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dworkism · 1 month ago

Text

𐙚⋆° — reparation

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

warnings : i made this story from a dream i had guys pls pls sorry if its bad, reader is in support course :0, slowww buuurrnn, kind of IMPLIED but not explicitly said to be fem!reader (they just hang out a lot with the girls cause yea), LOTS of dialogue, and SWEARING , suicide joke SORRY

a/n : IM SORRY I MAKE SO MANY HANTA STUFF ZZZZZ i think i'll make eijiro next cAUSE this was kinda based off of this

➤ masterlist!

4,1k word count!

The Sports Festival was the first time you saw him. That lopsided grin present as his name flashed on the screen. Your first thought was how funny he looked. Sure, he’s cute, but those elbows are such a characteristic. You couldn’t help but snicker a bit. Seeing him get absolutely devoured by a certain two-tone haired, yet that smile persisted, as if it’s a stubborn stain, refusing to be washed away.

You remember that time, texting Kyoka about it.

[ 12:30 ] you : was that guy from your class lol [ 12:30 ] you : he’s kinda cute :P

And maybe that was the trigger point.

When Higari asked your class to create a gear design based off of a quirk, you didn’t sketch out a gear for yourself, or a pro-hero, no. Maybe it was just inspiration, or maybe just admiration; but you made a gear based off of him. The page is still stuck in your notebook until now, complete with little notes of each parts’ functions and whatnot. Even Higari himself nodded in approval. Yet the gear never came to life.

Or so you thought.

It was the middle of the semester when students in the heroics course started flooding the workshop. Around that time Mei seemed to work tirelessly day and night from how many requests she’s gotten from them. You were not much different, although the requests sent to you were quite a bit easier. Then one morning, that same lanky figure, lazing grin and laid back voice was present. In flesh, Hanta Sero.

His first awkward greeting to you was when you were carefully screwing shut a small contraption.

“Hey uh…” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck while his other hand was holding something, like scraps of metal or something.

“C-can you help me uh… fix this?” His grin grew, a look of guilt present in his face, mixed with sheepishness.

Your face contorted to confusion, brows stitched together while you attempted to figure out what was supposed to be fixed when all he held out was scraps of metals and screws.

With a sigh, you lifted up your goggles, and said; “I can’t fix scraps,”

“I’ll just make you a new one. Just describe to me what your gear’s supposed to do.” You chuckled, hands already snaking to the table to grab your notebook and pen.

And now here you are. Second year, second semester. You had grown close with the girls in the heroics course, especially Mina and Kendo, since they visit the workshop a little bit too often.

It was lunch time, you sat with the girls from 2-A, chattering and laughing about.

“How about you, y/n?” Tooru’s voice chimed through your daze. “You never tell us anything!”

You raised your eyebrows in interest, a hum to respond.

Tooru giggled, “You never tell us who you’ve got your eyes on! Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

You blinked.

Someone..?

You huffed a chuckle, “Nah, probably someone soldering iron right now.”

But then your mind flickered to that one page in your notebook. That lazy grin and those cheesy jokes he’d throw around while you measured his elbows, and how you’ve somehow memorized his blazer’s smell that always reeked of tangerines. Or maybe how he sometimes would bring your favorite snack with him, giving it to you as a token of gratitude.

Your eyes fell to your tray, your lunch still half eaten while your chopsticks hovered over your rice. “I dunno,” You shrugged. “M’ not really thinking of that stuff right now,”

Mina whined, “See? I told you! It’s hard to get y/n’s mouth to open about these kinds of stuff!”

A smirk tugged at your lips as you took a portion of rice into your mouth, chuckling at her acts.

༉‧₊˚.

You hummed to the song playing in the workshop as you carefully placed a small chip into the gear laid in front of you. A small tweezer pinched in your hand as you slowly descended the small piece, only for the door to open with an ear-cracking holler.

“yyyyy/nnnnn” Hanta’s voice whined, his feet dragging him to your desk.

“My gear broke, again! Such horror…” He dramatically collapsed himself, placing a hand on his forehead as he handed out his wrecked gear.

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you focused your attention on the gear on your desk again, carefully placing the chip.

“You do this every week like it’s a routine,” You chuckled.

He gasped, placing his hand on his chest. “Foul creature!”

He stood up, pointing his finger to the sky while his lips twitched to a smile. “I must tell you, this gear is simply not able to contain my true power!”

“Falling down the stairs is not true power, Han.” You grinned, screwing shut the gear as you examined it one last time.

“...Okay, fine I dropped it.” He huffed, “But it just means your work needs to be evaluated!” He argued, pacing back and forth as if lecturing you.

“You’re one to talk,” You snorted, setting aside the small gear to a box before turning your chair to face him, to face his stupidly grinning face.

He laughed, getting on his knees as he handed the gear on his palms to you like it’s an offering. “Pleaseeee, pleaseee, fix this, pleaasee?”

With a roll of your eyes, you snatched the gear, placing it on your desk for the umpteenth time, your hands already readying the same screws, bolts, and everything the gear needed, already embedded into your memory like it’s your mother’s recipe. “I don’t even have to ask what’s broken anymore, Han, it’s that often.”

“Hey, it makes your job easier, riigghtt?” He nudged your shoulder. “Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you, don’t you miss me sometimes?” He asked, pulling a chair to sit.

You smiled, hands pausing on the gears casing as you were unscrewing it.

“I guess,” You mumbled.

He chuckled, the sound coming out more like a shriek more than anything.

“I gueeess” He imitated, you can even hear him sticking out his tongue at you. “Lying is bad y/n. Admit it. Your workshop feels dead without me,”

“I like the quietness better, actually.”

He giggled, “Ouch, man, here I thought we were long lost siblings.” With a creak of the chair, he leaned to your desk, eyeing you from the side. “I’ll pay you back, ‘kay?”

“With what?” You chuckled, eyes fixed on the gear.

“Banana milk,” He snickered, “And maybe if I’m feeling generous I’ll also buy you those steamed cakes you always eat since our first year.”

“The fuck?” You snorted. “You remember that?”

He pssh’ed, “Duh?”

“You eat that shit like it’s a reward every time you’re done with like… five gears or something,”

Glancing sideways, you couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re weird.”

“You love me,” He teased, pushing himself to stand up from the chair. “Those steam cakes are ass, you’re weird.”

You mumbled a mock to him, sticking out your tongue as you reached out to grab a mold from the drawer.

His steps receded as he laughed, hands buried in his pocket while he walked backwards towards the door.

“I’ll get the original flavour,” He yelled. “Byeeee,”

Clack.

An hour and thirty minutes.

It took an hour and thirty minutes for you to finish that damned gear. To be exact, an hour and thirty minutes after you’ve finished the other gears before that. With a small groan, you stretched your arms above your head, your body’s slouch finally stretched out to fix your posture.

07:30 P.M. — The clock blinked, red bold digital numbers as if reminding you to stop and close the workshop for the day. So you did.

With a soft click, you locked the workshop’s doors, sighing softly to yourself while your other hand clutched your bag, keeping it on your shoulder. The floors of the building squeaked with the rubber soles of your shoes as you dragged your feet, echoing against the empty building.

Tucked away carefully in your bag was the reason. His gear, you even painted it in his signature colors; white, black, and yellow. Maybe that was the reason your clothes smelled like fresh paint all over, but you didn’t mind. You’d stuck a small note on it, written in your handwriting;

‘Don’t break this one >:(‘

The conversation from earlier rang in your mind again. Tooru’s sweet voice chiming that casual question, but somehow it bugs you a bit. “Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

Someone.

You chuckled softly to yourself as you mindlessly made your way to his class, no need to remind you again; his desk was third from the back, second from the right.

With a small noise, you placed down the gears, securing it into his drawer before you silently made your way out of the dark, empty classroom, then making your way to your dorm.

༉‧₊˚.

“Jeez,” Hanta muttered in awe, carefully examining the gears now resting on top of his desk. His grin grew as he saw the note, an expression—that of amazed and amused. His thumb grazed carefully over it, as if afraid to smudge it.

Even the colors were spot on, too, his colors. Small details you had implanted to the gear—maybe it was to ensure that he doesn’t break it again, or maybe it was just your way of evaluating your work. Either way, he finds himself grinning from ear to ear as he chuckles, looking at his newly fixed gear. You’d put an additional hole on the strap so he can adjust it more accordingly, the edges were smoothed out so that it sits comfortably on his arms.

“Shut up,” He laughed, the sound coming out more gentle—awestruck, adoring.

༉‧₊˚.

Knock knock knock! — The workshop door opened slightly, creaking as a shuffling sound made its way into the room. He’s right behind me, isn’t he.

“Moooorning,” He sang out, shaking the plastic bag in front of you.

“Banana milk, and steamed cake. Just how my favorite mechanic likes it.” He placed the bag beside your arm, “Yooouu’re welcome,” Pride laced his voice.

God, all you can do is smile, as you slowly peeked your hand into the plastic bag, peeking inside with the exact things he said. “You know you don’t have to do this aaall the time, right?”

“I know,” He shrugged, rocking back and forth on his heels. “But I wanna,”

“...You’re just bribing me,”

“I’m for reeaaaalll”

“...Thanks, Han.” You hummed, smiling softly as you reached into the bag, unwrapping the small steamed cake. The plastic rustled against your fingers as you tried to open it.

“You suck at opening shit,” He snickered, snatching the cake from you, ripping it open before handing it back to you. “Hm, eat,”

You blinked at him, feigning offense. “I was getting there.” You said, chuckling.

“Sure you were,” he teased, plopping down onto the nearest stool like he owned the place. “At the speed of a dying turtle.” The noise he made next was ugly. Imitating a grandma talking.

“Screw off,” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at him but took a bite anyway.

He watched you, arms crossed and chin propped on the edge of the worktable, eyes all full of mischief and… something else. Quieter. Warmer.

“You should smile like that more often,” he said out of the blue, his smirk faded into a small smile.

Your chewing paused. “…Like what?”

He leaned back with a stretch. “Like you actually like me.”

You shot him a look. “Han—”

“Kiddingg!” he grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Juusst kidding.”

After a small pause, he spoke up, “I gotta go now, my first class is heroics,” Hanta smiled, slapping his palms to his knees as he stood up.

With his hands in his pockets he walked to the door. “Byyyee, don’t miss me,”

“Oh, and finish the cake, it was super expensive.”

It had been like that for a little over a year now. He’d come to you, whining about his broken gear, begging on his knees for you to fix it—and every time you did so, you threatened him to never break it again or you’re not fixing it ever again. But that never happened. Every time he whined back to you, you’d fix it, no matter how much you groaned about it, you still fixed it for him. And he’d come to you the next morning to bring your favorites; always the same banana milk and steamed cake.

And honestly? It stuck to you. It became a small little routine for you, something you’d grown used to. But today—after yesterday’s little chat at lunch—it felt special, somehow. It felt like he saw you, like he…

…cares about you.

But that was just a silly thought.

You snorted.

Hanta’s nice. That’s what he is, nice, friendly. Welcoming to everyone, and you were no exception.

༉‧₊˚.

God, these projects show no mercy. And if you weren’t that much of a procrastinator, maybe these wouldn’t be stacked up into a bundle that you had to finish by tomorrow. A small grumble left your lips as you tweaked the final blueprint, scratching down the stiff paper before huffing a small celebration, rolling it up to tuck it behind your desk.

The clock showed the time—06:30 P.M.

Ugh. You missed your show again. With a small sigh, you stepped towards the door, rummaging through your pocket to ready the keys and lock the door.

Clack. The door closed, the lock clicking softly as you turned it to the right, jingling before you stuffed it back into your pocket.

“Like you actually like me.” His joke echoed.

His joke.

You brushed it off, even though a small smile tugged on your lips as you adjusted your bag over your shoulder, steps light towards the exit.

Wait. Is that…?

Standing by the gates was that same lanky figure, tall and lilt, hair slicked from the rain while his laugh echoed through it. You almost smiled, almost laughed at his face. Almost. Before you saw her. A small girl standing next to him, smiling so sweetly at him while his blazer was draped over her, fitting and perfect. The same blazer he usually draped over your shoulder when the workshop felt too cold, and he felt too warm. The one that had a small twinge of oil stuck to its cuff. The one that smelled like tangerines.

He said something. Something that made her laugh. And he smiled at that. He smiled at her laugh.

Like he was proud of it.

You felt your chest twist. Scrunched up and stretched. The rain wasn’t making anything better. The fact that you’re tired and pent up from today made everything worse.

So you ran.

You ran past them, bag over your head as you picked up your pace, your face was wet, and cold, not just from the rain. You hoped he didn’t see you, didn’t see that grimace you had on your face, didn’t see the way you bit your lip. But you hoped he did. Hoped he saw you.

The streets were blurry by the rain, thunder clapping above your head as you ran to the dorms. And you slipped. Slipped just enough to make you drop to your knees and scraped your palms. You groaned in frustration, in hurt.

So all this time you were just his fixer upper? Cool.

༉‧₊˚.

Two weeks.

It took him two weeks to notice something was wrong. Sure, you still fixed his gear, although he didn’t break them this time. Said they were ‘too pretty’ to be broken, but even that didn’t earn your usual witty remark, you just smiled faintly to him.

But he brushed it off.

Maybe you were just tired, maybe his trick of ‘breaking’ his gear was starting to piss you off. Maybe he needed a new excuse to see you other than fixing his gear.

Maybe you were growing tired of him. Naaaahhh. No way, jose.

You like his company, you enjoy being around him. He sees that, he sees you.

…But why were you pulling away? Did he say something? Okay maybe he did throw a small offensive joke. But you always laughed at that! So what was wrong? What was so wrong that you’re not even laughing at his jokes? His actions? Him?

Okay, fine. Whatever. Maybe you just needed some space.

So he gave you that.

But the moment he came into the workshop shaking your usual banana milk and steamed cake combo, and you rejected that?

“I’m good, Han. Thanks.” You replied. Blunt, short, precise, to-the-motherfucking-point.

Oh he screwed up. He screwed something up.

“Oh, uh..”

“Okay, I’ll uh… give this to Denks then, dude eats everything.” He chuckled awkwardly, the plastic rustling by his side.

“Mhm, okay.”

Shiiiittt he’s so screwed.

You didn’t even chuckle, and that’s how he knew.

༉‧₊˚.

“They hate me. They hate me so bad. I’m killing myself.” Hanta whined to his pillow, Kaminari perched by the edge of his bed.

“They didn’t even CHUCKLE at me, Den.” He groaned, his muffled voice cracking as he threw his arms up.

Kaminari sighed, arms folded as he glanced at the ravenette. “You’re being dramatic, Han.”

“No I’m not!” He protested, shooting up from his bed to sit up. “I’m not, okay? I just—I don’t know what I did, I just—...” He sighed, flopping back into his bed, groaning as he ran his hands over his face. “I don’t wanna lose them, Den..” He mumbled in a trembling voice.

“Then tell them that.” Kaminari shrugged, a chuckle on his lips as he scooted closer, patting Hanta’s thigh.

“...How?” He croaked back. “I don’t even know what I did wrong, dude I just…”

“Two weeks ago we were fine, I even made risky ass jokes to them and they laughed! And when I was lending that girl my blazer—”

Kaminari whistled. “Bingo.”

The bed shuffled as he sat up, head darting to Kaminari’s way while his mouth hung open. “Shit.”

“Go, Han.”

༉‧₊˚.

The halls of UA had never felt so… suffocating. He’s been here before, like hours like these too. Just now he feels like he’s risking his life as he stares at the slightly cracked open door of the support course workshop. His steps felt heavy, like lead weights dragged through the ground, and his mouth felt dry, like water had never touched his tongue, and suddenly the plastic bag in his right hand felt too plastic-y. The faint tune of your favorite song was humming through the air, as well as the consistent whir of the sanding machine.

As he slowly pushed the door open, the creak felt loud—too loud. Loud enough for you to dart your eyes to the door and paused your hand. His throat fell dry, drier than before.

“H-hey,” He grinned. It felt too wide, too stiff. But he didn’t care.

You held your gaze on him for a moment, brows furrowed, and he swore even when he couldn’t see your eyes through your goggles, he felt your stare pierce through him.

The sanding machine came to life again, louder this time as you ducked your head back to the gear in your hand. “Hey,” you mumbled back, not bothering to look at him.

“I uh…”

“I wanted to talk to you,” He chuckled, stepping just a bit closer, his hand gripping the plastic bag tighter.

Perhaps his portion of response from you had run out. You stayed silent as you continued sanding the casing of the gear, stopping briefly to examine it.

“...Y-you’re mad, at me, …I think,”

“And I uh…I just… I wanted to fix that, y/n.” He shifted his weight between his feet, chewing his bottom lip as you slowly paused the machine, setting it aside on your desk.

“Why?” You bluntly asked. Perching your elbow on your armrest as you lifted up your goggles.

God, you’re such a sight to him. Even angry and frowning at him like this, you took his breath away, if not more.

“B-because—...”

“I care?”

“I mean–! I care, I care, …I care… a lot,” He grinned again, nodding as if convincing himself before he cleared his throat, louder than necessary. “I care… I care about you, y/n.”

His gaze fell to the ground, pressing his lips into a thin line, he shut his eyes. “I…I made a mistake, okay? A-and… I hurt you, and I’m… real sorry, y/n.”

“...I don’t…wanna lose you,” He breathed that out, coming out barely above a whisper while his hand gripped the plastic bag tighter.

“Look–.. that one time, y-you saw me with that girl at the gate? S-she meant nothing, okay?”

“I just…wanted to be nice,” He muttered quietly, almost as if in shame.

“You’re always nice, Han.” You blurted, finally opening up your voice. It felt cold, different from what he was so used to hearing. “You’re always nice to everyone, aren’t you?” Your voice shook.

“...You probably think this is stupid, I don’t care.” You spat, your voice held a small tinge of anger in it.

“You made me think that you… you liked me, and—”

“Because I do.”

The words hung there, waiting for your response as the air conditioner hummed through the air.

“I…I do like you, y/n.”

“A lot.” He whispered quietly, his arms swinging in nervousness as he chewed on his lip, suffocated by the silence you answered with.

You stared at him.

Not just because he was standing there, but his words rang to your ears. It was what you wanted to hear. That confession, that maybe he cared for you for a reason. And he did. He did care for you for a reason.

“For a long time now, okay?”

“I—... I don’t even know when– I just–...”

He sighed. “I just… really like talking to you, I like how you understand my dumb jokes, and you even—...it’s dumb, but you flirt back when I do, okay? And that shit was hot… for me.”

He groaned, wiping his eyes with frustration in his movements, throwing his head back as he stammered; “I’m screwing this shit up– I’m..”

“y/n I’m just… sorry,” He said, finally looking at you. Hints of tears threatening to fall down his cheeks while he stared at you with desperation written all over his face.

“Please don’t… don’t leave,”

And you wanted to cry, and laugh, at the same time. Cry because you’ve never seen him like this, because did he really just lay his heart bare to you? Laugh because God he looks ridiculous right now. So desperate, so sad, if this was a less serious moment, maybe you’d pull out your phone and record him.

So you smiled, “I like you too,”

“H–..What..?” He croaked back, his voice unsteady as he looked up at you again.

“I like you, Hanta, I like you, back.”

He breathed out a laugh, finally smiling after what felt like his face was stretched down to the earth for the past few minutes, he grinned, running his hand through his hair. “You– what?”

Ahem. “Okay wait, pause—”

“C-can I–..?” A hand reached out to you hesitantly, sheepish and nervous, twitching slightly as if scared you’ll break if he touches you.

Slowly, you reached back, enveloping your hands into his, letting him slowly pull you into his embrace. Warm, quiet, and… smells like tangerines. A small giggle escaped his lips as he brought his hand up to your hair, carefully caressing it. “Shit, I’m so— happy right now,”

His heartbeat was fast, shinkansen speed-kinda-fast, you heard it as you slowly buried your face to his shoulder, your arms awkwardly wrapping around his waist, and you couldn’t help but smile widely, nuzzling yourself into him.

“I thought I messed this up, I swear— like, real bad, y’know?” He murmured into your hair, a hand gently resting over the line between your hip and waist. “I thought I lost you,”

With a swift motion, he took off his blazer, carefully resting it on your shoulders, as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“S’ yours now,”

“...What?”

“My blazer—...your blazer.”

You giggled, lightly pinching his shoulder. “Shut up,”

“Hey come on!” He chuckled, “I’ll even trademark it for ya,”

You grinned against his shoulder, arms wrapping just a bit tighter around him.

“C’mon, I know you looovee me that much, but I know you’re also hungry,” His hand nudged your arm with the plastic bag, “I brought my favorite mechanic’s favorites,” He hummed out.

“Steamed cake and banana milk.”

He grinned. “Just how you like it,”

And in the warm, quiet thrum of the workshop, under buzzing lights and the soft scent of sawdust and tangerines, it finally felt right.

Like home.

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

i gotta write other things other than this man i swear

#dworkism #divider by hyuneskkami #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #mha fluff #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero

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k1ng-ej · 4 months ago

Note

Alrighty 😼 Can I pretty please request Bo, and Michael (and whoever else you’d like), with a (preferably fem) s/o that loves Valentine’s Day and makes a big deal about it with them? For example, making a bunch of handmade gifts, baking for them, getting dressed in red and pink, just really big about the holiday?

Slashers with a S/O who really like Valentine’s day!

fem!reader

Featuring: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt

Notes: ok so some personal stuff has come up so requests/ posts might be delayed for a few days while i figure some things out. life will not stop me from writing about my favorite slashers though

Bo Sinclair

At first he doesn't care about Valentine's day and doesn't understand why you're so excited about it. He gets a little annoyed when it's all you talk about.

Eventually he learns to accept that it's just something you enjoy and starts going along with it. He will help you look for the perfect pink dress, which you sew hearts onto. He will make you do a little twirl for him and tell you that you're beautiful.

He loves your baked treats, compliments your baking skills and asks for more. He finds the little heart designs on the cupcakes cute.

He appreciates your gifts, more if they are handmade, he is bad at showing it though. He will put them on a shelf in his room. He forgets to get you a gift, but pulls you close for a kiss and tells you how much he loves you, and that's enough for you.

Vincent Sinclair

You have his interest piqued. As an artist himself, he will happily sit and watch you handmake your gifts, he would even help you if you asked him.

When you explain to him the significance of Valentine's day this prompts him to make you gifts too. You aren't allowed to see the gifts until day of, no peeking.

He helps you make themed jewelry, like heart earrings and necklaces. He makes you try them on, tilts his head at you, then takes them away to add a couple tweaks. It has to be perfect.

When you get all dressed up and show him, he is in awe. Your outfit is so cute, and the jewelry he made for you definitely brings it all together.

When you approach him with your baked treats he will stare at it for a minute, appreciating the detailed frosting designs you did before eating it. He deeply appreciates your artistic side.

The day of Valentines you present all of your gifts to him, and he will take his time opening each one. He keeps one to carry around with him and the rest will go on display somewhere.

The gifts he made for you are, of course, some wax sculptures. A simple heart one, and a mini one of the two of you kissing. He also makes you a card with a heartfelt message inside, and gives you a couple of sketches he did of you.

Michael Myers

Does not care about Valentine's day, shouldn't you be showing your partner love and appreciation every day? He doesn't get it.

He will tilt his head at you when he finds you in a themed sweater and heart headband. You try to make him wear a matching one but he glares at you and walks away. Eventually you win him over though and he looks so cute wearing it, way less intimidating. Imagine a cold murder like Michael with a cute heart headband on, oh my god.

He's a vacuum for food, eats all of your treats up within a couple nights. He doesn't really care about the effort you put into them, it's food, he just eats it.

The day of when you excitedly approach him with a couple of gifts, he stares. You try to make him open your gifts but he leaves. Youre hurt, but a few minutes later he returns with hand picked flowers in his hand, he can play along for a little bit.

Thomas Hewitt

This is his first time being able to take part in Valentine's day. You'll excitedly tell him that it's coming up, and that you want to do something for it, he will gladly do whatever you want to do.

He will stand in the doorway of the kitchen and watch in amazement as you bake heart shaped cookies. He will blush a little when you feed one to him then lick off a bit of frosting next to his mouth.

He takes time in finding the perfect gift for you, which is most likely jewelry taken from one of his victims.

You take him on a little picnic date in a small field, bringing all of your themed treats along for you two to snack on. He will hold you in his arms as you two gaze at the stars, but eventually he will make you sit up, close your eyes and hold your hand out.

He puts something cold in your palm, and when he indicates that's it's okay for you to look, you're blushing when you see a heart shaped locket in your hand. He gestures you to open it, and inside you'll find a little photo of the two of you together.

#x reader #fluff #michael myers x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher fluff #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #michael myers #thomas hewitt #mikeyreqs

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luveline · 2 years ago

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Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin.

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly.

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had.

"Steve," he corrects.

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?"

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more."

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress."

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?"

"It wasn't gross," you say softly.

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring."

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it."

"You're too mean to yourself," he says.

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble.

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches.

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again.

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches."

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency.

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?"

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake."

"Did someone say that to you?"

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week.

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists.

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does.

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?"

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock.

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask.

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?"

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met.

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile.

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional."

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife.

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages."

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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anakinstwinklebunny · 4 months ago

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Bunny!! I have a request if you don't mind :>

I was thinking maybe headcanons of Sam and Mermaid!Reader (kinda like H2o if you ever watched it). Like stuff of how they met, how he found out and started dating, whatever you feel like it

Just an idea. It's my first request but i'll try to interact more because i really liked your blog

Luv your writing pookie, can i be 🦢 anon?

SAM MONROE X MERMAID!READER HEADCANONS 🧜🏻‍♀️🌊

Author's note: welcome 🦢 Nonnie 🙂‍↕️ that is actually such a creative idea oh myyyyy but I haven't watched H20, only heard of it :(( I hope it's up to your liking :((

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who met you on one of his «get the hell away from everything» afternoons. He’d wander down to the rocky beach near his house, chain-smoking and throwing rocks into the water, just trying to avoid his dad and all the shitty stuff happening back home. You had been reckless, resting on a rock, just takin' in the sun..you liked this beach, it was quiet, people rarely came there. But fate had other plans today..When you heard a grumpy curse, your body stiffened and you immediately made your way back to the water. Yet, it was too slow for Sam not to see. He had spotted your tail diving under the water, his brows softening, expression going blank and he really thought he was going insane after pills he just took. "Hey! What the—" he run to the spot you were just by "Are you a freakin’ fish?" He yelled after you

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who came back to the place where he had seen you to make sure he's not going insane

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who actually one night sneaked out to see if you're there, and when you were, he hadn't stopped looking at you from behind. “So... you’re part fish? Do you eat people?” he'd blurt out, making you jump, before pointing at you like you were a science experiment.

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who cursed the life out of him when he saw you become a human again after stepping out of the water. That guy stumbled over his own steps, thinking you're about to..he doesn't even know what, he just let out a breathless, shaky "shit!" before running away as fast as he could

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who still came back to this place and this time didn't run away but the interaction between you two was.. awkward..a little but somehow you two got along with each other

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who was protective of your secret, often glaring at people who give you, weirdly, too much attention. «Mind your business, freak.»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who secretly loves watching you swim. He’ll sit on the beach with his arms crossed, pretending he’s not impressed, but you catch the way his lips twitch into a smile when you do something cool.

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who began bringing you little sea gifts—sea glass, weird shells, all while acting like it’s no big deal. «Found this dumb rock. Thought you’d like it.»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who teased you about your mermaid-ness. «Do you talk to dolphins or something?»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who sometimes asks you quiet, serious questions, frowning at you in the water. «What’s it like down there? Do you miss it?»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who draws you sometimes. Sketches of you on rocks or swimming. When you catch him, he simply plays it off. «It’s not you. Just some random fish person.»

🧜🏻‍♀️ SAM MONROE who spent hours smiling like a fool after the first time you kissed him underwater «Holy shit..that was..uh..wow»

🧜🏻‍♀️ SAM MONROE who, sometimes, let you take him into the water with you; jeans soaked up to his knees, just so he can kiss you properly while you float in the waves. «Don’t make me regret this. My shoes are already ruined.»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who teases you about being a mermaid all the time. "So, do you, like, talk to dolphins? Bet they’re better company than me, huh?" Yet when it he chills out, Sam’s completely enamored by your world. He’ll constantly ask quiet, curious questions late at night, when it’s just the two of you. "What’s it like down there? Do you miss it? Being in the water all the time? Is it worse than being out there?"

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who you catch sketching you sometimes--little doodles of you sitting on a rock or swimming in the waves. He would deny it, of course. "It’s not you. It’s just some random fish person."

🧜🏻‍♀️ SAM MONROE who struggled with feeling like he’s somehow not enough for you, in a way. He thinks you deserve someone more “magical” or less messed up. «You’re out here being, like, a mystical sea goddess or whatever, and I’m just...me.»

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who, whenever you’re upset, he’ll let you drag him into the water (even though he grumbles about it). "Fine, but if I drown, I’m haunting you."

🧜🏻‍♀️ SAM MONROE who gave you your first cigarette

🧜🏻‍♀️SAM MONROE who literally thought you were Ariel;

"So, uh," he started, scratching the back of his neck. He hesitated, the words seeming to stick in his throat before he finally blurted out, "Are you... some kind of Ariel or something?"

You blinked, tilting your head. "Who’s Ariel?"

Sam froze, lips parting like he was about to explain. But then, his brow furrowed, and he let out a long breath through his nose. "Eh… never mind," he muttered, taking a long drag of his cigarette

"No, wait," you pressed, frowning now. "Who is this Ariel? Another mermaid?"

"Not—well, kinda," Sam admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He glanced at you, cheeks faintly pink. "She’s from a movie. Some Disney thing."

"Disney?" you repeated, your confusion deepening.

"Forget it," he grumbled, tossing another pebble into the water with more force this time. "It’s stupid. You're, like, way cooler anyway. Ariel’s just a cartoon."

You didn’t fully understand what he meant, but the faint praise made your lips curl into a smile. "So, this Ariel isn’t real?"

"Nope," Sam said, leaning back on his palms. "You, on the other hand…" His voice trailed off, and he looked at you again, blue eyes tracing the curve of your tail in the clear, shining water. "You’re, like… real as it gets."

You grinned before flicking water at him with your tail. "Good. I’d hate to have competition."

Sam chuckled, wiping the water from his face. "Yeah, well, you’re safe. Ain’t nobody like you, Ariel or not."

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#sam monroe x you #bunny's replies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x reader #hayden christensen #christensen hayden #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x female reader

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bfwooin · 6 days ago

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Hiii! I hope you’re having a good day/night! Can I request a drabble or headcanons(whatever works best for you is fine really!) of Joker with a really shy reader who likes drawing and baking please? Or like Joker acting like guard dog of sorts? Just fluffy relationship stuff lol

show a little loving, shine a little light on me.

content. shy!reader, established relationship, fluuufff

a/n. my first request omg !!! i hope u like it anon 🫂

well aren't you a creative sweetheart? joker definitely doesn't think otherwise.

he loves these traits about you, how you’re able to express yourself through artworks and delicious treats despite being soft-spoken. whenever you’re with him — publicly and privately — he just needs to feel you in some way.

from hand-holding to throwing his arm over your shoulders to pull you closer, he wants you to always feel safe and secure… and to let others know that you’re his.

i feel like joker is a huge foodie, and he absolutely loves to indulge himself in your sweet treats that you bake, regardless of whether it was for him in the first place. he will always devour your goods. too sweet, too burnt, too dense weren’t in his vocabulary, you best believe every single crumb will be eaten.

whenever you’re in the kitchen baking something, be it trying out a new recipe you found on tiktok, or whipping up your classic baked goods for your friends or family, joker will admire you silently, standing by your side as you whisk the wet ingredients together. you still can’t get used to his blatant stare. even though you know it’s purely out of affection for you, his gaze is too daunting for you to concentrate.

this makes you slip up sometimes, maybe whisking the mixture too fast that some of it flung onto your face, a prominent dollop landing on your nose. well, he’s there for a reason, right? he’d notice your small mishap that he finds endearing. but instead of wiping your mess off with a kitchen towel, he leans in really close to you, and you almost mistake it for a kiss.

how embarrassing it is when he simply wipes the cream off your nose with his index finger, licking the remnants of it as well. “for quality control,” he claims, and you look the other way to hide your dusted cheeks. it’s just the heat from the close proximity that made your face flush, totally not because you thought he was going to kiss you or anything…

aside from stealing bites of your baked goods, he loves looking through your sketches you dare call horrible. your ears are used to it by now, but he will always praise your works.

he may not be able to articulate what he truly wants to say and result to saying something surface-level like: "don't say that, you're a good artist." but every single word he utters, no matter how flambouyant or simple his choice of words are, they're plucked straight from his heart, that's for sure.

he notices a recurring subject whenever you show him what you’re drawing; it’s his dog that he rescued during the pointing match! and he couldn’t be more envious of a damn puppy.

he sighs as you tilt your sketchbook towards his direction, revealing yet another rough sketch of the white puppy that was laying by your feet in the living room. he wishes it was him instead that filled the pages of your sketchbook. “you must like my dog really much, huh?” he asks with a hint of playfulness, his hand on your shoulder as he leans in closer to get a good look at your drawing.

“it’s cute,”

“what about me?”

“... huh?”

“nothing, just keep drawing.” joker gives your shoulder a squeeze before he stands up from the couch, walking away from you and disappearing into the kitchen, probably looking for the jar of your homemade cookies to snack on.

it wasn’t nothing to you. and you find yourself dropping your book and pencil on your lap, palming your face with your hands and feeling this familiar warmth that creeps onto your face once again.

your heart could really use some lessons to handle this tease of a man who goes by the name of joker.

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker #windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker joker #joker windbreaker #joker x reader #hajun x reader #sabbath crew #★angel'sworks

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zodiyack · 2 years ago

Text

Little Loner

Pairing(s): Jace Wayland x fem!reader

Warnings: clary being jealous but then cupid??, I wrote this while sleep deprived, fluff at the end, Clary x Simon if you squint.

Words: 1,743

Author's Note: I finally finished the requests. Now have some drafts while I work on sequels and stuff <3

Masterlist | The Mortal Instruments Masterlist

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @livlaughquinn, @bubsonnobx, @bunnyweasley23

Jace leads Clary to Hodge, but hesitates when he sees an open door. He finds himself pausing to admire the scene, leaning on the door frame with a crooked smile. Clary moves to get a better view and is confused.

A girl sits in a windowsill, her pencil hitting the paper lightly as she sketches out the scenery outside the window. The light appears to angle just right, giving her an almost angelic presence. Black runes cover her skin, some disappearing to hide under her clothes.

Clary leans over to Alec and whispers. "Who is that?"

Alec simply nods a little. "Y/N. Jace has a thing for her, but he's never acted on it." Clary feels her heart break a little. "Shame, really. She likes him too, but they're both too stubborn to be the one to confess."

"Oh..."

"My advice," Alec looks between her and the room, "stay away from Jace."

He moves on before she can ask much else, walking along the halls and calling to Jace quietly. Jace is brought back to reality as he gives one last look into the room before venturing on.

"So, Y/N..." Clary tries.

She doesn't miss when Jace blushes slightly, "another Shadowhunter. She's been here a long time, however she really only talks to me."

"Why's that?"

He chuckles a little but shakes his head. "That's none of my business to tell. She's a great person when you get to know her though." That's all the information he gives before they reach their destination. He opens the door and gestures inside with a nod.

His expression stays neutral, stoic as he explains, "You may find Hodge a little eccentric, but he's one of the greatest Shadowhunters that's ever lived." He looks down at the cloth in her hand and his brows furrow. "Here, give me that."

She walks inside of the giant room, her body and eyes exploring. The two boys walk in after her. They watch her carefully. Despite her distance, Clary can still hear Jace and Alec by the door.

"Don't lead this one on while you pursue your little loner. You'll get her hopes up, and if she decides to stay...the rune to fix a broken heart is the most painful one." She could practically feel Jace roll his eyes.

"I'm not leading her on."

"Oh? Is that so? Because I don't normally go around flirting and being handsy with random people, Jace." Alec warned. "It's obvious, the way Clary looks at you. I'd tone down your 'lack of leading her on' before she gets the wrong idea."

The doors shut suddenly, causing Clary to flinch, and Alec storms off down the hall, leaving Jace to think over his words. The more he thought about it, the more he tried to deny it.

Jace opens the door, "The Silent Brothers are ready for her."

When Clary and Jace set off for their next location, she noticed a new companion had replaced Alec. It was the girl from before. The girl that Jace liked.

"I didn't expect you to be joining us..." She tries to make conversation, but Y/N barely acknowledges her.

"I admire your attempt, but she won't talk. Not unless she's comfortable with you." Jace smiles at the girl in question, who smiles to herself but stays quiet.

"How long would that take?"

"Patience is a virtue, Clary." Jokes Jace. "I suppose I was the first person who ever really tried, so there's not much to go off of. She's coming with us because I asked her too."

The redheaded girl can't help but glance between the two every now and then. She isn't sure whether she feels jealous or wants them to be together, but she can say one thing for sure; The tension was nauseatingly strong.

"Why didn't Hodge come with us?"

"He hasn't left the institute in years." Jace shrugs as he continues walking. "Some say it's a spell."

"He's agoraphobic." Y/N giggles at Clary's bluntness, leading to the ginger giving her a small smile. One she returned. They stop and turn, Jace crossing his arms while he waits.

"Is that him?" Clary asks.

Jace follows her gaze and shakes his head. "No, that's Harold, the groundskeeper." He tilts his head, leaning in a bit, "that's him."

She looks up a little and feels a small shiver of unease crawl up her spine. A comforting hand is felt on her shoulder, and she's met with Y/N's smile when she turns her head. The action leaves her wondering how obvious her discomfort was, but she still is thankful.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Clary looks to the two as though asking for help, but nods regardless. "We will help you to remember."

The trio follow the tall robed man, Clary a little more hesitant. Y/N turns, kind smile still standing, and lifts a finger to the middle of her lips. Clary nods and follows behind.

Along the way she trips, "Ow!"

Jace turns his head instantly, shushing her. "You'll wake the dead."

Clary rolls her eyes. She catches Y/N giving her an apologetic shrug, the girl nodding with her head to continue.

"I can't believe this place is just outside of the city..."

She follows the duo to the window like ledge they looked through. Jace's voice catches her off guard, "Welcome to the City of Bones." His breath is right next to her ear, sending her hairs to stand on their ends.

"This is where the Silent Brothers draw their power, from the bones and ashes of Shadowhunters."

"All of them are buried here?"

"Yes." Jace looks to the wall, "One day," he taps a skull, making Y/N giggle, the sound eliciting a smile to slide upon his pink lips, "that's gonna be me."

Clary stops to look at the skeleton. Sensing her unease, Y/N urges her forward with a light touch. Clary stops a few steps forward, inspecting the room from entryway.

"This is as far as we go." She looks at Jace, and he assures her, "You'll be fine."

"So you've done this before?"

Y/N and Jace exchange a glance. She dawns an apologetic look as shakes her head and Jace replies, "No."

Clary decides to continue to try and talk to Y/N, "Have you ever met Magnus Bane?"

The girl only shakes her head.

"You know... I'm quite jealous of you." Clary admits with a laugh. Y/N tilts her head in confusion, prompting Clary to continue. "I thought Jace was into me, and if I'm being honest, I'm really into him but... I'd be stupid to stand in your guys' way."

Her brows furrow, even more confused than before. Clary's hopes range from high to doubtful, there's a chance Alec was wrong, that she didn't have feelings for him, but she saw the way the two looked at each other. She might've been naïve and clouded in her conflicting feelings, but she wasn't blind.

"Jace likes you too. And honestly...you should go for it." She looks away, ashamed of her own assistance in helping the guy she liked be with someone else. However, she doesn't have time to mope, when a voice she hasn't heard before causes her to snap her eyes back to Y/N's face.

"Is it that obvious?" A shy expression, laced with a little embarrassment, greets her.

"You-"

"I talk, yes." She chuckles. "Jace wasn't lying. I mostly talk to him, but after I realized my feelings for him, I started to confide in Alec. My only problem was that I didn't realize Alec also had feelings for Jace... But, Alec saw how much I love Jace, and told me that he had found interest in someone else. Whether that's true or not, I don't know, but, my feelings for Jace have always been around since then. I'm just...not too sure what to do about it."

Clary nods understandingly, and places her hand atop Y/N's. "Talk to him."

Y/N thinks about it for moment, and then nods. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can we talk?" Jace turns, nodding when he realizes it's Y/N. The blond looks around the infirmary, making sure Simon and Clary are accounted for one more time before he returns to facing her. He follows her to the study, sitting beside her on the piano seat.

"What's wrong?"

Her fingers press into the keys, a slow recollection of a piece by Bach. "It's nothing... I spoke to Clary-'

"You talked to Clary?" Y/N giggles at his dumbfounded expression. "M'sorry, that just caught me a little off-guard, you don't normally talk to anyone else."

"That's fair. Basically, she gave me some advice to a problem I have, not that I asked her for it- she actually noticed it- anyways, after Simon and the vampires and everything- I guess- my point is, Jace..."

"Yes?" His eyes were laced with concern, no longer amused by her sudden socializing.

"I like you. Like, really really like like you." She bit her lip. "Like...I'm in love with you."

Y/N stared at Jace, waiting for his answer. She grew nervous as time started to feel slower. The seconds felt like they were snail's paced, so close yet so far away. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her heartbeat rang in her ears. It was all so overwhelming until-

"I'm in love with you too."

"You what?"

Jace smiled shyly. "I'm in love with you too. I've been for a long time now." His eyes trace over her lips, the distance between them closing gradually. He hovers above her lips when his eyes meet hers again.

It's all in slow motion and superspeed at the same time. She lets go of control and lets her instincts take the reigns. Her lips crash into his and he lets out a surprised groan. Their eyes both close as they kiss one another, their lips partaking in a dance they somehow know. By the time they pull apart, they're out of breath and their eyes are blown.

"How long?"

She blinks. "Pardon?"

"How long have you been waiting to do that?"

"If I'm being honest, a month or so after we met. What about you?" Y/N giggles.

"Since we first met."

Clary leans against the door, heart half broken and half full, yet content with herself. Maybe she should look into what Simon's benefits are.

#x reader #jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #jace wayland #jace herondale #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #reader insert #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #city of bones #zodiyack #imagine #i need him

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drunkenlionwrites · 1 month ago

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Hiii omg I saw your Vash requests open!! If you feel up to it, could you do a Vash x Reader where maybe reader is an artist? And they get caught drawing Vash and he’s super flustered and stuff, if that isn’t too much like an oc for you!! <3

Hi anon. It's not too much of an OC and I enjoyed writing it a lot Also, it was a huge fail cause I read your request incorrectly and thought about reader getting super flustered instead. Soooo umm... we get a lot of angsty pining from reader and happy oblivious Vash instead, I'm sorry 😅 Also, it's a first ficlet I written in a few years 😓 Warnings: none except heavy pining Word count: 756 Drawn to you (Vash x reader)

The fire snapped gently in its pit, casting a warm, flickering halo around your little camp. The desert wind whispered low, soft enough not to disturb the fragile stillness that had settled over you both.

Vash sat across from you, long legs stretched out, his chin dipped into a collar of his red coat. His head leaned slightly to one side, golden hair tousled by the breeze, face caught half in shadow. He wasn’t quite asleep. But he wasn’t here, either. His gaze was turned toward the horizon, somewhere far, far away.

You held your breath and reached for your bag.

Your pencil barely whispered as it moved across the paper. His face was taking shape beneath your hand again—second time this week, fifth time this month, god knows how many times in your head. You told yourself it was for practice. That you were just studying expressions, light, anatomy. Though, it was just a silly excuse for the way your heart twisted every time his smile faltered, or his eyes lost focus, or he made himself look smaller and smiled with that practiced easy smile to some random townsfolk.

You told yourself it was just idle sketching—shapes, shadows, the way the light caught the line of his jaw. But then your hand kept moving. His jawline. The slight slope of his nose. That mop of blonde hair, neighboring with black as it went closer to his neck.

You were halfway through the shape of his mouth—so familiar now, full of unspoken things—when you felt his eyes moved swiftly from somewhere distant straight to you.

Your pencil stopped, just as your breath did. Vash was turned halfway toward you now, one brow lifted, a smile creeping in a feline manner at the corner of his lips. The firelight danced in his eyes.

“What’cha working on?” he asked, voice bright and curious.

Panic bloomed in your chest. “Oh—nothing! Just doodling.” You tried to angle the sketchbook away from him, but you weren’t fast enough.

He was already there—scooting closer on quiet feet, kneeling beside you in the sand before you could blink. Your throat felt absolutely dry as you tried to speak out before he drew his conclusions first.

“I mean,” you said, doing your best to sound nonchalant, “I just like sketching stuff. People. You were sitting still… It was convenient…” Words felt like child-like gibberish as soon as you let them out. Fuck. You shouldn’t have drawn him.

You knew better. You always knew better.

It wasn’t just the way you drew his face, undoubtedly with the highest attention to the details, the way you accentuated the glimmer in his eyes, even though all you had was a pencil and a thick piece of eraser that felt clumsy and too big in your hands. It was what he meant to you—what he had started to become. And putting that on paper, even with shaky hands and unfinished lines… it felt like a confession.

And now he was looking at it. “Wow! You really don’t give yourself enough credit! You made me look so peaceful,” he said, oblivious and excited. “Did I really just sit with such a funny look on my face long enough for you to draw me?”

You nodded, heat creeping up your neck. “You did. You look like that when you don’t think anyone’s watching.”

Vash chuckled, looking at the drawing again, then at you. “Can I…have it?” he asked, almost shy. “Or… maybe you could draw me again sometime?”

Relaxed by his overall attitude, you finally managed to take your breathing under control as you nodded. “You can have it.”

Because it was easier to give him a sketch than your heart.

His hand brushed yours as he took the paper. For a second you felt the warmth of his skin, and it lit a fire in your chest that hurt to hold back. He grinned at you, childlike and wide-eyed, like he didn’t know what he was doing to you.

Maybe he didn’t.

And maybe that was safer.

Because if he did know—if he saw how you looked at him when he wasn’t looking, if he read every line of your sketch like a line from love letter you were too afraid to write—what would he do?

Would he smile?

Would he pull away?

Or… would he kiss you?

You didn’t ask. You didn’t dare.

You just watched him tuck the sketch into his coat like it mattered.

And you stayed quiet.

#vash x reader #trigun x reader #vash x you #trigun x you #lion replies #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #lion writes #no beta we die like rem

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dangoren · 2 years ago

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⚠️ WARNING: LONG POST (no complete works)

Yo look at what I found sitting on my computer. Drew this half a year ago and never bothered to finish.

Hi guys, I don’t usually write a lot (nor post that frequently), but I just wanted to let you guys know I’m constantly drawing even when I don’t post a lot.

For every finished drawing, there’s at least 3 unfinished/abandoned ones, or stuff I just didn’t post.

(There are many more, but I’m too embarrassed to show them)

I’ve been experiencing burnout and I wanted to give my unfinished projects a chance to see the light of day.

If this post gets enough notes or enough feedback, I will give some of these projects another go, so please tell me which ones you like.

Or if you don’t like any of them, if you have any ideas in mind you want to see, please make a request. I would love to try them out.

I want to thank the people that have stuck with me for these past 50+ posts over the span of 4 years 😅. I also want to thank the people that left likes and comments. Your feedback and support is much appreciated and motivates me to push forward.

I hope my drawings can put a smile on your face, and I hope you have an awesome day.

Myself: Hey! You haven’t posted any new clone wars stuff lately, only yugioh crap. And now the only clone wars related thing you post are half baked ideas and loose sketches??? You have no shame. And this post is hideous.

Me:

I’m working on it!

#commander cody #cc 2224 #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #unfinished

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redr0sewrites · 1 year ago

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ATSV Characters with a Goth S/o

heeeeeyyyyyy guys 😇 *slowly sliding the 100+ REQUESTS in my inbox to the side to make room for a new special interest*

🥀Cw: none, mostly fluff!!!

🥀Pairing(s): Hobie x reader, Miles x reader, Miguel x reader, Spot x reader

Hobie

he would LOVE any type of alternative partner tbh- he just LOOOVESSS that ur goth and will support you 100%

people who go against societies expectations/standards and don't fit in with the norm intrigue him, and your style is probably what piqued his interest in the first place

y'all definitely wear matching fits sorry i don't make the rules- hobie just can't pass up the opportunity to match w you!!! whenever you go to meetings within the spider society he always brings you along, regardless of whether or not you're a spiderperson and hobie loves showing off you and your style

MAJOR "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" VIBES

look me in the eyes and tell me hobia would not absolutely rock some funky eyeliner LIKEEEEE- he def lets you practice on him and will do your makeup for you too!!!

hobie loves thrifting with you, there is no way he isn't a major thrifter and you both definitely DIY a lot of your clothes

HE MAKES YOU GUYS MATCHING PUNK BATTLE VESTS FOR YOUR ANNIVERSARY, AND MAKES SURE THAT IT MATCHES UR AESTHETIC AS WELL!!

hobie absolutely has BLESSED music taste, but while he usually listens to rock, punk, dad rock, or post-punk type of music, i def see him enjoying more gothic/new wave music- especially if u introduce it to him!!!

i see him enjoying bauhaus, sisters or mercy, scary bitches, etc- he'll also give YOU a lot of music recommendations and help to expand ur taste!

hobie would also accompany you to any protests or conventions that you wanted to attend, and would act as your scary dog privileges

YOU TWO DEFINITELY GO TO CONCERTS TOGETHER OMG. I TOTALLY SEE THAT AS A SPONTANEOUS DATE THAT YOU TWO ENJOY A LOT

honestly hobie is a lovely partner to have if you are goth, and he's not only supportive but VERY enthusiastic about your fashion and lifestyle!

Miles

hes such a sweetheart!!! he definitely supports you if you're goth and asks a LOOOT of questions lmao

miles draws you and your fashion a lot, and will def design makeup or eyeliner ideas for you too!!! while ik this is more associated with punk, i also see miles drawing you a few custom patches and stuff like that

your kind of like his muse in a way, and miles just really enjoys sketching you, especially since you have such a unique aesthetic and such cool outfits

HE HAS DEFINITELY GRAFFITIED U SOMEWHERE‼️

he loves watching you get ready and do your makeup. seeing you do perfect eyeliner wings and heavy makeup in general lowkey relaxes him, and he just loves admiring you

im sorry but miles knows absolutely nothing about goth music or culture, ur gonna have to introduce him to a lot of the songs/bands!!!

while i don't think he's huge on the music at first, i think it would grow on him over time. its definitely the type of thing that he loves because YOU love it, and he sees how mu much you enjoy it so he starts listening to it as well so he can talk to you about it

i think his favorite band would be the cure, and his fav songs would either be boys dont cry or the walk (both by the cure- idk why thats so specific but they just kinda fit his vibe yk?)

miles likes holding hands a lot, and he loves when you wear rings or gloves or something along those lines because it just reminds him so much of you! your hands just feel different compared to other peoples and he just loves how unique you are

if you have a lot of piercings, miles would definitely ask about them or buy you specific jewelry for piercings!!!!

overall, very very cute and supportive about your style!!! (he lowkey gives bi wife energy, and iyk what in talking ab then ily mwah)

Miguel

he's pretty indifferent to your style at first, i don't see him as the type to judge much based on appearances. its your personality that really throws him for a loop, and a part of him admires your dedication to making yourself look how you want to look and truly living to be your best self, regardless of what others think

if you think miles knows nothing about being goth then be prepared for miguel bc he knows NOTHINGGGG- no music, no history, no political views, zero, zilch, nada, goose egg

if he cares about you i do see him being intrigued about your style, and once you two are officially dating is when he'll show more interest in your personal fashion sense

he strikes me as the type to like, NEVER listen to music, so he literally only listens to the music you like!!! he does find himself occasionally humming the tune of some strawberry switchblade song or casually listening to a siouxsie and the banshees song while he works, and over time you influence him a LOT with your music taste. he definitely associates any and all goth music with YOU, and that's probably why he starts enjoying it.

he's a "hand on you at all times" type of guy, and while he is rarely touchy with others, miguel is definitely keeping you close. your fashion makes that convenient for him, and he loves pulling you into a kiss by grabbing onto your belt loop or something of the sort

miguel loves how you look with and without makeup on and isn't afraid to tell you that, however, he really likes it if you incorporate his colors or color scheme into your makeup one day. he'll never admit it, but you keep catching him admiring you with the smallest smirk on his face every few seconds

if anyone ever gave u shit for what you wear and how you dress, especially someone in the spider society, you'd practically have to restrain miguel from drop kicking them across nueva york- he doesn't want anyone to be rude to you , and while he knows you can stand up for yourself, he just gets protective at times

Spot

goth? whats that???

he's lowkey such a nerd, and spends too much time being science-y and planning on how to beat spiderman to actually get caught up on fashion

spot doesn't know how he pulled you tbh, but he appreciates you nonetheless!!! he thinks you and your aesthetic are something to be admired, and will unabashedly tell EVERYONE he knows about you

he will shoplift any clothing or jewelry that you want, and he'll even take you to other dimensions where there are better alternative clothes as well

spot doesn't really have a face to do makeup on, but he'll offer to do yours for you! surprisingly enough he's pretty good at it, though he does work pretty slowly

spot loves fiddling with your accessories, whenever he's standing near you he's always reaching out to touch you in some way shape or form. he loves playing with any chains or necklaces you wear, and will help adjust them so that they lay correctly

he helps you get ready in the morning!!!!! if ur the type of goth to wear corsets, he makes lacing them up SO easy and will gladly do it for you

i personally hc that spot HATES seeing himself in mirrors/pictures, it reminds him sm of what he used to look like, but he LOVES taking photos of you and your style!! whenever you are wearing a cute outfit or have funky makeup on, spot adores just taking photos of you

if you ever did a makeup look inspired by him and his spots he would probably CRY :(

URGRHHRHHRRR I LOVE ATSV SMMMMMMM!!!! this post will DEFINITELY have a pt2 w more characters!!!!! i swear tho atsv literally pulled me out of the most horrendous burnout ever i FELT the artblock and writing block lift off of my body as i watched it. IM SO INVESTED I MADE A SPIDERSONA...

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