#1) internship that i got accepted for

[girleboy]

i had 3 things to worry/obsess about and they're all sorted. what am i even going to think about in my head now.

#1) internship that i got accepted for #2) being permitted to take that oversubscribed linux course #3) acquiring beef sukiyaki cup noodles with the old packaging design

[s-4pphics]

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes 

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?” 

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest. 

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder. 

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek. 

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie. 

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.” 

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought. 

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?” 

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.” 

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed. 

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person. 

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you. 

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers. 

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming… 

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.” 

Oh God. “What?” 

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.  

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!” 

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick. 

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.” 

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.” 

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom. 

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization. 

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one. 

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl. 

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work. 

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

…

DENY REQUEST. 

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed. 

Why are people… so odd? 

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?! 

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one. 

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty. 

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away. 

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name. 

ELLIE WILLIAMS. 

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement. 

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval. 

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you. 

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it. 

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note. 

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.” 

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend. 

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.” 

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out. 

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.” 

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.” 

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.” 

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.” 

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face. 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.” 

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”  

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup. 

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.” 

“The wettest. Go.” 

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers. 

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear. 

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely. 

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected. 

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.” 

“Alright.” 

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads. 

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?” 

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.” 

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.” 

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder. 

“What’d I say!” 

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Oh yeah what.” 

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?” 

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles. 

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish. 

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper. 

… Cute. 

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here. 

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable. 

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking. 

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil. 

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention. 

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before. 

“Hey. Can we switch the time?” 

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare. 

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?” 

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?” 

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.” 

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?” 

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.” 

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge. 

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.” 

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you. 

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.” 

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them. 

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.” 

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face. 

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly. 

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.” 

“Sike.” 

You scoff in disbelief, “What?” 

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.” 

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.” 

“Right.” 

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.” 

“Hm?” 

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat. 

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.” 

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee. 

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself. 

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie. 

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word. 

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant. 

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn. 

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.” 

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.” 

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs. 

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.” 

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.” 

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.” 

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.” 

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?” 

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff. 

“Damn… My fault.” 

“I’m chilling. I just need head.” 

“Go out! Find somebody!” 

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!” 

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.” 

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone. 

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.” 

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment. 

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged. 

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night. 

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it. 

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes. 

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be. 

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure. 

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely. 

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing. 

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you. 

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open. 

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly. 

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious. 

“To move in.” 

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen. 

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that? 

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?” 

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.” 

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.” 

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder. 

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.” 

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit. 

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case. 

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams tlou #works 𖧧࣪ #click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧

[sunny44]

All these years (Part 1)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: anxiety attack, fights, brake ups and maybe other things.

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Next Chapter

Having to go back to Monaco was certainly not in my plans.

I had sworn to myself the day I left that I would never go back, but I had never actually kept that promise.

His family lives there and I've never been able to stop seeing them. Of course, I made them promise never tell him that I was still visiting them and they kept their promise.

I know this because I never received a call or an angry message.

Charles Marc Harvé Perceval Leclerc.

My first everything.

And I mean that in the literal sense of the word.

My first friend, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, the guy I had my first time with.

But most importantly.

My first and only true love.

When I moved to the house next to them, we connected as soon as we were introduced to each other.

We never had many friends because we knew we had everything we needed in each other.

He was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for.

But one thing about him was wrong.

His lack of understanding at times.

Charles was always a calm, fun guy who could make my shitty day 100% better.

But in March 10th, 2018.

That was the day everything we had went down the drain.

Charles was focused on getting his first year in Formula 1 off to a good start and I was focused on getting a job since I had just graduated from architecture school.

And I received the best offer a recent graduate could get.

It was an internship at an architecture firm.

The problem was that it was in Milan and Charles and I lived in Monaco and because of Formula 1 he wasn't going to leave.

I remember exactly the day I went to tell him excitedly that I'd got one of the best jobs I could ever want.

But Charles, contrary to what I thought, didn't have the best reaction, in fact he was very upset that the job wasn't in Monaco.

That's when our fights started, me because he didn't understand how important he was to me and an offer I couldn't refuse.

And him for saying that I'd ruined all our plans.

That day we'd had a bad fight, but the next day when I went to talk to him to try and sort it out, we fought again.

He said that I was the worst person he had ever met, that I would be a horrible wife and that our children would be ashamed to have a mother like me.

That day I cried so much that I had a horrible anxiety attack and had to go to hospital because of shortness of breath.

And he never showed up.

From that day on we never saw each other again, five years passed and here I was returning to Monaco for the wedding of Arthur, Charles' younger brother.

He and Carla were getting married after a year of being engaged and I remember how happy I was when he called to tell me that she had accepted and thanked me for helping him choose the ring.

I knew I would meet him there, I just didn't know if I was ready to see him.

Even more so in a situation like this.

"So, are you ready to see Charles?" Kika sits on the bed while I pack the last of my clothes.

"Certainly not, but what choice do I have?"

"You could have chosen not to go."

"I couldn't do that to Arthur, he was the only one who always supported me in everything, unlike his brother." I sighed, remembering him. "And I want to go, I want to see him marry the love of his life."

"I understand, and I know he'll love that you're going."

"But one day it would happen, we have so many things and people that keep us connected, so it took a while to happen."

"But you'll be fine."

"I know."

"Why are you getting so many clothes?"

"Because I don't know how long I'll have to stay there."

"What do you mean?" she asks confused.

"Because my father always convinces me to stay longer than I want to."

"I see."

"Well, I have to go soon, it's a long drive to get there."

We said goodbye and I got straight into the car and started driving there.

It was going to be a long trip.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Road tripping to Monaco”

Who wants to be on the tag list of these new story? I've already got it all written so I plan to post a chapter a day until it's finished.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc story #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc lockscreens #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc icons #charles leclerc #charles leclerc wallpaper #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc edit #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc ferrari #charles leclerc blurb

[dnsbarbie]

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x max verstappen #charles leclerc x oc #lestappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #f1 x reader #f1 #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlando #carlos sainz #landoscar #lestappen x reader #f1 fanfic #george russell #alex albon #logan sargeant #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #toto wolff #susie wolff #mclaren #mercedes

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt.1 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2.6k] [part 2] [part 3 ] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

notes: I've had this idea on my mind for months but I had no idea how to execute it at all. also instead of using the y/n insert, I gave the character a name even though it is read from your pov. It just made it easier to write lmao

"ms carter?"

your heart dropped at the sound of your name being called by an unfamiliar voice, which was something you were going to have to get used to. nonetheless, you turned around to see an older man approaching you with a warm smile and something in his hand.

when he got close enough he put out his hand and you politely shook it as a greeting, still not sure who you were talking to. before you could speak up however, you were interrupted by something being put in your hand.

"this is your staff id," the older man said and you took a closer look at the lanyard in your hand. the picture you had taken less than a few weeks ago was set neatly inside with your name, and position.

carter, jaime

[public relations manager- social media and marketing department]

public relations manager. those three words were enough to make you feel light headed.

you liked to think that your employment on liverpool fc's marketing team was nothing but pure luck. from the moment you handed in your resume for your university final year internship out of pure whim, then to you getting accepted for whatever reason until you got the email no less than a month after graduation asking you to come in for an interview.

all that lead up to the moment you were currently in. standing in the middle of the empty anfield stadium that you had visited for nearly every home game since you were a child. it was nothing but pure luck.

you were broken out of your daze by the older man chuckling about something, which showed that you hadn't heard a single word he said during the past five minutes. you mustered up a smile regardless to play it off and proceeded to follow him for what you thought was a building tour.

"I just realised that I never properly introduced myself," he laughed dryly and gestured for you to step into the tunnel before him. "I'm billy hogan- chief executive officer and I'm ever so sorry for being in a rush right now but I'd like you to be at the training center within the next 30 minutes."

your eyes widened in shock, your feet absentmindedly picking up its pace while hogan continued to speed through the building tour, leaving no room for questions but you decided to make a mental note to ask someone else when you got the chance.

you were escorted to the black s.u.v along with hogan immediately, running through the hundreds of questions you had at the moment. you know you only had room for one though before he was on another phone call.

"uhm sir-"

"yes ms carter?" the older man addressed without trailing his gaze from his cellphone screen or the pile of documents in front of him.

oh gosh.

you managed to clear your throat. "I'm not too sure why I'll be needed at the training center. shouldn't I be in the office or..."

when he heard you start to trail off, hogan shut the folder in his lap and turned to look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. there was a moment of awkward silence that passed between the two of you in the backseat of the s.u.v, the driver not paying any mind to the conversation.

"our last marketing manager had to be fired because we found out that he was leaking information out to reporters and news broadcasters along with four other employees."

oh shit.

you shuffled in your seat as you tried to think of a response to the news but whenever you parted your lips to say something hogan would raise his finger as a sign that he wasn't done talking. so you swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth along with any comments and listened intently.

did it sound like he was targeting you and bordelined threatening you? yes, yes it did. but you were sure he meant well and was only trying to bring his point across.

"we're low on staff and that's why you were handed two very crucial roles and are expected to make up for the losses. you'll be working alongside the team as you read in the contract," he began once again with a knowing look which made your stomach drop.

because you didn't read the contract. not fully at least. your older sister was the one who urged you to sign it the second it was sent to your house. hell, it could've stated that you were required to donate an organ and you wouldn't have known all because your were too excited and didn't spare anything a second glance.

"but why didn't you just promote people that were already in the department instead of giving me the position straight away?"

hogan let out a dry chuckle and tended to his phone once again, not looking back at you. "because nobody else wanted the position. it's dangerous up there ms carter. so you may feel important right now, but if you can't handle the workload and expectations it's going to get messy."

well this is news to me.

to sum up hogan's lecture and recital of the contract off by heart, you were in fact set up to be working alongside the team as a higher ranking media representative because there needed to be more field work done. no pun intended.

but the fact that nobody else was up for the position didn't sit right with you.

"just make sure they look good for the camera and keep everyone entertained. you're an influencer yourself, so I'm entrusting you to keep everything in order. you were hired because you are young and are in the game already. so keep yourself level-headed and do your best."

no pressure I guess??

deciding to wear sneakers instead of heels today was by the far the best decision you've made in weeks. the weather in liverpool during september was nothing short of horrid. when you stepped out of the car your face was immediately hit with the harsh and crisp air that reminded you why you spent majority of your time indoors.

"welcome to our axa training center," hogan gestured to the building in front of you, it's ceiling to floor windows having you gawking in awe. "this is where you'll be spending a good amount of your time, but it's not as bad as it seems I promise."

what's so bad about watching a bunch of professional football players train half naked?

unlike your last building tour, hogan actually took his time showing you around this time. from the lobby, breakroom, staff rooms, gym and finally to the field where the team was out practicing-- or at least that's what you thought was happening judging by all the screaming.

the second you stepped foot out onto the field, klopp turned to look at you with a welcoming smile.

did he just sense my presence??

you felt frozen in your spot, the world had practically stopped spinning the second he called you and hogan over. when you made it over he halted his conversation with the person beside him to shake your hand.

"it's lovely to finally meet you ms carter," the team's manager politely greeted and it took every single nerve in your body for you to not do something stupid.

you bashfully laughed and brushed his comment off, "if anything, the pleasure is mine. I am extremely honoured to be working in this position."

after a few moments of getting to know each other and klopp giving you a bit of an idea of what he expected media-wise, you realised that you had work cut out for you, judging by klopp saying, "think of this as your second family. the team needs something different, and you ms carter, are exactly the home improvement that we need."

you felt like the weight of the world had just been put on your shoulders again, and his tone of utter sincerity wasn't making it any less pressurising. of course you wanted to do well and give your all into this role but it was going to take a bit of time getting used to.

I should have read that damn contract.

"would you like to meet the team?" klopp asked with a smile and lightly patted your shoulder.

the gesture alone was enough to render you speechless, and you weren't quite sure if you heard him correctly. "would I like to do what?"

"boys!"

your eyes widened in shock as he called the team over. you didn't know what to do or say, your fight or flight mode had nearly been activated and you swore you were about to sprint out of the training center, all the way back home.

you anxiously fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what to do with your hands as you watched the group of soccer players head your way with little to no care to which klopp gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "don't worry, they won't bite."

you mustered up an awkward laugh, muttering under your breath as you mentally prepared yourself for the moment. you obviously hadn't met any of them before, the closest you had gotten was going to the stadium to watch their matches.

the closest you had gotten to any interaction with any professional soccer player in general however, would be at the beginning of the year when jude bellingham followed you back on Instagram. which was still the best day of your life up to date.

you were awestruck, words unable to form as they all huddled up in front of you. you could see the sweat beading on their foreheads which caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

"boys this is ms jaime carter." klopp gestured to you and you managed a small wave, trying to ignore the sound of your heart beating in your ears. "she'll be working with us from now on, as manager of the pr manager for both the marketing and social media departments."

you were greeted with a choir of 'hello's' and listened to klopp give everyone the run-down and a little enlightenment into the situation regarding the last bundle of staff that had to be cut off so abruptly.

"pfft, snitches."

you head turned to look in the direction of the comment, that was immediately reprimanded.

"curtis," klopp started and the soccer player pursed his lips apologetically.

"sorry boss."

"aren't you a little too young to be the manager of two departments?"

your eyebrows raised at the question from harvey. klopp and hogan had to attend to a last minute call from the clubs directors so you were left with the team to "get to know each other", but most of them got back to training which left you with harvey, curtis and trent.

you shifted your weight to your right leg, your head tilting to the side challengingly as you eyed the boy. "well you're younger than i am and playing professional football. what does me being a pr manager make any difference?"

trent and curtis couldn't help but snicker at your counter, jokingly mocking their younger teammate until he got visibly irritated.

"you can't deny us the right to laugh at you," trent said jokingly and kicked the ball to harvey, who passed it to cutis again.

their banter went on for a few minutes as you watched the ball pass between the three of them until harvey spoke up again.

"you're straight out of university though so--"

his sentence was cut off by someone yelling, "ball!", to which you all instinctively looked up only to realise a little to late that it was headed in your direction.

shit.

you backed away just in time to get the ball before it hit the ground. the second it came into contact with your foot, you sent it back virgil's way to which he gave you a smile.

a familiar feeling stired up in your stomach after, but you pushed it aside and for back to your train of thought. "and you're straight out of high-school. so i rest my case."

a moment of silence took over, trent and curtis both shifting their gazes from you and all the way over to virgil who was over at the goal post.

harvey was taking the moment to recollect your high school comment. it was because he was short wasn't it? that's all people had to throw at him these days.

it was trent's turn to speak up, his eyebrows raised while curtis muttered to himself about the distance or something like that. "have you played before?"

before you could answer, your name was being called by hogan since it was time to get back to the office building. you huffed out a breath and sent the three boys a smile.

"looks like today's 'q and a' was cut short." you took a few steps back, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your puffer jacket. "you might as well stock them up for next time. I'll be more than happy to feed your curious minds."

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer x reader #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpoolfc x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #footballer imagine #cherrei writes

[arthenaa]

ikaw at ikaw (only you) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: 4 times your team lead chose you and 1 time you chose her.

content: modern!au, office romance, you and mizu are creatives, specifically in the character and concept design department in a very very famous gaming company (take a guess), she is your creative director and lead designer and you are the concept artist, 4+1 format, FLUFF, work relations, dynamic, and position might not be accurate, forgive me, this is basically just me projecting yet again.

a/n: this is requested by @andieperrie18 ! the answer shit isn't letting me edit my answer so ill be @-ing you here. TYSM FOR ENJOYING MY WORKS !! means a lot ... u also chose pasilyo 🥹🥹🥹🥹 sunkissed lola is the best

1.

Being part of the creatives team was a nightmare.

To tell you the truth, the position for a Concept Artist with a specialty in 2D design wasn't actually all that bad. The monthly benefits and wage were something you're quite lucky to receive considering the constant side eye other departments have with the admin's treatment of the artist employees. This was also your dream job—having had to play their games, specifically, VALORANT, left you in awe and gearing to apply once you were ready for an Internship. After your OJT course, you were accepted for a position in Character and Concept Design and are considered one of the team's most beloved artists (Your followers on Twitter reckon so).

In short, the work environment was great. A solid 15/10 experience—I mean how can you beat a company that caters not only to you as an artist but also as a player? Nothing can beat that feeling of satisfaction once you see your work displayed on various monitors all around the world.

It was more of ... the relationships and interactions with that work space environment that left you grasping at a chance to breathe.

People think you're overreacting but you think it's completely reasonable.

"Yes, you are overreacting."

Your face falls at Taigen's words—watching as he plays a round of unrated in the company's leisure space decked with state of the art PC builds that could definitely beat your poor touchscreen fridge with just a move of its mouse. You could hear the familiar voicelines of Jett from VALORANT as he uses the character's abilities to swiftly enter the site and take a hold of the defenders' positions.

Taigen is part of the Gaming Development Department in the VALORANT Team. He often does routine user gameplay checks and one of its perks is that you literally just have to play the game and get paid for it. You think its unfair but then again, its Taigen. He's always unfair.

"I think you're just saying that to be mean," You frowned, eyes trained on his face—the lights reflecting back on his stupid, stupid, clear-skinned face. Taigen rolls his eyes but not an ounce of his focus leaves the game.

"Being honest equals to being mean, got it." Taigen's voice comes out in a sarcastic tone. You kick a speck of dust on the cement floor, twirling in the gaming chair you're seated on.

"I just think its a reasonable thing to complain about!" You throw your hands in the air in an attempt to get him to look at your side of things. "You're completely unfazed because your team lead has the patience of a mother with 7 kids."

You hear the familiar cue of an ACE kill as Taigen hits a headshot on the last player. The game's interface shifts to the winner screen and finally, he turns to you, pulling his headphones off and giving his best deadpan stare.

"You're freaking out over Mizu sighing over your concept design proposal for Neon and overanalyzed even the way she drank her coffee because you're obsessed with her like that." Taigen arches his eyebrow to make the situation all the more ridiculous. Your mouth closes and opens like a fish out of water. "Am I right? Wait no, don't answer that. I know I am."

"What the fuck?" Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt of self-defence but it ultimately just sounds defeated. Taigen chuckles as he turns back to his monitor to take a look at the game stats.

"Look," Taigen tries to be empathetic but you're pretty sure this is just to get you off his back. The queue for competitive is already up and running. "As your friend, I say this with the love that I have for you and your works but please, Mizu is just one woman. If my mind process went like yours, I would've assumed Akemi hated my very existence and this is coming from someone who IS dating Akemi."

You purse your lips in thought as he raises his eyebrows in exaggeration. You're not exactly sure why you approached Taigen with this problem but he was the only familiar face that you saw after walking out of the meeting room in a hurry.

But then the question in this situation is who exactly is Mizu?

Well, there were a lot of things you could associate with the familiar blue-eyed director. Mizu is your boss—the creative director for Concept and Character design for the VALORANT team. She oversees character ideas, map visuals, detailing, and the final approval for character and asset ideation before it's sent for building in the 3D and VFX departments. She is your employer but you can also consider her your friend, albeit a highly respected one (she did the character design for Jett and Yoru).

It's not that you were obsessed—Taigen is wrong, he's always wrong—it was definitely because you respected her very much. Being a Riot Design Lead is basically fucking God. You create and give life to ideas. She's part of the original team that worked on the pre-release of VALORANT during its early stages and got to see the whole thing unfold. Something you wished to see back then but glad that you were able to become part of the journey despite being a few patches late.

You respected her enough to always want to be on her good side. I mean, who wouldn't? She's talented and very... youthful-looking and one of Riot's youngest leads, you honestly think that being worried over her approval like this is just a matter of respect and definitely NOT obsession.

"You're doing that thing where you space out and I have to assume that it's probably because of Mizu, yeah?" Taigen's voice intercepts your reprieve and suddenly, a curl of your eyebrows creates a look of annoyance on your face.

"I am not obssesed with Mizu," You reiterate, but this time with your mouth. "I just... respect her."

Taigen leans back on his gaming chair, nodding as if you just told him that he didn't need to double double-click everything.

"That's the most unbelievable shit I've heard today," Taigen finally replies with a scrunch of his nose. Your jaw falls open.

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Do fucking not—Stop it."

Taigen purses his lips, and makes a motion of zipping his mouth and shaking his head. You huff in anger. Taigen was never going to believe you.

Just as you were about to chastise him again for being mistaken, a knock on the glass doors notifies you of a new presence. You turn by instinct and your eyes widen in shock and probably, dread—who knows.

"There you are," Mizu's voice filters through your ears like classical music on a good Friday evening. You stammer slightly as she enters the area, eyes trained on you through those tinted orange specs. Mizu momentarily greets Taigen who only raises his hand in greeting before turning towards the screen (only you can see through your peripheral vision that this motherfucker is laughing). "I've been looking for you."

"You did?" Your voice comes off quiet. Mizu furrows her eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah?" She replies with a confused tone. "I had your concept design for Neon approved, it was more direct compared to Matt's. I wanted to tell you in person since you just bolted from the meeting room."

You fall silent at her words. She looks a bit concerned as you try to make sense of the information.

"You seem in shock—Are you okay?" Mizu asks, eyes glancing towards Taigen who looks at her before shrugging.

You feel your heart speed up. You momentarily calm yourself before finally responding. "Y-Yeah, sorry. Just didn't think that you'd approve it."

Mizu tilts her head like a fucking cat and you're quite sure you would drop dead then and there. "Why not? It's your work."

You're not sure what she means by that but a sudden shiver runs through your veins at her praise and suddenly your cheeks are flushing.

"Ah," You're voice fills in the silence, awkward and quiet. "Thank you?"

There's a pause of silence before Mizu chuckles. She heaves a breath before pulling the glass door open.

"I'll see you at my office, Y/N." She smiles. "Great work."

The silence further pushes you into the void as you and Taigen watch her exit and disappear into another hallway through the glass windows. Just as you were a few minutes ago, you lean forward to slouch over your knees, hands on your face as you meltdown from what just happened. You hear Taigen chuckle beside you.

"Give it a few more months and she'll give you a ring on your finger with a bent knee on the ground."

You sob into your hands as Taigen erupts in heaps of laughter.

Oh my fucking God.

2.

The release for Neon was a hit. An all-time new duelist originating from the Philippines, your concept design took off without a hitch. It's safe to say that your hard work paid off as you stood over the central common room—leisure areas decked with your coworkers trying out and celebrating the release. A sense of satisfaction fills you.

"I hear you spearheaded the design concept for Neon," A voice infiltrates your sense like a lure. You can't help but smile at its familiarity. Akemi wraps her arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder as she continues. "Marketing was thrilled with the positive response. Good job."

You turn around, her arms loosely accommodating you. "Akemi," you coo.

The girl grins wide and pulls you into a hug. You return the affection in a grander gesture of squeezing her tight against you.

Akemi's part of the Marketing Department for Riot. While she often creates publication material for VALORANT, she also has cross work with League of Legends for its various strategic releases (ie. KDA).

"I just want to say that I already predicted Neon would be a sure hit, it's your work after all," Akemi pulls away from the hug with a smug smile. She grabs your hands in hers, swinging them slowly. "Marketing it was like a breeze in the park."

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm. "You give me way too much credit."

Akemi rolls her eyes affectionately. "Humility is a disease—live a little."

You shake your head at her quips, opting to smile in response. A member of your team passes by, eyes widening in recognition of you before giving you a thumbs up. Akemi watches the interaction—eyes trained on that person's figure as they walked towards Mizu who was busy talking to other creative team leads. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at her prolonged silence.

"Who are you—?" Your words trail off as you turn to look at what she's so focused on before turning back at the sight of Mizu. "Nevermind."

Akemi raises her eyebrow with an amused look on her face. "Taigen always has a penchant for exaggerating but I didn't think it was this bad?"

Your face falls at the information. "Taigen told you?"

Akemi gives you a 'duh' look—eyebrows raised and eyes half-lidded. "Taigen's a loose lock if you pry hard enough. He basically can never keep a secret."

You give her a deadpan stare before shifting in your position. Akemi crosses her arms over her chest as she eyes you up and down—filled to the brim with amusement. "I'm fine, stop making a big deal out of it."

"Uh huh," Akemi squints her eyes playfully. You could only glare back in response.

The loud cheering at the front catches your attention as resident workers, interns, and newbies alike begin to tune in at the commotion. Akemi and you move to the sidelines, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to find out what's happening.

"What's happening?" You ask the person to your front. He turns, eyes beaming with excitement.

"The creative director for C&C got pulled in a 1v1. They're playing against Beckham."

Your breath hitches at the information. Akemi nudges you with her elbow, overhearing the conversation. The two of you move to the side, finally getting a glimpse of the two team leads focused on a custom game of VALORANT. Your eyes zone in on familiar raven locks seated on the right monitor.

A live stream of their game is projected on the monitor up front and suddenly you feel sick from the amount of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

She's playing Neon. The character you designed.

Oh God. You watched her take kill after kill, headshot after headshot as she sprinted across the map—zapping characters with Neon's electric abilities. You've never seen someone look so fucking hot playing an FPS game before. It's doing things to your brain.

Just as you expected, the winning banner appears on Mizu's screen and the C&C Team erupts in cheers. You become entranced at the sight—a few of your co-workers patting her on the back before she erupts in smiles and laughs. This is not healthy for your heart.

And just as you think the night couldn't get any better, one of the people from the Marketing departments begins stirring up an interview.

"What made you choose Neon on the character pick? You usually go for Sentinels, no?"

Your eyes meet and suddenly you could feel your heart skip a few beats. Mizu chuckles.

"Wanted to do a duelist around for a spin," Mizu replies. "The design and character visuals for Neon was amazing and I ought to pay the artist who did it a homage."

Suddenly all eyes are on you—some of them even "ooh-ing" for being praised by Mizu. You pale at the attention before doing a hesitant bow in gratitude.

Mizu pulls the headphones off her head and smiles. "Congrats, Y/N. Hope you liked the win."

You feel Akemi stir up beside you, chuckling at the interaction.

You're going to die. You can feel it and its all because of your boss.

3.

Okay, maybe admitting that you were a little bit obsessed and crushing over your employer was a bit overdue. You weren't exactly the type to parade your feelings around the office but if people were to zone in on you acting sheepish and awkward around Mizu, there was a 55% chance that you could tell based on that alone.

It wasn't like your admiration for Mizu started on a whim. As said countless and countless times, it had a foundation of respect until Mizu started trying to get to know and interact with you and those same feelings of admiration started to change. What else were you supposed to do? Mizu is a fucking all-in-one holiday basket—you didn't have it in you to resist the charms.

It also didn't help that over the past few days, Mizu seems to have her undivided attention on you. Showering you with praises, asking if you wanna spearhead a certain project, revel in your work—all that shit. It's messing with your productivity and mindset and that's not a good idea.

The Head Director for the VALORANT Team had decided to call a night out for drinking to reward the team for the positive feedback for the latest patch. You were quite thankful for the opportunity as this was a way for you to get a moment of rest from Mizu's constant attention. Not that you were complaining, it's just a little... too much.

You were seated at the far right booth of the restaurant, keeping to yourself as you watched Ringo and Taigen begin to have a debate about team composition. Akemi grumbles beside you, clearly not enjoying whatever the fuck these two were talking about.

"Look," Taigen holds his hands out in front of him, trying to make a point. "All I'm saying is if you keep putting DPS builds on your team comp, how in the hell will you be able to maximize their kit? Supports are there for a reason."

Ringo rolls his eyes. "It's called enjoying the game, Taigen. So what if I want to put dick 1, dick 2, and dick 3, together?"

Taigen's jaw drops. "Do you know how much skill point dependent they are? I'm even surprised you could bust a skill out." The raven haired man pauses before continuing with a face contorted in disgust. "And stop calling them dick 1,2,3? It's Dan Heng, Blade, and Jing Yuan."

"Of course you'd police that as well. You look like that fucking emoji." Ringo raises his prosthetic hand, imitating pushing up a pair of glasses. "Um, actually—"

"You are as annoying as my grandmother, do you know that?" Taigen snarls, eyes pulled into a glare. Your tall huggable co-worker only grins and bats his eyelashes.

You begin to tune out the two as Akemi excuses herself to take a cigarette break—already having enough of their banter. You eye the glass of beer in front of you, watching as the liquid sloshes around with each twirl of your wrist.

You had hoped to end the night with silence but alas, you can never get everything that you wanted. You feel a pair of eyes on you—direct and unashamed. Already having a feeling on who this was, you looked up and met the reflection of the ocean.

'You okay?' She mouths, concern overflowing her features. It's subtle enough for people to not notice her sudden shift of attention but enough for you to understand her. Your cheeks flush as you nod back with the same softness that she had thrown your way.

She nods in understanding, sending a soft smile your way before turning back towards her conversation with the Head. You hang your head down, wishing that the night would end faster so that you can finally have the moment of peace you have been wanting ever since this morning.

It was as if the world decided to cast hell upon you and revoked you of your rights to peace at the arrival of yet another problem.

"L/N!" The Head Director's voice encompassed the whole area—eyes turning towards him then at you in amusement. "You're one of the star employees and yet you haven't touched a single speck on that glass of yours!"

His hearty laughter follows—giggles and cheering from you co-workers following suite. You sweat drop, eyes darting to Taigen and Ringo who both looked away at your glare before turning towards the window where Akemi sends you a gracious thumbs up, a cigarette hanging from her lips. You groan.

"I-I'm fine," You wave your hand, laughing it off. Your eyes connect with Mizu, an unreadable look on her face as she takes a sip of her chosen beverage.

God decides to punish you more as the team lead beside Mizu chimes in. "Oh c'mon! You're a great asset to the company! I suggest drink up!"

One of your team members passes a full pint of beer as the others begin to urge you to drink up. You hadn't felt the intensity of peer pressure ever since your dance recital on 10th grade and that wasn't even as half bad as this. You weren't feeling on drinking yourself to death as well so trying to down a full pint of beer was a ticket for you to the afterlife (ie. you on your bed with puke all over the floors). The previous pint you had was enough.

You tried to decline as humbly as you could, afraid that this might be the instance that you could finally be fired off from Riot. You knew that if they kept pushing a 3rd more of their attempts that you'd probably give in for the sake of never doing this again but while the need hasn't yet arisen, you'll try fighting off the urge to be a people-pleaser.

Just as you finally begin to decline for the nth time, a hand emerges to your right—pushing the pint of beer in your co-worker's hands. The table falls silent. Your breath falters as the familiar scent of lavender and probably a hint of sunlight begins to seep in from behind you.

"Stop pressuring her like that," Mizu's voice sounds so close —your heart hammering off your chest. Your co-worker gives Mizu a sheepish smile.

"C'mon Mizu, let your team live a little!" The Head laughs once more before leaning forward with a smug smirk. "Unless you'll save this one yet again?"

There's a pause of silence as your co-workers darted between them—back and forth. You feel Mizu sigh behind you before her arms encase you against the table, one arm placed on the beside you each. Your breath hitches.

"Sorry," She mutters as she reaches for the pint. You stammer, turning towards her as you reach out to her wrist by instinct. Mizu blinks with her eyes wide open, suddenly surprised by your actions.

"Y-you don't have to!" You murmured, trying to keep your voice low. Mizu's eyes are unreadable. "You don't drink—!"

The woman chuckles before patting your hand and gently pulling herself off your grasp. "It's okay." She says.

You watch with stammering breath as she gulps the pint in one go, others cheering as she did. The Head claps.

"Didn't expect to see Mizu downing a beer today but here we are," The man bellows in laughter. Mizu chuckles, wiping the residue off her lips. You could only stare at her in shock.

Mizu glances down at you with a smile before patting your head then walking off. Your gaze trails on her and somehow the hammering within you becomes all the more intense.

Oh, Lord.

4.

It was supposed to just be a little game—a past time that the others decided to force you along. You really had no qualms joining games like this but if it concerns the people around you, especially in your work place, somehow you feel the risk of being outed for liking someone in you work space.

"If you guys wanted to date someone in the office, who'd you pick?" Ise leans forward, eyes squinted as she gives you and Akemi a smirk. The three of you were currently lounging in the cafeteria during you lunch break. There weren't many people present due an event going on in one of the building's sectors, so having a conversation like this somehow was less anxiety inducing.

"Taigen, unfortunately," Akemi deadpans. Ise rolls her eyes.

"I mean! Besides him," Ise whispers excitedly. "There's a newbie from marketing that looks cute but kinda quiet, maybe he's nice."

"You mean Takayoshi?" Akemi raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her tea. You glance back and forth between them.

"Is that his name?" Ise watches Akemi nod in response. "Well, I'll just have to go get his number then."

Akemi shakes her head at Ise's musings and you had hoped that the conversation would end there, but Ise suddenly turns to you with that mischievous look in her eye.

"What?" You whisper out, eyebrows furrowed in innocence. Akemi side glances you, the corners of her lips upturned in a smile. God, she was enjoying this too.

"What about you, Y/N?" Ise props her arm on the table, placing her cheek on her palm. "Got someone you're interested in?"

You avoid eye contact. "No."

Ise leans forward with a gasp. "You do!"

"I don't!" You reiterate with urgency. You turn to Akemi with a frantic stare. "Tell her I don't."

Ise turns to Akemi who smiles. "She doesn't."

"Bullshit." Ise deadpans. "The moment I'd believe Akemi with a smile on her face is the moment I'd die," Akemi flashes her middle finger at her to which Ise returns generously. Finally, the girl turns to you—chair scooted over to your right as she flashes you her doe eyes. "So? Who is it?"

You Akemi chuckle against her cup as you stammer in front of Ise. "I don't really like someone though?"

"Lies," Ise declares. "We might not be that close but you got that twitch in your eye that already tells me something. Who is it?"

"Ise," You plead, eyes darting around the space. Somehow, saying it out loud meant that you're solidifying the fact that you liked Mizu—an occurrence you'd like to keep to yourself as much as possible. You loved Ise, you really do. You worked with her hand in hand in bringing Neon to life (You worked on her design while she worked on the 3D build) and have become tremendously grateful for her critique and contributions to your work. But this, this was something else. You could feel your heart speed up as she started listing some names.

"Is it Beckham? That piece of shit always too full himself." Ise places a hand on her chin in thought. "Or Ringo? Nah, he's way too focused on content map-building."

There's a pause of silence before an 'aha!' look spreads through her face. You prayed that she would get it wrong but this is Ise we're talking about.

"Is it perhaps," Ise pauses, eyes darting all over your face. "Mizu—"

"What about me?"

The three of you tense, eyes darting behind you as you turn to find the familiar stance of your boss. She leans forward, a hand on the back of your chair as she gives the three of you a curious glance. You hadn't heard her at all, and something about Ise's frantic glance towards you says she didn't expect the same thing as well.

"W-we we're just listing people we found attractive," Ise laughs uncomfortably under Mizu's stare. The creative director glances at Akemi who raises an eyebrow at her. Somehow there was a silent conversation going on between the two that left you confused.

"Really?" Mizu asks, the ends of her words trailing off as she glances back at Ise. "Who said I was attractive?"

"It was Y/—"

"NO ONE!" You exclaimed, cutting Ise off with a jump. You flush under Mizu's wide gazed, surprised at your interference. Somehow, the way you said it implied that no one found her attractive at all, and that was way too wrong so you caught yourself before you delved into a pit of despair. "I mean, w-we haven't started and was just listing people off."

Mizu nods slowly in understanding, eyes examining your face for any slip-ups. You looked away from the intensity.

Ise finally saves your ass. "Yeah. What she said."

"What about you, Director?" Akemi chimes in from your left and both you and Ise turn to her with wide gazes. She simply smiles over her cup, face contorted in a mischievous look. You couldn't read Mizu at all. You had expected Akemi to drop it—after all, she wasn't even joining in on Ise's incessant need to know everything about everyone. "Who do you find the most attractive in this office, hm?"

You can feel Mizu shifting behind you before a chuckle pulls out from her lips. You turn towards her in curiosity as she flashes a smile towards you.

"I'd pick Y/N, of course,"

Huh?

Akemi rolls her eyes, somehow already expecting the answer. Your jaw drops at her response as Mizu turns to Ise who already has a knowing look on her face.

"She's just that reliable," Mizu looks back down towards you, those shades of blue peeking from her tinted glasses. She pinches your cheek in a flash before pulling away. "Cute too."

You turn away, afraid that the flush on your cheeks might've given you away.

"Anyways, I just dropped by to see what's happening outside the event," Mizu sighs, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. "I'll see you girls around."

Your interactions always end up one sided somehow. She gives and then leaves—resulting in you malfunctioning from whatever she's left for you to deal with.

Ise turns to you with a mischievous grin when Mizu finally turns the corner. "You and the Director huh?"

"Shut up, oh my God."

+1

"Why do you always do stuff like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're not leaving me any room to process the shit you do?"

Mizu lets out quiet laughs from beside you. 10:47 pm. Normally, work hours in the office end at about 9 but you've learned that staying late is where the good things happen.

"I literally just told you 'good job' the other day and you malfunctioned in front of me," Mizu giggles, leaning forward as she tapped you on the nose with the pen to her digital tablet. "And I heard everything by the way. Quite adorable of you to deny everything."

You flush under her affectionate gaze. "Everyone's so gossipy. You can't blame me."

Mizu turns her chair towards you, arms reach out to take a hold of your own before pulling them close to her side. You lean back at her sudden proximity.

"Well you can't blame me either when you're this adorable," Mizu grins. You furrow your eyebrows, finally leaning close as you cupped her cheeks within your palms.

"You even drank beer," You whisper, tone apologetic. "You don't even like alcohol."

Mizu leans into your touch. "And you don't like being pressured into something you don't want to do. I can sacrifice a little bit of something I don't like just for you."

You melt at her words, eyes darting over her softened features. "Thank you," You whisper, grateful.

"Anything for my girlfriend," Mizu teases. You roll your eyes before pulling her into a soft kiss. She kisses back instantly, hands gripping the arm chair as you take lead of the kiss. After a few pecks and chaste kisses here and there, you finally pull back—reveling in the soft flush across Mizu's cheeks.

"Also," You chime in. Mizu raises an eyebrow. "I was the one who pursued, not you. Correct that when they catch on."

Mizu chuckles at your words. "Right on. Akemi threatened me the other day, saying something like, 'I forbid you from dating Y/N Y/L/N, Mizu Tagawa!' Funniest shit, I've heard. If only she knew."

You pinch her cheeks, giggling at her words. "Of course, she's say that."

There's a pause of silence before Mizu turns to her work, a sketch of VALORANT's newest agent displayed on screen.

"Want to help me with the new guy?" She nudges towards the screen. "Heard he's French."

You turn to her monitor, dozens of details sketched on the edges with a version of her idea of the new agent. You grin, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"You could've just asked me to marry you." You tease. "Also, sure."

You turn towards the table and pulled her tablet towards you. Mizu scoffs as you take over her work.

"And if I actually did?"

"Sure, Mizu, sure."

"I'm serious!"

a/n: hey guys!!! this was so fun to write and honestly i was just inspired to do this request bc ive been drafting an office romance for mizu after the roommate thing. hope yall enjoyed ! if yall arent familiar with valorant, here are the agents mentioned or referenced (neon & chamber (french guy)). also mizu's last name is derived from master eiji's va! cary-hiroyuki tagawa!

#arthenaa #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu bes #the blue eyed samurai x reader #the blue eyed samurai

[keylimeyunho]

hard to ignore: part 1

part 1: “your dream”

pairing: reader x fuckboyidol!san genre: smut, fluff word count: 4.1k warning(s): none for this chapter

“the concert starts promptly at 7:30. make sure they’re ready by 5.”

he threw the keys in your lap, placed a folded paper on the table of your new trailer, and held out his hand. you immediately shook it.

“welcome to the team.”

you beamed proudly and nodded your head aggressively. yes, of course, they would be ready by 5, maybe even 4:30 if you got a head start. but the man proceeded to just stand in your trailer and stare you down.

“with this being your first time working with the boys,” he cleared his throat “i’m going to give a little word of advice before you head to their dressing room.”

he walked over to the couch across from where you sat at your trailer’s kitchen table, and relaxed his arm over its cusion. he stared you down once again, looking into your pupils as if he was scanning for information about you that he didn’t already know, or couldn’t find in your resume.

“there’s eight of them… and some of them are…different. don’t let them get to you.”

you tilted your head and laughed, but only a little. of course, they would each be different; they’re human, after all. why would you need to be warned about something so trivial? “what do you mean by 'different'?”

he kept a thin lipped smile and just exhaled out his nose, silently, keeping the eye contact. “you’ll soon find out.” the man then stood up, straightened his jacket, and headed towards the trailer door. “just…be cautious. we want this tour to go smoothly, okay? no mishaps.”

“now what does that mean?” you wanted to say but you kept that thought to yourself and just held a thin-lipped smile in return, holding a strong thumbs up to let him know yes, of course. because **you weren’t about to risk losing the only job you ever wanted on day one.t

you raised an eyebrow and kept eye contact with him. “no mishaps. i swear it."

—

after dumping out your enormous stash of makeup out of your suitcase, you realized you may have overpacked. every size brush dispersed over at least ten shades of concealer and a mountain of eye shadow palettes looked up at you. but you also knew it was best to not make the rookie mistake of giving these boys the wrong products, let alone the wrong shades.

after almost three years of cosmotology school, thousands of dollars in scholarships, and a handful of temporary salon jobs, you had finally landed your first big gig. and you weren’t going to be just any stylist. you were going to be working for one of the biggest names in music, in k-pop.

kq entertainment was one of the last companies you expected to even glance at your application, let alone accept it, but they were pleasantly surprised with your extensive resume of internships and recommendations from clients at your old job. and besides, they had just lost a series of stylists so they were desperate for someone to work immediately and last-minute. and with you eager to leave a job that could not pay your rent or even just your coffee every week, that made you the perfect candidate.

especially since you graduated top of your class and spent the entirety of your undergrad working as a nail tech and shampooer right after tech school, you had more experience and drive than anyone in the running because most people just worked to pass so they could get a mediocre job at their local hair salon, getting paid maybe 30k a year (if they’re lucky) to dye greying old ladies’ hairlines various shades of brown.

but this..this was your dream. creating something original and getting to express your love of fashion, hair, and makeup to put on a show. and doing that for a group as big as ateez was absolutely surreal.

you didn’t know much about them, besides the fact they were outselling arenas all over the nation. you never paid much attention to guys, anyway, even the ones who sat next to you in class and tried to write notes to you in the margins of your paper. but you were usually too consumed in what was on the board than what the guy next to you was doing. like you said, this was your dream. not the lackluster boys who were definitely failing out of their classes. and besides, those boys were never that memorable in looks, anyway.

closing the door to your trailer, you hit the dirt with your platforms and headed towards the boys dressing room. you decided to put on your most original look you could think of that was not too over the top for complete strangers. you strapped on some ankle boots paired with a lavender maxi skirt that matched the purple satin bustier you donned under a cropped leather jacket. you made sure to showcase your personality patches of your favorite bands that you sewed onto your messenger bag.

unfolding the paper the director had given you, you looked carefully down at the order of of which member you would style first:

y/n,

the boys are trailer 1024. the order for the makeup cycle will be

wooyoung, jongho, mingi, seonghwa, yeosang, hongjoong, san, yunho

today we only need you to prepare their makeup for the show. it’s their first night in seoul since the pandemic so tonight, they need to make an impact. play off their show outfits and give us something fresh.

- kq creative team

the list was new for you and the first time you heard any of the members’ names. despite the fact you had already met with the kq staff running this concert, you still had yet to meet any of the actual members. you shouldn’t be that surprised, considering they’re famous celebrities who definitely don’t have time to meet and greet all their staff. but since you were about to spend the next few months alongside them at every tour stop, your first official meeting with them being the tour’s kick-off was a bit nerve-wracking but nevertheless exciting.

walking through the rows of trailers full of kq staff, you finally located trailer 1024 about a couple doors down from yours. you saw a door with the word ARTIST in huge red letters printed on a paper taped on the door.

this will make it so much easier to get them ready everyday, you thought. not that far a walk.

you straightened your jacket and smiled at your reflection in the trailer window before knocking.

no mishaps.

the trailer door opened almost immediately, as if the person inside was waiting for you to rap on their door. A red-haired guy with bright brown eyes and a sharp jawline stood at the door. he was in a white tanktop, but below his waist were dress pants and dance shoes. he looked like he was halfway dressed to perform on stage and he looked a little too pretty to be their manager.

you held your smile tightly, waiting for him to say the first words.

“ah, are you y/n?” he said, leaning his elbow above his head on the edge of the door, flashing an unsurprisingly perfect smile

you nodded and bowed quickly, handing him the paper the director had given you. “at your service!”

keeping his elbow on the door, he took the paper out of your hands and scanned over it quickly. “nice to finally meet you, y/n.” he moved out of the way and reached out his hand to you. “i’m wooyoung. come in.”

you thanked him and he closed the door behind you as you took your first steps inside. it was double the size of your trailer but since they were the artists and you just came on tour for their makeup, it made sense they would have more leg room after each show.

you were expecting to see eight boys sitting on the couch waiting patiently for their makeup stylist; however, wooyoung seemed to be the only around.

“here- catch!” he catches you off guard and as you turn around, a drink can flies towards your head.

you were so entranced by the sheer size of their place that you didn’t see wooyoung go into their fridge and take out two redbulls. you catch the redbull with one hand, surprising yourself. he smirks a little before cracking open his own can. “nice. quick reflexes. you’re gonna need those if you want to work with us.”

what does that even mean? “everyone has been saying things like that about you guys. what exactly am i preparing for?” you crack the can open, as well, and take a gulp.

wooyoung plops on the couch and downs the can in under a few seconds. he sighs and runs his fingers through his red hair. “it means you’re our third stylist this month.” he tosses the now empty can like a basketball across the room and of course it lands with a perfect swish into the trash can next to the door. “and i don’t want to move onto a fourth.”

you sip carefully on the redbull can. between the director and now wooyoung’s words, you start to wonder if working with ateez was not what you had expected it to be. maybe these boys are going to be more work than just opening up a few eye shadow palettes and blowing drying their hair.

but wooyoung smiles at you softly before you let that thought fully form. “but don’t worry about it too much. with your experience, i’m sure we’ll be light work compared to the clients you’ve had before.”

that was true. working with screaming nine-year-olds and their 35-year old mothers was definitely the lowest you could have reached. you took wooyoung’s words with a grain of salt and stuck them in your back pocket.

“thanks.” you respond “but i do have one question…” you down the rest of the can and mimic wooyoung, tossing it behind you. “where are the rest of the members?”

wooyoung laughs. “we rotate, usually. the rest of them are getting changed or getting their hair done first. meanwhile, i’m scheduled for makeup first.” he gets up and starts heading down to one of the other doors in the trailer. “we each have about 20 minutes per rotation, so once you finish with me, the next one of us will coming knocking on the door.”

you looked at the clock on the wall in the trailer kitchen. five minutes had already past, giving you only 15 minutes left with wooyoung.

as if he could read your mind, wooyoung opens one of the doors. “welcome to the official ateez dressing room. come on in”

—

contrary to what everyone was saying, these boys were actually quite pleasant. for being famous celebrities who had fans cheering for them every night, you expected artists like them would walk around like they were above your pay grade (which they were) and deserved your utmost respect. but to your surprise, they were just- normal. some of them even shy.

for being the 6’2 rapper, mingi had trouble keeping eye contact with you while you looked at his face before starting, trying to get the lay of the land (or his visage). his fire red and orange hair intimidated you but as soon as you stopped looking he burst out . “i-i just want to say, i love your hairstyle.”

you touched your hair and looked away for a second. did he just compliment me? my hair?

“wow, um..thank you.” you blushed. “i think your hair is pretty nice, too..if not even better than mine.”

and even seonghwa, the greek god of a man with some of the most perfect features you’d ever admired kept giggling at every joke you made, some that weren’t even your best. you tried not to mess up his perfectly tousled blonde hair when powdering his face and drawing on his eyeliner carefully, but he flinched at your every touch.

“i-i’m sorry. i’m just scared i’ll mess you up." seonghwa says, looking away and scratching his arm nervously. "we haven’t had eyeliner in years, i'm happy you're bringing it back”

“really?” you lifted an eyebrow. out of all the concept photos you studied before today, you remember looking that the “say my name” era with smokey eyeliner was your favorite look. “well, good thing i’m here. i think it's time for a change."

seonghwa looked down and smiled slightly. “yeah..good thing.”

now, when jongho waltzed in, he had the most adorable smile you'd ever seen on an idol. stubby teeth and gums showing ever so slightly that made your eyes soften proved he was obviously the maknae. but you would never know because his vocals did not match that face.

he had begun practicing one of their sets. it made your heart flutter. you never heard such a powerful and angelic voice. (and you get to do his makeup?)

“you have such a beautiful voice” you said to him as you brushed the contour over the crest of his forehead. he flashed his gummy smile again and looked down shyly. “but, i will be honest, though," you admitted with a twinge of shame. "i really haven't heard much of your music."

jongho raised an eyebrow but quickly retracted it, at as to not mess up the contour. he didn't respond, but simply grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening spotify.

the beginning note of a song began to play. he finally replies, “well, you should change that then.” the beginning note of their song "answer" begins to echo through the cool air of the dressing room. the music bounces around the room while you listen to his studio version which sounds just like the vocals you heard minutes prior.

now yeosang was the member who brought out your first real laugh of the day. walking into the room, he waved to you excitedly. "hi! i'm yeosang, nice to finally see your fa-"

yeosang didn’t notice your messenger bag by the door and is caught off as he trips over it. but instead of hitting the floor, yeosang somersaults over the bag and gets up like nothing just happened. standing there, stunned and surprised himself, he says, “you didnt see that.”

he looked down at your bag, about to pretend to kick it out the door, when he notices your patches. “pierce the veil? who is that?”

you smiled and this time, you take out spotify yourself to show yeosang your playlists.

next, hongjoong walked into the room. his hair was a striking royal blue and he was all suited up with a gold trim, black jacket. a regal look you were sure would make his fans go absolutely wild for him.

"y/n? it's so nice to finally meet you." he stuck out his hand. "our new stylist"

still holding eyeshadow brushes and cotton rounds in your hands, you weren't expecting such a nice greeting. you quickly set everything down and straighten yourself up to shake his hand. "that's me."

hongjoong settles down in the chair in front of you and closes his eyes.

"what are you doing?" you laugh, as you look for primer to start him off.

hongjoong immediately opens his eyes again. "oh.." he says nervously. "are you not starting yet?"

you chuckle to yourself, what an interesting guy. "i haven't even got the primer out yet."

his palm hits his face and slides down slowly in shame. "i'm sorry, i'm a bit of a mess. it's our first show since the pandemic and... i don't know. i'm excited to meet our fans again, but nervous they won't like what we have in store for them. it's just been so long since our last show..almost two years"

you stop rummaging in your bag to stare at him in shock. "what? of course they'll love you" you couldn't believe you were becoming a celebrity therapist, too. "and besides, you have an awesome stylist that will make you look out of this world."

hongjoong scratches his head and laughs lightly. "yeah..yeah you're right. i just love our fans so much, they mean the world to us"

you look at hongjoong as he continues to nervously scratch his head. where was the notion that these guys would be too much to handle? after only six members had finished their makeup, it seemed they were some of the sweetest and most devoted people you have ever worked with, even met. the stylists that decide to leave these angelic boys dropped the ball, big time.

—

as hongjoong thanked you for your hard work and walked out, you began looking at the list to see which member was next to come in. before you got your answer, you jumped as the door opened right as hongjoong closed it.

wearing another gold trim velvet jacket, held together by a single button, the most attractive- no, stunning man you have ever came across walked right through the dressing room door.

you never usually got starstruck and even the previous members were encapsulating beautiful. but this man, with his black hair still wet and slick from his shower and his jawline locked towards you, something about him made you almost stumble off your stool.

"oh. um..h-hi. n-nice to finally meet you" you said as you regained balanced, cringing at your own words.

he chuckled and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "oh, i already know you." he stepped a couple feet closer so you were now right under his gaze, under his chin. you could smell the faint cologne coming off his skin, making you want to get even closer to him to get another whiff, but you just stood there, in awe.

it took you a second to register what he just said. "wait..what does that mean?"

his brown eyes glinted and you could feel his breath on your face. a smile peeked at the corner of his lips and he said almost at a whisper, "you're that beautiful girl who lives three doors down from our trailer, right?"

looking into the dressing room mirror behind him, you gawk at yourself. is he talking about me?

turning to back to face him, you shrug. "n-no. i'm just your stylist." you go into your pocket and dig out the folded paper the director gave you to prove the truth: you really were just some girl kq hired to put makeup on him. he was getting you confused with someone else, someone much more interesting than you, right?

he took the paper out of your hand and suddenly began ripping it, shred after shred, letting the paper fall to the ground in between you. he bends down to look into your eyes.

my god, you didn't realize how large he was. you were too distracted by his broad shoulders that looked like they were about to burst out of his jacket. you could see right down the center of his shirt and you could almost see-

"i'm san and you're y/n, my stylist, the fine girl with the patches on her bookbag who lives in trailer 1021." he tilted his head and smirked, the tip of his tongue peeking out the corner of his lips. "don't act like i don't know exactly who you are. i know a pretty girl when i see one."

you stood there, stunned. there's no way he was still talking about you. "i'm not sure what you mean..san."

san stands back up. "tsk, tsk," he sighed, shaking his head so the water droplets fell off his soaking hair onto your shirt. you watch the droplets seep into the cotto, wondering if some of his sweat was mixed in. "don't worry, pretty girl. we'll get to know each other soon enough."

he proceeds to sit in the chair in front of you, innocently looking up with his adorable brown eyes, as if he was not just full-on flirting with his stylist seconds before. "just put the makeup on me, if you will."

you roll your eyes with a smile and start setting the concealer on his face.

"sorry, i-" you start to say, but your own giggles cut you off. "i just- i never heard someone say that kind of thing about me. caught me off guard, that's all."

san's eyes droop and he pouts. "you mean no one has ever told you how beautiful your hair falls off you." he touches the hand by your side, grazing his fingertips over your own. "or how hard you are making it to sit in my chair right now"

oh my god, you think to yourself, this has to be a all in my head. a member of ateez was sitting here flirting with you and trying to hold your hand, looking so enchantingly into your eyes.

part of you wants to grab his hand and rope your fingers between his and tell him, no one's ever told me that before, but i'll let you be the first. you sigh at the thought.

"no mishaps." the director's words ring in you're ears. you're here for one thing and one only. don't fuck it up.

as if he read your mind, san starts to drag his fingers over your palm, but you yank your hand away before he gets that far.

"nope, no one." you turn back to your makeup bag. "bow, please be silent while i draw on your eyeliner." you assert your dominance back in the conversation, trying to diffuse the hot tension boiling between you and the finest, yet most annoying man you've ever met.

san pouts again and his pupils grow, almost like a kitten's. he folds his hand in his lap and heaves out a sigh that you try to ignore. "alright, i guess. but at least let me see your face, pretty girl, one more time.. if i can't compliment it"

you turn around and give him a pity smile. "fine. now, close your eyes."

surprisingly, he does what you say, a thin-lipped smile stuck on his face as if he was satisfied with being nowhere else but here with you, letting you do whatever you want to him.

"so, who's your favorite?"

san's question causes you to shake and run a streak of eyeliner down his face.

"shit! sorry- um," you race to clean him up as he remains unbothered, waiting patiently for your answer. you wipe his face and admit, "i honestly don't have one, i mean, i just met all. of you "

san chuckles lightly, "don't lie, i know you have a favorite."

your face turns a shade of red that he thankfully can't see because he still waits patiently for your eyeliner with his lids closed. "i still have one member left after you. i'll let you know who i decide later."

"okay." san lifts his hand up. "shake on it."

now he's lost it. you know for a fact he just wants you to succumb to his charms (which you almost did, but you remained strong) and say oh, san, it's you, of course! but you were his stylist. you worked for him. an obvious power imbalance and obviously something that would mess up your career, and everything you worked for.

"i'm all good. i'll let you know my answer, if i feel like it." you assert with him. this time, san opens his eyes and smirks.

"well, princess, i don't think you-"

"all done!" you snap the blush pad closed, sarcasm hanging off your lips and not realizing he was about to say something. "thanks for being such an amazing client!"

this cannot happen again, before anyone finds out you and san were just within inches of each other, breathing on each other and feeling on each other's hands and-

"wait, y/n, can i-" san starts.

"i'm all good, actually, whatever it is. you need to keep the cycle moving anyway" you usher him out. however, he snatches the folded paper off the table and rips a small piece off, quickly scribbling something onto it.

he hands you the paper back, re-folded, and whispers in your ear, hot breath rubbing against your eardrums and making you squirm.

"for when you're ready."

he bows to you and closes the dressing room door carefully, leaving you in silence, standing with a paper in your hand and the air conditioner running loudly. you unfold the paper carefully and your jaw drops at its contents:

a phone number scrawled hastily onto the paper, attached with only the words, "for when my pretty girl decides to tell me i'm her favorite :)"

series masterlist | next chapter

tag list: @atinytinaa @cloudysannie @s10an

#please give this love and tell me what you think #part 2 will be longer i swear #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez au #ateez yunho #ateez imagines #ateez reader insert #ateez seonghwa #ateez san smut #ateez san fanfic #ateez hongjoong

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Arguments, Insecurity, Angst/Comfort, Angst, Mentions of Sex

Word Count: 6.1k

“I tried to hate you, to forgive you, all just to forget you, but I'm only capable of loving you. You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.” ― Mirella Muffarotto

Part 1

For all the years he shared with you, he knows that there were only three serious fights. 

The rest were playful things, more teasing than argumentative. Tiny jabs that were paired with wide smiles and not-so-subtle giggles. The first fight was the summer after you and he graduated from the academy, weeks before the two of you were about to go off to college. Miguel had chosen to stay in-state, getting a full ride scholarship to a prestigious school and an internship level job at Alchemax. On the other hand, you had gotten accepted to your dream school in a state over. It was a 4 hour drive, 8 hours to and back. The both of you had pushed the subject away during high school, the technicality of it not seeming concrete at the time. Neither of you wanted to think about how you’d go from seeing each other every week to maybe a few times a month. But, the closer and closer summer began to end, the more the unspoken tension grew. 

It had been a burst of insecurity on both of your ends. Miguel was scared that you’d find someone new with your time away, that you’d forget about him between your studies and the new people you’d undoubtedly attract. Meanwhile, you feared holding Miguel back. You had never been as smart as him, and you didn’t want to be a burden for him to worry about with all the distance between the two of you. He was already so much more successful than you, and it pained you to think you’d be the reason he never reached his full potential. The worry and tension built up until it exploded. 

It was a horrible mess of regretful words and sharp jabs. Untrue accusations and yelling that echoed in the small space of Miguel’s beat up car. A combination of Miguel's frustrated slams against the wheel and your aggravated hiccups. When you had stormed out of the car with a harsh slam of the door, Miguel drove off as a newly single man. It was a rough break up that left the both of you depressed and grumpy, unsure how a good year of love could end with one argument. Both of you were young and naive, still thinking love wasn't meant to have these challenges. The thoughts that surely if you fought it wasn't meant to be, that no good, long-lasting relationship would have strong arguments.

When the two of you went off to college, the remains of the argument was pushed to the back of your minds. It was hidden behind after-lecture hangouts and time consuming assignments. But in the late nights stuck in dorm rooms or when both of you needed someone to talk to and rant about your frustrations, the loneliness and emptiness of each other burned strong. Miguel spent those lonely moments on his phone, smiling sadly at old videos of the two of you, fingers zooming in to catch all the small details frozen in time through pictures. But those peaceful reminiscences would not last long, that sharp twist of his heart resurfacing and he would feel your absence stronger. 

Even with all that hurt, he could not bring himself to try to get rid of it. He clutched onto it like a lifeline, clinging onto it like a child refusing to give up his favorite toy. It was the only real reminder he had of you with you so far away. Even if he did want to get rid of it, he physically and mentally couldn't. The mere thought of him touching someone, of trying to connect to someone the same way you connected with him, made him sick. It made bile burn at his throat and forced him to spend hours in his shitty apartment with his annoying roommate. His friends practically joked that he was a nun, refusing to flirt with girls at parties and got disgusted at the talk of porn. In reality, you had consumed his mind, altered the way he perceived the world so strongly, that he found anything not involving you unworthy of his time. 

How could he indulge in those things when you had shown him how much better they could be. How could he like the way some random bar girl brushed against his arm when your touch made his skin glow and for electricity to shoot up his arm? How could he want to spend a single night with any girls when he had spent thousands with you in the comfort of your room. When you offered him more than nights of love making, giving him someplace warm to rest and be cared for. How could he find enjoyment in staged videos when you had given him the real sensations of pleasure and the beauty of your noises? Any free moment on his mind was you. You, and you, and you, and you again. 

It was the biggest relief for Miguel, and the rest of his friends and family, when you had returned home for the summer. He had found out from a mutual friend and he took the chance to see you during a group hangout. It was no surprise to the rest of his friends when the two of you instantly reconnected again. Miguel couldn’t help but be sucked into your orbit again, gravitating to your side at every opportunity and desperately trying to spark conversation. The longing and happiness radiated off the both of you so strongly that he was sure the whole establishment felt it. It wasn’t much of a surprise when the two of you went missing sometime later, escaping into an empty alleyway where the faintest noises echoed off the brick walls.

The both of you agreed it would be a summer fling, a way to get rid of any lingering feelings for each other. The summer fling turned into an off-and-on relationship during the school year, until Miguel showed up to your college sometime during the 3rd year and called it quits. He had pushed you into your apartment in a fiery kiss, begging you between desperate kisses to take him back fully, to stop giving him his heart back because it only ever belonged to you. That night both of you were thankful that your roommate was studying abroad. He had you pinned to the bed until the both of you were too sore to move, blissfulness covering your bodies as he clung tightly to you. He never knew a greater peace than being in your arms, your soft hands delicately ruining his hair even more. Late into the night, he had apologized into your neck, saying everything he wished he said on the night of the argument. You had done the same, giving him soft kisses over his face and pulling him more into you. 

When Miguel finally went to sleep that night, he vowed to himself that he would never argue with you like that again. He wouldn’t lose you. Not again.

☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆☆*:..｡. .｡.:*☆

The second fight was years later. 

Miguel had been acting differently, more distant. He came home later, was hesitant to touch you when he used to go crazy if he wasn’t glued to your side. He never really looked at you anymore, not being able to handle eye contact for more than a few seconds before turning away from you. Miguel knew it was suspicious, too sudden to not be. One day he was the loving, doting man you had known for years, and then the next he was practically a stranger living with you. And every time, every goddamn time you tried to help, to reach out to him, to remind him you were there to share his troubles; he would lash out. He would get angry, push away from you and isolate himself more. It hurt. It hurt that he was hurting. It hurt that he knew you were hurting. It hurt that you also felt like he was gone even though he was in the same home. 

A month of this behavior had you fed up. This time, you told yourself you would push. You didn’t try your resigned smiles and hoped giving him more space would bring him closer. You would push, and push, and push. You had stayed up that night, nursing a cup of wine as you stared at the TV. Miguel doesn’t think you were really paying attention to what was on, just watching a collection of colors shift until the sound of his key in the knob broke through the low volume. You hadn’t turned to him when he entered, you had sat silently as he placed his things away. He was aware of your presence, even from outside the front door, but he still was surprised to find you awake. His darling angel, a woman he has never deserved, searching for the answers to his behavior in the late hours between burgundy sips. He stood there, keeping his distance before sighing and moving towards the bathroom.  

You had gotten up to follow him when he tried to walk away, the wine glass long forgotten on the coffee table. As you chased him, you let all the words and feelings you had bottle up flow from your mouth. You had questions on questions for him: Why won’t you talk to me? Why are you acting like this? Why are you always out so late? Why won’t you just look at me? The questions stabbed at Miguel and he walked faster to get away from the sound of your voice. He could feel a headache forming, everything was becoming too loud: your voice, the noise of cars, the sound of his own fucking steps. 

He didn’t realize what he was doing in the moment, the tingling awareness and sensations blending into one. He didn’t realize the sound and the spike running through his body was you. He didn’t realize how hard he gripped your wrist when you had moved your hand out to stop his fast walking. Didn’t know how powerful he was when he pushed you into the wall in the hallway. Not until the loud thud multiplied in his ears. Not until he felt the awful warmth of your skin under his bruising fingers. Not until his eyes fully focused on your face. Not until that awful sob tore through your throat. 

Miguel never knew how badly someone would want to kill themselves until that very moment. Seeing the way your tear-filled eyes stared up at him, the way he knew an imprint of his fingers would stain your wrist. Knowing the way he hurt you and had made you cry. A panic seized his chest and he quickly dropped your wrist. His arms had wrapped around you, pushing your face into his shirt to try to dampen the noises of your sobs. His comfort made you cry harder, and he wished he could take his newly developed claws and use them to tear himself to shreds for hurting you. He had whispered in your ear sad apologies, praying that you would forgive him. He had asked, in a voice so broken and so foreign to anything he’d ever spoken, to not be scared of him. You can be anything you want, he had pleaded, just don’t be scared of me.

“This is the first time in a month that you’ve willingly touched me, Miguel.”

His mind had blanked at the hiccup filled response. He almost wished you were scared of him. Wished that whatever he did could be easily fixed and resolved. That he only hurt you in a single moment, not over such a long period of time. He wished that he could turn back time and prevent all of this. Wished that the solution to this problem wasn’t the one thing he feared the most. Wished, with everything in him, that he was someone else. Someone who deserved you and someone who didn’t hurt you the way he’s hurt you. He didn’t hold back the slow mumbles of repeated 'sorry's, petting the soft locks of your hair as you shook against his frame.  His eyes had begun to sting, and he felt the sharp points of his canines digging into his lip. 

“I have to tell you something, cariño.”

You had let out a watery laugh at that, half-heartedly joking that he was going to tell you that he wanted to break up. Miguel didn’t have the energy to fake his own laugh or smile, instead bending down to pick you up. His arms rested under your knees and back as he carried you to the comfort of your bed. His side was unusually cold despite him sleeping in it. Over the month, he was the last to get in and the first to get out. Now, he goes back to the usual routine. He lifts the covers to your side, placing you down before he scoots in besides you. Your arms instantly wrap around him again, a pleased sigh leaving you as his hand rubs up and down the length of your back. He had laid there silently, letting you enjoy the time and touch he selfishly took from you. His body felt lighter than it had in the past month as he held you to him. The smell of you entering his lungs and spreading peace throughout his bloodstream. He doesn’t know how long the two of you laid there before he started talking. Maybe it was 10 minutes, 30, possibly 60?

“Something happened at work a month ago. I… don’t want you to be scared of me.”

He had spoken the words so softly, he wondered if they were only audible to his sensitive ears. But you had turned to face him, an encouraging look in your eyes as you nodded. He had taken a deep breath, one of the many he would take during the conversation. In soft tones, he had recalled the accident. He recalled a neon chemical that caused his skin to burn if he didn't take it. How his thoughts were split between the next time he would get a dose and how to talk to you. His eyes grow distant as he looks back on the memory of a mistake, how the DNA had run through his veins so sharply that he felt like his nerve endings were tearing apart and being reshaped. He hesitantly showed you the new developments on his body, the way he barely talked because his sharpened teeth always catch on his lips, how he’s been so hesitant to touch you because he wasn’t sure if his new claws would retract, showed you the new swirls of red that danced in his brown eyes and glow with emotion. 

You had laid silent and Miguel was more than prepared to leave if you asked him to. He had a bag packed under the bed ever since he found out the extent of his now mixed DNA. He was prepared to leave at any sign of your endangerment or if you asked him to. He didn’t want to leave, never wanted to live a life without you, but if you had asked him to, he would. He would do anything for you. Even if it killed him. His life only revolved around you, and it still would if he left your apartment and never returned. Even if the roles were reversed and you were the one to end up leaving. 

Your soft hand along his cheek took his attention again, his eyes watching you as you studied him. You had gently pulled his lip back, watching the gleaming point of his fangs. He felt the warmth of your touch travel upwards, massaging the skin under his eyes as your other hand grabbed one of his hands. Miguel had choked on his breath when you pulled it from under the sheets, sharp points spiking from the pads of his fingers. He was about to protest when you brought them to your mouth, but watching in fascinated as they retracted one by one as you pressed kisses to his fingers. When you finished, you grabbed his other hand and did the same thing. He felt the sting in his eyes return and he had to close his eyes tightly to will himself to stop. 

“Tell me how to help you. Tell me how you want me to love you so it doesn’t feel like everything has changed.”

Your soft, heartfelt request tore through his heart and he couldn't stop the tear that ran down his cheek. He had held your hand to his face as you brushed away the tear off his face, turning his head to give it a small kiss. He didn’t deserve you. Not like this. Not when you were so caring and lovely and soft. He could never comprehend how lucky he got. How someone was kind enough to drop you amoungst the chaos of his life. Miguel had wrapped his body around your smaller frame, trying to embrace you fully as he felt the remainder of that heavy burden leave his body. 

“Love me the same. I just need you, only you.”

When you had agreed and just held him, Miguel felt his heart sing and the wickedness of his new life temporarily retract. He hadn’t lost you. 

Not yet.

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The cause of the last argument is muddy in his mind. It’s lost in all the other things that happened that night, his mind finding it irrelevant in the face of the bigger picture. He thinks it was something to do with him being Spiderman. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. He’ll never really know. Maybe it’s better that way. 

All he knew was that the both of you were yelling. Knows he was wearing down the wooden floors with his pacing while you stood on the other side of the kitchen island. He knows that both of you were taking turns tugging at your hair, stressed laughs bubbling from each other's throats. He knew the fight was full of interrupted sentences and angered stuttering. He knows whatever the argument was about got you so angry that you stormed out of the house in a huff, grabbing your old coat and boots before slamming the door shut. 

Miguel had thrown his hands up in disbelief, shaking his head with a forced scoff. He nervously gnawed at his bottom lip, continuing to pace as he checked the time over the stove repeatedly. Once five minutes hit, enough time for you to hopefully calm down, Miguel rushed to the door and pulled on his own coat before rapidly locking the door and jogging down the hall to the elevator. He had spammed the down button repeatedly, ruffling his hair impatiently and glancing down at his digital watch every few seconds. When the elevator finally arrived, he had pushed past the person trying to exit, ignoring their grumbles while spamming the close door button after selecting the lobby. 

Once the doors opened again, Miguel rushed out and quickly scanned the lobby. It was practically empty except for a few people getting home late from work, making Miguel sigh as he went outside to the blistering cold. The cold air instantly turned his nose cold and he grumbled as he buried himself further into his coat. He watched people pass by him, subtly trying to smell for your scent. A deep sigh left him as he came up with nothing, looking down either side of the sidewalk. He couldn’t see you through the late night bustle, rolling his eyes as he started to fall into the flow of the crowd. 

A look of displeasure filled his face with each person who pushed past him, wanting nothing more than to find you quickly, apologize, and return to the warmth of your shared apartment. Maybe he’d make something warm for the both of you and cuddle on the couch, maybe exhaust any remaining energy under the new weighted blanket you bought. He smiled slightly at the thought, his hands flexing in his coat pockets as he looked down at the crowd to spot sight of you. A few times he was sure he found you, only to find the slight imperfections that told him it wasn’t actually you. He was about to turn around to see if you went the other way, when he smelled that familiar scent. His eyes lit up at the sight of your head, pushing through the crowd to get closer. 

Just as he was about to reach you, he heard it. A low grinding and creaking of metal  that was soon followed by screams and mass hysteria. Miguel quickly turned his head around, finding the familiar form of Venture following after him. A sharp curse left Miguel, his head turning to look for you to only find the pushing and shoving of the crowd. He had to bite his lip hard to prevent himself from yelling out your name, scared Venture would pick up his voice and put you in danger. With another curse, Miguel pushed through the crowd and into an empty alleyway. He took a deep breath, momentarily looking at the rush of people passing by for the sight of you. A sharp hiss left his mouth before his suit materialized. 

He quickly scaled the side of the building, hiding himself at the top of the rooftop. His eyes still scanned for you desperately, only to meet eyes with Venture. Curse after curse left Miguel’s mouth as the cyborg flew up to him at full speed. Miguel’s teeth clenched hard as he pushed himself off of the ledge of the building, meeting the robot fucker mid-way through the air. The two of them went spiraling to the ground, Venture’s back hitting an abandoned car in the middle of the street. The loud blaring of the alarm slightly disoriented Miguel enough for Venture to push him away, throwing him off the side. His shoulder takes the majority of the impact, a dull pain running up its length as different shoes rush past him. 

He isn’t given enough time to get up himself, a hand coming around his neck and throwing him towards a lamp post. A sharp breath leaves his mouth as the impact vibrates through his body. Miguel is temporarily paralyzed, spine throbbing. He pushes himself away just in time to miss Venture’s hard punch. The mental hand dents the spot that was once Miguel’s face, and Miguel runs into the robot’s side to throw him off balance. Miguel’s claws shred through Venture’s clothing, barely ripping through the reinforced metal of his torso. The two take turns swinging and dodging, tumbling on the floor until Miguel’s pinned down. The robotic hand squeezes tight around his neck, his hands coming up to claw at it. He manages to faintly kick Venture off of him, only to find himself flying into a building. 

Venture is quick to return to his attack on Miguel, his hand once again around the spider’s neck and dragging him up the length of the building. Miguel continues to struggle until the wall behind him disappears. He goes tumbling backwards, rolling on the landing of the clock tower. A deep groan leaves Miguel as Venture lands a few feet away, walking towards the hero. A deep noise vibrates in his throat as Miguel lunges at him, knocking him backwards. The two continue into a mess of fighting again, harsh hits, loose wires, and blood covering the area. During the tussle, Miguel is able to grab Venture’s weapon, kicking the cyborg away from him as he prepares to deliver his finishing hit. 

But, of course, things never go the hero’s way. Because he can hear the metal creaking of stairs and a smell is beginning to seep through his mask. He knows you are there before you even burst through the heavy metal door and call out his name. His eyes widen as he turns towards you, a new panic seizing his being before he’s pulled back into the present by the swooshing of air. He barely dodges as Venture flies towards him. Venture is quick to redirect, grabbing Miguel’s arm and flipping him onto his back. They both begin to wrestle for the weapon, Miguel trying to fight off Venture and yell at you to get away from here. But he can’t focus on the two of you at the same time. If he wants either of you to make it out alive, he has to focus on Venture. Not you. 

But he can’t help but curse you out in his head. Of course, the moment he doesn’t want to see you, you're here. Of course you’re in danger because of him. Of course you were fighting over Spiderman and now the two of you find yourself in this situation. Why couldn’t you have just followed the crowd? How did you even know he was there? Did you see Venture drag him up the tower? Did you really need to come up here to check on him? Did you have to care so damn much about him the same way he cares about you? Did you have to put yourself in danger for him? Why couldn’t you have just fucking stayed away? You were mad at him, that's what made you leave the safety of your apartment in the first place. Why. Didn’t. You. Stay. Away.

Maybe then it would have been different. Maybe then you could have changed the canon. 

It happened in a flash. It was like a flip book, separate scenes morphing together to create a rapid story. Miguel had pushed away Venture for the last time, the cyborg a mess of popping wires and torn metal. He was so hyper focused, so unaware of everything around him when he had lined up the weapon. He should have been more cautious, should have predicted the blast would be so powerful. But he didn’t. He didn’t make sure you had actually left, and he didn’t prepare himself for the blast. 

When he shot the weapon, a hot beam of energy shot out. It sent out a blind light, throwing Miguel back so strongly that he had to dig his nails against the floor to stop himself from falling off. When the power of the blast died down, in place of Venture was nothing but charred metal. A strong ringing filled Miguel’s ears, eyes squinting as he surveyed the area. The shot had cut through two of the beams holding up the clock tower, a low groaning sounding as parts of the ceiling began to cave in. All at once, it gave in, metal and concrete falling to the ground. 

And, like everything else today, he heard it before he saw it. He wished he didn’t. Wished he didn’t see or hear anything. Wished he didn’t instinctively look towards the noise and get his heart ripped to pieces. Wished he had other abilities, ones that weren’t so horribly useless in the face of your need. Wished his body didn’t have that slight pause before he had raced towards you. 

He had watched as a piece of metal flew towards you knocking you over the edge of the platform. It was only a second, maybe three, before he had desperately pushed himself off the ground and plunged off the edge. The air had stung his eyes, causing his eyes to water and for his breathing to stutter. It had to be the air. It couldn’t have been the way you had looked at him in the middle of your free fall, eyes calm and full of nothing but love and affection for him. It couldn’t have been the way you didn’t even reach your hand up to try to grab his outstretched one. It couldn’t have been the way he had thought in that very moment how he had wished he never fell in love. How he never regretted falling in love with you until you were slipping through his fingers. 

The noise you had made was deafening. It was so unbelievably loud that it made Miguel close his own eyes as his body instantly shifted so he landed on his feet a few meters from the ground. He had landed right next to your body, an ugly dark liquid covering over the pavement. He had his mask fall away, heavy and strained breaths leaving his chest as he fell to his knees. He hovered over you with wild eyes, not knowing what to do. Should he touch you? What if that hurt you more? What is he supposed to do? Someone please tell him what he’s supposed to do.

Hesitantly, he had reached his hands around your body, pulling your head to his shoulder as he rocked the both of you back and forth. He had ignored the sticky liquid covering his hand as it held the back of your head, shushing quietly in your ear as he repeated you’re okay over and over and over again. His head had pressed firmly against the side of yours, his breath coming out in white clouds as he tried to find warmth from your body. It had long gone cold, but his hands rubbed desperately over your arms to keep you warm. He had refused to pull away, ignoring the logical voice in his mind that had acknowledged during your fall that you wouldn’t be making it out alive.

He only forced himself away when the sound of sirens and ambulances grew near. He had shut his eyes, a wetness dripping down his face as he had squeezed you tightly to him. He let you back down in your original position with unstable breaths, apologies spilling his mouth as he slowly got up. As the first ambulance rounded the corner, a resounding chime filled the air. Miguel had turned, face looking up to the glowing clock that he had just fallen from. The clock had struck midnight and Miguel couldn’t hold back the rough sob as he hurried away from your body. 

Miguel hated that fucking clock.

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The apartment was cold when he entered it. Cold and quiet. 

Then it was hot and angry as he threw things. He ripped things off of the walls, threw glasses and dishes until they shattered to the floor and left dents. His claws had torn through furniture until the remains of his life were broken and unusable. He had let out heavy sobs and loud screams during the rampage, finding himself squeezed into a corner of the bedroom where he had piled your clothing around him. Your scent had calmed him slightly, but also broke him as the image of your body played over and over and over again in his head. 

He played with the velvet box he had kept in the bottom of his nightstand, tossing the box into the air before catching it and throwing it hard at the opposite wall. The force had broken the box in two, the useless ring rolling across the floor with a small clatter. He had sat there for a while before he desperately crawled to pick up the engagement ring. He held it close to his lips, mumbling sorry over and over into the cold band as he rocked himself back and forth in the pile of your belongings. 

He had lost you this time.

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It had been ten odd years since then. Ten odd years of frustration and sadness and waking up to nightmares that push him back into corners to mumble out sorry. On those nights, he gets the ring that sits useless next to an old bottle of perfume in his nightstand, forever unable to get rid of either of them. He holds both close to his chest until the sun comes up or until his crying makes him sleep. Then, he’ll tuck them back into their safe space, hiding them from the light until the next time he relives your death. 

A crumpled photo sits in his office at HQ, he finds himself looking at it from time to time in the long hours he works. Some of the younger spidermen, plus Peter, had asked him about it before. To all of which he had ignored and hidden the picture from their sight. He was selfish, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else, even after death. You were his. His to remember. His to mourn. His to miss. His, his, his. His to lose. His to love. His to repent for. 

He doesn’t think he would even be able to talk about you even if he tried. He could only find himself mumbling your name in dreams, in sleepy, delirious states. If he were to try now, he would choke on the syllables, mouth opening and closing before giving up and continuing on like nothing happened. Maybe it's better that way. This way he couldn’t tarnish your name more than he already has. Maybe this is his punishment. Maybe he deserves it. 

But in the late nights alone, he wishes someone would ask. When the sound of the clock tower rings over the whole city when he’s on night patrol, he wishes someone would come up to him and ask him about you. He wishes he had someone to carry your memory with, someone who will listen as he talks about beautiful you. Someone who can see how stunning you were. To see how unfair it was you didn’t get more from life. Someone to see how fucked up it was that the world stuck you with someone like him. Someone to confirm how the only real villain in the world was him. 

But he knows that person doesn’t exist. Not anymore. Because that person is always you in his mind. He sits on the edge of that fucking clock tower and imagines your wispy form next to him. Imagines conversations he would have with you and how you would respond. In his mind, he retells the way he had planned to propose to you, almost smiling at the make-believe dialogue of you nitpicking his plan. Then, the clock would strike and he would leave. Just like he did the night you died. 

But, he still wishes for that person. Had hoped with time it would be Jessica or Peter, maybe even LYLA if he got so desperate. But he can’t find the willpower to do it. So he imagines those conversations too. He imagines questions and how he would answer them. What was she like? Unlike anything in the whole multiverse. What did she want to do with her life? To leave the world better than when she found it. What did others think of her? Mistook her for the sun. Brightest, most beautiful person in the room. Definitely the one you go to on your baddest days. Do you still love her?

He tries to answer that question whenever he imagines it in his head. But he can’t. Yes? No? Maybe? It depends on the day? Did he love you when you were alive? Absolutely, there is no question in his mind. Did he love you when you were dead in his arms? Even up to the moment when he had to walk away. Does he love you now that you’re gone? That, he can’t answer. It pains him that his answer isn’t an immediate yes. He wants it to be yes. He really does. But he is so shrouded in hurt and pain and unfinished mourning that he can’t form a clear answer. Does he love that you’ve left him this heavy burden to carry? No. Does he love that he got the chance to love you enough to feel so strongly for you years after your death? He doesn’t know. It's horrible. It's a deep and ugly feeling that he wished he could rip out of his chest and bury it with you. 

And the worse part? If someone asked him if he would do it all over again, he wouldn't hesitate like he did with the former question. He has this answer lined-up and ready. Has it prepared on the tip of his tongue. His body practically itches for someone to ask him. 

If someone were to ask if he would do it all over again, if he would let it play out the same way knowing this is where he would end up, he would immediately say: No. I would have never looked at that damn clock.

And what's even worse? He knows the day that he's on that death bed, when he hears your voice and feels your touch, he'll finally give into that sharp pull on his chest and make his way home. And when he does, he'll fall to his knees and ask you to forgive him for lying.

Just like he did in every universe. Just like the canon predicted.

Almost a full month since I posted the first chapter. Was this worth the wait? Eh… Maybe? Going on to bigger and better things.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #time and clocks series⏳ #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

[olldolldraws]

Pls tell me more abt ur support course Deku au I am in love 💖💞

Hi friend I just figured out where the hell my inbox is so very sorry for the delay!

I do have a story in my head for my support course Deku, and its a bit long SO GET READY FOR THE RIDE. Anyways, his backstory is the same, but he never got OFA from All Might, and failed his UA exam so he uhhhh… didn’t get in. After a period of depression and hopelessness about his inability to be a hero, he turns to looking into heroism through engineering support devices (maybe by watching a documentary on David Shield’s work to help All Might — just imagine something like Kiri’s revelation w/ Crimson Riot but Izuku and David instead). Except, boi doesn’t really have engineering skills, so he researches. And you know when he researches, HE RESEARCHES. It takes a couple months, but he already knows most things about heroes, including their costumes, so it’s not a huge jump. He’s attending a regular high school at this point - he focuses more in his STEM based classes in school to help him along.

He also keeps doing hero analyses, but taking account how support devices can aid them or how they could be improved. His crazy analysis skills and support item ideas (by means of a blog) get some attention from some scientists he was invited to attend a brief internship/study abroad thing on I-Island. After working with Melissa and the other students on I-Island, he gains confidence as a support engineer! He even gets offered a referral by David the man himself to attend UA the following semester (after he gets word of Izuku’s dream to attend), but Izuku turns it down cause he wants to *earn* it. He passes with a bit of difficulty (scoring really high in creativity and concept, not so much on execution), but he’s accepted in as a transfer to the 2nd year support course!

Meanwhile, UA has already heard rumors about the kid coming from I-Island as a transfer, someone who got a rec from THE david shield - and turned it down. They all think he’s a big shot oozing with confidence, since who tf thinks they’re that good to straight up refuse a UA referral?? Bakugou doesn’t know ANYTHING about Izuku since middle school, so though he has an inkling that it *might* be him, he’s brushes it off like ‘there’s no way, his ass is NOT confident’. Once Izuku gets to UA, he makes quick friends with Mei (through Melissa) and also has all of UA lining up to get support item/costume suggestions from him, and class 2-A (formerly 1-A) is no exception! It helps that he already met Iida and Momo through the Hero Expo on I-Island (hence him + Iida’s familiarity in the comic I drew), but he makes lotsa friends (eventually even Bkg) and exudes confidence in a humble manner while basically becoming the next generation’s David Shield.

I actually have more to this but this is already super long LOL so I may write it up later if anyone else is interested to know more!

#support course izuku #ask

[count-alucard-tepes]

To have his heart💕…part 1

Part 2

Part 3

“…you gonna be late, Cora-san…and that would leave a bad impression especially on a first date”, Law said as he was at the dining room table, eating dinner and reading one of his medical books.

Rosinantè slipped on his blazer and walked out to see his kid before ruffling his hair, “…I know, I know…just call me if you need anything…I shouldn’t be out too late…and if you can’t get a hold of me, call grandpa Sengoku”.

“…I’ll be fine, just go already and don’t forget the flowers”, Law said as he pointed to the roses without looking up.

Rosinantè took the flowers and headed out for his date. He had to admit, he was a little nervous since he hadn’t been on a date since Law started med school…they both were so busy but things finally stabilized.

He met Y/N at the marines HQ hospital unit while trying to get Law an internship. Y/N helped him out with all the paperwork as that was definitely not Rosinantè’s forte. He built up the courage to ask them out once he found out that they were single.

He thought the first date should be pretty simple like dinner and a walk afterwards since he didn’t want to put too much pressure on his potential S/O.

He got to the restaurant first (thankfully) and waited for Y/N. They wouldn't take too long to arrive and Rosinantè presented them with the flowers, "...I thought you might like these", he said gently.

Y/N accepted the flowers and inhaled their scent, "oh they're perfect, thank you so much", they said gently before giving him a hug.

He blushed in response before taking a seat opposite them, "...I'm glad you like them, so how has your day been?", he asked curiously as he watched his S/O settled down and take a sip of their water that the waiter had poured for them.

"It’s been pretty good, I just stayed in for most of the day…and baked some cookies “, Y/N said with a smile, “…and don’t worry, I brought some for you and Law”.

Before he could even inquire more about the cookies, a cute container was pulled out and handed over to him. This of course made him blush, not because they thought about him…but because they thought about his kid.

“…look at you, little miss/mr baker…thank you, I’ll make sure he gets them”, he said with a smile, “…I had a pretty relaxed day too, it’s my day off work and Law was just prepping as usual for the next week…I encourage him to go out with friends every now and then but he prefers not to”.

Y/N laughed a little in response, “…he’s got his head screwed on right…I don’t think you have anything to worry about”.

He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, still though…”.

Y/N smiled in response and looked at the menu, “…shall we order, Rosinantè?”.

“Yes, of course…go ahead”, he said gently as he looked at the menu, but he already knew what he wanted to eat.

“You know when you asked me on a date, I was pretty surprised you were even single”, Y/N said with a smile after they placed their order.

This made Rosinantè blush again, “…o-oh? Why is that?”.

“Well you’ve never at the social events the marines usually host…I assumed it was because of your spouse or something along those lines”, Y/N replied gently.

Ah he could understand how that could look but he was just always busy with making sure his kid was fine even if they were a college student, he just never really thought about himself for such a long time. It was not in his nature to be that way.

“No, not a spouse but my kid is important to me even if he is pretty much an adult…I’ll try to attend those now if you’ll keep me company”, he said with a little smile.

“Of course, I will! It’s stressful being in the marines as it is…but the social parties do help every now and then to let loose…I count those as my social days so I don’t feel too bad for not going out as much as I should”, Y/N admitted with a little blush spreading across their cute face.

Oh how cute they were, he thought to himself.

“I didn’t think about it like that but you are correct, I should do the same…it would be nice to get to know some of my new colleagues better”, he said thoughtfully.

“So Rosinantè, this might be a bit of a heavy question…but I’d like to know what are you looking for when dating?”, they asked curiously.

Y/N was bold but he loved that, he was almost 40 and didn’t want to mess around anymore. He wanted to settle down and grow old with someone…maybe have more kids.

“No, I like that you asked that…I am looking for someone I could potentially spend the rest of my life with…I feel it’s time for that”, he admitted, “…same question but you answer this time”.

Y/N smiled in response as they took a moment to gather their thoughts and words, “I’m a hopeless romantic, I’ll admit but I’m realistic too…I’ve been into my career for so long that I feel like it’s time I found my forever person…someone who would genuinely care for me and value me as much as I would them…”.

This made Rosinantè smile in response, “I’m glad we are both on the same page…”.

After dinner, the couple walked out hand in hand, “…it’s a chilly tonight”, Y/N said as they looked up at the sky.

“You can have my coat if you like…”, Rosinantè said gently as he began taking off his coat, stopping only when he felt Y/N wrap their arms around his waist and cuddle into him.

“Nope, I’m good like this…”, they said with a big smile as they looked up at him.

He blushed a little in response, “…o-okay…let’s continue our walk then”, he said gently as he placed a hand on the back and slowly caressed as they walked.

“Do you want to go home for some coffee? My apartment isn’t that far from here”, Y/N asked gently as they walked.

By now, Rosinantè was starting to feel a little cold too but his ears began to burn when he heard Y/N invite him to their home.

“Oh sure, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold…Sengoku would kick my ass if you got sick because of me”, he said with a weak smile, “…lead the way”.

Y/N smiled brightly in response and lead him to their apartment.

He ended up spending the night with nothing scandalous happening and made his way back home in the morning.

He opened the door as gently as he could without trying to make a sound and headed inside, “…good morning, dad…”, Law said with a little smirk across his face as he cuddled on the couch in a blanket and watched some tv.

Rosinantè blushed and scratched his head, “…sorry I was out all night…wasn’t my intention…did you eat?”.

“You’re alright, old man…I already made breakfast…yours is in the microwave as usual”, Law said before turning his attention back to the television, “…by the way, your brother was trying to call you all night…then he started calling me but I didn’t answer…he started sending drunk voice messages so I blocked him”.

Rosinantè sighed softly in response. It was Friday night so of course Doffy wanted to spend time together and since he and Law didn’t get along…he was often left alone with his big brother who would often get drunk and talk about their childhood.

“…my phone died…I’m sure I have a million messages too”, he grumbled as he put his phone to charge and went to take a shower. He came back to the kitchen and began eating while listening to the 323 voice messages Doffy sent.

Law came in and began washing up the dishes, “…so how’d the date go?”, he asked gently.

Rosinantè smiled a little, “…it went well…they sent some cookies for you that they baked…I want to continue to see them”.

“Oh yeah? That’s nice…I’m happy for you, dad…maybe now you’ll keep yourself preoccupied and stop forcing me to hang out with you”, he said with a grin.

“You little shit, I’ll make you regret that…“, Rosinantè said with a smirk as he began video calling Doflamingo.

“…hey where the fuck were you last night? I thought you were coming over”, Doffy said as he yawned, clearly still in bed…the lazy fuck that he was.

“Yeah, yeah I was busy…by the way…Law wants to spend day with you for some uncle/nephew time…you should come over”, Rosinantè said with a grin as he looked at Law who tried to snatch the phone away from him but was way too short compared to his dad, “…Cora-san, noooooo!”, he whined, using the endearing pet name.

“Oh yeah? I’ll be over in a couple of hours…make sure you got some food”, Doflamingo said with a smirk, “…see you soon, nephew! Love you!”.

Rosinantè laughed in response, “…now now, get ready for your uncle…you know he’s gonna a menace when he gets here”, he said as he ruffled his kid’s hair before texting his S/O a good morning text.

((I could picture this in my head and it’s so cute I can’t deal😂 ))

#ooc #one piece #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon #one piece rosinante #rosinante x reader #fanfic #modern au

[rayroseu]

I GOTTA LET THIS OUT OF MY FRANTIC MIND RN OR I'LL DETONATE FR

!! major spoilers for book 7 part 3 !!

i couldnt watch the entirety of the stream because it got released during my class D: ALSO BIG WARNING THAT THIS IS ALL OVER THE PLACE AKDJSK i just want to ramble💥

BUT from what i got--- ? The beginning was Idia's dream most likely and ofc, its the dream he wishes were real... where Ortho's alive-- 😭😭

I missed the following part after that but it seems Malleus was invited to the orientation AT LAST??!?!?!?!! I'm presuming that no matter what dream a person is having while asleep, Malleus is a part of it where he isn't excluded and feared???

☆

Its well known now that Book 7 will heavily imply familial messages and from what we seen with Shroud Family so far, is that they were very communicative and supportive of each other in the loving way possible.

I assumed they were strict and cold parents before but I'm glad its wrong, cuz this is such a nice twist 💕 their dynamic reminds me of disney Hera and Zeus affection on Hercules--- I wonder if theyre showcasing this as parallel of Diasomnia's??? So far in canon, most of them rarely talk about much they actually mean w each other or even being wholesome like the Shrouds were lol But still... its undeniable theyre family as wellll 🙏

Seems like the groovy nowadays are more 'wholesome'??? i wonder if theyre taking their whole message that "every villain isnt just purely a villain/evil" more strongly now-- 👀 idk if that will correlate w book 7 but i hope they (the devs) take time to finalize it since the impact of this overblot is so severe even I cant predict how they can mend this KAJSKAK

○

I really have to watch Mickey Through the looking glass, the references are killing me--

ALSO YESSS HIGH FIVE WITH MICKEYY AAAA 🥺💕💕 IM SO glad Yuu remembers what happened!!! IVE BEEN HOPING FOR THAT, that they got to have a big role for this book!!😭😭 Thank you TWST for hearing Yuu stans collective wishes--

this is actually Mickey's Dream... The date seems to be flipped and many theorized its flipped number 15, which is Silver's Birthdate-- 👀 idk what that means and why on Mickey's place?? and beside the mirror as well💥

♡

you know that GIF of Charlotte (Princess and the Frog) squealing with a newspaper??? THATS MEEEE--- AAAA SILYUUU FEAST!! SILYUU FEAST!!!! SILYUU NATION SO BLESSEDDD😭💖💖💖💖

when he says hold on tight while the surroundings crumbles down and we're about to get swallowed by ink blots, it is so!!!!! *delusional mind* SO ROMANTIC OF HIMMM 😭💖💕😭💖💕omg,,,, what a shoujo moment, we are winning everyone 👍🤲💕🤌✨🙌🙌

ALSO UNIQUE MAGIC REVEAL HOOYAAAHH🙌🙌

also his magic is so complicated 😭😭 theres A LOT of conditions to be met before it can even be used--

i wonder if thats similar to how Ortho said that for Mickey to appear in the mirror (at book part 1 where the first years are at the cafeteria) , certain conditions should be met??? I mean, Silver And yuu have some parallels already... esp the fact that Lilia says during when yuu felt unwell at the party, he stated its similar to Silvers face when hes about to fall asleep--

□

Afterwards is Sebek's dream..... we alll collectively sobbed at this part of the livestream HNGGGG sebek why would ur dream be like that-- IT HURTS SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Malleus accepting his graduation(?) from NRC with no qualms, Lilia graduating as well and leaving for Red Dragon Nation because of his internship and not his weakening magic...🥺💔💔

Sebek's reaction at Malleus overblotting was the most relatable one (fear and disbelief) over others and his dream was the mirror to what we(the fandom) wouldve wished what happened-- IM SOBBING WHY U DO THIS SEBEK AIDUHFJEUFN!!!😭😭😭💥💔

DONT EVEN. GET ME STARTED. ON HOW DOTING LILIA WAS TO SILVER..!!!! like wthhksjdj THATS SO EVIL TWST!!! THATS SO LETHAL MALLEUS OHMYGOD--- so evil to use everything silver wanted from lilia just for him to stay in this dream where::

-lilias healthy, lilia is staying w silver, lilia is caring to him, and how hes returning to briar valley to live with him forever??? BRO HOW MANY TEARS WERE SHEDDING TONIGHT HUH...--💔💔💔😭😭😭

●

MALLEUS IS SO MAD WE WOKE UP SEBEK OHMYGOODNESS 💥💥💥😭😭😭

I always love his voice, it seems his tone is so harsh and cold now when he overblotted its so sexy--- and at the same time terrifyingggg 👍🛐 Kazuki Kato, I love his performance in this, this is so haunting in the most agonizing way 😭💚💚

... NOT TSUNOTAROU GOING FULL BOARD ON THE DELUSIONAL LAND BESTIE I KNEW YOU WERE BAD BUT THIS IS ON A WHOLE NEW TIER OF BADNESS OORAUGJ😟💥💥

HIS ATTACKS ARE SO COOL AAAAAA I WAS AMAZED AND SCARED THE WHOLE TIME I CANT WAIT TO MEET HIM ON TWST EN OMGGG😩🙏🙏

■

byeee i never wrote a reaction post as long as this before KDJKAKD

theyre really dropping the obvious hints that crowley is a fae alright....⁉️⁉️👀👀

THE ALL AWAITED GENERAL VANROUGE REVEALLL!!!!!! im just.... oh... have we all PROPERLY look at him??? RIGHT NOW IM STILLLL SAVORING ALL THOSE DETAILS!!! MY GOODNESS---

i basically sped read allllll the musings twst twt and tumblr have been swooning about him and OH HE DESERVES ALL THE ADMIRATION 🙏🙏🙏ESPECIALLY HIS MAGIC AT HIS ENTRANCE!!!!!! ARE U KIDDING THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFULLL THE BATS SWAYING AND THE RED SPARKLES BEFORE HE TELEPORTED?????? SHIT I WOULDVE PASSED OUT FROM AMAZEMENT RIGHT THEN AND THERE-- BEGGING ON MY KNEES TO GET THAT ANIMATED 😩😩😩🙏🙏

AND IT ALL ENDED JUST LIKE THAT AAAIUSIAUSU!!!!! 😩😩😩 I WANT MORE BUT AAAA too much information will make me overload now akdjksd another long few more months before part 4 releases 😳😳 AND OOO I CANNOT WAITTT

=

my prediction is that theyre delving more into briar valleys history in the lens of Lilia's past.

My interpretation is that Lilia's dream related to his past is bcs he kind of whispered to himself that the reason hes leaving is because of his weakening state and how he doesnt want to wish anyone to see him like that.... I guess his wish was that he could be as strong as he was before... Really reminds me of Mulan's father 😭

IM WISHING DESPERATELY FOR MORE YUU RELATION NEXT PART AND THIS TWITTER THREAD SUMS UP ALL MY SPECULATIONS AS TO WHY YUU ISNT INVOLVED IN THE DREAMS WE HAVE SO FAR

"malleyuu divorce" is my fave phrase from op from now on lol

livestream of book 7 part 3

#twst spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 #twst #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twistedwonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst theory #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #twst yuu #twst grim #disney twst #twst wonderland

[star-light-imagines]

Bakugo x quirkless reader that uses alot of support items to get by in the hero course. (Gender neutral)

Bakugo and the reader spar for the first time and the reader ends up beating him.

How would bakugo end up reacting to the loss?

┊ ┊ ⋆˚  Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! This was my first time writing a battle scene so I got really excited.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ The reader is part class 1-B and they end up sparing during the joint training arc, bakugo's team doesn't win this time around.

Notice Me.

⋆ ★ Included- katsuki bakugo x reader. class 1-A/class 1-B training arc. season 5 spoilers. battle scenes. eventual fluff. bonus content.

⋆ ☆ Warnings- gn! reader. katsuki bakugo cussing. !season 5 spoilers! tense battle scenes. blood. bakugo mildly hurt. reader mildly hurt.

⋆ ★ Word Count- 4,972

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

'You're quirkless.'

'Pick another dream kid.'

'Give up already.'

'Don't you get it? You will never be a hero.'

The memories coursed through your mind on repeat, throughout your whole life there has never been one person who truly thought you could become a hero, much less get accepted into the U.A. Hero Course. You had never let other people's opinions deter you, being a hero was your dream and you weren't going to give up no matter how hard you fought for it.

After you didn't develop a quirk at five years old your parents had taken you to the doctor, only for you to be diagnosed as quirkless. You had been devastated at first, but you never gave up hope that you could still become a hero and the major reason why you decided to keep going was Best Jeanist.

You've always looked up to Best Jeanist, even before you found out you were quirkless. He wasn't as flashy or strong as All Might but watching him made you feel that anything was possible as long as you worked for it. He became a goal for you to reach and eventually surpass someday, and you never looked back as you continued to fight and claw inch by inch towards that finish line.

After the U.A. Sports Festival, The number 4 hero had sent a request for you to intern with him and you had been over the moon for days. How could you not be? Your favorite hero noticed you and saw enough potential in you to take you into his agency and mentor you. The excitement did die down when you noticed Bakugo was there as well, you would watch him from afar. You had already realized how strong the explosive blonde was from the festival and was amazed at the sheer amount of strength he possessed.

Something about Katsuki Bakugo reminded you of all the people who would refuse to notice your determination, your strength towards becoming a hero and take it seriously. He never once looked at you during the festival or the internship, as if he didn't even realize you were there. While you would get on site training, he would be getting reformed. The image of any angry pomeranian at the groomers had you holding back laughter each time you saw him with combed hair.

Nevertheless, over the months you kept watching from the sidelines as he grew stronger and faced each challenge with ease. The sight stirred at your heart, he was motivating you to try even harder than you already were. The gap widened between you two, the sinking feeling in your heart as you raced to reach where he was but never quite getting there was gnawing at you.

If I could just get him to look at me...

Determination rushed through your veins as you prepared for your match. Bakugo was a fierce opponent when it came to strength , speed, and intellect. If your team was going to win, you would have to have a strategy. The team circled, mumbling in hushed voices over what the best course of action was.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Togaru doubted.

"It has to." Setsuna assured him.

"I believe it will work, especially with y/n on the team." Kojiro boasted with praise.

"Thank you Kojiro, I won't let you down. I won't let any of you down. We will win for sure."

A stern look overtook your features, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched as you focused. A gentle hand on your shoulder broke you from your thoughts, Setsuna smiled warmly at you, her eyes softening upon meeting yours.

"You don't need to prove anything to us y/n, we know how strong you are. This plan won't work without you, so let's show class 1-A how much we've grown okay?!"

A bright smile formed on your lips as you all happily started to walk to the beginning position for the match in Ground Gamma.

Confidence started to take over the insecure thoughts that had once plagued your mind, you have worked just as hard as anyone else if not more. You had gotten stronger, found equipment that was more essential than before and honed in on your skills. This is your chance at proving without a doubt you deserved the spot you have the hero course.

Maybe if I can get him to notice me then...

If I could finally get him to acknowledge me...

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　

The bitter winter wind buzzed around the students as the groups from Class 1-A and Class 1-B got into position. Bakugo's team was desperately still trying to come together with a plan in the last few moments before the match began.

"They have y/n, so it would be easiest to capture them first! However since they are the weakest link they might hide, Jiro could always use her quirk to locate them though." Sero contemplated deep in thought.

"I don't think y/n will be as easy to capture as you think, they are definitely stronger than back at the sports festival." Jiro breathed out.

The conversation finally caught Bakugo's attention from where he was standing, he gazed at the group before him and scoffed in annoyance.

"Heh! Who?"

"Jesus Bakugo, do you even remember anyone from class 1-B? Y/N the quirkless student who was using all the support items in the sports festival." Sero sighed in annoyance, then explained.

"You're worried about a quirkless wannabe? Are you kidding me?!"

He clicked his tongue with frustration , crimson red eyes glaring holes into his teammates before he continued.

"We leave them for last, they are obviously going to rely on their team for safety so we take it from them. Now listen up, this is what we are going to do."

Bakugo demanded their attention while laying out his plans for the match ahead, making sure everyone knew their roles in the team and that he would be the one to lead them to victory. Soon after he finished explaining, the siren blared through Ground Gamma causing both teams to rush into action.

He charges through the arena, deafening explosions shaking the ground as he goes. His eyes quickly darted over the area searching for the rival team as he moved further ahead from his group, he glanced over his shoulder to see them racing to keep up with his increasing speed. A large smirk formed on his lips, his ash blonde hair covering his eyes as he looked down for a moment with satisfaction at the team following his lead.

Movement from the corner of his eyes caught his attention, breaking his prideful thoughts and returning his attention to the battle ahead of them.

THERE!" Bakugo roared letting out a loud explosion from his palm as he placed himself on a pipe below his feet. "EARS!"

"It's Jiro!"

His eyes scanned the area as he waited for her to locate the whereabouts for their opponents, The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the tension in the air grew thick through the silence. His hands crackled in anticipation of an attack at any moment, when Jiro's voice broke his concentration.

"SHE GOT ME!" She screamed eyes wide in frustration at the realization they were in a trap.

Bakugo grunted out a non verbal response before Setsuna voice appeared next to him, he quickly reacted throwing his arm defensively towards the voice only to see a mouth talking to him. Cackles echoed off the metal pipes as Setsuna laughed at bewilderment she had caused in the explosive blonde, noticing how his red eyes had gone wide at the use of her quirk.

"It's over now, I used Jiro's search ability against her." Setsuna snickered in glee.

Sero acted quickly, his tape zigzagged the structures surrounding them acting as a barricade and a form of protection from the other team. His pulse raced with adrenaline as his eyes searched the area, keeping a lookout for their blind spots when he noticed movement not too far away.

"Bakugo, over here!"

The blonde snarled out in annoyance at the trap his team had been led into, his brows knitted and his nostrils flared as he breathed out in frustration.

Kojiro had taken his opportunity to spread adhesive glue on Sero's tape and surrounding area, effectively trapping them in the confined space they occupied.

"Shoot, it backfired!" Sero bleated.

A sharp sound of metal scraping had attracted their attention towards Togaru who was heading towards the pipes directly over their heads. He sliced through the pipes effortlessly, sending them flying down towards the team. The pipes were ones specifically attached with Sero's tape and the adhesive glue, the realization hit them that if they were to be touched that would be the end of the match.

Sato, prepared to sacrifice himself in order for the others to get away, rushed in front of Sero and Jiro, hands raised in anticipation from the collision. Explosions blasted the sliced metal away with a resounding silence as the pipes crashed into the ground, scattered debris flying from the harsh impact. Sato's eyes widened as he turned to see Bakugo's hands still outstretched towards him while he dogged Setsuna's body parts.

"Bakugo!" They cheered in amazement.

"I'll start with Jiro!" Togaru advertised, as he rushed towards the girl.

Jiro gasped as the hard boot came into contact with her back pushing her out of the way of impact. Bakugo's palms crackled as he lined up his hand with the blade user, his voice thundered off the walls as he set off multiple rounds of explosions.

"I'VE GOTTEN EVEN STRONGER!"

The team recuperated for a moment while the other group stalled in their attacks, taking in the information they gained about Class 1-B from the brief capture attempt. Anger and determination etched into Bakugo's face as his pupils flared with rage, a muscle in his jaw clenched tightly as he spoke.

"I've decided. I will have complete victory in every fight"

"4-0, no injuries! That's how someone who's really strong wins!"

Motivation renewed among his teammates as they listened to his determination, they rushed forward into action once more. Bakugo explosions propelled him into the air as he maneuvered his way around the terrain, wild red eyes searching for his first victim. Sero watched in amazement while eyebrows furrowed in thought, his mind plaguing him that something about the situation at hand was wrong.

"Jiro, are you able to pinpoint y/n's location?" He questioned suddenly.

"Huh? Wait, no I don't hear them at all."

"I have a bad feeling about this. that sneak attack would have been the perfect moment for them to show up and assist the team, don't you think?"

"Maybe you were right in the beginning and they are safely hidden away?" She repeated his words from before the match as her shoulders lifted slightly.

"Hm." His eyes looked into the distance while his mind raced to piece together their strategy.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　

Bakugo chased after Kojiro blind with rage as sent explosions flying towards the glue hero who kept escaping narrowly. His explosive bursts of smoke had constricted his vision as he was led down a dark pathway, not paying as much attention to his surroundings as he should have been.

You were perched high on a steel 6ft staff that you placed in preparation between the two buildings. The area allowed enough darkness to block your figure from view if the opponent was moving fast enough to not look carefully, the black stealth bodysuit as your hero costume also aided in the ability to hide from searching eyes.

The explosions rumbled through Ground Gamma, the closer he got to your location the more the buildings shook from the force. You breathed in slightly, your movements still balanced on the staff as you concealed your presence to the oncoming threat. You watched from above as your gaze calmly landed on Bakugo, the fierce blonde being led right into your trap. Kojiro spun around on his heels, suddenly throwing Bakugo off guard as he escaped to the roof above.

"KEH! STOP RUNNING YOU COWARD!" Bakugo snarled nostrils flaring as he reached out his palm to the retreating figure in his view.

"I would be more worried about yourself." You whispered , your hands gripping the staff as you whirled your body around picking up momentum from the sudden movement before releasing your grip and hurling yourself towards him.

Your foot inched closer towards him as you posed for maximum impact, he narrowly dodged moments before your foot would have hit his spine. Your lightweight steel toe boots instead made contact with the wall behind him, the impact caused the cement to crack as the building rumbled at the force dust and debris filling the air around you.

His face contorted into a scowl hiding the brief moment of shock that rushed through his facial features. He hadn't noticed you and wasn't expecting the attack you had launched at him, the only thing that had saved him was his impressive response time to your movements. He eyed you through the smoke, your eyes were trained on him, calm and unnerving that caused his mind to race.

Who is this extra?!

Why wasn't I able to sense their presence until moments before the attack?

His eyes examined the damage to the wall and how there was now a crumbling hole where your foot had made impact, the ground still shaking from the force you had used.

Did you have a power type quirk?

He couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something as he analyzed the opponent before him, you seemed familiar in a way as he continued to stare at you in silence. Your h/c blowing around your face from the cold wind, causing your cheeks to turn a rosy hue just barely noticeable under the slim fabric of the mask covering the area around your e/c eyes and top of your cheekbones. You had seemed so oddly familiar but as he searched through his memories he couldn't quite place you, it irritated him further as he gritted his teeth sending rapid fire explosions your way.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

The steel staff had dislodged from its place between the buildings upon the quaking from the ongoing battle. It fell towards the ground collapsing into its condensed travel form, you maneuvered through the explosions as you retrieved the staff hitting the button on the side for it to extend back out. As the rod rushed out into the 6ft length once more it had hit the ground launching you to a safe distance away from the explosions. You took a quick breath before flipping your wrist and aiming towards a position behind Bakugo's line of vision, the Kevlar Wrist Shooter shot out a thin thread and dart at an incomprehensible speed. His eyes couldn't keep up with your movements as the strong thread swung you along, it barely being noticeable to the naked eye without light reflecting off the thread and with the darkness of the area it seemed almost invisible.

"You've lost Bakugo. Give up now." you declared suddenly showing up at his side the steel staff raised defensively against his neck.

He scoffed. "Are you afraid you face me head on?! You keep fucking attacking when my back is turned!"

He side turned to face you amusement played on his lips before he grabbed the staff with one hand and sent a powerful explosion towards your face sending you flying backwards. The staff was ripped from your hands as he threw it far in the distance.

"AH! I KNOW NOW!" He jeered, eyes blazing widely in your direction as your head hit the ground.

"You must be the quirkless wannabe! HAHA!" He mocked with a laugh as he watched you lay on the ground, the explosion had ripped your mask in half revealing more of your face.

"I'm not going to go easy on you just because you are quirkless, prepare to die!" His voice boomed out as he moved towards you recklessly.

His movements stopped suddenly, the silence filling the air after his voice had died out. You looked up at him barely containing the happiness you were feeling in that moment, a smirk forming as you took in his confused expression when his movements were constricted.

"I wouldn't move too much! It's thin kevlar thread, the strongest thread available on the market, can't melt and it's basically unbreakable. Since it's so fine the more you struggle and force your way out the more harm you'll do to your body, so if you don't want to lose that arm stop struggling."

When you had first picked the spot of the trap, you had placed a few lines of kevlar in different areas to confine him from leaving easily once he got there, and once you had him trapped you had placed reinforcements all around him to suppress his movements even more. He just needed to get tangled in one in order for your plan to come into fruition, there wouldn't be much he could do after that.

"FUCK OFF!" He roared out in frustration, his wrist snapping against the thin thread he tangled himself into as he let out more rounds of explosions.

Blood trickled down from the cuts forming on his arms at the movement as he hissed in pain. You finally stood up recovering from the earlier blow to your head, you glanced his way and sighed in annoyance knowing he wouldn't make this easy.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" He screamed pulling the pin on his gauntlets letting out a powerful explosion.

He managed to escape from his unseen bindings during the explosion, shredding the sleeves of his costume in the process and destroying one of his gauntlets. He breathed heavily the stinging pain darting through his body not only from over using his quirk, but from the thin cuts the thread had caused over the length of his arms and legs.

His mouth twisted into rage as he took in the damage you had caused, pops crackled in his palms as his fingers twitched in anticipation.

A quirkless nobody had trapped him.

No, a quirkless nobody had managed to make him bleed!

The thought caused his blood to boil as anger flooded his thoughts, he raced towards you lifting his remaining gauntlet as he pulled the pin aimed in your direction. You had narrowly escaped the wild attempt at you before dozens of separate explosions went off around you, the sheer force of them sending you flying as the debris ripped at your skin and costume.

Blood trickled down a cut on your cheek, dirt and dust covering you head to toe as you coughed out viciously grasping onto air. Your body had been thrown into one of your own kevlar traps causing the threads to sting at your skin from the impact.

"You aren't the only one who knows how to set a trap! While you were busy maneuvering from my explosions to get your staff I placed grenade bombs around the area!" He boasted in pride.

Upon looking at your beat up figure he scoffed at the sight of your broken wrist shooters, he had purposely aimed for them in the last explosion after realizing how they worked.

"KEH! Without your equipment you have nothing, you are nothing!" He taunted as he walked closer.

"That's not true!" You bite back acidly.

"It is, you have no weapons left! You are just a useless excuse of a hero!"

The taunting echoed through your mind as you screamed in frustration, he was only a few steps away from you now lifting up his hand to pull the finishing move. The cuts on your arms bleed heavily as you ripped them from the tangled trap of thread they had been placed in, you will yourself to move through the piercing pain as you stomped your feet hard on the cement ground. Your boots buzzed as they let out a whoosh of air impact propelling you into the air as you aim your steel knuckle duster towards your target.

The momentum rushed towards Bakugo at an unexpected speed, he had no time to counteract as your fist made an impact with his face. The slim steel knuckle duster sending out a cracking sound before the impact of the punch caused the stun gun add on to react. Within seconds it released a bright light of electricity as it ran through Bakugo's body, his muscles contracted from the sudden onslaught of electricity coursing through his veins as he fell to the ground.

You had stumbled to your feet as the air lift your boots had given you ran out and your body started to grow unsteady at the blood loss. Hands defensively reached out in preparation for another attack from the explosive blonde only to be met with silence. Your eyes glanced towards the ground where he was groaning in pain trying to move his body.

"MY NAME IS Y/N AND I AM A HERO!" You shout with as much energy as you can muster as you lean against a wall for support.

His eyes darted towards your lazily as he faded in and out of consciousness, taking in your battered worn out form with the tired bright smile placed on your lips. He grunted in response frustrated as he tried to move his arms but they wouldn't listen to his desperate command.

"You notice me yet Bakugo!? I'm as much of a threat as Todoroki is for the number one spot, don't ever forget that!"

He faded out of consciousness at your proclamation, darkness over taking his thoughts with the last thing he saw being your face beat up but bubbled with laughter. The bright e/c eyes shining in the light as a few stray tears rolled down your cheeks in satisfaction of your achievement.

Notice you?

Of course he noticed you.

How could he ever not notice you?

How did he go so long without realizing your existence?

Not only were you quirkless but in the hero course, you were somehow stronger than him. Managing to bring him down with your strategic planning and willpower to succeed, even if you had to use support equipment to do it there were plenty of people he's fought with quirks and tools and they had still lost against him. However, you were different from them and did the impossible proving how strong you truly were.

Watching you throughout the battle motivated him, pushed him to keep going. He wanted to do better, prove to you he could throw back anything you threw at him, not hold back punches no matter how much of a monster he may look like against a quirkless student. He would have to rematch you eventually, and then he will show you just how much stronger he had gotten from this match.

His thoughts raced back to you and how you shined beautifully among the unsettled smoke, how your happy smile stirred something in his heart that he couldn't quite place in the darkness of his subconscious.

So beautiful.

You are so beautiful and powerful.

He hated losing, but maybe it wasn't so bad to lose to you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　

｡･ﾟﾟ･ Bonus Scene:

Class 1-A and 1-B had decided to celebrate the hard work shown in the joint training session with a party. The dormitory was filled with laughter as the students mingled and gushed over each other's abilities they had shown hours before.

Bakugo watched you from afar as you laughed lightheartedly at something Setsuna had said, your cheeks still rosy from enduring the cold weather for so long outside. A jab at his side forced him to turn his gaze away from you and to the red haired intrusion now at his side.

"What do you want 'shitty hair'?" He barked his question out.

Kirishima laughed in response as he placed his arm over the blonde's shoulders, glancing at you from across the room before making eye contact with the red eyes glaring at him with annoyance.

"Geez lighten up! It's a party!"

Bakugo scoffed in response at the attempt.

"How about you go talk to y/n then instead of watching them from the corner like a stalker."

"How about you say that again and I'll make sure you can never walk again!"

The red haired boy laughed unbothered by his friends' harsh words, instead choosing to find the humor in them. He patted his shoulder as he moved away from him and took a few steps towards your direction causing the scowl Bakugo was sporting to falter a bit.

"Where are you going?" He asked cautiously.

"To meet y/n! I haven't gotten to actually introduce myself to them yet and they seem nice."

"No."

"No?" Kirishima questioned amused.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and stomped his feet as he walked towards you. He lifted his chin towards Kirishima as he passed him with annoyance clear on his face.

"I'll go talk to them, so you just leave us both alone."

"Of course!" He replied happily.

Setsuna's eyes had widened at the sight of Bakugo walking towards them, voice going silent in the middle of her sentence forcing you to look towards what had caught her attention. He was angrily stomping as he walked, crimson eyes making direct contact with yours causing your heart to flutter at the intense gaze.

He's actually noticing me now, not just oblivious to my existence like before.

He stopped a few steps from you, letting out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. His hand reached back out towards you, waiting for a handshake in return so you placed your hand in his as you shook hands on a truce.

A smile brightly lit up your face as the two of you started to go over tactics and strategies used in the match.

"You did good today." He said softly, looking away from your eyes as he spoke.

"Thank you! So did you!" Heat rushing to your cheeks at the unexpected words.

The two of you paused for a moment in awkward silence, neither knowing how to carry on the conversation from moments before.

"Your support items were well thought out, do you have more?" He asked, breaking the silence, eyes still trained on his other classmates away from you.

"Yes! I really have tons! The older ones or the ones that I don't find as useful stay in my room, but I like having a variety I can choose from for different situations." You rambled bubbly, excited at explaining your items clearly.

"Can I see them sometime?"

The breath got stuck in your throat as you gasped lightly not expecting him to ask that question so suddenly.

"Yes!" You eventually mumble out looking away from him as well in embarrassment.

Setsuna watched the awkward and clumsy exchange from the sidelines and not being able to take the tension anymore from the both of you she interjected with a swift topic change.

"You two must have learned a lot of Best Jeanist when you both were interns there."

Bakugo's eyes widened as his gaze darted back to you, meeting your flustered face and wide e/c eyes staring back at him.

"You were at Best Jeanist too?"

"Yes, you didn't exactly acknowledge me back then." You laugh shyly in response.

"I notice you now."

Extra Bonus Content:

The Support Items I thought of for the character, even though not all of them made an appearance these were in my mind for the character throughout the scene.

Pocket staff- Extends into a steel 6ft staff, its heavy & sturdy enough to be used for combat and stealth attacks. (Placing staff in high areas and waiting for the enemy to walk under in order to sneak attack.) Attaches to the belt loop in compact form as a keychain for easy access.

Steel Stun Gun Knuckle Dusters- Slim compact Knuckle dusters that go over your gloves, upon hard impact with surface or person it releases a stun voltage.

Kevlar Wrist Shooters- Two compact wrist shooters that have 50ft of fine kevlar thread and darts that will hook them to any surface. This makes a good capture weapon as well as a movement tool because you can essentially hook the thread to various buildings and swing.

Air Lift Boots- Lightweight ankle boots with steel toe that has the ability to lift the user with a large force of air gusting out from the heel upon stomping the heel with enough force. This helps with speed and movement and in a pinch can work as a double sided weapon / escape tool.

Mask with Night Vision Adaptation- Eye mask that has automatic adaption feature in the dark for night vision.

Utility pouch strapped to thigh- holds fog marbles, compact laser , and emergency aid

Fog Marbles- Marbles that once smashed create a dense fog for 3 minutes to either assist in sneak attack or escape method.

Compact Laser- A small flashlight looking laser that can cut through hard and soft surfaces. Very good for stealth missions where you have to enter an area without much noise.

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

⋆ ☆ A/N- I was definitely nervous writing the fighting scenes, I hope it turned out okay for everyone. Also, when I started this I wasn't sure which way I wanted to go with it but I'm pretty happy with how It turned out.

Feel free to send in requests, I have them open.

#katsuki bakugo imagines #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #bakugo imagines #bakugo headcanons #bakugo fanfic #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou headcanons #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fanfiction #katsuki bakugou fanfic #katsuki bakugo hcs #katsuki bakugou hcs #bakugou katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki imagine

[megumi-fm]

👾 megumi.fm ▸ stats for this fortnight (+ 29th & 30th Apr)

—🎓 a c a d e m i c 🎓—

⭐ Level: bi in biotechnology Challenge 1: undergrad course completion ✅ transcript related paperwork ✅ prep for last set of internal papers 🔄 prep for last set of finals 🔄 internship presentation-related work 🔓 Achievement Unlocked >> presentation microscopy — completed internship presentation — spent more than 6hrs tweaking irrelevant minor details 🔄 internship report--related work Challenge 2: graduate matriculation ✅ offer letter acceptance tasks [3/3] 🔒 ???? — tasks locked till end May Challenge 3: GRE prep ✅ acquired all the required resources 🔄 study

—💻 w o r k 💻—

🎯 bi-weekly challenge complete! ✅ visualization on cytoscape ✅ use updated TCDB set to rerun pipeline ↳ used parent pocket from tool for analysis 📌next week’s task: binding site alignment using updated dataset [💬all phase1 challenges] [💬ongoing phase2 challenges] 2/6 months of remaining internship to unlock achievement —⚗️sorcerer’s apprentice

—💊 u s e r - s t a t s 💊—

key: ◆ - completed / ◇ - not done 📅 tracking [◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆] 🔓 Achievement Unlocked >> daily bicycle violence 🚲 — completed #20daysofapril breaking the cycle challenge — successful daily tracking for all days of april 🍶 1.5L+ water [◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆] 🍉 daily fruit intake [◇◇◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◇◆] 🍳 been cooking a lot more

— 🎲 r e c r e a t i o n 🎲 —

📺 watched Bad Buddy 📖 (re)read Foul Lady Fortune 🔖 started art journalling 👟learning Dash by NMIXX // was paused due to workload

— 🎵 s o u n d t r a c k 🎵 —

🍁navigating in-game universe // comfort music BBIBBI by IU Some by BOL4 🧨action scenes xD // motivation fuel First by Everglow Maestro by SVT 🔥hottest it girl moments // addicting brainworms Masquerade by Chung Ha Top or Cliff by Kim Sejeong

[15th - 30th Apr; week 17+18/52 || i decided to continue with last fortnight's game format because I loved it so much <3 i never thought I'd get around to updating this before the end of this week but i managed to do it pheww. i got quite a lot done in the past fortnight and I'm kind of proud of myself ^=^]

#52wktracker #studyblr #study blog #studyspo #stemblr #stem student #study goals #student life #college student #studying #stem studyblr #adhd studyblr #adhd student #study motivation #100 days of productivity #study inspo

[gilbirda]

The Vampire Bat

For DPxDC Week!

Day 1: Lazarus Pit.

[Read on AO3]

---

Jazz met him for the first time when she was doing that internship years ago. It had been a once-in-a-lifetime chance and she bet everything she had on making a good impression on the Arkham Asylum director.

(For whatever good it did, because even if she had made an impression she had to leave Gotham before the end of her internship. Danny needed her.)

She found him hurt and alone, with death all over him, still smelling like graveyard dirt.

He couldn’t be much younger than her, even if he was tall and very fit under the burial black suit.

Jazz followed him around, half wondering how a revenant was walking the streets of Gotham and half keeping an eye so he wouldn’t find a quick second death. She wanted to see as well if the guy, like all revenants, instinctively walked home or a familiar place - if he had loved ones that gave a light on the mystery, she wanted to talk to them.

Soon he was picked up and brought to a hospital, where he would be properly taken care of.

She hoped she wouldn't meet him again, but if she did, she wanted to solve this mystery.

***

Jazz met him again by chance, some years later.

She was on a forced vacation after Danny complained she was too bossy and he was a grown man now and ‘I don’t need you breathing down my neck all the time!’ and ugh-

So. Yeah. She was subtly sent a link to the Arkham Asylum job portal and details about her new flashy apartment in the city. Completely furnished.

Subtlety was not Danny’s (or his friends’) specialty.

So here she was trying to figure out if she wanted to go back to her dream or not, and if she really could just walk back in and ask for a second chance, when she felt him.

Her senses had gotten sharper with time - her liminality ramping up in the time it took Team Phantom to settle Danny as the ruler of the Infinite Realms. Somewhere along the way they accepted the fact that neither of them was completely human anymore, with Jazz herself embracing it rather easily given the circumstances.

Her only complaint? Having to consume ectoplasm regularly to compensate for her inability to make the stuff herself.

That’s why when she sensed the revenant from years ago, she could pinpoint his location easier than she did when she was younger.

She sniffed him out, finding that his smell had changed with time - the baseline graveyard dirt stink was still there, just buried under the most potent ectoplasmic fragrance she ever detected in the Living world.

He was not a ghost. He still had the warm middletones of a Living creature. But he was familiar enough to make her mouth water.

Jazz watched him, carefully following him around as he walked around the isles in the Classical section of Gotham’s Public Library. Everything he touched, everything he breathed at, smelled so deliciously that she got sidetracked imagining how he would taste.

She needed to know.

So bad.

Maybe this vacation thing wasn’t that awful of an idea after all.

***

She found him again, but in the craziest way possible. Also, maybe she had found out one of the city’s biggest secrets by accident.

Her mystery guy was a vigilante.

Not that it changed anything for her, mind you; it even made things more exciting. If he was used to the weird stuff going on in Gotham then she could approach him more directly and not lose time in silly games.

Once again she followed him around like a, well, like a ghost, having fun with the chase around the rooftops without him noticing. Or maybe he did? Sometimes she caught him looking around at the shadows, stopping to check them before doing his next jump.

It wasn’t until a few nights later, when she had to stop her chase to talk to some very lost ghosts that didn’t know they were dead, that her little game came to an end.

The click of the gun, once upon a time, would have made her heart stop for a moment. Now she knew it wouldn’t actually kill her, just push her officially to the other side of her Life/Dead status.

She turned, her hands lifted in the air.

“Who are you and why are you following me.” He growled. His aura did a flare that was supposed to scare her, but she had seen worse. One wasn’t the Princess of the Dead without fistfighting a few gods here and there.

She smiled softly, lowering her hands. “You noticed me?”

“I’m the one asking questions.” Red Hood didn’t lower the gun. “You have to answer.”

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” Jazz's chuckle was lost in the cold Gotham breeze. “I thought I would never see you again and then I did and there’s something about you-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He growled.

“Oh, right, you don’t know me. It was… four years ago? I think. Yeah, four years. You were wandering around and revenants are vulnerable, so I watched you-”

“What?” He really liked to interrupt people, huh.

“Revenant? A type of undead. Not actually a zombie,” she rolled her eyes, offended, “those are a different thing.”

“You knew me? Four years ago?”

“Yes? Not, like, know, know you. I was in the neighborhood and sensed death on you and I needed to check.” She sniffed again, walking a bit closer. The gun was still pointed in her direction, but he didn’t move. “Something’s changed, though. You smell like death but also less like death, and more like ectoplasm. Were you revived?”

He tensed. So yes, someone revived him. His loved ones? She should know if there was a magician powerful enough, and with access to this much ectoplasm, in the city.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You mean you don’t sense me?”

His silence was enough.

“Oh well, how about now?”

She let her tight control of her aura go for a moment. It wasn’t a good idea to broadcast her status and power all the time, especially if she wanted to keep a low profile. Also, the Spirit of Gotham had let her into her city, but Jazz didn’t want to push it with a power play - she may be the Princess, but Gotham was older and her claim was stronger.

“Holy shit.” Red Hood flinched, putting away his gun. Then, he took the helmet off to look at her with his own eyes. “You feel just like the Lazarus Pit.”

“The what?”

Both looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“You really don’t know?” He insisted, frowning. “The League of Shadows?” She shook her head. “Ra’s al Ghul?” She shook her head again. “Immortal guy that has been using the Lazarus Pit to artificially extend his lifespan?”

Okay that rang a bell. “And has a creepy cult of assassins and lives in a mountain?”

He chuckled at her wording. “That guy.”

“I know of him. We’ve been looking into his case for a while.”

“We?” He arched an eyebrow. “Are you the death police?”

“I’m the Princess of the Ghosts, actually.”

He stopped and looked at her as if he were considering she was joking or trying to mock him. After a few seconds of pondering, he shrugged and rolled with it.

“And what does the Princess want with me? Take me back to the Afterlife?” By his little smile, he wasn’t taking this seriously. Did he think she was not being honest? What was the point of lying?

“If I wanted to take your soul I would already have done so,” she took a step closer. If she wanted, she could jump on him and take that sweet smelling ectoplasm, but she behaved. No need to act like a barbarian. “I just thought you smelled nice.”

He didn’t expect that. His cheeks turned a bit red. “That’s the worst pickup line ever. Very creepy.”

“Who said anything about pickup lines?” She slowly reached and brushed a bit of his hair away from his neck, the movement sending that sweet smell in her direction. “I’ve never encountered this scent and I’m curious.”

There was recognition in his eyes. He knew there was something different about him.

“Let’s say there’s an explanation for that. What would you do?”

What wouldn’t she do?

“If it’s harmful for you, I’d find a way to help and then kindly ask you if you are interested in a bit of fun." By the way his eyebrows rose, he got what she meant. "If not, then I want to kindly ask you if you are interested in a bit of fun and if you could let me take a sip."

"Are you- Are you like a vampire?"

She hummed, amused by the comparison. This wasn't the first time someone made a comment. Maybe she was a vampire after all, just not hungry for blood but for ectoplasm.

"Not for human blood.” If her smile hinted at her pointy teeth, it wasn’t on purpose. “So that’s a no?”

His smile was devious when he answered: “I never said I was against it.”

---

Back to the Main Archive

Back to Danny Phantom Archive

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#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman dc #dc comics #dc x dp #anger management ship #jazz x jason #jazz/jason #DP/DC WEEK 2022

[nakianshuri]

Not to wade too deeply in the "Nancy is selfish/always right posts" I've being seeing lately, but I don't think that's the problem with how Nancy is written.

Yes, when it comes to the plot and solving mysteries, Nancy is always right. But Dustin is mostly if not always right, too, and so is Robin. The show has a lot of characters who are right about things. But all of those other characters get to have moments of levity. Moments where the show isn't taking them so seriously. Robin is brilliant and always right, but she rambles, she's awkward, she talks to Steve about things unrelated to the plot. Dustin is brilliant and drives a lot of the plot because he's always right, but he's also awkward, funny, a know-it-all who needs to be humbled sometimes, and gets to engage in conversations and activities unrelated to the plot.

El is another character who I'd say is mostly if not always right and the most traumatized character on the show, but she gets moments to be fun, funny, and has scenes completely unrelated to the plot. S3 gave her an entire montage of trying on clothes at the mall for no reason except to show her gaining a friend and building up her own voice and identity.

We arguably don't see this with Nancy. When it comes to her emotional life outside of her trauma and the plot, she's underwritten. We never see her appear to enjoy herself as much as she did at Steve's pool party, when we're told through Jonathan and Barb that she pretending to be someone else. Right after Barb's death and then in the seasons afterwards when she's with Jonathan, we mostly if not only see one side of her: the driven and determined side, whether that's her on a crusade to get justice for Barb, or to be taken seriously at her summer internship, or when she's working on the school yearbook. There's no downtime, barely if any scenes of her and Jonathan talking about anything other than their shared trauma, the plot, and their career/academic goals. After season 1, we don't see her have a casual conversation with Mike what she's going through or what his life is like.

With the exception of talking about Steve and Jonathan, her conversations with Robin are about the plot. I mean, I have no problem with Robin and Nancy as friends, but why are they friends? Nancy was rude to Robin until she realizes she and Steve aren't dating, but perhaps Robin sees Nancy's unhappy and needs a friend? I'd accept that, but I'd also argue that Robin and Nancy's friendship is a lesser version of El and Max's. Both friendships start off with El and Nancy being rude to Max and Robin, respectively, out of jealousy. But we get to see Max and El become friends before the plot enters the story: El needs Max's help with boy problems, Max gives her advice, they bond, they play around at the mall, have a sleepover, then they get dragged into the plot. Robin and Nancy don't get that in part because of how s4 is structured, but also because we just don't get Nancy outside of her ambitions, shared trauma, and the plot. Nancy's not a character we ever see just hang out.

And lastly, Stancy. I love Stancy oddly enough because of the reason they broke up: it as the last time she got to be a stupid teenager like everyone else on the show. But for me it also works for me because the show has given Steve time apart from the plot to grow. I've seen some people say the show doesn't care enough about Steve, but I don't believe that at all. Sure, we haven't seen his parents, but his whole arc is about how he grows not only because of the plot but because of his relationships with other people: Nancy, Dustin, and Robin primarily. He's given a chance to be selfish, pigheaded, bitchy, dumb, and wrong, and then to apologize, be a good friend, be selfless, and wisely reflect on his behavior in a productive way that doesn't leave him stuck in a cycle of guilt about his past behavior. Nancy needs this same treatment. The majority of the self-reflection Nancy gets to do is about Barb, and its to wrongly blame herself for her death and to be stuck in avenging mode. She has a great conversation with her mom in which she seems to regret how she's disregarded Jonathan, but it's mostly there to reaffirm that she's right not for her to consider if she went about things the right way. We have also never heard her reconsider if she went about her relationship with Steve the right way either. Does she regret how that ended? Does she regret dating him for a year despite appearing to want Jonathan? We don't know.

I think Nancy is a fascinating character, and I never expect any show to be perfect or to replicate how I envision these characters. But I do hope that in its last season we get to see another side to her.

#nancy wheeler #stancy

[papayadays]

.:*[prologue]*:.

summary: lando x oc - when the fine line between engineer and driver blurs

a/n: eww i’m so bad at writing prologues but here you go, also for the summary tagline, i had to make sure it wasn’t cringe or cliche - took forever

but anyways, first bit of my new series!

warnings: a little bit of language used in an affectionate way, cutesy girl gang things

part 1/? in orange daisy series

“daisy moore, receiving a master of science in engineering!” daisy walked across the stage upon hearing her name called, a massive grin spread across her face. in her fancy — albeit cumbersome — gown, she grabbed the roll of paper and shook hands with those on stage. but whatever they were saying, daisy drowned them out. her own excitement overpowered their words.

“daisy and jade, say cheese!” kayla grinned holding up her phone, jolting daisy out of her thoughts. the three of them held up peace signs to the camera while showing their diplomas. “we finally graduated, bitch!” it was the end of the year and the three girls had all completed their master’s degree: daisy in mechanical engineering, kayla in marine biology, and jade in computer science. they had met in their first year at uni, and the three of them had become fast friends despite their varying nationalities. jade was british, kayla was australian, and daisy herself was american.

“tag us on your insta!” jade insisted, peering at kayla’s screen. “also, i forgot to mention this earlier, but girls’ night at my place? you know, for our graduation.”

“obviously!” daisy smiled. “we need to celebrate this moment, ladies. after this, our lives are going to change. not to be dramatic.”

“i’ll bring the champagne,” kayla sang.

[✧]

later that night, the three girls were at jade’s apartment, sitting on the couch. the champagne had yet to be opened because they were all busy watching the formula 1 race. daisy and jade were true fans, but kayla was only in it because they were. at least, that’s what daisy guessed.

“why is it so boring?” kayla mumbled. daisy shot her a dirty look.

“ahem, mind you, right now, the drivers are all spaced out. plus, it’s a tough track to overtake on,” she explained. daisy loved the sport more than anything, and was more than happy to explain to her friend.

“sure,” kayla said, dramatically rolling her eyes. as she got up, her hand flew to the back pocket of her shorts. “oh my god!”

“what’s happening, kay? did you get your period or something?” jade asked, eyebrows scrunched.

“no, but i got a notification,” kayla said frantically, whipping out her beach-themed phone.

daisy stared at her friend. what was the big deal about a notification? “unless it’s a family emergency or something like that, i don’t think it’s that big of a deal, kay kay,” she responded.

“no, you don’t understand,” the aussie replied. “it’s from heron island research station.” daisy looked at jade and they shared a glance. they knew why kayla was so frantic. heron island research station was an internship program in queensland, australia for aspiring marine biologists and kayla was one of the applicants. she had been waiting for news of acceptance for a month now.

daisy looked at her friend nervously, crossing her fingers. finally, kayla looked up. “well?” daisy probed. “did you get in?”

daisy saw kayla’s mouth stretch into a smile as she yelled, “i made it. let’s effing go!” jade and daisy both lunged at kayla, pulling them all into a group hug.

“daisy and i are so proud of you!” jade squealed. kayla’s smile was radiant, and daisy patted her friend on the head.

“slay, queen!” she snickered. kayla gave her the finger as a sudden look of realization dawned on her.

“hey, dais, what about your internships?” the australian asked. daisy’s eyes widened. she had totally forgotten about them. on a whim, she had applied for numerous internships, five to be exact.

“oh shoot, i forgot all about it!” she pulled out her phone and opened her email. besides the junk from stores and whatnot, she found two emails. “double the celebration then!”

#papayadays #f1 #lando norris #ln4 #formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #papaya writes #orange daisy