.

“I don’t want to give him a shot.”

Grauntie Mabel gives him a look.  “Why on earth not, Stan?  You want to give everyone a shot.”

“Not the stupid boring twin who my parents probably only kept because he sucks,” he snaps.

Grauntie Mabel’s eyes widen.  “Hey,” she says, though her tone softens.  “Now that’s not fair.”

“Oh, that isn’t fair?  What about them picking him over me!  How is that fair?”

Grauntie Mabel crouches down and puts a hand on his shoulder, all of the anger in her eyes replaced with concern.  “It isn’t fair, Stanley,” she says gently.  “That’s not what it’s about.”

“Well— what is it about, then?” Stan asks.  His voice cracks on the last word, and he glares down at the ground.  “Why wouldn’t they want me?  Did—” he sniffs.  “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Grauntie Mabel says firmly, and Stan finds himself being pulled into a tight hug.  “Sweetie, no, you did not do anything wrong, you were just a baby.”

“But then why would they keep him and not me?” Stan asks, burying his head in Grauntie Mabel’s chest.  “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, sweetheart,” Grauntie Mabel says.  “Neither of you did anything.  This is on your parents, making a really unfair and awful decision.  It is definitely not your fault, and it’s not Ford’s either.”

Stan’s breath hitches, and when Grauntie Mabel pulls him closer, he breaks, and starts crying into her shirt.  She doesn’t say anything, just holds him close and lets him.

Stan isn’t sure how long they stay there, but Grauntie Mabel doesn’t rush him at all, even though Stan’s pretty sure all the crouching isn’t good on her old lady knees.

Eventually, though, Stan pulls back, wiping at his eyes.

“Are you feeling any better?” Grauntie Mabel asks.

Stan shakes his head and sniffs.  “Not really.”

Grauntie Mabel gives him a sad smile.  “That’s okay, bud.  This stuff is real hard.  I’m sorry you got it all sprung on you.  If I’d known Ford was going to show up, I would have told you first.”

“Why do you keep callin’ him Ford?” Stan asks.  “I thought he said his name was Stanford.”

“I thought it might be easier to differentiate.  Since you’ve both got ‘Stan’ in the first part of your name.”

Stan sniffs again and looks down, fidgeting with his fingers.  “Didn’t have to do that before,” he mutters.

“True,” Grauntie Mabel agrees.  “Sometimes you have to adjust things to make room for other people.  But it’s worth it, buddy.  Can you trust me on this?”

Stan meets Grauntie Mabel’s gaze.  She definitely seems sincere.

“Grauntie Mabel?” he asks.  “Why did you want me?”

“Aw, how could I not?” Grauntie Mabel says, and before Stan can say anything, she scoops him up into her arms.  “One look at those cheeks, who wouldn’t want to pinch ‘em?”  She proceeds to do just that, and Stan squeals in protest, trying to push himself backwards off Grauntie Mabel’s face.  It just makes her laugh.

She stops after a second and gives him a warm smile.  “Listen Stanley,” she says.  “There’s not a thing you can do that would get rid of me, okay?  I’m always gonna want you around.”

“Promise?” Stan whispers.  His voice shakes more than he’d like.

Grauntie Mabel pulls him into another tight hug.  “I promise.”

…

After a little bit more time to cool off, Stan does go upstairs to apologize to Stanford— to Ford?  That does sound better.  He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting to see when he opens the door to their bedroom, but it’s definitely not Ford putting all of his weird stuffed animals back on the nightstand, the notebook from before tossed haphazardly on the spare bed.

“Hey,” Stan says.  It comes out more awkward than he wants.

Ford turns to look at him.  “Uh— hey.  Sorry, I didn’t know how you had these set up before, but I tried to balance the weight distribution so it’s less likely they’d fall—”

Stan snorts.  “Man, you really are a nerd, huh?”

Ford fixes his glasses and doesn’t reply.

Stan sighs.  He walks over towards Ford, trailing his gaze on the ground so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes.  “Look,” he says.  “I’m sorry I’ve been kinda sucky to you.  I just— wasn’t expecting any of this.  I thought my Ma and Pa were dead.  I didn’t know I had a secret twin brother who my parents like more than me.  It just— doesn’t feel good.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Ford says quietly.  “I just learned I had a brother I never met, and I wanted to meet you.  See if you were better than what Pa said.”

Stan winces.  “Guess I messed that up,” he mutters.

There’s a pause, and Stan glances up to find Ford looking thoughtfully at him.  “What?”

Ford shakes his head.  “You didn’t mess it up,” he says.  “You said sorry.  That already makes you better than Pa.”

Stan blinks.  “That’s not a very high standard.”

Ford shrugs.

Stan doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he just keeps going with what he’d planned to say.

“So really I just meant, uh, sorry I treated you like them picking you was your fault,” he says.  “‘Cause it’s not.  Just… do you think we can try a do-over?  I promise I don’t actually think you’re a weirdo.”

Ford looks away, and Stan can’t read the expression on his face for a second.  But then his gaze turns determined, and when he turns back to Stan, he nods.  “Do-over,” he says.  “Deal.”

Stan smiles and holds out his hand for a shake.  But Ford looks at the hand like it’s going to poison him.

“Uh,” Stan pulls his hand back.  “Sorry?”

“No, I—” Ford shoves his hands behind his back, and his cheeks turn bright red.  “I don’t like handshakes.”

“Oh,” Stan says.  “Okay, no worries!  See, we’re getting to know each other already!  What do you want to do instead?”

Ford looks startled, like the question had never occurred to him.  “Uh…”

After a second, Stan can tell he’s struggling, so he waves it off.  “Well when you figure it out, let me know.  For now, let’s find a new spot for my weird stuffed animals collection.”

“Why do you call it that?” Ford asks, as they both turn back to the nightstand.

“‘Cause all of them are weird or messed up in some way!” Stan calls happily.  He grabs one and hands it to Ford.  “This is Steven, he’s a stuffed kitty who had a tear down his side when I bought him.  So I fixed him up and now he has a cool scar!”  He grabs another one and hands it over too.  “This is Eyeball.  He’s a spider where they put one eye that was different from the rest.  See, this one’s got a pupil, and none of the rest of them do.  This is Sally, she’s a crow with a cracked plastic beak.  And Grauntie Mabel helped me make this one, it’s Shmebulock, he’s my favorite gnome.  And this is my last one for now, she’s Nina the octopus!  She’s got an extra arm.  When Grauntie Mabel and I are out shopping, if I see a weird stuffed animal, she lets me buy it and add it to my collection!  Cool, huh?”  He balances the last one on top of the others in Ford’s arms.

Ford’s staring at them with an expression Stan can’t quite put a name too.  After a second, he nods.  “Cool,” he says softly.

Stan nods in approval of Ford’s approval, and then turns around, surveying the rest of the room to try and think of a better place to put it.

“You know, I think if I got Grauntie Mabel’s help we could build a cool display shelf!  We can put it above my bed, so I have easy access!  What do you think?”

When he turns back around, Ford has set all the stuffed animals down on Stan’s bed except for Nina, who he’s staring at.

Stan grins at him.  “You like Nina?”

Ford fiddles with Nina’s extra tentacle and nods.

Stan grins a little wider, walks over to Ford, and pushes Nina closer towards him.  “All yours.”

Ford looks up at him.  “What?  You don’t have to—”

“Nah, it’s okay.  Consider it part of the apology.  Just help me look for more, okay?”

Ford nods, a smile growing on his face.  “Okay,” he says.  He squeezes Nina a little tighter but doesn’t say anything else.

[discordiansamba]

the tea shop closes for the evening.

lee takes off his apron and hangs it up, saying goodnight to the owner. she wishes him one in turn, and he heads off into the night. when he gets home, he'll need to get started on dinner- his father often works until late. officially, he's an assistant to a minister at the earth kingdom palace. unofficially, lee knows he's an agent for the dai li- helping keep peace and order in ba sing se. it is a challenging job, and he is proud of him.

he's halfway through making it when his father arrives home.

he smiles at lee and asks how his day was. they talk as he finishes preparing dinner- household chores like these are probably the only other thing he's good at, aside from being a tea server. dessert is the plum tarts that old lady hanako surprised him with at work. he talks to his father in length about the gossip he overheard in the tea shop. he praises him for being so good at listening.

(for some reason, he doesn't tell him about katara.)

lee visits the bathhouse before bed, and runs into jin on the way home. she just got off her shift at the flower shop- she'd helped set up an arrangement for a party. lee walks her home. they kiss outside her door, and lee pointedly ignores the teasing he gets from her father- asking him when the wedding is. they've only been dating for a few months- they're far from ready for that.

he goes to bed in a good mood.

in the morning, he wakes up and gets dressed. he always rises before father, like clockwork almost as if he's rising with the sun. he fusses at his hair in the mirror for a few minutes with a frown. he knows his scar intimidates people, so he tries to hide it as best he can. he prepares breakfast, and eats it alone before he heads to work. he greets the owner, puts on his apron and gets to work.

it's mid-morning when the avatar shows up.

lee stares at him, stunned. he'd known katara had said she might come back with friends, but he hadn't expected the avatar. his fingers twitch slightly, and he frowns. they did that yesterday, too. he's hoping it's not a pattern- the twitching used to be a problem, a few months ago. it hasn't been for awhile, so he'd been hoping it had finally stopped.

lee greets the avatar with a deep, respectful bow. he doesn't see the way he and his companions openly gawk at him- they've schooled their expressions by the time he looks up. he smiles at them and guides them to the best table in the house. the water tribe boy with them asks what he recommends, so lee lists off his favorites.

the earth kingdom girl asks him if he likes tea.

lee laughs. that's a funny thing to ask someone who works in a tea shop- of course he does. he writes down their order and heads back into the kitchen. he doesn't see the furious way they whisper among themselves. he brings their order with a smile- and a few tarts on the house, courtesy of the owner. only the best for the avatar, she said with a chipper smile.

she's right. it's a rare honor to serve someone as important as the avatar. if he'd known he was coming, he would have told jin.

...maybe he can get an autograph for her?

oh oh! AU in which Zuko is brainwashed by the Dai Li into believing he's REALLY Lee from the tea shop.

oh fuck, sorry about your life zuko. and also yours, iroh.

azula doublecrosses zuko after the fall of ba sing se and hands him over to the dai li. she never had any intention of sharing the glory with him. she smiles and tells him that since he enjoyed working at the tea shop with uncle so much, he can just become lee forever.

lee wakes up in ba sing se, alone. his uncle is gone. the city has been taken over by the fire nation. his memories are a blur- he and his uncle went to the earth palace to serve the earth king tea, and then... he can't really remember what happened next.

the fire nation princess wants him to serve her tea. he can feel her eyes on him the entire time he does. she's smiling, but he doesn't like that smile. her other two friends just watch him with looks that verge on pity- but only when the princess isn't looking. part of him feels grateful when they leave for the fire nation. the other part of him just feels... angry?

lee doesn't know where to go, so he goes back to the jasmine dragon. he finds out jin has been looking for him. she asks where his uncle is. he just shakes his head and says he doesn't know. he went missing. she invites him to come stay with her family... but he turns her down. he finds a job at another tea shop. it's all he knows. he's not good for anything else.

princess azula left behind standing orders with the dai li to make sure to keep up her brother's brainwashing. he's stubborn, so if you're not careful, he'll start to realize things he shouldn't. it's why she does not bring him home to the fire nation, as amusing as the idea of having him paraded before the court as a servant is.

the dai li visit lee once every week. it is the same agent every time. they have brainwashed many in their time, but the prince of the fire nation is their masterpiece. he crafts an entire new life for him. lee is drowning in a sea of lies and he doesn't even know it.

iroh realizes something is *very* wrong when he hears nothing of zuko upon arriving in the fire nation. when he breaks out of prison, he discovers that zuko never returned with his sister- and feels fear in his heart. but with the failure of the invasion, someone must teach the avatar firebending... and it cannot be jeong-jeong. iroh asks the white lotus to search for zuko in his place.

it's katara who finds him by accident, after the war is over. she decides to take a break at a tea shop. she looks up at her server- and sees a ghost. a ghost that doesn't recognize her, not even a little- and with a sinking horror, katara realizes exactly what must have happened.

she can't even be angry at him for his betrayal. not when all it earned him was this.

(lee was born and raised in ba sing se. he has no uncle, but he has his father. he is an agent of the dai li, and lee could not be more proud of him. he got his scar in the accident that killed his mother. a tragic fire. an accident. he's been afraid of it ever since.

lee lacks talent. he knows this, but he has found a simple happiness in the one thing he is good at- serving tea. he chats with the customers. he remembers the orders of all his regulars. his life is simple, but he is happy. he has never once thought of leaving ba sing se. why would he? his entire life is here. he has his father. his job. his girlfriend jin. he doesn't need anything else.

...he would like this strange water tribe girl to stop talking to him now. he hides in the kitchen. the owner kicks her out for hassling his best tea server.

lee has been kidnapped. these people keep calling him zuko. he has no idea who that is. they take him to the fire nation. he needs to get far, far away from ba sing se, they say. somewhere more familiar. lee doesn't know what they're talking about. he wants to go home.)

[panhelleniios]

am I thinking too much about herc and his friendships and relationships tonight. maybe.

[galacticlamps]

actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be

First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:

my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)

But letting that go...

I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)

On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.

(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)

At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.

To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.

So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.

And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?

anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)

[justatypicalwizard]

Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut

It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.

This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.

Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.

The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.

It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.

So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?

I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.

I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.

I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.

I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.

I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.

I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.

“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”

You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.

“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”

With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.

“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”

He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.

A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.

You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.

Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.

“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.

“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.

There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.

You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.

“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”

“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.

“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.

“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.

You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”

“And you told me I can eat your ass.”

“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.

He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.

“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.

It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.

Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-

No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.

So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.

Tell me to stop and I will.

And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.

“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.

His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.

“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.

“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.

It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.

Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.

At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.

He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.

“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.

The sound of the faucet reached your ears.

“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.

The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.

You felt a hard push to the back of your head.

“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”

Eh?!

Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?

Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?

The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.

An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.

Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.

“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.

It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.

“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.

Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.

Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.

He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.

The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.

Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.

“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.

“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.

When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.

“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.

“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.

Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.

The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.

You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.

Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.

“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.

“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”

Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

“Just tell me to stop.”

Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.

“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.

It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.

“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.

“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.

You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.

“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”

“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”

Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.

“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.

“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.

“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!

“Of course, anything for you.”

That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.

You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”

But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.

After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.

“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.

“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.

At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.

“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.

“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.

“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.

“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”

[darthpeezy]

Since comments are off, I'm doing the most awkward reply of my life to OP.

In this case, I suspect we interpret the active intent of Area X very differently. In the original trilogy, I saw it largely as a passive force shaped by those it interacted with i.e. the broder coming down because of Saul or sending back its own expeditions in the form of the dopplegangers (and rabbits).

In Absolution, Area X is given greater agency. The whole expedition of biologists is happening decades before the Rabbit Experiment, except the rabbits are here with recording equipment from the linear future.

In chapter 25 of the False Daughter we get this from Old Jim:

And he was falling away, as the Tyrant too now fell away, for the moment was coming and he could see the word for it, the words the Tyrant had given him: Area X. Nothing in the end could placate Area X. Old Jim saw the way the land became overwhelmed with a spark from the lighthouse, and what came out manifested under the ground and spread and even when it did not seem to spread it was spreading, and though the coast was still and silent, the people who had been there existed in some form, in some place. How this would always happen and yet it could happen in ways much worse. It could happen so that no one ever survived. The Rogue hadn’t finished his mission, that was clear, and yet the Tyrant had continued on, and from the look in those strange eyes Old Jim didn’t know if he could tell the difference between the Tyrant’s eyes and the Rogue’s eyes. Only knew that he had reached his limit, his capacity, been brought to the edge of something beyond him. Old Jim wasn’t going to get to the end of the mystery, not now, though he’d almost run the gauntlet. An agent of the future acting on the past, but lost in the variables, unexpected collateral damage, mortally wounded in the process of trying to change … what? Forced to go dormant, underground, to evade the enemy, to avoid the very fate he wished to change—the future colonizing the past, as if every moment had a permeability that could neither be denied nor controlled, like an outstretched hand with the water draining off the sides back into the river. A man walking beside a huge reptile in the reeds. With all of history on the horizon. How could he not understand that part of it?

Area X isn't inherently merciful and the version we get in Southern Reach, which is the best case scenario, is one that actively needs to be fought for because Area X is trying to change things, and that change doesn't seem pleasant (the beach of bones, the warring armies, the further disintegration of people).

From 'Horse Tongues' of 'The First and the Last' we get this fun commentary on Area X's colonization efforts:

He could see even as it faded out of him with the dust, like he was a broken hourglass, so no point in turning him over, how Central had meddled in the business of the Forgotten Coast and how Area X had homed in on that first occurrence, that first appearance of its enemy, and attempted a beachhead there by redirecting what the Southern Reach itself sent through the Border at some point in the nearish future that Lowry had not yet experienced, but maybe he could stop it, except that the Changeling wasn’t trying to stop Area X but to just make sure everything happened as it had already happened. That the Area X Lowry had fucking experienced was the best possible outcome. That Area X would never not happen. There was no off switch, there was no other time in which it faded away or was not activated. But if it colonized the past, then everything would get worse, worse, worse. With the rabbits now came glimpses of the earth the Changeling came from, the colossus of ghosts of the alien that manifested, in time, after Area X had expanded. The relics of civilizations from wherever Area X had come from, manifesting, glimmering like a mirage, like poems never completed, but it wasn’t fucking real. It couldn’t be real. This future overlaid upon the marshes. These fantastical visions he could not quite credit, that he distrusted, as if they were the residue of drugs he had taken, was still taking, how there came across the face of the Earth such change, such decay and stillness and absorption that how could the violence of that, well beyond Lowry’s own fucking capacity for violence, the sheer negation of human life, not be understood as an extinction event. No matter who lived now in the water, no matter how Whitby Not had risen from that time and come back into Area X, that all might remain the same … so that Area X might be as it was now, that he might be as he was now … how that felt like the most cracked, fucked-up thing. That if granted the wish of any other fucking reality … it would be worse … than there. There would be no space for any human soul as the world spun farther off its rotation in the sense of the seasons, the terrain changing as Area X transformed it, and there was so much more spinning out of him with the golden dust and dissipating into the night that made him sad. How the details could not live with him long enough, that he could not see his place in this, that in a way he’d never felt from the real Whitby, some ghost of an influence in his head, some wraith of a cosmonaut stared out hostile at him and did not wish him to survive this, to know these things, and perhaps he would know none of them again when all the dust was gone, but also now he panicked that he would never be the same and began to run toward the lighthouse as if the lighthouse could save him, but really what he hoped is that he would find Sky there, and, yes, even Winters, and that he could explain this all to them before it left him. Because it was leaving him at an ever more fucking rapid rate.

Area X would very happily have an iteration of events where there is no border, no opportunity for Saul to exist, no chance for Control to jump into the heart of things and make a surviveable outcome. It actively works against humanity and is in what I can only call a time war (that humanity's already lost) against the Rogue and perhaps any other agents from the future-past like Hargreeves.

Before Absolution, I saw the expansion across the Southern Reach through its doppleganger agents (Whitby and possibly Lowry) as simple mimicry of what humans had been doing. After Absolution, I see it as Area X being forced into a state where it can't fully act on its desires.

The great thing about a Jeff Vandermeer book is we can both take away very different things from the same events.

i think one of the top things that stuck with me in absolution is how area x is pretty much confirmed to be an aggressive colonizing force that will destroy all life on earth, and yet something has changed it enough that this is the kindest, most merciful, almost loving version of itself in its evolutionary violence; that it is unique not because it's alien, but because it defies its intention enough to be of earth too. the way it leans so deeply into its allegory of climate change in its inevitability of consuming the world, and yet some act of something triggered a best case scenario for life to keep existing at all. both in the conservation allegory and out, that just.... i had to stop reading and take a walk with the mercy in that implication, even in its horror.