#like you cannot tell me he's the optimistic one

[nostalgiaclown]

I can't wait for Emmrich to make me cry like a baby, I don't know, guys, with what we've been told about him. I just know this man is going to make me sob.

[biblicalhorror]

Thinking about my Rook hours </3

[teamatsumu]

screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)

summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1161

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?

Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.

His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?

Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.

He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.

‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’

‘then just tell him’

‘u know i cant’

‘thats a u problem’

The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.

‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’

The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.

Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.

How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.

He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.

Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.

He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.

It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.

“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.

“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”

He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.

Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.

“Shin-”

He doesn’t let you finish.

“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”

You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.

“R-really?”

He merely nods.

Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.

“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”

There is a pause.

“You’ve received other confession letters?!”

[loveinhawkins]

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

[ma-yawntu]

mine, all mine. v.

chapter five: bad idea

pairing: neteyam x female!metkayina!reader

summary: you knew it was a bad idea to get closer to him... so why was it so hard to stay away?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of injury, blood, bruising, fluff

now playing... wait a minute! by willow

series masterlist

The more you thought about your almost-kiss with Neteyam, the more you came to realise that it was probably for the best that nothing happened. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly in the moment, too wrapped up in the rush of adrenaline you felt after punching Ao’nung’s friend in the face. You were frustrated and vulnerable and your brain seemed to turn to mush when it came to Neteyam; which bothered you a lot, because how could a boy occupy so much of your mind completely unimpeded?

You found your sister back in your family’s marui, silently thanking Eywa that your parents were still occupied with the little incident at the beach, likely still scolding your little brother for his lack of self-control. Tsireya sat on the ground in the middle of the marui, rather aggressively chopping vegetables to prepare for last meal later on. 

“Reya?” You called softly, tail swishing behind you anxiously. Tsireya looked up at you, eyes blown wide and you could read her thoughts in an instant. She opened her mouth slightly and you quickly brought your hands up as if surrendering. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“You were kissing him!” She whisper-shouted, ears pinning flat against her braids.

“We didn’t kiss, Tsireya,” you rolled your eyes, “you made sure of that.”

Tsireya sighed, dropping the knife with a soft clang and resting her palms on her folded knees. She looked up at you, her eyes wide with a mixture of slight hurt and curiosity, her hairless brows furrowed, “how could you not tell me?”

Your shoulders relaxed at her words, your eyes closing as you sighed shakily. You hadn’t uttered a word about your time with Neteyam to your sister while she talked your ear off about Lo’ak, to you it seemed pointless to mention; it would never happen between the two of you. She was your sister but it wasn’t that simple– Tsireya had freedom when it came to choosing who she would one day be mated with, she was allowed to look freely without the pressure of disappointing your parents. But not you– your life had been planned from the moment you were born, there was no way your parents or the village would allow you to pursue a forest Na’vi born from an ex-sky demon (as your mother put it), the notion was absolutely preposterous. 

“It is not that simple, Reya,” you breathed.

“I am your sister,” Tsireya stood up, crossing the room to grab your elbows gently. You avoided her gaze for a moment until she tugged on your arm, forcing you to look at her, “with me, everything should be simple.”

You breathed out slowly, lips forming a tight line, “it will not work– it cannot work between us… If mother and father find out…” You didn’t know how to put it into words to convey the uproar it would cause, but your sister understood, her shoulders dropping and her lips forming a tight line.

Tsireya paused for a moment before meeting your eyes again, “how do you know if you do not ask them?”

You wanted to laugh at that, you knew she was only trying to be optimistic but any optimism you had for your life had been squashed long ago, “you know what the answer will be, Reya.”

“Neteyam is hard-working and kind– he would have been the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya one day if it weren’t for the Sky People… There have been worse odds,” she shrugged. 

“You encourage me too much,” you scolded gently.

“It is my job,” she grinned.

You wrestled with her words for a while, occupying yourself with preparing fish for the last meal while Tsireya left to gather more herbs. You wanted to believe your sister with every ounce of your soul– believe that maybe, maybe, your parents would allow you to see Neteyam instead of forcing these horrendous meals with possible suitors down your throat. But deep down you knew it simply wasn’t possible– your parents wanted a Metkayina man for you, someone who knew the ways of the water and knew how to lead the people… anything other than that would be out of the question.

Your ears pressed flat against your hair at the sound of your father’s booming voice. Your father, mother and younger brother barging into the marui, your father’s hand wrapped around the base of Ao’nung’s kuru. 

“What was that?” Your father spat. Ao’nung’s body was slightly slouched, a bruise blooming just under his eye from where Lo’ak had swung on him. Your father let out a frustrated noise, “they are guests here, you do not cause trouble!”

Ao’nung didn’t answer and your mother hissed in annoyance before her eyes found you. You stood up almost instantly as she bounded toward you. Her warm hands found your face, moving your head around and pulling on your shoulders and arms, inspecting you for injuries.

“What were you thinking, maite?” she hissed, your eyes downcast as she spoke. “You do not encourage a fight!”

“I am sorry, mother,” you bit the inside of your cheek, knowing it simply wasn’t worth it to argue.

“Are you?” Ao’nung barked. You rolled your eyes as your parents whipped their heads around to look at their son. “You did not defend me.”

“You were being a skxawng,” you retorted.

“Maite!” your father yelled, silencing you in an instant. Your father eyed you for a moment longer before he let go of your brother, pushing him toward you, “fix him up.”

You wanted to scoff, instead you looked at your mother with a look that begged for her to fix your brother’s injuries instead of you. She looked at you and sighed, “we will speak of this later,” she said before glancing briefly at Ao’nung, she turned back to you with a frustrated sigh, “you will keep an eye on your brother.”

“Ow!” Ao’nung hissed as you pressed a cloth to the graze on his cheek.

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, “don’t be such a baby.” You flicked his forehead before continuing to work on the raw grazes along his skin. If you were honest, you weren’t being overly gentle with him like you were with Neteyam– mostly because you thought your brother was asking for it by being such a jerk to Lo’ak and Kiri.

“You’re not going to lecture me?” He questioned after a beat as you gathered some cooling balms to help ease the burning sensation of his wounds.

“Seems pointless,” you retorted, “you do not listen to me.”

“Rich coming from you of all people,” Ao’nung rolled his eyes.

You elected to ignore him and continue rubbing balms into his damaged skin. You remember the first time you did this for Ao’nung, he was barely seven years old and had scraped his knee on some coral while playing with some of the bigger kids. You had only just started your tsakarem training but you’d been patching up your own injured knees since you were younger than him. 

You remembered how he was trying to put on a brave face, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth as you gently washed away the sand and blood. You remembered how you held his hand as you applied a balm and dressing to his little knee and how you caught his little tears with your thumb and told him–

“It’s okay to cry when something hurts, Ao’nung.”

You often wondered what had changed in him as he got older, why the two of you butted heads once he reached his teenage years. At first, you were sure it was because the two of you were so different and you firmly believed he was arrogant and rude… But as you got older, the more you realised you butted heads so much because you were far too alike. 

“You should stay away from him,” Ao’nung muttered.

Your eyes glanced up at him and you were completely unreadable– a trait lovingly gifted to you by your mother. It drove your brother crazy how emotionally flat and withdrawn you could be. Your movements hesitated for a moment before you gathered more of the healing balm onto your finger, rubbing it into his graze. Your brother hissed at the pain and you rolled your eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m serious,” Ao’nung retorted. He knew you knew what– or rather who he was talking about. 

“It is none of your business.”

Ao’nung rolled his eyes, “you are my sister, that makes it my business.” You didn’t answer him because since when did he care what you did? You focused on rubbing oils into the bruise on the junction of his neck and shoulder instead of dignifying him with a response. Ao’nung watched your hardened expression and sighed, “Mother and father will not allow it–”

“Don’t you think I know that, Ao’nung?” You snapped, staring daggers at your brother. Ao’nung noticeably stiffened.

Your brother stared right back at you, his jaw clenching angrily. You didn’t need him telling you what a bad idea it was for you to be spending time with Neteyam– you already knew everything he was thinking because you’d already thought it yourself. 

You were pulled from your thoughts when someone cleared their throat, your ears perking up at the sound. You turned to the entrance of the healing marui, noticing Lo’ak standing there awkwardly.

“Lo’ak,” you nodded your head at him, praying to Eywa he didn’t catch on to what you and your brother were talking about. Lo’ak quickly curled his fingers at his forehead before gesturing to you. He too had bruises, not as many as Ao’nung but a few on his face with his knuckles sharing the same purple colour as yours. 

“Could I talk to Ao’nung?” Lo’ak asked, his jaw clenched. 

“Sure,” you sighed, putting your balms down beside you and shooting Ao’nung a warning look, “be nice,” you muttered through your teeth.

“What is wrong?” Teyoa drawled. 

You had been upset, stuck in your own head about everything going on with Neteyam and you found yourself at the fisherman's marui helping Teyoa and a few of the other elders descale the fish from the most recent catch. You hadn’t realised you were rather aggressively descaling the fish in front of you, nicking your fingers on the sharp edge of the scales.

“Nothing,” you retorted. Teyoa shared a look with the other elders, trying to suppress a smile at your lame retort. 

“It does not seem like nothing,” Teyoa replied with an airy laugh. 

You didn’t respond, electing to fold the cuts of fish in thick palm leaves. Working with your hands helped you to calm down, helping to focus your mind on the task in front of you instead of fighting with yourself about moral dilemmas. Teyoa watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing your rather sloppy folding technique given your bubbling anger. 

“Have you been practising?” Teyoa asked, attempting to move the subject away from whatever was bothering you. 

You sighed, shoulders slouching at his question which was a resounding no. “I have not had time,” you sighed, dejected. 

“There is always time, you must make time,” Teyoa shrugged. You gave him an unimpressed look, lips pursed in annoyance. Teyoa chuckled heartily, “I think you have an opportunity.”

“How so?”

“You have some of the best archers in all of Pandora staying in your village… Perhaps you should seek assistance?” Teyoa suggested with a shit-eating grin. 

Your mind immediately blinked to asking Neteyam; embarrassingly quick you might add. You knew Neteyam was likely one of your only options; he would keep your little secret from your parents and your meddling brother. Teyoa was right, the Omatikaya were some of the best known archers in all of Pandora, it would be stupid of you to not seize the opportunity. But it also meant spending more time with Neteyam… Perhaps alone with Neteyam. 

“You hesitate,” Teyoa drawled, effortlessly peeling the skin of the fish back.

“I do not,” you retorted, offended. 

“Then you should go and ask,” Teyoa’s eyes flickered behind you. You turned your head, watching as Neteyam stood on the edge of the beach helping Tuk and Kiri searched for shells ankle-deep in the water. You felt a smile tug at your lips as Tuk held up a particularly pretty shell in front of Neteyam, watching as he enthusiastically applauded his youngest sister.

You dropped what you were doing, wordlessly leaving the fishermen’s marui to approach Neteyam and his sister’s at the beach, Teyoa grinning to himself as you left. You watched Neteyam and Tuk, suppressing a giggle at how Tuk kept giving handfuls of coloured shells to Neteyam while Kiri took her time inspecting every tiny shell she found.

“Whatcha guys doing?” You called softly, watching how Neteyam’s ears pricked up quickly at the sound of your voice. Tuk quickly snatched her pouch of shells from Neteyam’s hand and held it behind her back with a suspicious toothy grin. You quirked a brow at the youngest Sully, “what are you hiding, Tuk?”

“Nothing!” she quickly retorted, swaying side to side on the balls of her heels.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know, the best shells are in the shallows of the reef just out there,” you pointed toward the edge of the reef where you could easily see other young Metkayina children looking for shells. Tuk followed your finger, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll find the most colourful ones out there.”

Tuk’s little face lit up and she quickly snatched Kiri’s hand, “Kiri, come on!” She exclaimed as she started wading into the water, splashing water all over you, Neteyam and Kiri.

“Slow down, Tuk!” Kiri called, slightly irritated. With an annoyed groan and a roll of her eyes, she quickly made her way after her sister, leaving you and Neteyam standing ankle-deep in the water.

“Are there really shells out there?” Neteyam asked curiously, a hint of a smirk in his voice.

You turned to him with a slightly offended expression, “you think I would lie to a seven year old, forest boy?”

Neteyam held his hands up in surrender, “you’re right,” he chuckled. 

A beat of silence fell over the two of you and you suddenly became nervous– since the last time you were alone with Neteyam you almost– almost– kissed him. Neteyam could tell you had something on your mind by the way your tail swayed behind you a little faster than usual and how you anxiously fiddled with your hands. 

The two of you took a breath. 

“Was there something–”

“–Could I ask you something?”

The two of you pulled your mouths shut, a smile tugging at Neteyam’s lips as you tried to suppress a smile, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. Neteyam shifted closer, “what did you want to ask?”

You were getting cold feet being put on the spot, thinking of just pretending it never happened and returning to your mediocre life. But the way he was looking at you made you feel so warm and in the end– Neteyam wasn’t scary, he would never make fun of you.

You sighed, “I need to ask– I wanted to… Could you–” now you felt dumb, unable to get the simple question out. Neteyam listened to you intently, his gaze making your skin feel hot. You averted your eyes for a moment, clearing your throat. Neteyam began to laugh softly and you frowned, “don’t laugh at me,” you whined.

“I’m not, I’m not.”

“It kind of seems like you are,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your hip out with an unimpressed frown. 

“No, it’s just–” Neteyam stopped himself, staring at you with such fondness for a moment, “you’re adorable.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at that and you became embarrassed, “shut up.”

Neteyam could only laugh and you rolled your eyes playfully turning on your heel to return to the village. Neteyam followed after you, too curious to let you go without knowing what it was you wanted to ask him, “hey, wait– didn’t you want to ask me something?”

“My better judgement tells me that what I wanted to ask is stupid and I’m better off not asking at all,” you called back, your tail swishing behind you and curls bouncing between your shoulder blades– Oh how Neteyam wanted to play with your hair– “But you’ve piqued my interest,” Neteyam retorted, still chasing after you as you moved rather quickly through the village toward the thick mangrove forest. 

“Consider me flattered,” you replied coyly, turning to walk backwards and shoot him a playful smile. 

Neteyam blindly followed you into the thick of the forest, truth be told he would have done whatever you told him to do no matter how ridiculous. He watched as you stood at the base of a rather tall tree, a small carving etched into the smooth bark. You reached up on your tiptoes, pulling a rather well-hidden heavy bow from twisting branches. He watched you, his tail flicking around curiously.

You held the weapon behind your back and looked up at him, “do not laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious,” you pressed, gaze narrowing at him.

“I promise,” Neteyam crossed his heart in a similar manner that Tuk did when you first met her and you could only grin at the gesture. 

You sighed before bringing the bow in front of you, holding it close to your chest. You kicked around some leaves with your foot, unable to look him in the eye. You hummed in annoyance, “I want you to teach me.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened a fraction, his eyes glazing over the crafter bow in your hands. It definitely wasn’t the best he’d seen but also not the worst and considering Metkayina used spears almost exclusively– it was pretty good for a first try. 

“Teach you?”

You frowned, heart drumming in your chest, “I am okay but I could be better.”

Neteyam’s eyes met yours and the corners of his lips perked up in a smile, “why me?”

You rolled your eyes, getting the feeling he was only trying to flatter himself by putting you on the spot and making you nervous (it was working). “Because…”

Neteyam tilted his head, catching your eyes again and silently encouraging you to continue. 

You hissed in annoyance, “Because I trust you, okay? And I cannot have my parents knowing I do this or Eywa forbid my brother.”

“You trust me?” Neteyam grinned.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you retorted.

Neteyam chuckled softly, “you are lucky, I used to train the young hunters at High Camp before my family moved here.”

“Those poor children,” you gave an exaggerated frown.

“Hey,” Neteyam playfully scolded, “I was a good teacher.”

“I’m sure you were, pretty boy,” you retorted, hips swaying as you started making your way toward your secret little part of the beach, Neteyam hot on your tail.

“You think I’m pretty?” Neteyam questioned with a shit-eating grin.

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, “I am teasing.”

“I feel like your teasing is always based in truth.”

“You are wrong.”

“I don’t think I believe you.”

“Are you going to teach me or not?”

a/n: i know i've been gone forever but i'm back!!!

taglist: @s0urw00lf, @peqch-pie, @greatsstuffsposts, @lavzxx, @quaint-and-curious-being, @rivatar, @msblacklupin, @ineedmentalhelp123, @ravenxx88, @alicetweven

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing.  I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

~

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

~

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

~

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

~

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

[nayziiz]

One Night in Miami | LN4

Summary: An eventful night with a close friend turns Lando’s world upside down when he’s forced to confront his true feelings about her. As they return to normal, he cannot seem to forget their time together and neither can she. Will they find each other once again?

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Renn)

Warnings: Smut, a lot of angst, fluff

Masterlist

Chapter 3 - Spain 2023

Renn wanted to be there for Lando at the Spanish Grand Prix, but work had her tethered to London, shooting content for one of her clients. The life of a photographer meant travelling everywhere, capturing moments that mattered to others while often missing the ones that mattered most to her. She had hoped, desperately, that she wouldn’t need to work that week, but reality had its own plans.

As she watched snippets of the race while tidying her apartment, her heart sank. The familiar buzz of the TV in the background did little to distract her from the disappointment that loomed large. Another tough race for Lando, ending in a disheartening P17, with his rookie teammate finishing ahead of him. She knew all too well how hard he would take it, blaming himself when the issues ran far deeper than his driving. She sighed, her heart aching for him. She knew how much he poured into every race, how hard he worked to push through the challenges. And now, miles away, all she could do was watch and hope he knew she was thinking of him.

It was like clockwork; first a text from Lando with the upside-down smile emoji, and an hour later, her phone rang. Renn answered immediately, her heart already aching for him.

“I suppose it would be stupid to ask you if you’re okay?” she spoke into her phone, collapsing onto her couch.

“Not stupid when the assumption is correct,” he replied, his voice carrying the weight of his disappointment as he took a seat in his driver’s room. “Can’t I just have one decent race?”

“Lan, you had a great start. That contact with Hamilton was unfortunate, but you finished the race, you didn’t retire or give up,” Renn tried to reassure him, her voice gentle but firm.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, you know. Like, am I going to be happy being P17 for the rest of my career if it keeps going like this?” Lando continued, his tone hopeless and devastated.

“You’re getting upgrades soon, though, right? What if those skyrocket your year altogether? Have you thought of that?” she countered, trying to inject some hope into the conversation.

“I can’t be optimistic when things have been this bad for so long,” he argued, frustration clear in his voice.

“Rather optimistic than on the edge of giving up everything you and your family have worked so hard for,” she retorted. He remained quiet for a moment, absorbing her words. “You’re Lando fucking Norris and you’re on the verge of greatness.”

“I really wish you were here,” he spoke softly, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at her heartstrings.

“Me too, so I can slap some sense into that head of yours,” she added, causing him to smile for the first time since he finished the race. “But, I do wish I was there with you.”

“Will you come to Montreal?” he wondered, his voice hopeful.

“If I don’t have work, then yeah, I’ll be there,” she responded, her own voice softening.

“Good. I’m heading to MTC sometime this week if you want to go have dinner or something while I’m in the UK?” Lando asked, the tentative hope in his question making her smile.

“Like a date?” she hesitantly asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“Not a date, just two friends getting something to eat together,” he clarified, although he wished it was a date.

“Fine, we can grab dinner,” she agreed, trying to keep her tone casual.

“I have to go debrief with the team. Can I call you later so you can tell me about how your shoot went?” he asked, his voice warmer now.

“Yeah,” she answered, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Talk to you later, Rennie,” Lando said, the gratitude in his voice unmistakable.

“Talk to you later, Lan,” she replied, her heart a little lighter after their conversation.

As she hung up, Renn leaned back on her couch, staring at the ceiling. She hated hearing him so down, but she was glad she could be there for him, even from afar. The thought of seeing him soon, of sharing a meal and catching up in person, brought a flicker of excitement to her heart. For now, she would hold onto that, hoping it would be enough to carry them both through the tough times.

The night for the dinner date that wasn’t a date finally arrived. Renn had spent the day trying to focus on her work, but her mind kept drifting back to Lando. She wondered what they would talk about and how the evening would unfold. Despite her efforts to keep things casual, there was an undeniable flutter of excitement in her chest.

Lando, too, was distracted throughout the day, thinking about the evening ahead. He had made the reservations at one of their favourite restaurants, a cosy little place known for its relaxed atmosphere and excellent food. As the time drew nearer, he found himself nervously adjusting his outfit, wanting to strike the perfect balance between casual and put-together.

When he pulled up outside Renn’s home, he felt a mix of anticipation and nerves. He texted her to let her know he had arrived, and a moment later, she stepped out of her apartment. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her casual dress and light makeup highlighting her natural charm. His breath caught for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a smile.

“You look stunning, as always,” he said as she approached the car.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” she replied with a grin.

They made their way to the restaurant, the conversation light and easy, filled with the familiar banter that marked their friendship. When they arrived, Lando led the way inside, where they were promptly shown to their table. The ambiance was perfect - dim lighting, soft music, and an intimate setting that made it easy to forget the world outside. They settled into their seats, and after ordering their drinks, Lando leaned back, looking at Renn with a soft smile.

“So, how’s the shoot going?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s been good, actually. Busy, but I managed to get some great shots. I think the client will be happy,” she replied, her eyes lighting up as she talked about her work.

“I’d love to see some of them sometime,” Lando said, his interest sincere. “You’re such a talented photographer, might just learn a thing or two from you.”

“Sure, I’d love to show you,” she agreed, feeling a warm glow from his attention.

Their food arrived, and as they ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly. They talked about everything from their favourite movies to childhood memories, and of course, racing. Lando shared some behind-the-scenes stories from the paddock, making Renn laugh with his vivid descriptions and animated gestures. While the evening progressed, the line between friendship and something more began to blur. The glances they exchanged were longer, the touches more lingering. By the time dessert arrived, they were both feeling the undeniable and familiar pull between them.

Returning to her apartment, Renn and Lando fell into an easy rhythm. Renn moved to the kitchen to whip up some hot chocolate, a comforting ritual that had become a tradition over the years. Lando made himself comfortable on the couch, glancing around her familiar apartment, feeling a sense of warmth and home that he hadn't felt in a while. She brought over two steaming mugs and handed one to him before settling next to him on the couch. The rich aroma of chocolate filled the air, blending with the soft glow of the lamps, creating a warm, intimate atmosphere.

“Thanks for this,” Lando said, taking a sip and sighing contentedly.

“Anytime,” Renn replied, smiling at him over the rim of her mug.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the city outside a distant hum. The warmth of the hot chocolate seeped into their bones, relaxing them. A subtle touch on the knee from Lando, meant as a casual gesture of comfort, quickly became more. His fingers lingered, brushing lightly against her skin. Renn felt a spark of electricity at his touch, and she looked up to meet his eyes, finding them dark and filled with unspoken desire. Lando's hand moved from her knee to squeeze her thigh gently, the contact sending a thrill through her. Her breath hitched, and she set her mug down on the coffee table, unable to ignore the magnetic pull between them any longer.

Without thinking, she swung her leg over his lap, straddling him. Renn could feel his growing arousal pressing against her as she began to move, gently grinding herself against the buckle of his belt. The sensation was maddening, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

“Renn,” Lando groaned, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements. “You’re driving me crazy.”

She leaned down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss, all the pent-up longing and desire pouring out in that single moment. His hands slid under her dress, caressing the bare skin of her back, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his heart racing against her chest, mirroring her own. Lando’s hands moved up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the fabric of her bra. She arched into his touch, a gasp of pleasure escaping her. She tugged at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against hers. He quickly pulled it off, and she followed suit, shedding her dress.

They paused for a moment, just taking in the sight of each other, the raw desire in their eyes making the air between them crackle with electricity. Then their lips crashed together again, more desperate this time. Renn's fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt, and Lando lifted his hips to help her, the urgency of their need driving them forward. Once his belt was undone, she pushed his pants down, freeing him from the confines. She could feel his hardness pressing against her core, separated only by the thin fabric of their underwear. The sensation was intoxicating, and she ground down against him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips.

“So good for me, baby,” he groaned, his hands gripping her thighs, guiding her movements.

She reached down, sliding her hand into his boxers and wrapping her fingers around him. He hissed in pleasure, his hips bucking up into her touch. She stroked him slowly, memorising the feel of him and the way he responded to her every touch. Unable to wait any longer, she stood up briefly, shedding her underwear and guiding him out of his boxers. The moment she straddled him again, they both gasped at the contact. Lando's hands gripped her hips tightly, positioning himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained with desire.

“More than sure,” she breathed, lowering herself onto him, both of them groaning at the sensation as she gripped his shoulders to steady herself.

She set a slow, teasing pace at first, savouring every inch of him. His hands roamed her body, caressing and teasing, heightening her pleasure. As the intensity built, she quickened her pace, their moans and gasps filling the room. Lando thrust up to meet her movements, his hands guiding her, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The connection they shared, the raw intimacy of the moment, was almost too much to bear. Every time together felt like their very first time. The only difference was how much more they wanted it after each interaction. It was a drug, something they could easily get addicted to. She groaned again, feeling every sensation all over her body as he pressed his body against hers, his movements deliberate and unrelenting.

“Come on, let me hear you, baby,” he encouraged her, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. The sound of it sent a thrill through her, and she couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her lips.

“Lan,” she breathed, throwing her head back, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. The intensity of their connection was overwhelming, each touch, each kiss, driving them both closer to the edge.

Renn's nails dug into his back as she clung to him, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sensation of his skin against hers, the way he filled her completely, was intoxicating. His pace quickened, their movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. She could feel him trembling against her, could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to maintain control.

“Lan, I’m so close,” she whispered, her voice a mix of plea and promise. The tension inside her was building to an unbearable peak, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she came undone in his arms.

“Me too, baby,” he replied, his grip on her tightening. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

With those words, she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation. His movements became even more frantic, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She clung to him, her breath hitching, her heart pounding, and then she was falling, her body exploding in a white-hot blaze of ecstasy.

“Ah, fuck,” she cried out, her voice echoing through the room as she came apart in his arms. The intensity of her orgasm left her breathless, her body shuddering with each wave of pleasure.

Lando followed her over the edge moments later, his own release tearing through him with a force that left him gasping. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin, his body trembling against hers. Finally, as the last tremors of their orgasms subsided, she slowed her movements, collapsing onto his chest with a contented sigh. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as they both tried to catch their breath.

“God, Renn,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. “That was incredible.”

“It really was,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

They lay there in a tangle of limbs, their hearts slowly returning to a normal rhythm. The intensity of their connection left them both feeling raw and exposed, but also deeply fulfilled. It was a feeling neither of them wanted to let go of, even though they knew their situation was far from simple.

Lando sighed, knowing it was time for him to leave. Their moments together were intense, passionate, and all-consuming, but they had made a simple agreement: to keep things casual, to not let their emotions complicate what they had. It was a struggle, maintaining that constraint, but they knew it was necessary for this to work. So, despite the pull to stay, he needed to leave.

“Let me clean you up before I go,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the dread of having to leave her. He lifted her off him gently and laid her down on the couch, her body still humming from their intimacy.

Renn watched him as he left to get a cloth from her bathroom, her heart aching at the thought of him leaving. The physical separation always felt like a small death, a reminder of the boundaries they had set for themselves. She sighed, trying to steel herself for his departure, knowing it was the only way to keep things from getting too complicated.

Lando returned with a warm, damp cloth, his expression tender as he knelt beside her. He began to clean her with careful, gentle strokes, his touch soothing and intimate. She closed her eyes, savouring the last few moments of their closeness before reality would force them apart again.

“There,” he said softly, finishing his task and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “All clean.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, opening her eyes to meet his. The tenderness in his gaze made her heart ache, but she forced a smile, not wanting to make this harder for him. “You should go.”

“Yeah, I should,” He nodded, though his reluctance was evident. 

They both knew it was for the best, even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment. Lando stood, pulling on his clothes and gathering his things. Renn sat up, wrapping herself in a blanket and watching him, trying to memorise every detail of the moment to hold onto until they could be together again.

“I’ll see you in Montreal, yeah?” he said, pausing at the door. “Text me when you’re done with your shoot tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promised, giving him a small smile. “I’ll see you in Montreal.”

With one last, lingering look, he left, closing the door softly behind him. Renn let out a long breath, the silence of the apartment settling around her like a heavy blanket. She missed him already, but she knew this was the only way to keep things from spiralling out of control. She got up, moving to the window to watch him as he walked down the street, his figure growing smaller until he disappeared around the corner to his car. When he was well and truly out of sight, her chest tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes. She had tried so hard to keep their arrangement simple, to keep her emotions in check, but seeing him walk away brought a flood of feelings she couldn't ignore.

Renn sank back onto the couch, her heart heavy with the weight of unshed tears. She had been so sure that keeping things casual would protect her, that it would keep her heart safe from the complications of love. But now, as she sat alone in the quiet of her apartment, she couldn't deny the truth any longer.

Has she fallen in love with him?

She sighed, turning away and heading to the bathroom to finish cleaning up. The echoes of their time together lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what they shared. But as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't ignore the truth. She had fallen for Lando, and the realisation left her feeling both exhilarated and terrified. She didn't know what to do with these feelings, how to navigate the complexities of their relationship now that her heart was fully involved.

She needed time to process, to figure out what her heart was telling her. Maybe she could find a way to keep things as they were, to enjoy the moments they had without letting her feelings complicate everything. But deep down, she knew that pretending was no longer an option. Her heart had spoken, and there was no turning back. She loved Lando, and that truth would shape everything from this moment forward.

Back in the living room, she collapsed on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around her. The intensity of their connection, the depth of their emotions, made it hard to stick to their agreement. But she knew they had to try, for the sake of their friendship and their sanity. Perhaps they needed to stop things before she got too attached. Maybe that was the solution.

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

Taglist: @fionamiller123 @f1fantasys

[churipu]

HAIIII IPIN !!!!!!! can i request gojo, geto, and nanami (separate) having a gf that's really optimistic? just someone who sees the good in everything and anything, and positive at all times! thank SOOOO much !!!!

JJK MEN + OPTIMISTIC GIRLFRIEND

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento x fem! reader

warning. people being mean to u >:(

note. HAIIII ANONN!!! i love this request bcs sometimes i read books, mangas, watch movies, you name 'em and see a certain character having the most positive mindset and i just go must protecc >:( anyways, thank you anon for requesting just after i opened the request box, istg i love all your ideas so much it makes me feel full <;33

GOJO SATORU. absolutely hates the way you try to see the good in people — specifically people who have hurt your feelings in the past. he just wonders what goes on in your mind to just forgive and forget everyone who has wronged you.

you did. but not him.

"baby, that guy called you names when you were in high school!" gojo whines, laying down on the bed, draping an arm over your torso, "why are you still willing to meet him?"

"satoru, he said he was sorry!" you smiled at him, tracing his features softly — the male grumbled but leaned into your touch, "and plus it's not nice to hold grudges, it's been what? how many years?"

a loud whine escapes his throat as he pulled you close, "it doesn't matter how many years it has been, he still hurt your feelings. and nobody does that to my baby," he said, miffed.

you couldn't help but to chuckle, "well, you are coming along, so i have nothing to worry about."

the male grins, "damn right i am coming, he better sleep with one eye open starting from now," gojo threatens.

gojo just cannot wrap his head around your concept of "forgive-and-forget" because you never hold grudges, you forget everything and still talk to people who've wronged you, and you still have the heart to accept them.

as much as people say "forgive and forget", they end up at least holding the tiniest bit of grudge — or even a bigger grudge, right? but you? you don't. you actually forgive and forget.

well — thankfully, not him. he takes his job to protect you seriously, from any kind of harm, including monsters (people who were mean to you) both in the past, present, and possibly the future.

"baby, can you stop hanging out with that one girl? the one who always wears the purple colored eye-shadow?" he asks you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"hm? why?"

"i don't like the vibe she gives out. it's giving...well...cruella de vil." he murmurs into your neck, nuzzling his nose in content as you went on with your skincare routine.

"satoru," you mumbled, "you can't just judge her by her vibes."

he groans, "but baby, i swear i could just feel it! she's evil," he whispers in your ear.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. just tell me if she does anything to you, i'll give her a piece of my mind (hollow purple)." he mutters out, pouting and upset as you brushed his speculations off.

GETO SUGURU. he loves it and hates it at the same time. geto loves how positive you are against the world — and what more does he need, really? it's you and him against the world at this point, although he feels like he doesn't contribute much to your positive energy (that's what he thinks).

geto thinks of himself as a pretty negative person. and you know. the both of you had a lot of deep talks about everything, including what you both had in mind. and honestly, geto wasn't surprised if he hears you talking about how your life was going smoothly; and his was just a contradiction to what you have.

it's life, people come and go. but geto seemed skeptical of that term, why couldn't people come and stay? he finds it hard to believe that you could be the one leaving him at anytime of the day, and the thought just terrifies the male.

the death of amanai put a hole in his mind that couldn't be closed off, and it fucking scarred him. but you were there for him, you didn't sugar coat words or tell him white lies — you tell him everything, straight to his face, and your choices of words made him feel loved. what else could he ask for?

"'m sorry," he mutters into your shoulder, and his voice comes out a bit muffled.

you brushed his nape gently, "it's alright sugu, you know you don't have to apologize for being sad, right?" you tell him, pressing a kiss onto the side of his head, "it's okay to be a little sad."

sometimes he asks himself if he really deserved you or not. but at the end of the day; you always convince him that he deserved it.

geto hates your optimism sometimes because he watches people trample over you and you brush them off with a smile, it makes him feel angry. he asks himself why you were doing this to yourself? believe me when he tried asking you to try talking back, or putting up a fight.

"angel, you know it makes me kind of sad that you'd let people talk to you that way," he said to you, grazing his finger over your cheek gently.

you shot him a gentle smile, "'ts okay sugu, what good do i get from arguing back to them, really?"

he just pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, saying nothing. god, he just wanted to protect you from the world — why does everyone have to be so fucking mean to you?

"will you be mad if i tell them off for you?" he asks

"depends on your methods, tell me about it."

"threatening them. if it doesn't work, violence." he mutters out briefly.

"sugu, no."

NANAMI KENTO. he doesn't mind it, he finds you endearing, really. a cat getting hurt? he'll accompany you to the vet with it. or a child crying because of a fall? he'll watch you help them without any single thoughts behind.

he just loves how selfless you are. nanami once read a quote, "when given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind." and every time he sees a selfless act from you — he just kinds of chanted it in his mind, and tell you what, nanami is such a proud boyfriend.

nanami loves how you see the good in everything, a person spilled their food on you? you tell them mistakes happen. a person bumping into you and then blaming you for it? you tell them you're sorry and thought that maybe they just had a really bad day.

but sometimes he couldn't help but to worry over you — someone so positive, bubbly, and optimistic around people who (probably) have disgusting minds. when he's not around to keep an eye on you, he just worries that someone might took advantage of your kindness and throw it out the window.

and he wouldn't be there to stop it from happening.

"ken, i'm going to go out for a hang out. it's fine, i've got my friends with me!" god, the jitters that he gets whenever you mention your friends — he was never really fond of the friends you have now, especially since they were trying hard to earn his attention. he knows they were just using you.

the texts they sent to him behind your back, the shit-talking about you, and everything else. god, he wanted to tell you about it; but he just didn't have the heart to, because he knows it will break your heart.

although nanami told them off quite rudely, defending you — it baffled him to how they still try to hang out with you with no shame after. and he tried telling you about how he doesn't like them, but you tell him it was fine.

"may i come along then?" just the thought of leaving you alone with those people pisses him off to the core, if he can't stop you from being friends with them — he will be with you.

when you agreed, he made it his job to expose them as nicely as he could. and he succeeded, oh the ecstasy he felt when you finally told them you didn't feel like hanging out with them anymore.

(and he ended up showing you the texts).

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[coca-lastic]

Takami Keigo: 5 Red flags vs 5 Green flags

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks).

Mi first lenguage is not English btw

Part 2 with Bakugo?

First of all, a relationship with Keigo can go very well or very badly. His life requires a very specific type of person, although he is not one to judge people and prefers to be optimistic when it comes to anything, it must be admitted that a person who is a little more "egoistic" could not stand the schedules, the dangers and harms that come with the hero's work.

In any case, if you are a person who, although you have flaws that might seem out of place with the style of life that has been imposed on Keigo, but you are still a person who is willing to do better, fight and resist for the relationship, believe me that the he will put the same as you and more.

Probably at the beginning there will be many problems, Keigo is not a man used to his life not being just for him, and perhaps you are not used to living with someone like him, but part of a relationship is learning, step by step and with a lot of time, love can change things if you use it well.

Of course, like any person, he has his good things and bad things.

🟥 Red Flags:

• At first he's a very independent and close person: Being independent can be a very good thing and a good sign, but when it comes to Keigo, it is not the same. His independence is too big to be considered a good thing, he has grown up and lived his entire life believing that he is the one against the world and only he has the right to know what is going through his mind, so it wouldn't be the kind of boyfriend who is asking your approval or telling you about his day. But he knows that that is not right, so I firmly believe that he would correct it to the point of telling you his problems.

• He's sarcastic: Come on guys, you could see this coming from the second this hero appeared on the screen and started making the most annoyed faces a face can make. It's not like he does it in a bad way often, but when arguments start he would get on your nerves with his sarcastic comments, probably minimizing the problems or making you look wrong, even stupid in the worst cases.

• You are the priority, but if people need him, he will leave: This is a very extensive topic and contains many reasons. You are the most important thing in his life, if you leave he would be totally devastated and depressed than anyone else could be, but he simply cannot reject the call, if his phone vibrates and they tell him that they need him he will already be acting the hero suit. It's not that he wants to leave you, it's that he can't stay, it's that he has been educated to always leave.

• He is jealous: Normally it is not something that bothers you, it can even be something that the two of you later make fun of in private, but there are some times that if he seems to be intense about it, he is not attracted to the idea of you leave, that you change him or that you abandon him, so although he always tries to keep himself in line, there are few cases in which he goes too far, when he marks someone as his rival he will forever be "the disgusting guy who wants with you", and he could say offensive things about him, start fights so that you stay away from him and even demonstrate his jealousy without any type of shame.

• "Is not that deep": I don't know why, but I'm very sure that Keigo would say this MANY times, like you may have told him that it's something that bothers you, or something that hurt you, or you're just telling him a story, and he responds with the damn "is not that deep." Partly it's because like I said before he won't tell you something just because it happened to him, so he doesn't understand why you're open about it.

OKAY BUT, he has hes beautiful Green Flags and all that, SO let's goOoOooOOoOOOoo

🟩 Green Flags

• He drives you to achieve and fulfill your own goals: He would be a man who not only asks, he also offers, he would never ask you to support him in his goal of a better and more relaxed world for those who are heroes without first supporting you in any goal that you have worn. You need money? He can give it to you, do you need to improve yourself? Ok, here he is to support you, do you just feel tired of trying? Well he will give you a reason to do it again.

• "Let's see each other even if it's just for 5 minutes?": He leads a busy life but he takes you into account in every second of it, it's true that it's hard for him to tell you about it, it's hard for him to open up, but he loves seeing you, even if he doesn't express it correctly, he loves to be there for you even though he may not tell you that he thinks about it, he loves to give you time even if it means more fatigue for his body.

• Stop having attitudes that make you feel bad: Did you read all the previous red flags? WELL HAWKS TROLL YOU BECAUSE HE CHANGE WHAT YOU ASK HIM TO DO, GIRL!!!! He would make an effort because he doesn't take it lightly, it is difficult and takes a lot of time, but he keeps trying.

• "I saw this and I remembered you": I repeat, Keigo takes you into account every second, even if at first he can't express it correctly. But he is a bird, he will bring you any stuffed animal, bracelet, candy, necklace, clothing or toy that he finds in a store and has a detail as beautiful as you.

• Hella touchy: Bro, if you don't consider this a good thing I'm really sorry but what the hell are you doing reading something about Takami Keigo, Get the fuck out of here! He will never have one hand far from you in moments of rest and time as a couple. A simple hand on your thigh while the two of you are eating or while he is finishing work papers, a few light cuddles on your hair while he is falling asleep, a hand on your cheek before kissing you, a hand on your waist to hug you, and if i keep going, I don't finish the list.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 99: Fate and Destiny

It took a while for me to recover from that incredible chapter, so I had to take time to breathe and analyze things. And after thinking about it for a few days, the first thing that comes to my mind is that, when it comes to love, it's all about timing.

Wouldn't you agree?

Something I hadn't considered before but that is very prevalent in stories are fate and destiny. Now, after this arc with two very side characters that no one took that seriously, I see it very clearly.

Did you know that fate and destiny are not the same thing?

Fate is about the events or outcomes that are predetermined and we cannot control.

Destiny is something we can change with our choices. It's a purpose or direction shaped by our actions, habits, and even our thoughts. Sometimes, because of our habits and actions, certain destiny is unavoidable.

Like I mentioned before, I see Martha and Henry as a foil of Twilight and Yor. So, even though their stories and circumstances are very different, it's impossible for me not to compare both couples. This time, I would like to do that through the lens of fate and destiny.

The love story between Martha and Henry is about bad timing, about fate, about loss. They had a huge obstacle between them: war. And timing really played against for these two; from the false alarm when Martha was about to confess, to Henry thinking Martha was dead just when he realized his feelings. Fucking bad timing.

The love story between Twilight and Yor starts because of fate. That random encounter in that tailor shop...if Yor hadn't teared that dress, if Franky hadn't made that comment about Anya needing to play the part of a kid from a privileged family, if Twilight had chosen a different tailor shop, if they had come at a different time... Do you see it? That part was 100% fate.

However, what's happening between them now is a choice. It's destiny. Whether they are realizing it or not, they are choosing each other every day.

Think about mole hunt arc. I've talked about it before (because it's my favorite arc): By not killing Yuri, Twilight chose Yor over his mission, over his fears, over peace, over everything. It's that simple. And it's destiny at work. I think that arc and that precise action is going to come back and bite him in the ass; first in a bad way and then in a good way. (I suspect Yuri will be the one who finally discovers Twilight's identity. It has to be him, it's Yuri's destiny. But I think Yuri will also be a key a element to save the Forgers from an awful fate.)

Anyways, going back to Twiyor and the topic of timing, even though Twilight has his angsty moments when he thinks he can't love anyone and stay with his family (cue the violins), I think these two have very good timing (at the moment). They live together, they are at a relatively peaceful time in their lives (and in the story), so this is the time for them to develop that bond.

Will it always be like this? Pshhh...of course not! This is a story and things are going to complicate and get really tough at some point. Fate (and probably destiny too) will put our dear Twiyor and many other characters in trouble. A friend once told me that one day things would be so tough that we were going to miss those silly and fun extra missions and I agree.

BUT (before you start crying about this), let me tell you something: This is when destiny is really going to kick in.

When things get messy, when the Forgers separate, when we don't know if we'll get a happy ending, this is when Twilight and Yor must decide they want to be together. Here is when they will choose each other, like they always have. And when that finally happens, not only it'll be a glorious moment, but also I think it's when fate and destiny will work in their favor.

Why do I feel so optimistic about it? Well, look at another couple who seems to be at that point...

Didn't I tell you that when it comes to love, it's all about timing?

Bonus

Chapter 100 is almost here! So, plot wise, I think it will all come down to: Who is in that cabin with Martha?

Some possible theories are:

a) The Shopkeeper. I still think Martha could be involved with the Garden. If we see a young Shopkeeper (they seem to be more or less the same age) or someone involved with the Garden, we could finally get some answers about that mysterious organization.

b) Yor's family. Yor's parents are probably too young here, but maybe her grandparents?? I know it's a long shot, but a girl can only hope 😄 Plus, everything is linked in the sxf, so there's still a chance.

c) [Redacted]'s dad. Why? Well, he mentioned going to the border during Twilight's past arc. If it's him, he's probably as young as Martha and Henry.

c) Someone we don't know (but that will become important in the story).

Since it'll be chapter 100, I'm almost expecting a big revelation, so I'm leaning towards Shopkeeper or [Redacted]'s dad. We'll see!

[neerons]

Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes

"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."

“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”

"You succumbed to delusion."

"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"

"...I want to make love to you."

"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."

"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"

"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."

“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”

"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I'm charming, aren't I?"

"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."

"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)

"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)

"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."

"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"

"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"

"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)

"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)

"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)

"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."

"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."

"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."

"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)

"I've always tried to be a gentleman, and live by the tenet that women are free to come and go as they please. But with you, I find myself wondering whether I should be using handcuffs, rope, or maybe a strong net."

"All right, then, I guess I'll just have to slip a few weapons into your luggage to help celebrate your departure. At the very least, I've already included a shovel." (—Clavis helping Emma escape from Obsidian)

"My brother is an absolute genius when it comes to angering people in just about every way possible. He outclasses us all in that, too." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier)

"Dearie me, don't tell me you're here for a secret tryst with my brother? I never imagined this unsociable beast might finally have his sexual awakening—" (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"(...) It's a water jet device designed to keep you cool in sultry summer evenings. I made it expressly for you. Isn't it brilliant?"

"The only people he could hold a proper conversation with were those who faced him head-on." (—Clavis' thoughts about Chevalier)

"(...) I don't care about me, but I don't think it's appropriate to be pointing guns at a woman, do you?" (—Clavis protecting Emma from 'someone')

"You really are gorgeous... I'm so captivated by you... that I feel I might forget how to be a gentleman for good."

"You could tie me down any day, my lovely fiancee."

"Ah. Hello, insecurity. I had not missed you at all. If I want to make my lovely fiancee happy, I'm going to need to start being more confident." (—Clavis' thoughts)

"You're so beautiful when you're watching something with rapt attention."

"How could you treat your kind little brother like this, when he worked himself to the bone trying to keep your library nice and tidy? I'm going to tell Emma on you." (—Angry Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well, first, I'd love to be able to pamper you in the bathroom. I want to wash your hair and gently exfoliate your skin so it's super soft. (...) Next, I want to hire a famous artist to draw a portrait of you than I can hang on my wall. I want one so big it'll cover the entire thing. Maybe I'll even get a bunch of you drawn. Seeing lots of you while I work would be good for motivation. (...) Also, I would love it if we could change up how we say good night. Every day, before bed, I want us to say 'I love you' instead of just 'good night'. (...) Oh, it's also my dream to go on a trip around the world with you! I just want to explore new sights with you and kiss and cuddle you in new places."

Cyran's bonus quotes:

"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)

"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."

"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."

"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."

"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)

"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)

"Really? Are you sure? Ahh, this is great, it means I can get away from my troublesome master for a while. I look forward to serving you, My Lady, and I'll do my absolute best for you!" (—Cyran replying to Clavis' order to be Emma's personal bodyguard)

"My Lady, you're the sort of person who worries constantly about other people, without ever thinking about yourself. Like at the party, when you tried to protect Prince Gilbert from that guy with the knife. That sort of thing."

"...Farewell, my peaceful days."

"...Stay strong, my lady. I know exactly how you feel, but know that I am cheering you on."

[loveephia]

Can you do Bokuto, Tendou Suna, Iwaizumi? So that they see their girlfriend again after she was away for a long time? I love You Work!!💕💕💕💕💕

how some of the HQ boys would react to seeing their girlfriend again after a long time from a business trip. (bokuto, tendō, suna, iwaizumi.)

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, them being very sulky generally, you guys are married here, suna's is inspired by a scene in the k-drama "true beauty", kita cameo in iwaizumi's, and yes, atsumu says an among us reference.

⚠ warning/s: manga spoilers.

note: THIS REQ WAS SO CUTE WHATATAT@?(# i haven't written for tendō, BUT i love a good challenge. >:3 iwaizumi's ended up being a bit long on accident. 😭 THANK YOU ANON AND ENJOY READING!!!

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

when you told him you'd be gone for three WHOLE months, his hair just drooped down, the gleam in his eyes are no longer there, and his childish grin is gone.

baby literally gets so sulky about it :(((

"do you really have to?"

HE HAS THE PUPPY DOG EYES AND EVERYTHING STOPPTKEPDK 😭😭😭😭

"believe me, kō. as much as i don't want to stay away for that long, i have to."

every day he wakes up (with his arms around a pillow instead of you), he tries to be optimistic

"another day closer to seeing my wife!"

can't have him messing up at practice yk

but when he finally sees you at the airport, gosh, he's just all smiley about it

he picks you up and spins you around like in the movies

"i missed you so, so, so much!" he's pecking your face all over, ignoring the looks from other people, because hIS WIFE IS BACK 😭😭😭😭

"kō.. people are staring." you giggled

"let them!"

SATORI TENDŌ

"no way—! you gotta be joking!"

HE IS IN UTTER DISBELIEF.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO BE GONE FOR THREE MONTHS???

"who's gonna be my taste tester then!?" his voice cracks

the tendō chocolatier business CANNOT FUNCTION WITHOUT IT'S OFFICIAL TASTE TESTER.

before you leave, he gives you a free box of handmade chocolates galore to snack on the plane

and, ofc, a little kiss on the cheek

when you open the box on the plane, there's a little note

"don't eat'em all on one go! love yaaa~ :3" HOW CUTEJKSJDKEJDK

when you're finally back from the trip, you stumble into tendō's arms

"oof—!" he says before patting your head, "there, there, y/n."

SUNA RINTARŌ

"what." he deadpans

"i know.. but i have to—"

"no way. i don't accept this. you're seriously leaving me?" he sounds so offended that people may think you two are fighting.

he pretends to be all mad about it, but you know he's just joking around

so when you're gone, suna has to physically hOLD HIMSELF BACK FROM CALLING YOU EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY

"she wouldn't want a clingy boyfr— husband." he corrects himself

yeah, he calls you anyway.

when you pick up, you say, "hello, my tarō! how are you?" in that sICKENINGLY KIND TONE SUNA HAS OH, SO MISSED 😭😭

you've only been gone for three days

"please come home. i miss you. please." did he just say please twice?

when you're finally home, it takes every inch of sanity left in suna so as not to drag you away for cuddles

the expression on his face tells you everything, and you giggle. "i'll just shower first, then we can cuddle." and his face LIGHTS UP

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

"even oikawa's said some terrible jokes, but this one is by far the worst."

"nope! it's not a joke, baby."

when you're gone, iwaizumi is so upset because you'd usually give him a little kiss goodbye whenever he goes off to work :((

so now he's extra grumpy while coaching the national jpn team.

"oi, hinata! you should've been able to get that one!"

"if you can't hit it right, another hundred laps for you, ushiwaka!"

"suna, stop slacking off, or i'll have that old captain of yours come back and scold you!"

suna knows iwaizumi's threat was only towards him, but that statement got even ATSUMU AND ARAN SHIVERING.

SO THE TEAM IS ALL LIKE "???" BECAUSE WHO PUSHED IWAIZUMI'S BUTTONS SO EARLY IN THE MORNING 😭

"which one of you is it. come on, fess up!" hoshiumi hisses

"i believe bokuto lost iwaizumi's pen the other day." ushijima states

"wow, are we just throwing each other under the bus now?" suna snickers

"it was an accident! i didn't know he'd get this mad about it!" bokuto tried to defend himself, "come on, tell them, atsumu!"

"i was in cafeteria with grey." atsumu lifts both hands up, metaphorically waving the white flag

"you all are insufferable." sakusa groans

you can imagine how confused the team got when after three months, iwaizumi's mood was no longer grouchy since you had finally come home

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

[nyoomfruits]

hello i am once again gently nudging you towards loscar with ³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.” from the roommates to lovers section 🫶🏻

i actually went happy this time r u proud of me

“i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”

“Hey,” Logan says, looking up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, Playstation controller in hand, bag of chips open next to him. There had been a part of Oscar who had hoped he’d gone to bed already, so Oscar could’ve slipped in unnoticed, stumble into his bedroom and mope about the sorry state of his life, but then again. It was only 9. Which was kind of the whole problem.

Logan’s face turns sympathetic. “I’m guess that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went, huh?” He asks, as Oscar flops onto the couch next to him with a deep sigh, not even bothering to take of his jacket or his shoes.

“Fucking hell,” he says, letting his head tip backwards against the couch pillows.

“So?” Logan asks, nudging him in the side. He’s wearing soft gray sweatpants and a t-shirt Oscar is 90% sure once belonged to him. “What was wrong with this one?”

Oscar winces. “When you say it like that you’re making me sound like some kind of overly critical serial dater.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. Oscar sighs. “Nothing, alright. Just like there was nothing wrong with the last one, or the one before that, or the one before that. They’re all just. Fine.”

“But none of them feel right,” Logan says, nodding knowingly. “It’s okay, we will find you the right person. They have to be out there, right?” He tips his head towards Oscar, beaming smile on his face. Logan has that, that undying believe in The One, that hunger for romance and meet cutes and The Perfect Moment. Oscar likes that about him. Loves that about him, his undying optimism when it comes to love.

He likes it a little less when Logan is using all that optimism to find Oscar The One, especially when Oscar has already found his One ages ago. He’s currently sitting next to him on the couch, Playstation controller in hand, looking at him with big hopeful eyes.

And god. If he knew there was a chance, if Logan had ever given a sign. But he hadn’t. He had just been cheery, sweet, optimistic Logan, the same way he was with their friends, and so Oscar had gone along with it, the whole Finding The One thing. It was good for him, he thought, going out there. Meeting other people. Seeing if there’s someone out there for him.

But every date, all that happens is that it confirms what deep in his heart he already knows: that he’s in love with Logan, and no one is ever going to be Logan. He’d cut tonight’s date short after only half an hour, not wanting to waste the girl’s time when she was clearly so into it, not wanting to string her on.

And it’s getting exhausting, so exhausting. The disappointed faces when he tells them there’s not going to be a second date, when he goes home early, when he leaves. The reminder, the constant reminded, that the one thing he wants, he cannot have.

“Maybe we should stop,” Oscar says, mostly to the TV, where Logan’s game is paused. “Trying to find me someone, I mean.”

“What? No, Oscar you can’t give up,” Logan stresses, turning all the way towards him. “We’ll find them! They have to be out there, right?”

Oscar closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, turns towards Logan. “What if I’ve already found them?” He asks, and god. Is he. Is he really doing this. Is he doing this now.

Why not now? His brain whispers. If not now, when?

“Oh,” Logan says, and his face turns almost painfully neutral. “Wait, really? When?”

“Ten years ago,” Oscar says. “First day of college.”

Logan blinks at him. “What,” he says, and then his face turns into a frown. “Oscar, what the fuck, have you been… Jesus, why have I been putting all this effort in to find you someone then? If this whole time-“

“I didn’t know if they liked me back,” Oscar says.

“And now?” Logan asks. He’s frowning, and Oscar wants to kiss the little lines between his eyebrows, take all his worries away.

“I don’t know,” Oscar says. “But it think it’s time I try.”

“Right,” Logan says. “Well, I still would’ve liked if you told me. We’re still best friends, and all. And roommates. Like I feel like this is stuff you would tell your roommate/best friend, you know? I mean, I’m not mad, about the dates, but I just think-“

Oscar cuts him off. Rather effectively, if he says so himself. His mouth presses against Logan’s half open one, and as far as kisses go, it’s a bit clumsy. The angle’s all wrong, and Oscar is still in his coat, and Logan is gripping the Playstation controller like it’s his only life line, and it’s really more a press of lips before Oscar is pulling away again.

“It’s uh. You,” he says. “The person. That’s why I didn’t. Well. Tell you,” Oscars says, a little awkwardly. It’s hard to guess what Logan’s thinking, which sucks, because usually the guy’s an open book. They didn’t kiss long enough for Oscar to definitely day he kissed back, and now Logan is just staring at him, slightly open mouthed.

“Oh,” he eventually says. “I. Wait. Why didn’t. Why didn’t you think I liked you back?” He asks, and Oscar’s heart does a little jump. Does that mean?

“You’ve been actively been setting me up with other people. For years,” Oscar says.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Logan says, looking a little bashful all of a sudden. “I just, you know. If it wasn’t going to be me, I just. I wanted to be someone good. Someone that deserved you.”

“What about you,” Oscar says, swallows. “Could you be… Are you someone good?”

Logan smiles, and it breaks open his whole face, lights him up like he’s the sun to Oscar’s moon. “Some might even say the best,” he says, with a cheeky little grin, and Oscar is too relieved to scold him on his cockiness, so instead he surges forward again, presses their lips together in another kiss.

A proper one, this time.

[msfantasy-anime]

Something Stupid

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: Izuku and Y/n finally make it official

Final Part

A/n: this was my first series started on this blog and it was never finished </3 anyway a rushed ending for the sake of closure.

Well there was no denying it.

You were head over heels for that bloody broccoli coloured hero.

God, how did you let this happen? How does one not notice when they’re falling in love?!

All questions that swim laps around your spinning mind as you try to make sense at the sudden shift in your heart.

Izuku Midorya, Japans number one hero, Deku, was the man who stole your heart. More so, he ardently admitted his love for you, and what did you do in return? Run away like the bloody coward you were.

This was just meant to be fun.

Feeling far too fragile in that moment to having your feelings returned. The prospect at a happily ever after in arms reach, it’s too frightening to give in. Besides your rational thoughts, continue to tear away at your optimistic thoughts.

Your a villain, plain and simple. He cannot be with someone who engages in illegal activity, it’ll ruin him.

His fan base will not tolerate someone who isn’t Uravity, he’ll loose his supporters.

It’ll ruin his career.

You’ll distract him from his duties as a hero, you might ruin his growth.

Your thoughts continue to spin erratically, abruptly stopping at the feeling of Izuku’s hand.

“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry for putting you in that awkward position. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.” Izuku said his hand caressing your own.

You quickly pull your palm away, feeling your nerves complain at the loss of comfort. Izuku only looked down at your hand glumly, sadden at your retreat.

“I cannot be with you Deku, it’ll ruin you. I cannot do that to you.” A small sad smile plays at his lips.

“I’m grateful that you are concerned about me, but seriously, you really don’t need to be so worried about my marketing, there are ways around it.” You begin to shake your head.

“No, Izuku, you are just confused. You’re in lust, not love.” You explain. To which Izuku looked firmly into your eyes.

“I know the difference, and I am in love with you Y/n.” Your cheeks burn at the declaration. Your mind reels away, coming up with a ‘real’ explanation. There is no way he can ‘love’ you, he barely knows you. “There are many things to love about you, and many more things to learn about you, but, the thing I love most about you is your unyielding compassion for others.” It was as if his words blew your dark world away. “Your whole career is centred around returning stolen mementos to those who cannot retrieve their rightful property. Your empathy for my friends- just you care so much about others. Even now, your telling me you don’t want to be with me because your concerned about how it would effect my career. But at no point have you admitted that you don’t love me.”

You bite down on your quivering lip.

“I-I can’t.” You whisper painfully. But Izuku’s face remains stern.

“Tell me why you can’t and I’ll leave you alone. Do you not like me?” You shake your head.

“… n-no…” The corner of his mouth tugs.

“Do you not want to be with me?” He asks, making your heart clench.

“No! I-I do but-“

“But what?!” He asks firmly, you continue to squirm under the uncomfortable confrontation of having to openly admit your true feelings.

“I’m just not good enough for you.” You finally admit, half expecting Izuku to accept your answer and agree. But instead he continues to press on.

“Why?” Your thoughts come to a stuttering halt.

“I… don’t know.” But Izuku stares at you unsatisfied in your response, so you continue. “I’m just … scared.” You whisper, making Izuku hunch into the table and grabbing your hand tightly.

“I’m scared too.” He whispers making your heart thud. “I’m scared I won’t get a chance to love you the way you should be- that you’ll reject me and I’ll go home alone. I’m scared that even if I put myself out there and we get together. You’ll just stop liking me one day and it’ll all end.” But you begin shaking your head.

In what world would you just stop loving Izuku?

“Fuck it. You’re right. I-I do want to be with you but can we take it slow? Figure out out footing first before we tell our friends?”

“Deal.” Izuku agrees, leaning over and planting a lip lock kiss.

[gece-misin-nesin]

I hope it’s ok if I rant a little about MHA because your post about Endeavor walking free reminded me of how detrimental some of the messages MHA can be. (I’ll try not to write much, feel free to delete this tho!)

It is so frustrating how the story doesn’t linger enough on the weight killing people that have yet to commit a crime, people that are a threat to the status quo, holds.

Sometimes I legit feel insane because people will be saying things like, “He could be a threat, so of course they should kill him.” And then talk about Deku and class 1A “changing the world for the better,” when the series doesn’t care to unpack its systematic issues past individual issues + the series essentially maintained the system that failed so many—resorting to reforms and expanding programs doesn’t actually solve the problem imo.

And it’s so hard nowadays to even try to have a conversation that entails criticism of the story, when so many fans fall for the condescending righteousness the story feeds as a response just because it came from heroes. Even though the story itself presents reasons why we shouldn’t blindly trust heroes (Endeavor literally right there) 🤦

Like, the story presents characters being oppressed and the ultimate response to their plight is constantly, “Just be a better victim.” The whole situation with Touya and Endeavor + what Deku says to Touya, is absolutely insane to me.

It made me sick to see people saying, “This is what Touya always wanted.” This is what people are taking away from the story, when many people who grew up being abused and didn’t fit the “perfect victim” criteria will tell you how fucked up that ending was.

Anyway, sorry for ranting. It’s so hard to find people who understands criticism in the MHA fandom 😭 The story has a lot of good points and potential, Hori just couldn’t handle it properly.

I am ALWAYS happy to listen to bnha rants!! I devour the bnha critical tag like a wild beast lmaoo

As for your thoughts, 100% agree. I feel like a big part of the problem is that the story spends so much time setting up systematic issues and then just..drops them? Acts like they don't exist? And instead it redirects all blame and reason to indovidual problems, like Endeavor for example. Touya became a villain because of Endeavor..but the conditions under which he became a villain could have been massively prevented if the ranking system didn't exist and if so much value hadn't been placed on it. Or if the wealth and privilege that being a hero had brought to Endeavor hadn't let people turn a blind eye to his bullshit. Because are you really telling NO ONE had even an inclination that something was wrong in that household? Really?

This also applies to Tomura. In the beginning The Walk where he spent some amount of time on the streets without anyone helping him seemed very important to his backstory. He didn't become a villain just because his father was a pos, he becane a villain because the state of heroism led to a society that glorified heroes to such an extent that people didn't help a bloody kid on the street because a 'hero would'. But instead most of his memories Deku interferes w are about the Shimura household instead of the very important bystander syndrome. And THEN to top it all off, we learn the stupid 'AFO orchestrated Tomura's whole life' thing. I cannot find the right words to express just how much I loathe that.

Anyway, Touya and Tenko are just two examples. Overall, the story chooses to resolve individual problems (and how well even those are resolved is certainly debatable) and frame them as the leading causes of villainy when its mostly systemic issues that cause it and then act like there were no systemic issues in the first place. I mean, literally no one has a problem with the HPSC casually having private assassins to commit extrajudicial murder, so. Guess Nagant should have just been "optimistic" and waited for someone to, idk, topple the literal government.