Tumgik
#there is NOTHING I love more than everyone gushing about how great they are together
katherines-imagines · 6 months
Text
Still Into You
pairings: hazel callahan x reader
warnings: obliviousness, literally so oblivious that its frustrating, bad writing
key: *** - time skip, faux - fake
summary: The Fight Club has been trying to get Hazel and Y/N forever, so when Y/N has a concert with her band, the Fight Club tries to bring the two together..
Tumblr media
For as long as the fight club could remember, Hazel and Y/N had been hopelessly in love with each other, but the two were clearly, completely oblivious. Really, it stressed everyone out. No matter what they tried, the two idiots could not get together. They had tried everything. They planted fake love letters, they set up real love letters, they arranged blind dates with each other, they even tried locking them in a room (subtly of course), but nothing seemed to work.
“Nothing is working,” PJ complained to the group. They were having a secret meeting without Hazel and Y/N. “This has gone on for far too long,” PJ said, the group nodding in agreement. “I mean, at least Y/N tries. Hazel’s the problem.”
“No, remember when Hazel got Y/N coffee,” Brittany pointed out.
“She got all of us coffee.”
“Oh,” Brittany said dejectedly.
“Yeah, she was only going to get it for Y/N, but she chickened out last minute,” Josie recalled. The group collectively face palmed. “Ok guys, we have to come up with something.” As the group sat in silence trying to come up with a new plan, a loud gasp came from Stella-Rebecca.
“Oh my gosh I totally forgot, Y/N has a band concert and she invited all of us!” The girls started chattering excited as Stella-Rebecca started passing out the tickets before Annie clapped her hands.
“That’s it,” she exclaimed. The group turned to her in confusion. “This is how we get them together! We get Y/N to sing a song to confess her feelings, and we help Hazel know that she’s singing it for her. It’s perfect!” Unconsciously, the group mentally simultaneously agreed that Annie was the smartest of the group.
“Great idea,” Isabel gushed. “So how are we gonna do this?” The girls huddled around Annie, ready to here the game plan.
“Ok, so here’s what we’re gonna do..”
***
“Hey are you good over there,” the lead singer asked. Y/N nodded, nervously tapping her guitar. The fight club had told her to sing a love song, and look directly at Hazel to confess. In all honesty, Y/N would do anything just for Hazel to finally realize her feelings. This was the last resort, so she would give it her all.
“Ready guys? We’re on in five,” the drummer notified the group. Nodding, they got in position. Taking a deep breath, Y/N reassured herself that she could do it.
While Y/N was getting ready, the fight club found their seats, putting Hazel directly where Y/N would be able to view her easily and vice versa.
“So Hazel, you ready to see your girlfriend,” Sylvie teased. Blushing, Hazel shook her head in denial.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Hazel said with a faux scowl. I wish, Hazel thought to herself.
“With how she talks about you, I’m honestly surprised,” Annie enticed. Annie was sure that if Hazel had puppy ears, they would be perked right now. Hook, line, and sinker.
“How does she talk about me,” Hazel asked curiously, trying to play it off smoothly. The group subtly gave each other knowing glances before Annie answered the oblivious girl.
“She always says, ‘Hazel’s so pretty’, ‘Hazel’s so organized’, ‘she’s so cool when she fights’. Seems like she really likes you.” Blushing, Hazel looked off into the distance. Maybe Y/N did like her as more than a friend? No, of course not, she think’s of Hazel as ‘just a friend’. a/n: fucking adrien agreste vibes
“I think Y/N told me that she would be singing the last song specifically for you, Hazel,” Isabel said slyly. Head snapping towards Isabel, she bombarded the poor girl with questions.
“Really? For me? You’re not joking?” Isabel blinked before answering.
“Yes, yes, and no,” Isabel smiled. A huge smile settled on Hazel’s face before the light’s dimmed. The group focused their attention to the stage, where their friend stood on stage. As the audience applauded loudly at the band’s entrance, Hazel clapped the loudest.
The band made their way through the songs, until finally they were at the last one.
“Before we finish up with our last song,” Y/N said with a bright smile. “I wanna dedicate this last one to someone I’ve been trying to tell them, but they’re just a little bit oblivious.” With a nervous smile, Y/N stared directly at Hazel, and motioned for the band to start. The main singer took a step back for Y/N to sing. They started playing and Hazel could recognize the song, ‘Still Into You’, by Paramore. Oh my god, Hazel thought. This was their song. The song playing when they met. The song playing when both girls fell for each other. Theirs. As Y/N sang, her gaze never left Hazel’s.
“Even after all this time,” Y/N sang, looking at Hazel. “I’m into you. Baby, not a day goes by, that I’m not into you!” As they finished the song, a huge applause came out, Hazel’s mouth dropped. ‘I love you Haze’, Y/N mouthed. Hazel could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and she finally mouthed the words back.
‘I love you too’.
A/N: @deadgirlwalkingtaylorsversion wrote a post asking about the reader confessing unconsciously during a concert, but I tried putting my own little twist to it (hope that’s ok). I’m taking requests if y’all have any! Hope you all liked it!
292 notes · View notes
Text
Summer Sun, Something's Begun
Part of my Birthday Bash!
Request: "You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much." with Roy :)
Roy Kent x Reader
2.1k words
Warnings: Language, Chelsea!Roy, lots of fluff and flirting
Author's Note: This takes place during Roy's time in Chelsea, so he's in his mid-20s. The reader is his manger's very off-limits daughter, early 20s. I loved writing this so much, I'm going to add more to it later- so keep an eye out! 👀
Tumblr media
Summers were for Chelsea.
For as long as you could remember, as soon as the school year ended, your mind focused on nothing but football. Throughout your childhood, you’d join your father at the facilities, watching the team prepare for the new season. Everything about it felt magical: the green of the pitch, the bright blue skies above, the shouts and excitement from the team. You looked forward to the first day of term, when everyone spoke about their summer holidays, the places they’d visited and the friends they got together with, when you would gush about the players you watched train and the matches you attended.
Now, you packed your bags at the end of each term and came home from uni, still feeling that same flutter of joy as you thought about training. A young adult yourself now, your dad still let you loiter around the team. Pretty much since you were old enough to drive, he treated you more like an assistant, asking you to grab lunches or help answer emails. As far as summer jobs went, this one felt like a great deal to you; hang out with your dad and the squad all day and get paid in match tickets whenever you and your mates wanted.
Of course, your role at the club wasn’t the only thing that changed. As a child, the players doted on you, asking about your dog or kicking around the ball with you before hitting the showers. You were Chelsea’s little princess, running around in jean shorts and too-big t-shirts. But now? Now you were the same age as many of the players, a young woman. Sure, the older players who’d known you for years, the ones who had watched you grow up, still joked around with you and treated you like family. But the younger players, the ones who were closer to your age than your father’s, definitely saw you differently. You caught the lingering stares, the cocky grins shot in your direction when they did something impressive on the pitch, the nudges when you strolled by the weight room when you brought the coaches their lunches.
Not that a single one of them would ever do anything about it. They were young, but they weren’t stupid. You were the manager’s daughter; you were the very definition of off-limits.
Which was totally fine with you, by the way. You didn’t care much for the attention of the young footballers, no matter how fit or wealthy they were. Not when you only had eyes for one midfielder in particular.
Roy Kent. Roy freaking Kent. With those brown eyes and those little smirks and that growling voice, not to mention that gorgeous chest hair you thought about way to often to be healthy, you were positively, absolutely smitten. He was brilliant to watch on the pitch, and he was pretty clever and funny when he cared to be. While his reputation centered around his scowls and brooding air, you often found yourself falling into step with him in the halls, offering teasing remarks back and forth and eliciting light chuckles from the mouth you thought about all year long back at school.
Ever since you started university, your dad had joked about not dating footballers. And normally, you were a good kid and listened to your parents. But the sound of Roy Kent’s laughter and the sight of his bare chest in the changing room always had you wanting to ignore your dad’s advice.
Because ever since he arrived at Chelsea, summers were for Roy Kent.
This summer was no different.
After a full week of Roy catching you staring at him on the pitch and making jokes that you laughed a smidge too hard at, you discovered him on the pitch long after practice had ended for the day and most players had begun to go home. Well, maybe ‘discovered’ was the wrong word. That made it sound like a coincidence, like you hadn’t quietly slipped away from your father’s office and followed the midfielder out of the building. Like you hadn’t perched yourself in the stands, not in an obvious spot, but definitely not hiding either as you watched him absently dribble around the grass while the sun began to set. Like you hadn’t been doing this for three days in a row now.
After maybe five minutes of watching him, he finally turned his head in your direction. “Oi!” he called out. “You just going to sit there and watch?” Even from a distance you could see the smile on his face, the one he usually saved for you.
You shrugged and stood, smoothing down the dress you may or may not have chosen while thinking about what Roy would think of it. It took every ounce of self-control not to skip down the stands, across the grass, and fling yourself into his arms, the way you wished you could after Chelsea victories. Instead, you strolled casually towards him, hands innocently behind your back, until you were gazing up at those pretty brown eyes, the ones that always seemed to sparkle when he looked at you.
“Enjoy the show?” Roy razzed, quirking one of those thick eyebrows at you.
“I always enjoy watching football,” you countered. You bent down to pick up the ball and began rolling it between your hands. “Especially when I get to watch talented people play.”
Behind the teasing look on his face, you could see in his eyes that he was pleased by your indirect compliment. “You think I’m talented then?” he hummed, doing his best to maintain his indifferent manner.
You wrinkled your nose at him and tossed the ball at his chest, which he caught with a soft grunt. “Who said I was talking about you, Kent? I was just stating the fact that I like watching football.”
His face lit up at your banter, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You never saw him make that face at work except when you joked around with each other; you wondered if he ever made that face away from the pitch, if he ever made that face at anyone else, at any other girls. “Fuck me then,” Roy laughed, holding the ball close to his chest. He dropped it to the ground with a thud and nudged it towards you with his foot. “Come on, then. Let me prove myself.”
“Me, who hasn’t played football since I was eight, versus you, a Premier League star.” You rolled your eyes and bumped the ball back to him. “Yeah, sounds real fair to me, Kent.”
This time, the surprise he wore was genuine. “You haven’t played since you were eight?” He shook his head at you. “Your dad coaches fucking Chelsea. How the fuck did you manage to not play?”
“I prefer spectating and being a fan,” you stated simply. You wrinkled your nose. “Plus, I wasn’t very good,” you admitted. “I think Dad found it all a little embarrassing. He didn’t make much of a fuss when I quit.”
Roy shook his head and took a step back, dragging the ball with him. “Well, your dad’s not here now,” he pointed out, something close to flirtation in his voice. “And I’ll try to go easy on you, princess.”
Your heart fluttered at the teasing nickname. A few of the players called you that, always playful and joking, but when Roy said it, it made you wonder how other pet names would sound coming out of that beautiful mouth of his. “Fine,” you conceded with a huff, as though you weren’t thrilled at the opportunity to be close to Roy. “But go easy on me.”
Playing football in flats and a dress was not the easiest thing in the world, you discovered. Especially not when your opponent was Chelsea’s skilled and beautiful superstar. Still, you had to admit to yourself that it was fun. It was obvious that Roy did his best to go easy on you, but it wasn’t natural for the midfielder to give anything less than one hundred percent, so even his “easy” was a challenge. But he chuckled as you ran around each other, and a couple times he even laid a hand on your waist; you wondered if he knew the effect it had on you because each time he did, you froze and he was able to steal the ball with ease.
Eventually, you managed to break away from him with the ball at your feet and happiness in your lungs. You really thought you had a chance at scoring a goal when that firm hand landed on your hips. As you tried to wriggle free, your feet tangled with his, and the two of you fell to the ground, a jumble of laughter and bodies and a football. You managed to roll onto your back, grinning at Roy as he sat up and gazed down at you.
“You do suck,” he announced with a smirk. “Better study hard at uni, princess, because even with your daddy in charge, you are never getting signed to Chelsea.”
“I think I’ll live,” you huffed back as he laid beside you. You felt keenly aware of his body next to yours, of his breathing, of how close his hand was to your own. You wondered if he could feel your heart pounding through the ground; part of you worried it would cause the earth to quake, it was beating so hard.
Roy’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Glad to be home for the summer?” he hummed, his casual tone a sharp contrast to your nerves.
You cleared your throat. “I am. It’s always nice to be back with my family. And not worry about schoolwork. Plus, I love being here.” You gestured broadly around the pitch.
“Hmm.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Roy squinting at the oranging sky. “Any big summer plans?” His voice was heavy with interest, something rare for Roy Kent. He always seemed so aloof.
“Working here,” you said with a huff. “Same as every summer.” After a moment, you realized he was waiting for you to continue talking. “What about you? Training, training, and more training?” you teased.
He sighed, a low growling sound that had the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. “’ve got a fucking photoshoot tomorrow,” he grumbled. “For fucking Nike. Some international ad campaign or some shit, I don’t fucking know.”
You were instantly reminded that Roy Kent was a professional footballer, a celebrity, a legend in the making, who already had a track record for bedding models and actresses. He was on magazine covers and advertisements. And you were… you. He wasn’t like the boys in your uni classes or the fellas in your neighborhood, earnest young men who nervously asked girls out at pubs and prayed for a ‘yes’. He was a star.
In an attempt to ease your sudden angst, you let out a light chuckle. “Nike photoshoot, huh? Wow, Kent. You’re so cool.” You turned your face towards him and stuck your tongue out playfully. “It makes me hate you so much.”
Roy shifted his head so he was looking at you. “Me? Cool?” He rolled his eyes. “I never feel fucking cool. Especially not around you.” He gazed back up at the sky. “Always feel like a clumsy little kid around you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest. His voice was so sincere, not an ounce of the joking and teasing usually aimed at in your direction. And you swore his cheeks were tinted pink- and you didn’t think it was from all the running around. Although your mind was racing to a million different places at once, the only thing you could manage to murmur was, “Well, I think you’re pretty fucking cool, Kent.”
He faced you again, squinting at the setting sun that was hitting him just right. “Thanks.” After a moment, you felt his finger brush tentatively against your knuckles. “D’you think I could call you sometime? While you’re home for the summer?” He shrugged, clearly trying to appear more casual than he felt. “We could… hang out or something.”
If you thought your heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to now. You searched his eyes, looking for some sign that he was goofing around, just fucking with you, but all you could find was sunshine and anticipation. Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you nodded, turning your palm upwards so Roy could rest his hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Yeah, Kent,” you finally whispered as a smile crept across your face. “You could call me sometime.”
83 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year
Text
Distance.
Summary; With the realisation that Eddie won't return her feelings, yn decides to move on. It doesn't matter how attached she has grown to him he will never feel the same.
Protecting her heart is what she needs to do, will Eddie finally realise how much he feels about her?
Warnings; Angst, manipulations
Likes or comments are always welcome and appreciated ❤ I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.
For a few months now since growing close to Eddie and joining Hellfire Club, yn had begun to fall for the handsome metalhead.
He was kind, sweet and nothing like the rumours around the school made him out to be ( mostly told by that asshole Jason )
The crushing realisation that he didn't feel the same came when he began to crush on Chrissy and they struck up a friendship.
Chrissy was a sweetheart and lovely to Eddie but that crush fizzled out quick and now Eddie had turned his attention to a girl called Dianne.
They had been dating for a few weeks and every time yn saw them together her heart would break and she felt that sting of unrequited love.
Because to Eddie, she was his pal, one of the guys and not someone he would find appealing.
Dianne was pretty, smart and in a band which Eddie frequently gushed about.
Dianne also didn't like her very much and spent most of the time glaring at her or giving her snide looks while draped around Eddie or while she kissed him.
It was obvious Dianne knew how she felt and was making it clear that Eddie would never be interested and to get over him.
Then she put it into blunt words one day while Eddie was setting up for Hellfire and Dianne sidled up beside her before she could head in and the way she looked sent yn's heart racing.
It was a mix of anger and pity.
"Sweetie, this little crush on Eddie? You know everyone in Hellfire knows right? It's kinda pathetic crushing on him when he's with me. Don't ya think?"
Dianne says it so sweetly but with steel in her tone.
It's then that yn begins to look at how she has been acting over the last month. It wasn't cool to visibly crush so hard on someone that was taken and she knew it.
Shit did Eddie know and he was too embarrassed or just to kind to let her down gently?
Dianne sniffs and a few tears leak out and she feels mortified.
"Why can't you get it in your head that Eddie isn't interested? It's so sad for you sweetie, why do you want to be second best, don't you want to protect yourself from such embarrassment? Distance yourself?"
Second best. The word sticks in her mind. That's all she ever would be in this situation and she knows all she will end up is heartbroken.
Every day Dianne will rub it in her face more and more and The Hellfire boys would think she was pathetic.
She didn't want to be embarrassed and heartbroken, she had to protect her heart.
"Dianne you joining us tonight babe? Sweetheart?" Dianne brightens as Eddie approaches them, tears gone and she giggles.
"Of course, Eddie poo" feeling sick at what Dianne has said she turns to Eddie.
"I have to go, uh. Robin needs me and Nancy" she makes an excuse up quickly and misses the way Eddie's face falls as she rushes out.
She also misses the triumphant smirk on Dianne's face.
Distancing herself was harder than she ever thought possible. She had created a routine with Hellfire, it made her feel wanted and accepted.
Now she didn't know where she belonged.
Robin and Nancy were great helps, so much so that through Nancy she discovered a love for writing again and joined Nancy working on the school newspaper.
It didn't clash with Hellfire which she didn't want to give up entirely as she loved D&D.
It did keep her mind off Eddie though and extremely busy throughout the school weeks, she still attended Hellfire meetings but didn't hang around after like she used to.
Eddie approached her as she was working on a news story with Nancy about Hawkins's fall festival this year.
"Hey, sweetheart?" she peers up and smiles at Eddie the smile slipping from her face when she sees Dianne at the Hellfire table looking furious.
It's not like she could avoid Eddie entirely. She gets Dianne hated her because of her feelings for Eddie but Dianne was the one who was in Eddie's affections, not her.
"Hi" he takes a seat and looks at her confused, glancing at the Hellfire table then back at her.
"You don't sit with us anymore. It's been two weeks. I miss... Hellfire misses you" she pauses and feels her heart skip a beat.
Was he about to say that he missed her?
"Sorry, Eds I've been so busy working on the newspaper. I never miss a tournament though so it's not like I don't see you".
He pouts and it's so cute and that coupled with his big brown eyes is adorable.
"You don't hang around after Hellfire now, can't remember the last time we hung out just the two of us" he sounds hurt and her heart tugs.
Nancy who isn't affected by Eddie's puppy dog look rolls her eyes.
"Eddie, do you mind we are on a deadline" Eddie nods still looking sad and she watches him go feeling rotten about everything.
She gets up to go and apologise to Eddie and approaches the table.
"Eddie" Dianne glares at her and before she can get a word in, Dianne stands up and begins to sob.
"Babe?" Eddie asks baffled by her sudden mood swing and Dianne points to her and says loudly.
"It's her Eddie, she has been sneaking about trying to break us up! I told her to back off, it's so obvious she has a crush on you and it's such an embarrassment"
Eddie stops dead in his tracks, Dustin and Gareth glare at Dianne and her heart cracks in two.
Eddie finally coming to his senses turns to her stunned.
"You have feelings for me?" With the whole school looking in on the conversation she feels sick with embarrassment and flees before Eddie can break her heart.
Steve senses her mood as soon as she heads into Family Video. He gives her a big hug and chats her ear off about his latest dates
"She is super sweet but Kaitlyn is cute and I don't know what one to choose, help me out here honey?" He pouts and can't help but giggle at his overdramatics as he flops on the floor exhausted.
"Steve, date the one you like the most" he gets up and sighs.
"But both are sweethearts but both want just sex and I'd like more than that you know? he softens. How are you holding up? With the cafeteria fiasco?"
She shrugs.
"Totally embarrassed. That's why I went home and then hid out here, I know I shouldn't have feelings for Eddie but did Dianne really need to embarrass me like that?"
Steve scowls.
"No, she didn't honey, come on. It's getting late, I can drive you home"
Eddie's mind was in turmoil, yn had feelings for him? How the fuck did he never notice?
Duetin, Gareth and honestly most of Hellfire took yn's side instead of Diannes after the lunch fiasco as they were furious that she was embarrassed like that.
So was he. Saying it to him was one thing but the whole school? It was too far.
He thought he was happy but something had changed for a while now before all of this and he didn't know what? It had been driving him crazy.
What the hell does he say to yn too? His thoughts were a mess.
As he passes Family Video he notices yn and Steve walk out together and Steve's jacket hangs around yn's shoulders as he wraps his arms around her.
The image imprints in Eddie's mind. Did she run to Steve for consoling and Harrington decided he was the better man for her?
Had Eddie lost a chance that he didn't know he had? Why did he feel so fucking wrecked inside?
Maybe because he loved yn too and like a fool he didn't realise it until the last second.
And now he was too late.
1K notes · View notes
kuumara · 1 year
Text
Hey, Lucas
Mike and Lucas are on patrol. They're not far away from the safe house, but that doesn't mean they're safe. Thankfully they've gotten better at defending themselves these past year, and now they can be more useful than just plotting new plans.
They've been walking in silence, too scared to make noise that might attract anything. But Mike's never liked silence, it makes him feel even more anxious.
Mike whispers. "Hey, Lucas-"
"Shh." Lucas shuts him up immediately. Alright, then.
"Damn. When did you turn into such a nag-"
"Shh!" Ugh. Mike rolls his eyes. No one's any fun around here anymore. Except Will. But he's mostly possessed, so Mike doesn't know if he would be like this too if he spent more time with the group. Mike wishes he wouldn't, but he also wishes he wouldn't be possessed anymore. He wishes everything would be back to how it was.
If everything were normal, he could've maybe went to California with Will, or wherever he wanted to go, and they could get an apartment or maybe go to college together. There's colleges that have an art program and a writing program in the same building, right? It's both art, isn't it? He wishes he didn't have to keep his dreams to himself. If he or Will were a girl, he could gush about that all he wants. But neither of them are a girl.
Mike isn't walking with Lucas through cold, heavy air that makes you barely able to breathe. He's on a beach in California, with Will and El, in Lenora. During that spring break.
He and El never started dating again, in this ideal world. They're friends. Like, real friends, not the kind of friends you say you're 'just friends' with. The sun is shining, not too bright and not too dim. There's not a lot of people around them, rare for a beach like this. Will is telling him to come swimming with him. They swim and play in the water for a while. Mike tries to playfully keep Will under the water, but he keeps clutching him and eventually they both give up, exhausted, arms around eachothe-
"Mike!" Lucas waves a hand in front of Mike's face. That, unfortunately, pulls Mike out of his daydreaming. He blinks at Lucas. They're on the porch of the safe house. They still have to stay here for some time, while the others are getting ready to go sleep.
"You wanted to talk before so badly. Now speak,"
Mike contemplates. What if he just- told Lucas about Will? He's probably noticed something's up. He's the 'love expert', after all. Either Lucas accepts him, or doesn't care because they've got more important stuff to handle than Mike's self-discovery. Or, Lucas doesn't accept him and he loses his best friend. Ruins this friendship. He doubts that'll happen, though- Lucas isn't like that. His motto is 'normal is crazy'. He's been called a freak all his life, he's basically Mike's brother, he wouldn't bail on his fellow freak...
"Mik-"
"I'm gay," Mike blurts out. Great, at least now he doesn't have to overthink anymore, it's out there now.
Lucas just stares at him. Mike closes his eyes, he already knows this is going wrong. He closes his eyes, and waits for the punch, or the insult, or the outing to everyone else, or something.
But nothing happens. Well, something happens. Lucas hugs him. Mike still doubts this is positive, and expects him to hiss something awful and humiliating in his ear.
But he doesn't. They just stand there, on the front porch of the barricaded safe house. So, this is a positive reaction after all, isn't it?
"And I- I love Will." Mike's mouth moves faster than his brain yet again. But at least he's saved from the overthinking, I guess-
"I love him so much. Love-love him. Don't tell him," Mike's voice starts to break. Lucas hugs him even tighter, and Mike can't help but cry.
He cries, for what seems like forever, he's surprised no one came to take the other watch shift yet, and he hopes they don't. He doesn't want to be seen like this.
And Lucas is hugging him and holding him close through all of the crying and sniffling and staining his jacket.
Eventually, Mike just stays standing there, Lucas still not letting go, Mike's head on his shoulder. He's tired, yet has never felt more well-rested. He feels understood and he feels safe.
"Thank you, for telling me." Lucas whispers into Mike's hair. His voice is wet, he's been crying as well.
"Look at me, Mike,"
Mike does that. His tired eyes sting in the cold, dry air. Lucas's eyes are red, too.
"Listen. If anyone would hurt you, I would stand up for you, wouldn't I?"
Mike nods.
"And do you think I would hurt you? Despite you knowing I would beat anyone's ass that would even look at you weird?"
Mike laughs. He's happy Lucas is his friend. He's happy he told him.
"I would have to stand up to myself if I'd hurt you." They both laugh. And Lucas hugs Mike some more.
"I'm always here for you." Mike smiles into his shoulder.
"And, about Will. Don't even worry about him, you've got the love master on your side after all-"
"No, Lucas-"
"The wedding bells will ring in no time! Put together your guest list and book your hotels! Pick a theme already! What color will the decorations be? The bridesmaids dresses-"
--
Lucas plans bylers wedding agenda
based (😎) on this post by @merth-or-nothin (finally learned how to embed shit)
234 notes · View notes
mrkis · 1 year
Text
punk 00. teaser. (l.jn)
Tumblr media
PAIRING: punk!jeno x reader GENRE: smut
SYNOPSIS: you've caught the attention of a certain pink haired drummer boy that's desperate to get you alone with him.
TEASER WORD COUNT: 4k.. don't question it. TEASER WARNINGS: nothing too extreme just flirty jeno, slight indications of what is going to happen, reader's best friend getting ignored lol
A.N: i’ll never get over pink haired jeno and neither will you. but anyways, the actual word count to the full oneshot will probably be around 30k or more so be prepared. this teaser may be lame, but there's a lot more going on.
posted!
Tumblr media
“I’m a huge fan of your music” Eunkyung gushes excitedly and you allow her to take control of the conversation, leaning her elbows on the table to lean forwards so her cleavage almost spilling out of the top of her dress purposely. You admire her for her confidence even though you so badly want to tell her she doesn’t have to try so hard to get someone’s attention, she’s gorgeous. “I’ve been to almost every single one of your shows here!!”
“Have you been to any of our shows?” Jeno asks and it takes you a few seconds to realise that he’s talking to you when you notice everyone is staring at you, waiting for a reply. The corner of Jeno’s lip twitches upwards slightly as he tilts his head to the side, “Is this your first time?”
“She’s never been” Eunkyung answers for you and you nod your head to confirm. “She doesn’t even like this type of music. I practically had to force her out of her—”
“Is there something wrong with our music?” Donghyuck mocks offence with his hand pressed against his chest like you actually wounded him and Jaemin tuts with a quick shake of his head, mumbling jokingly about how much of a fake fan you are while Renjun stays silent with a grin, watching everything unfold.
“There’s nothing wrong with your music… it’s just that nobody can top WayV”
“You like Wayv?” Jaemin gapes at you, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline and you nod your head. “I think I might seriously be in love with you right now” The boys laugh at that, teasing Jaemin for his ‘embarrassing’ choice of words while Jeno remains quiet with a small grin on his face, keeping his eyes on you which starts to make you feel a little bit stuffy, especially with how his body is pressed against your side too.
“WayV is incredible” Eunkyung pitches in above the laughter and you smile at her, forever grateful for the time she cleared her schedule to go with you to one of their concerts. You seriously owe her one for that. “Jeno, do you like WayV too?”
“They’re great” Jeno hums, his answer short and to the point. Eunkyung beams excitedly and she opens her mouth to speak again but Jeno’s already beat her to it, “Is this really your first time watching us here?”
“Yeah” You confirm, glancing over at Eunkyung who seems a little defeated and you frown at that, not wanting to see her upset or left out so you point over at her, hoping to bring his attention to her this time. “But, like Eunkyung said, she’s a huge fan of—”
“I think you should let me show you what’s backstage here…” Jeno leans forward to whisper lowly to you, even though it was caught by everyone sitting in the booth. His dark eyes stare at you through his pink bangs, awaiting your answer but you struggle to give him one when everyone is staring at you both. Eunkyung’s in complete and utter shock, mouth hung wide and brows pulling together.
She didn’t look impressed, not one bit, and you honestly couldn’t blame her with the way she has been flirting with Jeno this entire time only for him to ignore all the advances given and ask you if you wanted to see what was backstage. 
But the phrase itself must mean more than what it actually was due to how everyone was reacting. His members look quite impressed, maybe even a little smug too considering how they’re not so subtly nudging each other beneath the table and Jaemin’s wiggling his brows, mouthing the word ‘Jeno Magic’ which you caught after Donghyuck’s quick gasp. Eunkyung seems flabbergasted, unable to form any words even though her mouth opens and closes repeatedly.
“What do you say?” Jeno grabs your attention and you turn to face him as his hand knocks against yours lightly. His hand sneaks in the gap between the table and yours with his palm facing upwards, connecting your hands together by slipping his fingers through the gaps of yours, holding your hand gently in his. The warmth of his hand is a complete contrast to his cold metal rings that nip your skin, but it’s weirdly comforting as you find yourself curling your fingers to intertwine with his. “Let me take you backstage… just me and you, yeah? Come with me”
Tumblr media
©mrkis
809 notes · View notes
can-youimagine · 1 year
Text
100 (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)
Summary: set in episode 05x09 "100"
Word Count: 589
TW: Angst, reader kills foyet, guns, canon typical violence, blood, minor character death
Part of my Snippets of a Man in Love series!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Aaron Hotchner has stared death in the eye more times than any person should. He has never been more scared than he is in this moment. He wills the car to drive faster, he wills time to slow around him, he wills for you to be okay.
He feels the car lurch as he puts it in park before it has even stopped. He rushes out, running up the driveway of your perfect house.
“Aaron! I found the best house, you’ll love it. When does your flight land?” He can hear you wander through the hotel room. 
“I think ten thirty,” he answers. 
“Oh, great! I also found this little sandwich shop. God, it’s incredible.” He listens to you gush about the city and how excited you are before you circle back to the house, telling him about the way the light comes in through the window into the kitchen and the laundry room that leads right out to the backyard-already fenced in-where your kids will play. He makes up his mind that that is the house you are getting, no matter what.
He hears the gunshot before he can open the door. His heart stops. “No,” he whispers. This can’t be happening, he couldn’t have heard a gunshot because you and Jack were not shot. You and Jack are safe, and you and Jack are going to laugh at him when he comes in in a panic because he has nothing to worry about. You’re fine. You’re fine.
You’re fine.
You stand in the kitchen, covered in blood. “Aaron,” you breathe before breaking into sobs. “Aaron, I-I didn’t want-I didn’t know-I was-I-” you choke.
He tosses his gun aside, running over to you. He barely registers the body on the floor. “You’re okay,” he says, assuring himself just as much as you. “You’re okay. Give me the gun.” He takes it out of your hands, setting it on the counter. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is Jack still upstairs?”
You nod.
“Okay,” is all he can say. What else can he say? There’s no rulebook for what to do when your spouse has to kill a man who’s made it his life mission to kill you and the people you love. He’s not sure how long he stands with you before the team shows up. It could’ve been an hour. It could’ve been a minute.
He watches as they pull you into an ambulance. He watches as JJ takes Jack. he watches as the corner drags Foyet’s body out of the house. 
As soon as he steps out of the house, the team is surrounding him. They start asking questions, or maybe they’re telling him something. He’s not sure. He almost lost everyone he’s ever loved, everyone he’s ever been loved by all because he had an overinflated sense of justice. If had an ounce of selfishness in him, you wouldn’t have had to go through any of this.
He pushes his way passed all of them, going over to Jack. He picks the boy up, holding him tightly to his chest as Jack asks where you are. With a sigh, Aaron says that you’re at the hospital and that you’ll be home soon. 
He doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t know how soon is soon or that he doesn’t know where home is or that he doesn’t when you’ll ever recover. None of that’s important right now. You both are, at the very least, physically safe. You can work through the rest of it later, together.
228 notes · View notes
docholligay · 2 months
Text
The Night Watch by Sarah Waters
THIS IS ALL SPOILERY AND ALL OF IT IS JUST GUSHING AND RAMBLING AND VIBES. NO ACTUAL REVIEW WE DIE LIKE MEN.
I love this book. We all know I love this book. I have read this book at least a dozen time sand we all know I'm going to read it again. I'm never sure whether I like this or Tipping the Velvet more, but I think as a piece of literature, this is the better book. (But Tipping the Velvet is the one I often recommend to people. Sarah Waters can be hard for some people to hang with and Tipping is her fluffiest.)
Kay Langrish, what a fucking piece of work this bitch is. She's so pathetic, and I do sort of resent her for it, but also I love her. I want to beat the shit out of her. She's Poor Little Rich Butch who literally shuts herself the fuck away and gazes out the window all day. She's one of those people for whom the war was the best thing that ever happened to her, and people like this do exist! Some people are great in a crisis, and some people are ONLY good in a crisis. Is it about her being butch and that being easier in wartime? Sure, but Mickey has it even worse and seems to manage being a member of society. (Mickey is the best person in this novel and perhaps of all time. I love her so much, she takes it all in so much stride in her shitty little houseboat, and then she offers it to Kay. Mickey will be played by Lena Oxton in the blorbo adpatation in my head and Kay will be played by Haruka Tenoh) I think Kay is just a fucking rich loser, and I love that for her.
Viv! What a moron. My wife read this book and her takeaway was the the book was about "Gay losers and a token sad straight woman" and she is not wrong. I love how much Viv hates her life in the present day and how pathetic she feels it all is, but she can't get away from it, because! Yes!! I always privately hope that the book will be different this time and there's an afterword where Viv goes and finds Kay and they get together, because I think Viv could be perfectly happy being Kay's wife and being doted on. She wants that! And Reggie will never ever give it to her (blah blah not being into women whatever it's my fantasy afterword and I can do what I want with it)
Speaking of morons let's talk about Helen. I hate Helen and I LOVE her storyline. I love her absolute dedication to ruining her own life. I'm not saying she has to love Kay, I would love to be doted on by Kay but it's not for everyone, and I'm not entirely convinced they didn't get together for any reason other than Helen felt grateful to her. BUT, what about with Julia? What about her insane reactions, the way she barely allows Julia to have friends, the way every time they go a party Helen acts like everyone is trying to fuck Julia? She basically manifests an affair into happening by her constant assumption that it is. IF Julia is sleeping around, of course that's her bad behavior, but let's not pretend like Helen's ridiculous suspicion and quarreling over nothing, her low-key resentment of Julia's success, isn't doing anything.
And Duncan, man, talk about your easily led, whatever's happening is what may as well happen, type. His thing with the junk that he considers 'antique' is so sad. He lives in a little boy's room and is kept like a little boy as a sexual pet and it would be disturbing if it wasn't so much just what Duncan had decided was the logical next step just like killing himself along with Alec. He was happier in fucking prison, it almost seems because there at least everything was just...decided for him.
I wonder if Waters isn't making a commentary about the idea that London and the UK more broadly was "never better than in the Blitz" and all that Blitz spirit stuff which i confess I can be real prone to as well, but I don't live there and am allowed to engage in a bit of romance over a situation that in no way involves me. Is Waters saying, "If we think that we, as a country, city, community, were never better than when we were actively being firebombed, it might just be that we have decided that, and have decided not to make ourselves better than that moment. Anytime, we could decide to be a better London & UK, but we aren't doing that. We're staring at the rubble and wishing we were there." I don't know! I have literally never thought this before it just came to me while writing this, it might be bullshit.
Basically the summary of this novel could be "Four people ruin their own lives because they aren't sure they deserve anything better" and I wouldn't argue with that. I love this book so fucking much.
24 notes · View notes
cyrojelly · 1 year
Text
Snv! Lu Bu x Seductive! Reader
For the record, this is purely self-indulgent for me as I love that feral man!
Tumblr media
- First and foremost, you two are gonna get side eyes and looks! Nobody has no clue how you two are together, with him being all feral and brutish while you are siren eyes and sparkles!
- Lu bu was initially attracted to your demeanor how you demand attention with your presence and how you take nothing from nobody but he fell in love with your sweet nature and how you're always so confident in him!
- You have no problems telling everyone you're together, and you're often seen hanging off his arm and will defend him to the ends of the heavens!
- Lu Bu will take you out to watch him train and / or train you to defend yourself when he's not around, though he's stoic and can get intense it's a fun time since he knows your not as strong as he is and is more gentle with you!
- In turn, you take him shopping with you he will hold all of your shopping bags without complaint and likes showing off his strength! Modeling clothing for him is a must, and he will greatly appreciate it! Man will practically throw money at anything you look at you want it, it's yours as I believe he'd have a lot of money as a war general!
- You get real touchy with him, always caressing him and telling him how gorgeous he is to you. He adores your praise! You once gushed to your friends about him over the phone, and he could almost swore he heard wedding bells!
- Other people and gods claim to have no clue what you see in him since their impression of him is a feral beast of a man that is always two seconds away from a rampage. Their not completely wrong but you like that feral side to him it makes for a very fun time (especially at night~).
- But you know there's more to him than that, and you will fight anyone who dares to talk down to your man! He will also bash anyone who talks down to you either. Yall are wild, but you're wild together and wouldn't trade each other for the world!
- He's not the most romantic guy out there and not really the best with his words, so he often shows you through action, either holding you close or gently biting you (you can't tell me he doesn't love bite during intimate moments) not to hurt but to mark you as his and since he knows you love it when he gets a bit playful!
- Your top supporters are Chen and lu bu's army they adore having you around since you make Lu Bu happy and because you're very sweet and help them convey things to lu bu that they're a bit too nervous to!
- Cuddling in bed is a must no matter how busy he is, he will always take time to hold you close and show you how much you mean to him!
- Since you are pretty seductive, a lot of people tend to take it the wrong way and believe your flirting even though you were just being nice and may attempt to pursue you further so yeah you've had a few stalkers in your life but lucky for you lu bu is now in the picture so all you have to do is say the word and your man is taking care of the issue!
- Overall, it's a very loving relationship despite what anyone thinks, and you'll go to the ends of the earth for each other! He's yours and your his!
_________________________________________
Thanks for reading, and let me know if you all want more, Lu bu! Have a great day! -Neo☆
112 notes · View notes
nutzgunray-lvt · 8 months
Text
Hot Seat
It's finally here! I had the plot more or less outlined from the beginning, but writer's block hit me in regards to the ending. I wasn't sure if I wanted Aizawa to realize how much of an asshole he had been up to that point or double down on it, so I decided to leave it open for the most part. I wrote this fic because the scene this was inspired from (the 4th light novel where the teachers have a get together after the School Festival) really pissed me off. They knew damn well that Izuku had trust issues in regards to going to his teachers for help... and did nothing. Only All Might cared, and everyone else just brushed it off.
The School Festival went off without a hitch, but Toshinori wasn't happy.
After enduring two villain attacks less than three months apart, UA's students got to be just that again: students. The school buzzed with an intense energy that seemingly invigorated everyone present, and the first years in particular presented one amazing event after another, but Toshinori wasn't happy.
It didn't make any sense. He should have been happy. School was closed today, as well as the next, letting everyone have a much deserved break. Everyone had a blast visiting the various kiosks, games, and shows. He was slowly but surely getting used to a life of retirement, and he had gotten his teaching license.
So why wasn't he happy?
After everything had been taken down and the students were sent off to bed, Toshinori had been cajoled into staying up with the rest of the teachers for a sort of after-party (as if they hadn't done enough celebrating during the festival). He wasn't in a particularly celebratory mood, but he didn't really have the energy to fight Present Mic's incessant tugging on his arm as he tried heading upstairs to his room.
"It won't be any fun without you!" the younger blonde had pleaded.
As the other teachers made drinks and broke off into small groups, Thirteen seemed to notice his less than cheerful mood. She pulled him into a corner with two non-alcoholic beers to regale him with stories of the latest nature documentary that had just been released. It had actually worked for a while - he and the young Hero both loved nature and she was good company in general, but Toshinori couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Out of the corner of eye, he could see Aizawa peering over at him in between sips of his own beer.
It made him feel unexpectedly angry. God, just what did he do this time?
Since starting at UA, Toshinori had quickly learned that the young Underground Hero had some sort of bone to pick with him. Efforts to make things right (what had he done wrong?) had proven to be less than fruitful, so Toshinori gave up and decided to settle on a peaceful co-existence with him. After all, it wasn't the first time he hadn't gotten along with a fellow Hero, and it wouldn't be the last. Seeing as how the man had to be blackout drunk to say anything remotely kind to him, Toshinori knew he had to pick his battles.
But that seemed to not be working out anymore.
Now, Present Mic was looking concernedly over at him as well, and he wasn't being subtle about it either. Thirteen had been gushing about a section of the documentary centered around the Eastern Siberian Mountains, and Toshinori tried to be as engaged as much as he could (she had a hellish recovery from the USJ attack, so she sure as hell deserved that much), but the feeling of two additional pairs of eyes on him was making his skin crawl, and he hadn't even touched his drink -
"Yo, All Might!" Present Mic called out from across the common room. "Why are you so quiet all of a sudden? What's with the bad mood?"
That had gotten Cementoss's attention as well. "Is everything alright?" he asked with genuine concern. The gesture was nice, but now everyone was looking over at him.
Great.
"Sorry," he mumbled, running a hand over his worn face. God, he should have just gone to bed. They could deal with one night of him staying out of the party. Now, he had ruined everything -
"Our colleague is dispirited over the incident concerning Midoriya of 1-A," Ectoplasm explained patiently.
As everyone nodded and murmured to one another about this development, Toshinori let the memories of this afternoon wash over him: how Young Midoriya's phone kept going to voicemail, how the older man had been so overcome with worry that something bad had happened to him that he spent a good fifteen minutes in the staff bathroom, barely holding back a panic attack. He had known the green haired boy for a little over a year and half, and he had already held a very special place in the retired teacher's heart. It's why it hurt him when Ectoplasm had told him about the boy's fight with Gentle Criminal and La Brava. He had bested them and got away with little to no injuries, but why didn't his successor tell him what was going on? He wouldn't have been in any trouble. Ectoplasm and Hound Dog were out patrolling for a reason, and they would have taken over without hesitation. They wouldn't have faulted him for deferring to his teachers - Hound Dog told him that.
Why did Young Midoriya never tell anyone anything?
Did he not trust him?
What was he doing wrong as a mentor?
"He's always doing this, shouldering these burdens by himself. It's like he's incapable of reaching out for help…" Toshinori muttered, sighing heavily.
"Hey, are you seriously getting drunk off of this non-alcoholic stuff?" Midnight teased as she took his drink and double checked the label, admittedly looking more troubled than her comment let on.
The older man pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. "This is serious, Midnight," he said as patiently as he could. "First Hosu, then Kamino Ward, and now this? Clearly this is a recurring issue with Young Midoriya, no matter how many times we get onto him about it. I'm terrified that this will get him killed."
Aizawa's expression was grave as he shook his head and muttered, "Yeah, and that sounds just like a certain hero we all know, doesn't it?"
And that did it for Toshinori.
He tried to stay calm, he really did. He could hear Nana's steady voice telling him, "Count to ten. Get control of your temper." But something about Aizawa's remark had made him so angry that it overtook the remaining rationality he had been operating on. He had initially been planning on removing himself from the situation entirely and sleeping it off, but protective rage and unresolved tension between the two put the retired hero on the offensive.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped, trying to calm his shaking hands as he shot to his feet.
The common room was deathly quiet now, the tension so heavy it could be cut with a plastic knife. Knowing that the raven haired man would undoubtedly want to have the last word, he preemptively shot a hand up to stop it. "Actually, don't answer that question. I have something that I've been meaning to say for quite a while now."
He began pacing back and forth, trying to count to ten as Nana had always told him to do when his emotions began getting the better of him. As much as Aizawa had infuriated him in the moment (and since the first of school, if he were being honest), the rest of his colleagues didn't deserve to see him lose his temper on them.
"Aizawa, I know that you'll probably never get along with me, and that's something I've grown to realize and accept. But whatever negative feelings you have towards me have nothing to do with Young Midoriya!"
The other teachers looked amongst each other in varying degrees of surprise and uncomfortableness before staring at Aizawa, who for his part, looked unflappable.
"What are you getting at, All Might?"
"We both know what I'm talking about, so don't play ignorant," All Might responded. "You've had a bias against him since the first day of school, placing him last in your Quirk Assessment Test and threatening to expel him in front of his classmates over his -"
"I was trying to be realistic," Aizawa interrupted, setting his beer down. "He can't keep hurting himself every time -"
"What exactly are you doing to remedy that?" Toshinori asked, his voice getting louder. "All I've seen you tell Young Midoriya is for him to figure it out himself! For that matter, that's all you tell the rest of his classmates as well! Young Kaminari risks brain damage every time he misuses his Quirk, and Young Aoyama -"
"They've had their Quirks for well over ten years, Yagi," Aizawa impatiently said, getting to his feet. "If they don't have control over their Quirks by now, why are they even here?"
Midnight raised a placating hand, her eyes darting between the two men.
"You have a point, Yagi," she interjected. "But so does Shota. The kids should have been regularly seeing a Quirk Counselor starting in elementary school. Surely it should have helped."
The retired hero closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had wanted to keep One For All and Young Midoriya's past Quirklessness a secret for a reason. Not only was it not his place to go around telling everyone, but it had been for his own protection - especially with the League of Villains and All For One actively targeting the school. But as the saying went: the road to hell was paved with good intentions. In his efforts to protect his successor, it seems to have only caused other ultimately unnecessary problems for him in the long run.
Would there ever be a moment where he wasn't failing his boy?
"I understand where you're coming from, Midnight," he slowly started, not exactly sure where to get where he was going with this. "but Quirk Counseling isn't infallible. And as for Young Midoriya… he didn't get his Quirk until last February."
Silence. Dead, heavy silence.
Out of the corner of his eye, understanding dawned on his colleagues' faces as they exchanged unreadable looks amongst each other. A part of him felt vindicated when he saw Aizawa's brow wrinkle in confusion, but that opened yet another can of worms that he was too angry to keep closed.
One problem at a time. Potentially letting them know the truth behind One For All could come later. Right now, he needed to know why Young Midoriya's homeroom teacher looked so uncomprehending of this revelation of his.
"His Quirk manifested late for his own protection. Had he not had the physical conditioning and muscle mass he has now, it would have killed him. It was in his file that he got his Quirk Status changed the week before the school year started," Toshinori said slowly, disbelief slowly overtaking the anger previously coloring his voice. Surely the younger man at least read his students' files before school had started? Right? Surely, he wouldn't be that negligent. "Did you not read it? Did you not read any of their files?"
The silence that followed his question said it all.
Hound Dog was glaring at the man, crushing his empty beer can in his hand, and even Present Mic shot his best friend a soft, "Seriously, Sho? What the hell?"
"Prejudices exist," Aizawa said, trying to justify himself. "History can be misleading. I'd rather get to know my students as they are now than have my judgment clouded by someone's opinions on them from elementary and middle school."
It took everything in Toshinori to not hit his head against the wall over and over again (it was right there, just another two or so steps). In theory, Aizawa was right on the nose. People changed, especially children. It's why their end of term report cards included comments from the teachers; it was the best way to document these changes. For that matter, teachers could be biased, prejudiced even. The myriad of cases of teachers falsifying student records due to Quirk related discrimination said as much.
But how could Aizawa, a man who prided himself for his logical decision making, be so perceptive yet so obtuse?
"I understand that, Aizawa, and you're right to a degree," The older man conceded. At least the sheer disbelief was calming him down before he well and truly lost his temper. "But have you considered that as well intentioned as that line of thinking may be, it's led you to form prejudices of your own?"
He had clearly hit a sore spot, given how Aizawa glared at him.
"They're not prejudices," he ground out through gritted teeth. "They're rational observations -"
"You saw a child struggling with a strength enhancement Quirk, automatically equated it with me, and proceeded to mistreat him over it. You wax poetry over how biased society is towards powerful, flashy Quirks, yet you completely neglect to help the students you have that are negatively affected by that belief. You also saw another child with a flashy and powerful Quirk, yet you turned a blind eye to his horrible behavior due to his 'hard work'. If that's not prejudiced, then I'm the Pope."
At the mention of the blonde, red eyed boy, Cementoss fished out a value sized Aspirin bottle, popping one in his mouth before handing the bottle off to Ectoplasm. Despite having been expelled back in September, the mention of Young Bakugou was still a headache trigger for his colleagues.
"He was a hard worker…" Aizawa doubled down, seemingly realizing how hollow the reasoning sounded.
"Hard work doesn't justify bullying!" Hound Dog growled, stalking towards the younger man. "As a homeroom teacher, it's your responsibility to make sure your students have a healthy environment to grow in!"
As the counselor dissolved into a mess of growling and barking peppered with "Aizawa" and "emotional negligence", Vlad King guided him outside to help him calm down. As the door to the courtyard was quietly shut, everyone's attention turned back to the man currently in the hot seat.
"I'll admit to my own shortcomings as a mentor," Toshinori said to get things back on track, "because when it came to Young Midoriya and Young Bakugou, I was unable to see the forest for the trees. I also thought that their relationship was a long-standing rivalry that needed to be worked through, but I should have stopped and asked myself this a long time ago: does a rivalry involve such one-sided animosity?"
"That's why I paired them against you for the final exams. It was so they could learn to work together -"
"Again, the final exams showed that this lack of cooperation was a one sided problem, Aizawa." Toshinori bluntly interrupted. "May I remind you that Young Bakugou not only assaulted Young Midoriya for attempting to follow the directions of the exam, but he told me point blank that he would rather fail outright than cooperate with Young Midoriya? In what way does that indicate an issue on both ends?"
Aizawa bit on the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms defensively.
"That's not even counting the Battle Trials, which is also my mistake. Young Bakugou was attacking with lethal force, and the only thing he said to me when I warned him to stop was: 'he won't die if he dodges.' He knew he could have killed Young Midoriya, but he didn't care."
"Damn," Snipe muttered from next to Cementoss, shaking his head.
"As I said before, I'm also not blameless when it comes to this. I should have stopped the match right there and lobbied for a stronger punishment. But do you remember what you said after seeing the recording? 'Grow up already. Stop wasting your talent.' You said this in response to him knowingly nearly killing another student -"
"You've made your point, Yagi!" Aizawa warned, his voice raised as he glared up at the older man.
"And their fight the night of the Provisional License Exam," Toshinori continued, his own voice growing louder. "Footage from the Camera-Bots showed Young Midoriya attempting to leave and deescalate the situation, only to be stopped by Young Bakugou, and yet you decided that Young Midoriya was equally at fault for what happened. In light of all of this, let me ask you this: do you hate Young Midoriya?"
He thought that Aizawa was going to go to the grave before giving an answer, given how he gripped his bicep and glared at him. but to his surprise, the Underground Hero shook his head.
"No. I don't hate him."
Present Mic scoffed, shaking his head in what seemed to be disappointment as he stared up at his friend.
"Well, that's what it looks like, Sho," he said with a grave look on his face. "Do you ever think about how you sound when you talk to him, or how it comes across when you talk about him to us?"
The Underground Hero couldn't quite hide the betrayal he felt, but it was mitigated by the guilt and knowing shame he was fighting not to express. It seemed like he wasn't used to Present Mic going against him in matters like this.
"The rest of us," the English teacher motioned to the other teachers, "really enjoy having Midoriya in class. He's kind, cooperative, and incredibly smart." His point was punctuated by Midnight, Cementoss, and Ectoplasm nodding in agreement. "You, on the other hand… you're constantly calling him 'Problem Child' and you don't acknowledge him unless you're threatening to expel him, punishing him, or otherwise criticizing him for something. Come to think of it, I've only heard you say one positive thing about the kid. One, and it wasn't even about him alone. Can you really blame people for thinking that you hate him?"
Aizawa slowly shook his head, sinking back into his chair with an uncharacteristically troubled look on his face.
"I just don't want him to get himself killed with his recklessness," he said more so to himself as he stared at his lap.
"There are way better ways of showing it instead of acting offended by his very existence," Midnight piped up, looking thoroughly unimpressed with his answer. "You can't treat people like this and expect them to completely trust and rely on you. Why else do you think he keeps going behind your back and getting into dangerous situations? For that matter, why else do you think your students are terrified to come to you for any questions they have on their assignments or anything else school related?"
Frustration clouded the younger man's face as he shrugged his shoulders.
"Trust and respect is a two-way street," Ectoplasm said. "Midoriya has been making wonderful progress in regards to his Quirk control, but that effort rarely goes acknowledged."
"We understand the hardships you've endured as a Hero," Cementoss added. "But you shouldn't take your negative feelings out on your students. They've done nothing to deserve that behavior from you."
"Your expulsion record speaks for itself," Snipe said, having been silent up to this point. "If it were just a handful of kids, we wouldn't think anything of it. because some of them just aren't cut out for heroics. But over 100 students? Something's clearly not adding up, and it's not the kids."
Aizawa opened his mouth, then closed it. For someone who always needed to have the last word, it was a little disorienting for Toshinori to see him at a loss for words. Though he still looked unflappable for the most part, the way his eyes moved showed that his colleagues' words clearly hit home for him. But whether or not he took these words to heart was something that was left up in the air.
After all, Aizawa was an incredibly stubborn man.
34 notes · View notes
storytimewriting · 2 months
Text
Watching Paint Dry (HRN3)
Hi everyone!
I know it's been some time, with busy holidays, vacationing, and getting sick on top of that.
But still, I am so excited to update the HR Nightmare Series!
Here are the first two chapters if you have not read them yet, or if you just need a little refresher: Chapter 1: Perpetually Late Chapter 2: First Night at Freddy's  
Again, this is a series that I hold close to my heart. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
I would love to hear your thoughts.
I plan on updating more frequently than I have been! Working on the next chapter as you read.
(word count: about 5.7k)
xx gwen <3
________
HR Nightmare (3)
Watching Paint Dry
You were getting more comfortable in your new job. If you were this comfortable in three weeks, you’re certain you’ll feel at home once you hit a month.
You’ve had a few projects since the last one you worked on with Elle. None of them were anything major, just small designs for advertising and websites mostly, but you loved it. Getting paid to do something you love was a dream come true.
You went to Freddy’s with the same group of people last Friday as well. It seemed as though it was going to become a routine for you and your new group of friends to go out together on Fridays to unwind from the work week.
The more time you spent with these people, the more you learned about them. You were actually starting to feel close to them. You finally felt like you had friends at work.
Nothing has really changed with Elle. You felt more comfortable around her, but that just means you’ve started to get used to her teasing and attitude. For anything you say, she has some smart remark ready to throw back at you. It still gets under your skin more than you’d like to admit, but you’re starting to learn how to deal with her.
It’s Tuesday when Mr. Cooper calls you into his office.
“Yes, Mr. Cooper?”
He holds a finger up to you as you stand in front of the door you closed behind you, telling you this will only be a second. The finger points at the couch against the wall, so you take a seat while you wait for him to finish the phone call.
“Yes,” he speaks into the phone. “Yes, we can do that, too. Of course, we keep all our departments in house.” You can’t hear the person responding on the other side of the line. “Great, just send me the written instructions. We should have it done by the end of the week.”
You fiddle with your fingers as you wait for him to finish. You’re not sure why he didn’t just wait until he was off the phone to call you in, but he looks at you and smiles throughout the conversation, almost as if you were both in on some joke together. You didn’t know why he was smiling.
He throws out a quick goodbye into the phone before hanging up. He laces his fingers together and places his hands on the desk in front of him, smiling wide at you.
“Are you ready for another collaboration?” he asks.
You laugh at his demeanor. Some people think of this man as a hard ass, but from what you’ve seen, he’s quite the softy.
“Of course, sir. Who with this time?”
“Anthony,” he watches your lips twitch upward at his name, then continues, “and Elle.” His smile widens.
Yours drops, but you try to cover the displeasure. He notices anyway and laughs.
“It should be an easy project,” he assures you. “Anthony designed a new website for one of our clients, and they’re looking for someone to add graphic designs.”
“Oh that sounds like fun,” you gush, but quickly your face fades into confusion. “Wait, what does that have to do with Elle?”
“They need a good first blog post to draw attention, and they asked specifically for her to write it. They saw the work you and Elle did with the coffee project, and wanted a similar look to their website and blog,” he explains.
“Okay, that sounds great. When do they want this by?”
“The end of the week. It should be simple enough, but there are quite a few graph designs they want. Both Anthony and Elle will have the details, so they can each direct you through what they need.” He shuffles some papers around on his desk, opens his drawer, and places them in a file. “You can start with Anthony in the conference room since he’s already had a start on the project.”
“Yes, sir,” you smile, then turn to leave.
“Elle will join the two of you shortly. I’m sure she’ll want to assess everything herself before she works in a group,” he tells you before you open the door.
“Okay, thank you Mr. Cooper.”
You leave his office, grab your tablet and laptop from your desk, then walk to the conference room. Anthony has his head buried in his computer and his finger between his teeth as he studies whatever is on his screen. He only looks up when you shut the door. When his eyes meet yours, he smiles.
“Cora,” he cheers. “I’ve been dying to work with the best graphic designer in this company- don’t tell Mark I said that,” he adds quickly.
You laugh. “Of course not. So what are we working on?”
“Mr. Cooper didn’t tell you?” His head tilts with his question.
“He gave me a run down, but he told me you and Elle would fill me in on specifics. I know you designed a new webpage for the company, but I don’t know exactly what graphic designs you’re looking for.”
His eyes stay trained on yours as you speak and he nods his head in understanding. “Ahh,” he waves his hand at you, calling you over. “Let me show you.”
You take a seat next to him, placing your tablet and computer in front of you. He tilts his screen towards you, where you can see a mostly completed webpage. There are a few empty boxes that you assume to be placeholders for where your designs are meant to go.
“It’s for a skating company,” he begins. “They used to be specifically branded for skateboarding, but they want to expand to reach a wider audience. That’s why they’re basically rebranding themselves,” he explains.
“That makes sense. So what kind of designs are they looking for?” You look up at him when you ask.
He holds eye contact with you, a friendly smile painted on his face. Anthony is handsome. Soft brown hair and pretty eyes to match, it makes sense that he would be with someone like Elle. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask, and you nearly let it slip, but you manage to keep your composure.
“Well, they’ll be adding roller-skates, bicycles, and scooters to the products they sell, so they want the designs to reflect products that all people can buy,” he points to the different sections of the webpage on his screen as he speaks, where you assume the corresponding design would go.
“Did they give you specifics on how they want me to do that?”
“Honestly, not really. They left a lot of room for creative freedom.” His head snaps to yours and his eyes widen slightly. “But they want the overall style to match- they were very clear about that.”
“Okay, so they want a skateboard,” you point to the first blank square on his screen, “roller-skates,” you point to the second, “a bike,” the third, “and a scooter,” then the fourth. You look up at him for confirmation.
He rubs the top of your head endearingly. Generally, an action like this would annoy you, but coming from Anthony it is actually quite sweet. He acts on his emotions, always coming from a good place.
“You catch on quick, kid,” he smiles.
“We’re the same age.”
“Actually, I’m a year and three months older than you,” he corrects.
You shake your head at him. “Okay grandpa,” you tease, “I’ll come up with a few mockups for you to approve of before I start the final designs.”
“Works for me, but you may want to wait for Elle. She’s much more picky with her work than I am, so you probably want to match the designs to her demands,” he warns you.
You sigh. You know he’s right.
“So it’s not just me she’s like that with?” you ask. You nearly cringe when the words come from your mouth. You didn’t even realize you were saying them.
His eyebrows crease slightly, but not in anger. The rest of his face remains soft. “What do you mean?”
“I- well it’s just,” you stumble over your words a bit, not wanting to insult Elle to one of her best friend’s faces. “She’s just not very patient with me. I was scared it was just a ‘me’ thing.”
“Ahh,” his mouth opens in understanding as he nods his head. “No, that’s not just a ‘you’ thing. She can be a little…” he pauses, searching for the right word.
“Harsh?” you offer.
“She’s just a perfectionist,” he corrects. “She doesn’t mean to be harsh, but she’s just always that way with her work. I don’t think she realizes the pressure she puts on other people- or herself, for that matter.”
“What about outside of work?”
“Huh?”
“Is she like that with people outside of work too?” You know you’re pushing boundaries now, but you can’t help it when you’re finally getting the answers you’ve been yearning for.
A knowing smile crosses his face. At the same time his mouth opens to speak, so does the conference room door. Both your heads snap to look at the person walking in.
“Elle, baby,” Anthony calls out. “You miss me so much you gotta come see me on company time?”
“You wish,” she rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch upward.
She closes the door behind her and walks further into the conference room, taking a seat on the other side of Anthony. She places her laptop in front of her and opens it.
“Did you finish the blog already?” His entire body leans over her, looking at her screen and effectively blocking her view of it as well.
She pushes his head out of the way softly, but he allows himself to be moved. “I got the assignment twenty minutes ago. I’m good but I’m not God,” she shakes her head.
“You’re basically God,” he admits.
He looks at her as though he genuinely believes the words coming from his mouth. Your fingers toy with each other as you watch them interact. You don’t feel you have a place to speak. Honestly, you feel like you’re interrupting something just by being in the room.
That is, until Elle makes eye contact with you. “Have any mock-ups for me yet?” she asks.
“No, I- well Anthony just explained the project to me, but I thought I’d wait for your demands for the designs before starting. I know they’re all supposed to be the same sort of theme, so I want to make sure they’ll match,” you ramble on, offering more information than needed.
Her eyebrows lift as you speak and she attempts to muffle a smile- she’s amused. You’ve gotten much better at reading her.
“Probably smart.”
Her compliments are subtle, and few and far between, but you soak each one in like water.
“So-“
“I have an idea for the blog,” she cuts you off. “But let me see the webpage first,” she pulls Anthony’s computer in front of her to scan over the work he did.
“You like it?” Anthony asks. He leans back in his chair and throws an elbow over the top of it. “I know, I do good work,” he pats himself on the back before she even has the chance to agree.
She side eyes him and shakes her head lightly. “Yeah, yeah. So obviously they’re expanding. I want the blog to speak directly to the potential new customers, without shutting out their initial clientele. I think the designs need to match that- like softer, brighter colors, but I think it would be cool to keep the graffiti look in all the words.” Her eyes drift from the screen, to Anthony’s, to yours, and back.
The two of you stare at her in awe. You’re not sure how her mind comes up with the entire basis of a project so quickly. You almost tell her she should be a graphic designer, but you hold your tongue, scared the words may insult her somehow.
“We know they need to follow a general theme, but it might be smart to add some variation. I mean, they want to bring in varying customers, so we’ll have the designs reflect that.” She looks at you expectantly, and you realize she’s waiting for your confirmation.
“Oh, yes- right- that sounds good. That makes a lot of sense actually,” you clumsily respond.
“Well, yeah. I thought of it,” she says smugly.
“You have to be careful when you compliment this one,” Anthony speaks up. “If her ego grows any more we won’t all fit in here,” he nudges her arm with his.
“Oh shut up,” she laughs.
Was it that easy to soften her up after acting like a smartass? Why couldn’t you change her mood as easily as Anthony does?
“Okay, so should I start with the basic designs for the mockups? Then you both can tell me if there’s anything you want changed,” you offer.
“I’m sure it’ll be Elle who offers critiques,” Anthony says.
She rolls her eyes and pushes her chair back, standing up. “I’m leaving,” she announces. She grabs her laptop, and turns to walk away.
“Oh, come on, Elle,” he whines. “I was only kidding.”
She continues walking towards the door, and doesn’t turn around as she speaks. “I have to work on the blog. If you finish the mockups, send them to me.” She opens the door, steps out, and closes it behind her.
Anthony runs his hand over his face. “Man, I gotta stop doing that,” he grumbles.
“Doing what?”
“I just push her a little too far when I tease her sometimes.” His hands drop from his face and back to his computer. “It’s fine,” he reassures himself.
“Was she upset?” you ask. From what you could tell, nothing seemed to upset Elle. If anything, she always seemed like she couldn’t care less.
“She’ll be fine,” he says instead of answering your question. “Anyway, I have to work on the other pages of the website.”
The two of you work in silence together. You had never spent so much alone time with Anthony, but you can see why people would like him. He’s sweet and comforting and conversational.
You start your designs by drawing the skateboard, and quickly get sucked into your work. This happens often, as soon as you start drawing, it’s like you’re transported into another world.
You finish a few different skateboard and roller-skate designs, and look up to find Anthony with his head still buried in the computer. You bounce in your chair, waiting for him to look up at you, but when he doesn’t, you tap him yourself.
His head snaps to you and he smiles. “Yes?”
“Wanna see what I finished?” You smile proudly. Every time you finish a new design, you can’t help but be excited.
“Of course, Cora. Show me what you got.” He rolls his chair closer to yours to look at your tablet with you.
You hold your tablet in your hands, tilting it towards him. You start with the first skateboard drawing. “Okay, so I have four different skateboards and three different roller-skates to choose from. Tell me your favorite.”
You slide through each skateboard drawing, and Anthony “ooo’s” and “awe’s” at each one. You can’t tell which he likes the most because he is just as excited by every drawing you show him. The same thing happens when you go over the roller-skate drawings.
“These are all so good, Cora. I cannot believe how good you are at this,” he gushes when you finish.
You laugh. “They’re only mockups. They should be even better when I finish the real thing.”
“You should show Elle,” he tells you. “She could probably give you better advice than I can. She always knows how to personalize these projects for our clients better than anyone else.”
You admire how he speaks about her. You honestly can’t blame him. Despite Elle being cold towards you, you still had a lot of respect for her. She was obviously extremely talented, not just at her job, but at everything. She could step over into your field and know exactly what you needed to do or change to make the project perfect.
“Yeah,” you agree as you stand up. “I’ll go do that now.”
“Actually,” he stops you, placing his hand over yours as he pushes his seat back and stands as well. “I have to go discuss something with Mr. Cooper, so I can tell Elle to come in here.”
You nod your head in agreement, sitting back down.  
It’s only a few minutes before Elle walks in, closing the door behind her. She takes a seat next to you, but doesn’t say anything.
“Okay, so I haven’t finished all the mockups yet, but I was hoping you could tell me which you like most so I can try to mimic that style throughout the rest of the designs,” you explain.
“Alright,” she says simply.
You pause for a moment, waiting for her to say more. When she doesn’t, you tentatively pick up your tablet to swipe through the designs. She hums softly at each one, but doesn’t offer her opinion. You almost miss her insults. Her harsh critiques on the first project were what pushed you to create such good designs.
Slightly irritated, you sigh, putting down your tablet. “Are you gonna say anything?”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “What?”
“You always have something to say and now, when I’m actually asking for your critiques, you don’t want to say anything,” annoyance lines your voice.  
“Yeah because you’ll throw a fit if I do,” she bites back.
Confusion crosses your features. “What?”
She rolls her eyes. “Play dumb, whatever,” her arms cross over her chest.
“I’m not playing dumb-“
“Oh that’s right, you were just born that way.” She leans back in her chair, chin tilted upwards so she can look down on you.
You want to respond with an insult to match, but manage to contain yourself. “Look, I don’t ‘throw fits’ or whatever you think. Can you just be your usual bitchy self and critique my designs?”
She glares down at you for a second, eyes drifting around your face, assessing you. She sighs. “Fine. Show me again.”
You start at the beginning, with the first skateboard drawing.
“This is too similar to their original look. We need to put our own twist on it,” her tone is bitchy, but you find comfort in it. She sounds like herself.
You swipe to the next design.
When you see your work in front of her, it’s much easier for you to pick apart. It’s like you know exactly what she will and won’t like.
“Are you showing me the same drawing twice? What’s even different about this one?” Her nose scrunches with her questions.
“The wheels are different,” you defend yourself.
She looks at you flatly. She doesn’t even have to say anything for you to know to move on. You swipe to the next image.
“Okay…” she says hesitantly. “I can see the vision more with this one. It is a bit softer, but almost too much now. This style might work with the other drawings though. I just think the skateboard should be a little less soft than the rest of them.”
A smile graces your lips but you do your best to shield it from her. “Okay, I think you might like this one then,” you swipe to the next image.
“Yes, exactly,” she says excitedly. She quickly covers it up with a snarky remark, “you should’ve just shown me that one first. Could’ve saved me some time.”
You roll your eyes. “Anyway, now the roller-skate drawings.”
You swipe to the first one and as soon as you see it, immediately brace yourself for her critiques. You can already tell she is not going to like this one.
“Is this an ad for a preschool? Why does it look so childish?” They’re rhetorical questions. The cadence in her voice always reflects how she feels. 
You sigh. “I know, fuck, ignore this one,” you lift your finger to swipe to the next drawing.
“Wait,” she stops you. “Why did you draw it this way?” Her tone is softer this time.
Your finger taps the back of your tablet while you contemplate your answer. “I’m not sure,” you admit. “I just thought about all the new customers they would want to bring in, and I figured some would be children, so I think I just drew this one more childlike subconsciously.”
She hums as she takes in your words.
“It looks stupid, I know,” you quickly add.
“No, no,” her eyes stay focused on the drawing. “It just gives me an idea for something else. Can you send this to me separately?” Her eyes meet yours when she asks.
She looks almost sweet this way. Her entire face is relaxed- she doesn’t seem like she’s on the defense for once. Her head tilts slightly to the left, her eyes stare at yours expectantly.
Too caught up in the details of her, you nearly forget she’s asked you a question.
“Oh- yes- yeah I can send this to you.” You curse yourself in your head.
“Thanks,” her eyes continue watching you. Her head straightens back up, one side of her mouth lifts into a smirk. “You can swipe to the next one now,” she encourages you, eyes flicking from yours to the tablet and back.
You break your stare from hers and shake your head. “Right.” You swipe to the next design.
“I like this one. It matches the skateboard we agreed on, but it’s a little softer. I think you should make the colors on this lighter than the skateboard when you do the real piece.”
You appreciate the advice she offers. Truthfully, it saves you time in the long run.
You show her the last drawing as well, but you both agree the second one is best. 
You have a smile on your face by the end of your conversation. Of course, she was her usual bitchy self with her subtle insults and attitude, but she was much nicer this time. She had patience and advice and compliments, and you actually felt like you were able to connect with her in some way.
In moments like this, you understand why everyone seems to like her so much. She’s too easy to connect with, even when she’s being a pain.
Her fingers fiddle with the sleeve of her shirt, rubbing the material between them. “Do you think you can finish the other designs in the same style?”
“Of course. I’m the one who drew it,” you tease.
She scoffs in disbelief. “And you call me a smartass.” She pushes the chair back and stands to leave.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” the words were out of your mouth before you realized you were speaking them. You weren’t sure why you were saying this, you just wanted her to know she had the option to stay.
“What?” She’s taken aback more than anything.
“I just mean- I know we’re working on this project together. You can work in here with us if you want to,” you offer. 
“I have to focus on my writing. I can’t have distractions.”
“I’ll be quiet. I’m quiet when I draw, anyway,” you throw out quickly.
One side of her mouth lifts slightly. “All my stuff is at my desk,” her voice drawls out, like she’s contemplating staying in the room.
“Just bring it in here,” you offer yet another solution to the problems keeping her out of the conference room. “Do you want me to get your stuff? I have to go check on Anthony anyway,” the lie slips through your teeth easily.
The side of her mouth lifts higher, but she sits. “Alright, if you’re going there anyway,” she agrees.
You scramble out of the conference room. What is wrong with you? There was no reason for you to act this way or offer to get her stuff. You’re sure you look like an idiot desperate for her approval.
Truth is, you wanted to keep this moment going. It’s not often you feel like you have a connection with Elle- not one deeper than annoyance, anyway. If you had the opportunity to keep her in this room longer, it was hard not to take it.
You grab her laptop from her desk and scan to see if there’s anything else you should grab for her.
Her desk is relatively empty. It’s neat and organized, with only a few pictures displayed to personalize it. You assume the main picture is of her and her family. There’s two smaller polaroids tucked into the frame: one of the group of friends in the office and one of her and some girl you don’t recognize.
It takes everything in you not to go through her desk in search of a deeper understanding of her as a person. Despite your curiosity, you manage to grab her laptop and walk away.
You stop by Mr. Cooper’s office to check in on Anthony, but you can see them still in conversation through the window, so you walk back into the conference room with Elle’s laptop and no Anthony.
She’s sitting, leaned back in her chair while it bends to accommodate her posture. One leg crosses over the other at the knee, her foot in the air kicking slightly. Her elbow is kicked back over the top of the chair, exuding confidence from head to toe. Her eyes drift over your frame when you walk in, from your shoes, to her laptop in your hands, to your eyes.
Your feet carry you closer to her. She snickers when you stumble as you get to your chair. You ignore her.
“So where’s Anthony?” she asks.
You place her laptop in front of her. “Still talking with Mr. Cooper. I didn’t want to interrupt them.”
Her eyebrows raise and her jaw drops open. “Oh, you do have a brain,” she exclaims in faux-surprise.
Your face falls flat. “I do you a favor and you return it with an insult?”
Her elbow pushes off the back of the chair, now sitting upright. “Actually, I think you’re doing yourself a favor,” the smugness in her tone sends waves of irritation up your spine.
“How am I doing me a favor?”
As soon as the question leaves your lips, you know you messed up. If you know the answer to the question, you’re sure she does, too. A blush coats your cheeks, embarrassment floods your system.
The next words leave her lips like fact, giving no room to argue, “you like me.”
You scoff, despite the deepening redness of your cheeks. “Yeah, right.”
Her lips curl. “You’re blushing.”
On instinct, your head turns away from her slightly, an attempt to shield the heat from her. “I am not. Fuck off,” you mutter.
“It’s cute,” she laughs.
“I don’t like you,” you insist. “You’re just not being a complete pain in my ass for once.”
“You can admit it,” she persists.
“I don’t-“
“Everyone likes me, Cora. It’s okay,” she coos. She’s taunting you.
“I thought you had work to do,” you change the subject instead.
She smiles like she knows she won. She opens her laptop and, for the first time since you’ve walked back into the conference room, lets her eyes leave you.
“Finish those mockups for me, won’t you?”
You don’t dignify her mockery with a response. Instead, you turn from her and start working on the last few mockups you need to finish.
It’s about an hour of working in silence- well, silence aside from Elle’s constant tapping on her keyboard- when Anthony walks back in.
“Wow,” he sings, “look at the two of you working together.”
You look up from your tablet at the sound of his voice. Elle’s sigh draws your eyes to her, the blank stare on her face aimed at Anthony.
“We were working until you so rudely interrupted us.”
He saunters over, arms swaying with each step, stopping at Elle’s chair and leaning overtop of her. He scans the contents on her laptop, wrapping one arm around her collarbones as he reads.
“You’re nearly done with the blog,” he observes. His arm unwraps from her as he plops himself down in the chair next to hers.
“Like I said, we were working- as in actually getting work done,” it’s like she can’t help the attitude seeping from her lips, but her tone is playful.
He pouts his lips at her. “Are you still mad at me?”
“Yes.”
He rolls his chair closer to her, grabbing the arm so he can maneuver it to make her face him. “How can I make it better?”
Her arms are crossed over her chest. She sighs, eyes looking up towards the ceiling and lip tapping against her chin in faux-thought. “You can buy me a coffee.”
He scrambles from his chair, muttering a quick “deal,” before nearly sprinting out of the room.
You laugh in disbelief. Her chair swivels to turn to you. She tosses her feet onto the table and crosses one over the other at her ankles. Her arms are still crossed, leaning back against the chair, a proud smile painted on her face.
“What?” she asks, as though she doesn’t already know.
“Do you always have people waiting on you hand-and-foot?” You’ve started to understand which jabs dig further under her skin. You figure it’s only fair considering how often she gets under yours.
Though, her smile doesn’t drop. “I do, actually. Are you looking to fetch me something else?”
Your initial jab seems to have backfired. “I’m not playing your games.”
She pushes her lips into a mocking pout. “You did earlier,” she argues. “Fetching my laptop like a good girl,” her cadence is though she were speaking to a dog. 
“You’re an ass,” is what you settle on. Still, your cheeks are burning red.
“Oh my god,” she laughs, “you like that.”
“I do not,” you argue, but your body betrays your words.
“You so do!” She accuses, laughter still heavy in her chest.
Your nails pinch into the fleshy part of your palm, a feeble attempt to control your irritation. You roll your eyes and shake your head, picking up your stylus to continue drawing in an attempt to ignore her.
She doesn’t stop. “Oh, don’t get all quiet on me now.” She drops her feet from the desk to lean closer to you, elbows on her knees. “Come on, Cora, be good and look at me.”
You open your mouth to tell her off, but the door swings open to reveal Anthony with a coffee in his hand and a proud smile on his face.
He stops in front of her. “Am I forgiven?” He bends over, head down and hands holding the coffee out in front of him.
Elle takes it from his hands, has a small sip, and smiles contently, before responding with a simple, “yes.” 
Anthony cheers, head lifting back up. When his eyes meet your face, concern crosses his face. “Are you okay, Cora?”
Before you have the chance to answer, Elle responds. “Oh, she’s ­very good, aren’t you, Cora?”
You should hit her- dump her coffee all over her stupid head- but you’re almost certain that would get you fired in a second. Instead, your nails bite further into your palms and you force yourself to take a deep breath.
Through gritted teeth, you speak, “yeah, just great.”
The three of you work in silence for a bit, until Mr. Cooper calls Elle into his office. She skips there, face relaxed and light on her feet.
“She’s in a good mood now, huh?” Anthony observes.
“Must be the coffee,” you mutter.
Although you know Elle was only teasing you earlier, the words remain echoing in your head, redness seeping into your skin when you think a little too hard about her voice uttering those words.
He laughs at your words. “I better start bringing her coffee every day.”
It’s now when your curiosity has truly gotten the better of you. You don’t want to ask him directly about his relationship with Elle, but you have to know if they’re together. You’ve held your tongue for long enough, you’re sure of it.
“You’d be quite the boyfriend for that,” is what you settle on.
Anthony laughs. Hard. Doubled over in his chair, the sound echoing across the walls. He collects himself for a second, but as soon as he looks at you and begins to speak, the laughter starts again.
Your eyebrows crease together, lips pushed into a frown. What was so funny?
“Do you think-“ a laugh to interrupt himself, “Do you think Elle and I are dating?”
“Are you not?”
He laughs again then, like it was the most absurd thing for you to think. “Absolutely not. Elle’s like my sister. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the girl, but it would never work between us,” he emphasizes the word.
You don’t understand how it could never work between them. Anthony is handsome. Elle is beautiful. They both have faces made for movie screens. They have faces that are supposed to be romantically paired.
“Why not?”
He contemplates his words. “Well, aside from the fact that we’re practically siblings, Elle doesn’t even like men.”
The revelation echoes in your head for the rest of the day. From when Elle walks back into the conference room, to when Mr. Cooper tells everyone to go home, on the train ride back to your apartment, till now, sitting in bed alone.
It shouldn’t affect you. It shouldn’t even matter- it doesn’t matter, you tell yourself.
Elle liking women doesn’t mean she could like you. You don’t even want her to like you. You don’t like Elle, so why would it matter if she liked women? It didn’t. Elle liking women was stupid, pointless information that was about as interesting as watching paint dry.
But you were an artist. You appreciated all forms of art, and you loved watching art form.
You loved watching paint dry. 
11 notes · View notes
Note
Do you like tid secondary couples? And if so who is your favourite?
As someone who has read TID all the way through nearly ten times now, I’m pretty solid on all my opinions regarding secondary ships in the series. I’ll go through the following:
Henry X Charlotte
Gideon X Sophie
Gabriel X Cecily
Jessamine X Nate… lol jk
To answer your first question generally, YES, I do love and adore all three of the secondary couples, though I’ll go more in-depth just for fun.
To start with… Henry and Charlotte! Alright, these two are EXTREMELY adorable and I love them with all my being. I’ll answer your second question now: these two have to be my favorite secondary TID ship. Their arc together is so wholesome, going from unsure if the other loves them, to realizing that they do indeed love each other and have always loved each other, to working through a pregnancy… my gosh, I could gush about these two for hours. Though Henry and Charlotte are well-loved by the fandom for how genuine and wholesome their connection is, I do think their relationship arc is extremely underrated and dismissed. The “marriage of convenience” trope suddenly turning around and having been about love the entire time not only makes them an amazing couple in literature but also connects to the TID theme of hidden love. Love these two ❤️
Next, I’ll talk about Gideon and Sophie. I’ll be honest, I can’t rant much about these two. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE them and their relationship, but there isn’t much to talk about. They’re amazingly wonderful together, and their little side plot of Sophie being a servant and Gideon being a shadowhunter was intriguing, and I remember wondering what would happen between them when I first read TID six years ago. The scone scene is nothing short of iconic, and the love between them is genuinely beautiful. These two are simple but great!
Then there’s Gabriel and Cecily! I’m going to be honest, the first few times I read TID, I was a bit weirded out by this pairing. I couldn’t quite understand the reasoning behind Cassie matching them up besides a convenient “everyone falls in love with everyone at the end” trope that TID seems to have. The fact that he was 18 when she was 15 also creeped me out, and it wasn’t like I was that fond of Gabriel as a character in the first place. But I believe as I started growing older, and especially after I read TLH for the first time, I could find something to love about these two. Their interactions are quite silly and entertaining in Clockwork Princess, and Gabriel as a character has really warmed up to me, too, which subsequently helped this couple warm up to me. I think the hilarious impossibility of these two being together is what makes me appreciate them the most, more than anything- I mean, who would have thought Gabriel would end up marrying Will’s sister… after Will constantly taunted Gabriel about Tatiana? I think it’s funny as hell.
8 notes · View notes
Text
Lo-Fi: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
Tumblr media
"The man visited by ecstasies and visions, who takes dreams for realities is an enthusiast; the man who supports his madness with murder is a fanatic." - Voltaire
Once again, insomnia has taken over yours and Spencer's life. In order to pass the time, you and Spencer have set up the apartment to resemble that of a mini-golf course. You had those plastic golf clubs that you and Spencer got at a toy store one time, so you use those as putters while you use ping pong balls as your golf ball.
Spencer isn't good at golf, but it's very funny to see him try to play. You're not good either, but it's fun to play with an equally bad person. This is what you meant when you said you love living with Spencer--you neve know what kind of evening you'll have with him.
Late at night, ideas ran high, and it was either play mini golf or bowling, and you feel this is the better choice if you don't want to break anything.
"Okay, you need to make at least one shot before the sun comes up," you giggle.
Spencer readies his putter with a focused look on his face.
"I don't need to hear it. You've barely gotten one in."
"And that's one more than you. You're falling behind," you tease.
"I can do this."
"I'll tell you what, if you make this shot in, I'll give you a kiss. If you make this shot in two moves, I'll give you a kiss with tongue. If you make it in one shot, I'll take you to bed," you grin.
He makes it in two.
You pull him closer by his waist and plant your lips on his, kissing him slowly and tenderly. His lips are always so soft despite him constantly biting them. He forgets all about the game as your tongue slithers into his mouth, but the night isn't over yet.
You two play all night long, and by the time you need to get ready for work, it's three to two. All night long, and you've managed to score three points. You're tired, but you'd trade sleep if you get to have another night like that with Spencer again.
Spencer stays by his desk when you two get to work, and you practically skip to JJ's office. Ever since you found out she is pregnant, you've been trying to take care of her, and to give her whatever she needs.
"Hey, it's just me," you knock and enter. You close the door behind you so you can talk freely about her pregnancy. "How is the baby? How are you doing?"
You sit down at her desk and lean back to be more comfortable.
"We're both doing great. I just got off the phone with Will. He's coming down here to help pick out a crib. Will's thrilled about it."
"I'm so happy for you," you gush. "We better set aside a weekend to go shopping for those little baby clothes that are just so cute."
"I look forward to it."
"You better. I'm going to make a great aunt."
"An aunt, huh?" she chuckles.
"You bet your ass. If not godparent title, then definitely aunt title. I'm going to spoil that kid rotten. No one knows, right?"
"No, it's still early. I'm going to wait a bit before telling everyone."
"Okay," you shrug.
Hotch knocks on the door, and you know to shut up about this.
"JJ, can you get the team together? We have a case."
"Nothing's come across my desk."
"This one came directly to me."
Hotch looks serious about this, so that means the baby talk will have to be on the back burner for now. You and JJ gather the team to find Hotch inside the briefing room watching a CCTV video of a man getting shot in the back of his head.
"Don't get comfortable. There'll be time to debrief on the plane."
"Where are we going?" Spencer asks.
"New York."
"Five shootings in two weeks. It's about time we got the call," Rossi comments.
"I want to take Garcia with us. Hopefully, they'll give us access to their surveillance systems. We really don't have time to talk. Let's get going."
This must be serious if Hotch doesn't at least give you a clue as to what is going on here. Everyone, including Penelope, head to the jet. She rarely gets to fly in this thing, so she's mesmerized about it all.
"How come I only get to travel with you guys like once every two years?"
"Trust me, mama, it can get old," Derek chuckles and takes her carry on to put in the top compartment.
"Oh, right, like the way that spa treatments in five-star hotels can get old."
"Remember the time we got on board, and they hadn't chilled the rosé?" you smirk.
"I almost quit the BAU that day," Derek plays along.
"Okay, you know what? You guys can joke all you want because I am never leaving this plane."
Once everyone is settled in, the serious stuff takes over.
"What do we know?" you ask.
"All the killings are mid-day with a single gunshot to the head with a .22."
"Any witnesses?"
"No."
"A .22-caliber pistol is only one hundred and fifty-two decibels. New York streets and subways are routinely well over one hundred. It could be people aren't even registering the gunshot until the unsub is already leaving the scene."
"They sound like Mob hits," Derek guesses.
"Except none of them have ties to organized crime. None of them have any connection with each other, either."
"How about communication with the police? Has the unsub tried to make contact?" you ask.
"Surveillance cameras have captured videos of three of the murders. This is the latest."
It's grainy, but the unsub walks behind a person and shoots him in the back of the head before walking off as if nothing happened. It's as if he just passed him by without a thought. It's so grainy, you can't get a clear view on who the unsub is.
"That's the best video they can get?"
"They're all the same. He wears a hood and keeps his head down."
"You know, there are videos on Youtube with better quality than this. You'd think New York would invest in better cameras," you comment. "This guy's bold. He works in crowded areas and in broad daylight."
"Are they completely random?"
"It seems that way."
"It's the Son of Sam all over again," Spencer sighs.
"What do we know about the victims?"
"They were each killed in a completely different neighborhood. Hell's Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown, and East Harlem."
"This doesn't make any sense. There's no common victimology, no sexual component, no robbery, and no geographical connection. Do the police have any leads?"
"No. He kills roughly every two days. The press is having a field day, and it sounds like the mood on the street's getting pretty edgy. We're working closely with the NYPD and their task force about this. Kate Joyner heads up the New York field office. She's running point on the case, and called me directly. Kate is starting to butt heads with the lead detectives and wants a fresh set of eyes."
"Kate Joyner, I know her. She's British, right?" Derek asks.
"Well, dual citizenship. Her father's British and her mother's American. She was a big deal at Scotland Yard before coming to the bureau."
"I heard she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass," you chuckle.
"I didn't think so," Hotch shrugs. "We liaised when she was still at Scotland Yard. I think we're lucky to have her."
It takes an hour to get from Quantico to New York City where the NYPD is waiting for your arrival. You walk into the FBI building located in New York, and immediately feel the tension between coworkers. Kate sees the team enter, and she greets Hotch with a wide smile.
"Is it just me, or does she look exactly like Hayley?" you mutter to your team.
She does resemble Hotch's ex-wife, and it makes you wonder if Hotch sees in her what he saw in Hayley.
"Kate," Hotch smiles. "This is my team. Kate Joyner, This is David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Y/N, and Spencer Reid."
"Thanks for being here. Anything that you need, just tell me. Please don't stand on protocol," she says in her posh British accent.
"What can you tell us about the city's surveillance system?" Penelope asks.
"It's run by the NYPD. It's still in the infant stages. It's been rather controversial. American privacy laws, but they've had some success."
"I'll have complete access?"
"Of course. They're already expecting you. Shelly?"
One of the officers escorts Penelope into the bat cave where all the surveillance cameras are located.
"I'd like to get a map of the borough. I want to do a comprehensive geographical profile of the area in order to ascertain the unsub's mental map before it's clouded by our own linkage blindness," Spencer says.
"I see you brought your own computer."
Next to Spencer are two detectives who decide to join in on the conversation. One is short, a bit overweight, and has blond hair. He isn't too happy with Kate--you can feel the resentment he has towards her. The taller one is more slim, has a full head of brown hair, and is just happy that there are more people working on this. Still, he seems tired.
"Detectives Brustin and Cooper. I'll let you do the introductions," Kate says.
The shorter one is Brustin and the taller one is Cooper."
"Did you catch the first shooting?" you ask.
"They've all been in different precincts. It wasn't until the third murder that anyone even made the connection," Cooper answers.
"I guess this is where we play nice and ask you what you need," Brustin grumbles.
"I'll let you all figure out what that is. I just ask that you run everything back through me. It's been my experience that having one butt on the line is enough."
"Yes, ma'am," Brustin says passive-aggressively.
"Can I have a word with you in private?" Kate asks Hotch, leading him away from the group and into her office.
"They liaised when she was at Scotland Yard," you smirk and look at Penelope.
"Of course," JJ chuckles.
Cooper and Brustin break apart and do their own thing on opposite sides of the precinct, and you and Spencer approach Detective Cooper. Emily is standing nearby, and she seems interested in this little group.
"What's your partner's problem?" Spencer asks outright.
"Well, by the fourth murder, the FBI was brought in. Good. We can use all the help we can get. All of a sudden, she's taking meetings with the mayor, and calling in you all without us knowing anything about it."
"We're only here to help," you say. "Think of us as a resource."
"Okay, profile me," he smirks. "What am I thinking?"
Spencer raises his eyebrows and looks at you, and you can feel a twinge of jealousy come from him.
"Based solely on your energy and the confidence you radiate when you asked me to profile you, you're charming and arrogant even if you don't mean to be. The faint tan mark around your ring finger suggests you're married, yet you take it off when you get to work. That tells me that you like flirting with women, but you won't actually do anything because you love your wife.
"Now, Dr. Reid is my boyfriend, so there's no use in flirting with me. You might have more luck with Agent Prentiss. She's single. Did I do good?"
"Duly noted," Cooper nods and looks at Spencer.
He quickly leaves you two to talk to Emily, and you pull Spencer in close.
"I love you, you know that?"
"I do," you grin and peck his lips.
Tumblr media
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
35 notes · View notes
Note
Crunchy chip with an S/O that is amazing at cooking and makes sure he eats well!
we both know this one is malnourished as hell, so what if his S/O noticed and just.. started cooking for him, making a good meal out of any resources they can get, absolutely pampering him at any given chance too! Bonus would be if the small feral boy got a growth spurt because of the new and much better diet, going from being gremlin to being a bit taller than Caramel arrow (lets say that is around 6') +after he reaches his height limit, he is much taller than his S/O too, who used to be just a bit taller than him but.. now they look so s m o l- *throw the realistics out of the window for this one, we have dragons , DE and talking cookies in the fandom; plus, the idea of everyone being shocked at the growth spurt pretty funny, so-
FIRST CRUNCHY CHIP REQUEST !!!! mhm what a brilliant idea, i hope you enjoy <3
also once there’s better quality versions of his crunchy’s gacha sprite, i will update his banner (it isn’t looking too great rn)
Tumblr media
crunchy chip with a s/o who cooks really well <3
you were the only watcher who didn’t hail from the dark cacao kingdom. you were from the hollyberry kingdom !!
you moved to the dark cacao kingdom at a young age, so you didn’t remember much about your home.
the one thing you did remember though was their excellent cuisine. you were hardly a teenager, but your parents always asked you to help out with dinner, so you had many recipes under your belt.
one day, you were out on the great chocolate wall (is that what it’s called ? not sure), where you bumped into an acquaintance of yours, the captain of the cream wolves, crunchy chip cookie.
“ah, crunchy chip ! how are you ?” you asked. your sweet nature was unfamiliar to him, because of how serious everyone in the dark cacao kingdom is, but he brushed it off.
“i’m good, y/n- hungry- how are you- food-“ he replied, seemingly very hungry.
“oh are you hungry ?” you asked, “would you like to come to the kitchens with me ? i can see if i can make anything for you.”
“what- no i’m not hungry !!” protested crunchy chip.
“it’s very clear that you are hungry. come with me.” you said.
and so you led crunchy chip to the kitchens & managed to get him some bitter jellies, since there wasn’t much in there.
“woah, thank you y/n !” said crunchy chip, obviously very happy.
time passed and you & crunchy chip grew closer & closer, and you both realised that you had feelings for the other.
crunchy chip freaked out when he realised.
it took a while to calm himself down, and then he started to craft a ‘foolproof’ plan on how to confess to you.
about a week or two later, while you and crunchy chip were talking on top of the great chocolate wall, he asked you if he could tell you something.
you said yes of course, and his ‘foolproof’ plan went to shit.
“soiactuallyreallylikeyouandiwaswonderingwouldyoulike-“ he gushed.
“could you slow down ? i can’t make out what you’re saying.” you asked.
“oh ! i’m sorry y/n !!” he almost yelled. you gave a confused look.
“so, uh- i… really like you & i was wondering if you would like to be my partner ???” crunchy chip said, looking away in embarrassment.
“crunchy chip,” you started, “i would love nothing more.”
so yeah you two are dating now. woohoo !!
you eventually moved in together in a cabin located in one of the wooded areas near the citadel, and you made a special hollyberrian meal for you and your boyfriend to celebrate your new home.
^^it was also accompanied by the best berry juice you could get a hold of.
it had many different flavours in it, and wasn’t bitter at all. you often ate it growing up, so why not make it now ?
unfortunately for crunchy chip, it had some spice in it.
he had never had spice in his entire life beforehand, so he acted like his tongue had been set on fire !
he immediately rushed to get some water & chugged.
but, as we all know, water isn’t good for getting rid of spice.
you had to get him some milk 😭
after dinner, you were sat together, and crunchy chip told you what he thought of the dinner.
“y/n, that was so good !! i know i made a big scene with the spice, but could make it again some time ?? please ??” he asked, staring at you with big puppy dog eyes.
“yes,” you replied, “of course !! i’m glad you liked it.”
over the next few months, crunchy chip had more & more of your cooking. finally he actually got the nutrition he needed, and he fucking grew. this bitch went from 4’11 to 6ft in a matter of months !!
he rocked up to training with caramel arrow one day after he had a overnight growth spurt from 5’7 to 6ft (realistics ? don’t know her…) and she was shocked. how’d he get so tall ????
you & her were talking one day and she asked you about it.
“you used to be far taller than crunchy chip, y/n. how ?”
“oh, just my cooking !!” you explained.
“your… cooking ?”
“oh, i’ve started getting ingredients from my homeland, the hollyberry kingdom.”
caramel started having dinner with you & your boyfriend from then on.
i hope you liked this !! <3
290 notes · View notes
bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 months
Text
The Tangled Place (Part 1/Preview Chapter)
Prompt(s): Whumptober Day 8 “it’s all for nothing” 
Summary: Zuko tries to prove his strength by summoning a spirit to slay. What he gets instead is a demon that takes the form of a Fire Sage who has taken quite a shine to Azula.
Notes: remember that self-indulgent fic I mentioned a week or so back? It’s late but it is now here; decided that it would fit better with spooky season. It's an Avatar/Conjuring Franchise crossover. Could possibly become a longer fic.
And when all is said and done it is all for nothing. He doesn’t feel stronger or cooler. Father still doesn’t love him. In fact he hates him more than ever.
He had played a stupid game and everyone is paying the price for it. Ozai’s is grief, Mai and TyLee’s is regret, Katara’s and Aang’s is disappointment, Azula’s is…he swallows hard. His own price is a mark on his chest–a big black blight that reminds him of what he has done and that his price hasn’t been fully paid. 
He can feel it inside of him.
The blight will only get bigger.
He sees it everywhere now. 
This Thing from some world far removed.
This Thing that is neither human nor spirit.
It is in the mirrors, in every darkened corner, at the shadowed backs of cupboards left ajar.
It is entirely his fault. 
He has lost the ability to sort out what is real from what is false.
Sometimes when he gazes into those dark places, it isn’t the Thing that he sees. Sometimes it is Azula’s face all twisted in agony a blackness much deeper than the shadows that surround her spews from between her discolored lips.
Sometimes he sees her in the corner, her arms stiff and twitching, her back contorted painfully. He knows that it is painful because her mouth is fixed into a silent, gushing scream. 
But it is her eyes….they aren’t right. They aren’t hers. He has seen malice and hatred in them before. He had thought that he had seen evil in them when they were younger. He knows now that he hadn’t seen evil at all–not in its most authentic, simmering form. Because he has looked her right in the eyes many times before and has never seen this.
Three months earlier
The place is overgrown. So much so that the path can no longer be called such. Stones have long since been cracked and dislodged by trekking feet and harsh weather. From the cracks grow tall grasses and creeping ivies. Invasive plants crawl down the throats of old stone fountains and into the tubes of wind chimes with choked voices and water pumps. Vines choke lopsided stone pedestal lanterns that have long since lost their light. 
The writing etched into these lanterns has been eroded beyond reading and in places where the etchings are clear the fuzz of moss has grown to obscure it. 
The trees have been overtaken by hanging moss and lichen that droops down as if melting off of the branches. A great many things hang in the trees, mingling with the natural overhang of vines; paper talismans mostly, tattered and faded paper lanterns, beaded ropes, dented brass incense burners, and collections of miscellaneous trinkets made of feather, sage, straw, white ash, and egg shells among other things. 
Zuko ducks under a tangle of what could be bird and mink bones. He does his best not to touch anything but the trinkets and talismans seem to outnumber the vines and hanging mosses. Something about that makes him queasy.
“This place is so, so…” TyLee wraps her arms around herself and shivers in spite of the muggy, humid air. 
“It smells rank.” Mai bunches up her nose. A scent that is stirred awake and amplified when Azula’s foot disturbs one of several mushy puddles. “How did you even find this place?”
Azula shrugs. “Things have been so dull lately.” She says as though that answers the question. 
But he can put two and two together. Azula had always loved exploring every nook, cranny, and secret annex in the palace. It was only a matter of time before she ran out of those and started to branch out. He just hadn’t realized just how far she would manage to do so. 
There is something charming about it–one facet of Azula’s softer side, the side that she has only just started displaying more openly and more often. She has an almost childlike curiosity about her that juxtaposes most other aspects of her–all of those parts that have grown up far too soon.
She makes her way around a particularly large sculpted boulder and comes to a halt before the dilapidated entrance of a shrine. She stands before it with her hands on her hips, watching a curtain of  paper talismans swish in the breeze. It isn’t just a curtain, he decides, it is a wall. A wall of paper with elegant calligraphy. He shudders.
For a place so teeming with unrestrained nature, Zuko had imagined that there would be sound all around. The beating of wings, the guttural crooning of toad-squirrels, the rattle of branches and a stirring of leaves as tiger-monkeys maneuver about.
But the place is quiet.
Quiet save for a distant chime.
“Should we be here?” TyLee frowns.
“Why shouldn’t we be?” Azula asks. “I’ve come here many times and haven’t had an issue.”
“You don’t think that this place is just a little…off?” Mai asks. 
“Completely creepy, you mean?” TyLee edges closer to her. 
Azula shrugs again. “It suits me just fine.” 
“Okay.” Zuko grumbles. “You can be intimidating but you aren’t anything like this.” 
She tilts her head and furrows her brows. Parts her lips as if to say something. This is another facet of her softer side–that part of her that truly believes that she is malevolent…a monster through and through. The part of her that seems to hiccup and sputter when someone implies that she is actually not so bad. 
Mai chuckles. “Look, if you feel like this place is a kindred spirit, we’ll leave you to it.”
“You wouldn’t be able to stop me if you tried.” Azula waves her hand dismissively. “At any rate, this is the place that I’ve found and I quite like it.” 
“But why?” Zuko scans the place, hoping to see whatever good she sees in it.
“It’s intriguing!” She declares. He is still getting used to seeing her more bombastic hand gestures and expressive speech. “It’s so…so…” She hums. “Charged. It has its own energy.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” Mai confesses. 
TyLee nods. “It has a weird aura.” 
“That doesn’t mean that it has a bad aura. Weird and sinister are two different things.”
“Okay, but it definitely has a sinister aura too.” Zuko counters. 
Azula props herself up against the boulder. “I don’t think so. I think that it’s rather peaceful. It’s no different than any other shrine–just don’t be disrespectful. Leave an offering–” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small pouch of crystals, herbs, and gold coins. “Don’t steal offerings that have been left. Don’t break anything…” she trails off. 
“Fair enough.” Mai agrees. 
He isn’t surprised in the slightest that she is starting to warm up to the place. She has her own ripple of eerie vibes that cling heavily to her. 
Azula smiles, cheered to have swayed someone to her side. 
“So are we going in there?” TyLee asks with a gesture to the shrine. 
Azula shakes her head. “I don’t think that we’re supposed to touch the talismans. I usually leave my offerings on the stairs.”
“So why bring us all the way out here?”
Azula rolls her eyes. “Have a sense of adventure, Zuzu! Haven’t you ever explored something just for the sake of seeing it? Enjoy the view.” 
The sentiment is still so strange coming from her. From the girl who had always done things with a clear sense of purpose. Who had never taken a single step without having an end goal, an idea of where that step would lead. He thinks that there must be a newfound sense of appreciation for the world around her, for just living after having been sealed away from it for so long.
His stomach flutters, sometimes he thinks that he dwells upon her confinement more than she does. And maybe that’s a good thing. She has been through a lot and he is happy that she is doing well again. That they are doing well again.
That his family is slowly but surely, changing for the better. Ozai has a long way to go, but he listens to Azula. He indulges her when she proposes ideas to him. Zuko is certain that he just needs to give her time and she’ll be able to get their father to come around. It’ll give him time to decide how he feels and how much he wants to forgive, if anything at all. It might be a matter of acknowledging that some things are unforgivable, choosing to coexist, and moving from there. He thinks that forgiving Azula is plenty enough. 
It is more worthwhile than forgiving their father will ever be; for all of those hard edges and cold aspects of her she has a sense of loyalty, a protectiveness. She can be impossible to get along with but she has a good heart. A guarded and distant one but he has learned to work with that. And she has learned to work with him. 
“There’s a nice clearing just over that bridge, we can have lunch there. Or, if you’re feeling more formal, there’s a teahouse.”
“Does the teahouse look like it is going to cave in if the wind gusts the wrong way?” Mai asks. 
Azula shakes her head. “It’s actually quite new. I’m not sure if it is actually part of the shrine.” She taps her pointer against her chin. “Come on, Zuzu, you’re falling behind.”
He hadn’t even realized. 
He finds that he falls behind a lot.
These days she waits for him to catch up.
14 notes · View notes
Text
early20sfailingplenty's 1k follower celebration❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Aaaaa, we did itttttt ~ !!!!! 💜💜💜💜💜
It's been... a wild ride since I started this blog 21/9/2021, huh? I was starting the second year of my degree at the same time as starting a new job and it was... A Time Of My Life, for sure. But now look! There's 1k of you and that's just phenomenal.
So many of you have been nothing but lovely; sending in asks or encouragement, support, advice, love, making me drop my uwus so many times there's almost no point in picking them up because just as soon as I do, one of you makes me drop them again.
Writing for the Sinclairs is always a blast as well, and I adore delving into their psyches and working them out. My characterisation isn't always perfect but most of what I write is well received, the friendships I've made are gonna be long lasting, and all of this accounts to so much of my happiness and sense of peace.
The Sinclairs have made me bolder, braver, and though Vincent is the one I fell in love with first, I love and cherish each of the brothers equally. You can't have one without the other two, at least in my opinion (which may not be yours and that's okay), and I wouldn't want them like that, anyway. For me, the Sinclairs are the Sinclairs because they've spent their lives together and none of them would be alive without the other two to make it that way. It's horrific, tragic, grotesque, and they're objectively fucking terrible people, but we love them and that's really important.
So, as a thank you to all of you, old-time followers and new followers and people who might hit follow because of this post, I have devised a combination of ways to celebrate this milestone.
The details are below the cut, as are the rules for this celebration and my masterlists.
THIS IS A HOUSE OF WAX AND SINCLAIR ONLY EVENT!
A handwritten note of appreciation from me to you in your two favourite colours (if you don't specify, I'll choose two of my favourite colours, instead).
A handwritten note of appreciation from me to you in your two favourite colours (if you don't specify, I'll choose two of my favourite colours, instead).
A handwritten note of appreciation from me to you in your two favourite colours (if you don't specify, I'll choose two of my favourite colours, instead).
Send me a link to a House of Wax tumblr fic and I'll reblog it with some uwu-dropping commentary (great for people who want more exposure! The writer of the fic MUST be 18+)
Send a GIF of a Sinclair and I'll write a short headcanon paragraph inspired by the GIF.
Blog shoutouts! Again, the blog owner MUST be 18+!
A note from a Sinclair of your choosing (or all three, but if you do choose all three then it'll take longer for me to post because it's three notes rather than just one and that requires more brain juice).
Send me a few sentences about you and I'll write a short headcanon paragraph about you and a Sinclair (you MUST be 18+ for this AND you must tell me which Sinclair you would prefer. Again, all three is an option but it'll take me longer).
Ask for a moodboard - give me a few words, name a Sinclair, and I'll see what I can do!
Ask me questions about myself! Anything burning you want to ask me? Obviously, no personal information will be given and such questions will be deleted (and anything extremely invasive will likely get you blocked), but questions about my favourite characters, medias, my habits, likes, dislikes, philosophies yada yada are all acceptable!
Want to vent? Want to give me some advice or do you want to ask for some advice? Want to tell me how you feel about me? Feel free to come and scream at the void. Be polite, be kind, and if you wouldn't say it to someone face to face, then don't click the send button! Rudeness will mean you get publicly clowned on, outright offense will get you blocked, so be warned! I want this to be a safe space for EVERYONE. And speaking of...
Want to gush about your favourite Sinclair or all of them? Come into my inbox, let loose, go wild!!!!💜
What are the rules for this celebration?
Nothing major!
Be kind, be polite, anons are welcomed as are people off anon, please specify this is for the 1k celebration when sending in your asks, yada yada we're all adults here. Followers and non-followers welcomed, any pronouns, MUST BE 18+ TO PARTICIPATE OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
NOWHERE ON THIS POST DO I SAY THAT YOU CAN ONLY PICK ONE OPTION. GO AHEAD AND HAVE FUN, PICK WHATEVER YOU WANT! Just be aware that the more options you choose, the longer it’ll take me to fulfil what you’d like!💖
Please only use the ask box to participate in this celebration; anything sent through the comments or DMs will be ignored.
How long will this celebration go on for?
I'll run it for two weeks to the day from posting this, and then I will close the celebration. This is so everyone has a chance to get something in if they want to, and after the date has passed, I will no longer accept asks marked as being for the celebration. However, I will continue to answer asks submitted prior to the deadline, just so then everyone receives something. That seems fair to me, and I hope it does to you as well.
Finally, links to my masterlists!
Masterlist 1 || Masterlist 2 || Masterlist 3 || Masterlist 4 || Masterlist 5
Happy reading, and thank you immensely for the support!💜💜💜💜
74 notes · View notes
stormblessed95 · 2 years
Note
Hi Storm i hope you are doing great.
Well first of all English is not my first language so my writing may contain some mistakes 😅
* Well i really wanted to ask u abt the way taekookers claim that the harry styles concert was a valid confirmation that tkk are the real couple in bts and saying "How can anyone watch Harry styles concert and have any doubts about who the couple is"
And them keep on talking abt the way tkk were vibing and dancing together ( like the way V wrapped his arm around jk and jk held V's hand as they were singing "falling" ) and whatever they have done during that concert prove that tkk are real boyfriends ... However i think that was a normal thing that happens between any close friends . i mean isn't normal to be close to ur friends in concerts or party and so on.. Dancing together, holding their hands and wrapping your arm around them? bc honestly the way these people are making it as a big deal and consider it as a couple thing makes me wonder if they ever have friends or even know what friendship means cuz these category of ppl don't know probably how to distinguish btwn friendship behavior and couple behavior.
So storm i really would like to know what do u think of that.. And thank you💜
I really almost didn't answer this because I really don't see the point. Because it WAS a moment. There is nothing here to "debunk." It is adorable and sweet and beautiful. It's absolutely fair and expected for tkkrs and EVERYONE to gush over how amazing and cute that moment was
Tumblr media
I don't see this as a romantic moment. Not to give into stereotypes here, but it gives me drunk girls at the bar leaning and swaying into each other, clutching onto each other as they belt out one of their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. They just look a lot better doing it then your typical tipsy drunk girl 😂 and Tae, jk and hobi were all VERY tipsy at that concert. Jimin very much looked like their "DD" sheparding all his little ducklings out the door at the end of the concert lmfao and Falling also isn't a romantic love song, its quite a sad heartbreaking song about regret and loss. It's a song that the members, particularly JK and JM, have made passing mentions of enjoying, but it's not a love song. Lol they looked like they were having so much fun. But to me, it didn't look romantic at all. Im so glad they the guys DID have such a good time at that concert!!
And if that moment is the standard for what qualifies as romance, well then the OT7 Poly truthers were clearly the ones who were correct here. Dancing and hand holding is the standard.... lol then...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The dancing, the holding hands as the other person's arms is around them. It's not exclusive and to me, the vibes aren't any different from that moment to the others. In fact, the vibes given off are MORE friendly than some of these other gifs I included. Lol but none of these other moments I included here either give off romance vibes. They are all just wonderfully beautiful and fun moments between the members that deserve to be appreciated as the amazing moments that they are. My personal opinions of course. 💜
65 notes · View notes