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14thgalerie · 8 months

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welcome to the library!

author's notes

any similarities with other works are purely coincidental, and not intended.

this is purely fictional. any name, institution, and other things mentioned in the story is fictional.

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💐 - author’s favourites

Marauder's Era;

James Potter

25 | [A, slight F] 💐

summary; from childhood innocence to warm, young love, James was surrounded by all forms of love. It was only a waiting game for the day he shared this promise to another, and he will bend and break his every bone to keep it.

25 - part 2 | [A]

summary; James is left to his own, unable to navigate through a life without her. Still, in his sorrow, he wonders if anything would be worth the suffering he put you through.

25 - part 3/alternate ending | [A, slight F]

summary; the tides have receded and all is calm and how it was.

shampoo thief | [F]

summary; in his bliss, James forgets a slight mishap before his accident, one that he was sure would be swept under the rug. he also forgets the fact that you can still be as terrifying when someone does something as trivial as stealing your shampoo.

i peeled my orange today | [A] 💐

summary; the show of love with a citrus fruit; and the hope that they never learn to do it.

Sirius Black

don't leave | [A]

summary; the hour of the attack on the potter's, Sirius heads straight to their house seeking an explanation for how it came to this. while, his wife, is left desperate as she pleads for him to stay by her side during a night where no one is safe.

Remus Lupin

quiet curiosity | [F]

summary; modern auror!remus is no friends with emotions. but one evening, he proves you wrong.

Tom Riddle

home | [A, slight F]

summary; In a chilling twist of events, you find your walls marred with splatters of crimson red, and at the epicenter stands your fiancé, a haunting nonchalance in his gaze.

Golden Trio's Era;

Theodore Nott

path to you | [A, F] 💐

summary; with a tumultuous past, Theo's life had always been marked by fear. his every thought and action overshadowed by his history, the darkness of his past ruining everything good in his life.

the one | [A, F, slight S]

summary; theodore wants to be the one, and you have no qualms about it.

dreamin' of him | [F, slight A ]

summary; you are consumed by not-so-innocent dreams that leaves you wide awake at night. however in the break of the morning light, an undeniable attraction blossoms that despite your friends' annoyance, you deny.

tell me why | [A, slight F]

summary; in a sudden and bewildering weekend, theo comes to find that you had severed your relationship without a reason at all. he is left wondering aimlessly for anything that will quall the barrage of questions that haunt him.

under pressure | [A]

summary; we all handle the pressure of exams differently, but you couldn't fully understand why a moment of celebration would have such a perplexing turn of events.

Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

he waits and he waits forever | [A]

summary; excerpt of pure agony for draco.

notes:

- some of my fics are unedited, hence there will be some slight error. if you notice any of them, please feel free to let me know so i could everyone’s reading experience better!

- i am horrible at writing synopsis', so i'm sorry already

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#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter angst #james potter fluff #sirius black angst #remus lupin fluff #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #tom riddle x reader

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apprentice-maliya · 3 years

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the things you don’t say, i’ll make them mine

pairing: asra/mali’ya cw: none, just some pre-plague, light angst and fluff because i am self-indulgent and i missed them. also stargazing (kinda). enjoy ! word count: 2.2k song(s): lover and the archer by taylor swift

With a snap of Asra’s fingers, the candles in the shop lit up all at once. The sudden light was almost blinding in their eyes, still used to the dark shades of the storm hovering above the city that merged into the soft, pink and orange hues of sundown. Behind him, Mali’ya sealed the door with a spell so that the rain wouldn’t get in, leaving at least the shop alone and dry.

The golden mark was still glowing on the wooden surface when she turned to her friend, pleased to see that he had already put the bags in a corner where they wouldn’t bother them. In the meantime, Faust had slowly emerged from the worn-out scarf he was wearing, and was now taking a careful peek at her surroundings.

Asra laughed, shaking his head to let the raindrops fall away from his white curls. “That was close.”

“Please don’t do that,” Mali’ya said, though she was soon betrayed by her own amusement when a small smile appeared on her lips. She gladly accepted Asra’s hands holding hers, shivering when the heat coming from his warming spell dried out any trace of damp in her clothes and her hair as well. Once he was done, Mali’ya sighed in relief.

“We should clean up,” she suggested, taking off her shoes since, in the hurry of getting inside and taking refuge from the storm, she’d forgotten to. “I’m sure we left some mud when we walked in.”

Asra waved a hand as to dismiss the option. “Or we could get away with it with little to no effort,” he suggested before the stains disappeared from the blue-coloured tiles with another snap of fingers, as if they’d never been there in the first place.

He rubbed his hands one against the other, giving her a satisfied look. “Easy peasy, right?” Asra grinned. “Now, let’s set up camp for the night.”

Mali’ya stared at the floor—she still wasn’t that accustomed to using magic to solve even the smallest inconvenience, and it showed—but upon hearing that, she glanced at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rummaging in their bags as he was probably searching for their blankets, Asra shrugged. “Seems like a waste of a lovely night to me, don’t you think?”

She could tell he was smiling while saying that, still Mali’ya hesitated. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the idea; on the contrary, she was eager to see what Asra had in store for her with that change of plans. After all, aside from the couple of nights she’d slept in the wild, on the run to Vesuvia with her aunt and her girlfriend, Mali’ya had no idea what camping really implied: Asra had told her about gathering your own food, sharing stories around the fireplace and stargazing as though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him, and, in hindsight, Mali’ya now realised that wasn’t but his everyday life. The life of someone who had nothing else in the world but himself.

In comparison, the years she’d spent in Venterre were a walk in the park.

Would you like to come live with me?

Her lips parted without her thinking. Once, almost a year back from that moment―a lifetime, really―her aunt had asked her that same, exact question. For the first time someone had brought up the possibility for her to dream, provided the instruments for her to make her own choices, and there she was, months later, living her happiest days in a place she’d learnt to call home.

All of that because at some point, someone cared.

It was truly that simple.

I could ask him now.

“Besides,” Asra added, silently commanding one end of a jute string to tie itself around the knob of the backroom door, before he pointed his digits towards the entrance handle for the other end to do the same, “I wanted to show you some cool tricks.”

Mali’ya watched as he tossed a sheet over the tensed thread, thinking that they definitely needed something heavy to secure the cloth on the floor if they wanted something close to a tent-shaped, homemade fort, or even one of her bedsheets so it would be easier to make it wider and more comfortable for the two of them.

All things considered, there was enough space in her room for another bed.

Finally, she spoke. “We should ask aunt—”

A voice coming down from the stairs interrupted her mid-sentence, before the thin silhouette of her tutor, neatly wrapped up in her frilly pink housecoat, appeared on the landing. “Ask me what?” She inquired, throwing them an inquisitive though sleepy glance.

“Sorry for waking you.” Mali’ya immediately apologised, bending down the string to approach her. “We were on the way to the clearing you showed us last time when the storm hit, and then we...”

In that moment, as to prove the truth in her words, a thunder echoed above them, followed by the even more violent sloshing of rainpour against the rooftop. Heralia looked up with a sigh, not at all impressed with the tantrums of summer, then noticed the blanket hanging sideways on the jute thread. “And I get that you don’t intend to give up on your stargazing, is that right?”

“That was my idea,” Asra stepped in, kneeling down to place one of the doorstops on the hem of the blanket. “You suggested that we studied the constellations in detail since the sky is clearer and it’s meteor shower season. Shall we perhaps postpone our lesson?” he challenged her, staring at his mentor with an innocent smile and a cunning glint in the eyes.

Heralia scoffed. “Do as you please, I don’t care.” A yawn ran past her lips, so she turned around with a shrug to climb up the stairs and go back to the comfort of her bed. “Just make sure you fall asleep at a reasonable hour and put everything back in place before opening, tomorrow.”

“We will, I promise.” Mali’ya nodded, surprised at how easily her aunt had given in this time. “Thank you, and goodnight.” Heralia hummed something in return that she didn’t quite catch, but since her mentor didn’t repeat herself Mali’ya supposed it was nothing important.

Clasping her hands together, she looked down at Faust, who was slithering around freely on the floor now that her aunt was gone. “Wait,” she told Asra, “Let’s use my bedsheets for the tent.”

- - -

Half an hour later, sitting comfortably amongst soft pillows and a couple of warm blankets, Mali’ya traced carefully each word printed on the astronomy book that lied open on her lap.

“What is…” she started, squinting in the dim glow of the small ball of light floating just above Asra’s hand. “What is an ‘Equinox’?”

“That’s when day and night have more or less the same duration,” he explained, stretching his limbs by her side like a cat that just woke up after a long nap. He couldn’t help a yawn. “Equinoxes mark the start of spring and autumn, so they happen twice a year.”

At that, something in Mali’ya’s chest fluttered with triumph. “Oh! I think I got it.”

With half-lidded eyes, Asra followed the movements of the quill in her personal journal as she wrote down the definition. “You want me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was nothing but a bashful whisper.

A hand ran up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded again, jade eyes steady on every letter in fear of messing them up. He couldn't really see it, but a hint of blush painted her cheeks with something akin to shame; there was still so much she had to learn after all, and since Asra was way ahead of her in terms of magic knowledge, she always felt like she was only slowing him down.

“How do you say that in Venterrean?”

She didn’t even lift her eyes from the page. “Rivnodennya.”

Her handwriting was still unsure, he noticed from where he was lying, almost childlike and adorned with ink stains and spelling mistakes; but despite that, a pleased little smile had come to grace her lips, together with a quiet satisfaction that danced in her eyes every time she made some progress. Shyly, a pair of small dimples also appeared on her freckled cheeks, matching his own.

Pretty.

“And Solstice?”

Mali’ya still wasn’t looking at him, and a moment passed before she was done writing. Finally, she closed her handwritten dictionary with a soft thud. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means.”

Asra smiled, shaking his head with a light huff, before eventually giving up on lying on the blanket so he could sit up and borrow the astronomy book from her.

“I told you, you don’t have to apologise for every word you don’t know.” He flipped a couple of pages like he meant to find a specific chapter or image; peeking at him, Mali’ya couldn’t help but notice how the words slid under his eyes without him even noticing them. Just how much did he know on the matter? And who taught him all that, given that he was only a year and a half older than her?

Asra was such a mystery, she thought. He possessed extraordinary talent and a unique predisposition for magic, was resourceful and clever, but nobody seemed to have acknowledged that yet. In her modest opinion, his shine would only have gone to waste, had him kept busying himself with their lessons.

In the end, Mali’ya saw him settle for a star chart.

If only I wasn’t such a slow learner. Mother always said I―

To her surprise, Asra set the book aside and reached for one of their bags. “Solstice marks the first day of winter and summer, by the way.”

She was still lost in thought when she answered, “That’s sontsestoyannya.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say as he handed her a smaller bag, the one filled with the berries they’d picked on their way to the woods just the other day. “Sounds complicated. Vesuvian is pretty different from Venterrean, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mali’ya agreed, taking out a single blueberry from the sack. It was soft and full between her digits and the rind was just the perfect nuance of indigo any ripe fruit should be. It would’ve taken a single, light squeeze to smash it.

“So is Zadithi.”

It was a statement so soft, a whisper so nostalgic, she almost didn’t catch it.

Asra had his eyes fixed before him, though he didn’t seem to be actually seeing whichever thing he was looking at. Faust, who’d been napping among the creases in the blankets, had probably sensed his discomfort since immediately, though ever so gently, she slithered up around his arm as to console him.

Arms around his knees to make himself smaller, a stare that spoke to none―he looked much older than his fifteen years of age, but also somewhat younger, the way when a self-made teen grows up too fast; an inner child whose heart, she was sure, ached for something he would hardly get back.

In the silence of the night, Mali’ya began to understand. Why she’d been drawn to him since that morning at the market. Why she always felt so at ease around him, even though she’d only known him for a few months. She had never been able to notice that before, because both of them were just dancing around the other; trying to see if they could really let their guards down.

They really weren’t that different, then.

Wait.

All of sudden, a realisation―raw hope―pushed anything else aside.

Silence?

“Asra,” she called, her tone urgent and bright all the same. Hurriedly, but as not to startle him, her hand ghosted on his forearm. “The rain. It stopped.”

Not minding the sheets rustling under her knees after her eagerness, Mali’ya crawled out of their makeshift tent but stopped half-way, turning to Asra with an outstretched hand.

“Come,” she smiled, in a way she hoped it said I see you. You don’t have to be alone. “Let’s go see the stars!”

The cold, humid air that followed storms was pleasing on her skin as she unlocked the seal, letting the breeze in while Asra handed her one end of the blanket. Still on the doorstep, Mali’ya watched as her breath formed uneven clouds of steam.

“The sky’s clearing up,” Asra whispered beside her.

The holiness of it all, of the dead of a midsummer’s night, was enough to keep their voices low. Everything was painted in delicate shades of black and blue, and as they huddled close to one another, Mali’ya and Asra waited for the stars to show up.

Little by little, on the dark, empty canvas around the moon, a faint white dot appeared. Alone at first, it was soon followed by another, and another again, while the wind gently pushed the clouds aside to offer the city, and the few bystanders still wandering around―or standing on a threshold with their hands so close they almost touched―a sky so wide and mighty.

ao3 link

#asra #asra alnazar #asra x apprentice #asra x mc #the arcana #💌 : can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland #btw this is kinda rushed since i wrote it down in like; a whole afternoon #but i so much needed to get it out of my system asap #can you guys believe that i initially planned this to be like 700 words long and then i rly got THAT far?#me neither #i'm also kinda proud #not one of my best works but... love the vibe #you can actually pinpoint the moment mali’ya goes ‘i’m so lucky and everyone has it worse so it’s my duty to make up for that’#screaming into the void like aaaaaaaa #dani writes

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friendly-philosopher · 3 years

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Forbidden Feelings and Hidden Corners: Draco Malfoy X Reader

Finally! I've posted this for your request! Thanks for requesting. I don't know if this was what you expected, but I hope you'd like it. Happy reading!

"I am asking you for the final time boy! If you don't accept the mark from the dark lord, I'll have to find ways to make you accept it." The Lestrange woman sneered at her nephew.

Narcissa Malfoy stood hidden in the darkest corner of the room, blending with the darkness, making Draco doubt if she was really there. He knew she wanted to help him, but the wizarding laws, the wedding laws, and the way she was brought up made her unable to speak against her sister who was obsessed with the dark lord, nor her husband who had his arms crossed, staring at his son, who had become the biggest disgrace to the Malfoy bloodline, with disgust.

"Are you taking it or not?" Bellatrix snapped once again.

Draco let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. The moment he did, all he could remember was her – his sunshine.

He could remember all the beautiful memories with her. Her stunning smile, her radiant face, her ethereal beauty, her angelic laugh, her soft kisses, everything about her, only her!

He remembered how she would interlock her fingers with his. He remembered how she would cuddle with him. He remembered how she would run her fingers through his hair. He remembered how she would hug him from behind, announcing her presence. He remembered how she would make him lay his head on her stomach, hugging him and falling asleep on the couch. He remembered how she would hold him, when everything became too much for him to handle. He remembered how she would hint soft kisses on his head, forehead, nose and finally his lips. He remembered how they both would spend their nights in the astronomy tower, star-gazing.

Finally, he remembered the way she would mumble "I love you"s in between the kisses. Now, he wished he could have told it back to her. He had always been a very private person, building walls. She was the first one to break many of those walls. Yet, he was afraid to tell her that he loved her.

But she waited. She knew how he was when it came to feelings. She knew expressing emotions weren't his strong suit. So, she was patient enough to give him the time he needed, and he appreciated it.

But now, he regretted taking too much time to just state a fact - the fact that he loved her to the moon and back , she was his everything and he wanted a forever with her.

"No!" he heard himself whisper.

"What?" Lucius snapped.

"No! I'd never take the mark nor become a death eater." He stated firmly and felt proud of that bravery.

Lucius glared at him but Bellatrix just laughed an evil, cold laugh that could rival her master's.

"We'll see my dear!" she told him in a sickeningly sweet tone and left Draco's room, motioning his parents to join her.

***

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) missed Draco Malfoy. If someone had told her that she would miss him so badly that her heart will ache for him, four years before, she would have laughed at them. But now, after years of getting to know the true him and loving him, he had become everything to her. She had caring friends and was really grateful for them, but she missed him.

True, their relationship was a secret one, and no one knew about them. But it didn't mean she loved him any less. She loved him all the same and she knew he loved him too, even if he wasn't so vocal about it. She loved spending time with him, and wasted all her days anticipating their midnight meetings.

Her being a Gryffindor, a muggle-born and worse, a part of the golden quadruplet, and best friend to the golden trio and Draco being a pureblooded, a Slytherin and worse, a Malfoy, had them not go public in mutual understanding. But she did love the memories of the midnight, and they took care of their forbidden feelings in their in hidden corners!

But, it had been a week - a week since holidays were over, a week since school had started, a week since she had seen him, a week he didn't attend school. She decided to write him an anonymous letter to find if he was okay. If he got the letter, he would recognize her handwriting immediately. If it somehow, fall in the wrong hands, then they can't know it was from her. Boy, how wrong she was.

She sent a letter to him. It contained a simple question : "Are you okay? Missing you!"

***

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the Sixth year for the Golden quadruplet. They were enjoying themselves. Even (Y/N) had pushed aside her worries for a few hours and enjoyed the time with her friends. They decided to head to the 'Three Broomsticks' for a butter beer. While they started walking, suddenly everything became dark and they could feel themselves being grabbed harshly and being aparrated to somewhere.

When (Y/N) opened her eyes, she found herself in a dungeon. She could see her friends in some sort of jail.

She heard someone calling her. The voice was so familiar. Her breath hitched in her throat and her eyes widened. It couldn't be!

"Draco!" She whispered, turning around.

She saw him. It was really him. But his hands were held behind his back by his father while his aunt stood near him.

"How is our little surprise, Draco dear?"

"Let them go!"Draco snapped, pulling his hand away from his father's grasp and reaching for his wand. But before he could even point it against her, Bellatrix disarmed him and bound him with a rope. His wand fall down near his legs and he was forced to look at Bellatrix, now circling (Y/N).

"Ahh....I take it you are the pretty little mudblood that bade my nephew turn against us?" (Y/N) remained silent. "Did you seriously think we can't find you if you didn't sign the letter. Our pure blood magic is way better than that!" She spat.

"Shove your pure blood pride up in your - "

But before she could finish her statement, she fell to the floor, screaming.

"Draco, you take the mark or enjoy watching her die a slow and painful death."

Tears flowed freely from Draco's eyes as he watched the love of his life on the floor, screaming an writhing in pain.

"Please, stop it!" He screamed.

"Will you take the mark, then?"

Before he could answer (Y/N) spoke "Draco, don't. They are gonna kill me even if you take the mark. They'd never let us get together. At least, I'll die knowing I saved you from a terrible fate!"

"Shut up, mudblood! No one asked you to speak" Bellatrix sneered, throwing another "crucio" at her.

Magic is a wonderful thing. It can understand emotions more than any human being ever could. And it did. When Draco felt love for her, anger at his father and aunt for doing this to her and frustrated because he couldn't do anything to save her, his magic swooped in to save the day. His magic came out of his hand without a wand, blasting the iron bars open, freeing the Golden Trio and bursting the lights of the dungeon.

Bellatrix's wand flew away from her hand and so did Lucius's. He caught it and threw them to the trio, before picking up his own, grabbing (Y/N) and apparating to the first place he could think of – The Shrieking Shack. He saw that she was unconscious. She carried her bridal style all the way through Hogsmeade, towards Hogwarts. People stared at him throughout the way, but he didn't care. He walked as quickly as he could, because the only thing he cared about was saving her.

Draco was in a daze all the while – explaining the situation to the matron, the headmaster, Professor Mcgonagall and Professor Snape ; the golden trio rushing in, out of breath, apologizing to them for all his faults and his bullying, his hateful attitude; them forgiving him after seeing the way his own family treated him but saying that it would take them sometime to accept him for who he really was.

Finally, (Y/N) decided to open her eyes. Seeing her best friends and boyfriend having a civil conversation, she thought she was having a dream. But the memories of the past hours came back to her and she sat up suddenly, her body feeling like it was set on fire.

"But why did they take us to make you get the mark?" Harry inquired, stupidly.

"Er.." Draco uncertainly glanced at (Y/N), thinking if it would be appropriate for him to tell them without her, only to see her awake.

He immediately rushed to her, and hugged her gently, like she was a glass flower who'd break at the smallest level of pressure.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"It's okay!" She told him, cupping his face and gently peppering kisses all over his face, finally landing on his lips, locking it with her own. As they pulled away from the kiss, they could see the totally gobsmacked faces of Harry and Ron, and a slightly shocked yet satisfied look on Hermione's.

"Uh....guys.....I have something to tell you."

"I've been doubting this since the Christmas break of the last year!" Hermione whispered.

"Guys....We really love each other! You've seen him only as a pureblooded Slytherin bully but I've seen the other side of him. The one that has emotions and insecurities, fears and desires, just like a normal person. And I fell in love with that side of him. But you are important to me as well. I would be happy if you accept us!"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Um...We started being civil to each other from the time he was scratched by Buckbeak. You know I love helping around in the infirmary and I helped him. Then we met in the Astronomy tower, quite coincidentially but then started meeting each other. We got into a relationship by the beginning of the last year."

"Are we that bad friends, that you've been lying to us for years?"

"No! The problem was you guys were amazing friends and I felt guilty about loving someone who you considered your enemy! But I couldn't help it. We can't control who we fall for, can we? You guys are very important to me and I didn't want to lose you. I love you too much to lose you!" She said, and she could feel tears leaving her eyes. Draco interwined his fingers with hers and squeezed it. The trio didn't miss his movement. They sighed.

"We understand that he does care for you, or the deatheaters would have never used you to threaten him."

"But one thing Malfoy! You hurt her and we kill you!"

(Y/N) beamed and Draco smiled.

"I would never even dream of it! I love her too much to hurt her!" He said, looking into her eyes. Their gaze locked and they smiled.

There was a war approaching, those were dark times, but they were there for each other. He had her and she had him. And to them, that was enough!

(A/N: Hope everyone liked it! Requests ae still open and you can request me in the comment section or PM me!

Until the next update

- Mischief Managed!)

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ AFTER ONE YEAR ❜

with Ezekiel ‘EZ�� Reyes.

Word count: 1.2k exactly.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Wait! Lemme' help you”.

EZ's voice makes you stop on your tracks, while carrying three heavy boxes of Jose Cuervo. Taking them from your hands, you show him a grateful smile.

“You don' have to do it, Zeke. You're not a prospect anymore”.

“But I'm a polite member”. He scoffs smirking at you.

The younger Reyes and you came to the Mayans at the same time. He to be part of the crew and you to be a bartender. But you have been working together for a lot of hours, mostly at parties. You two have had much fun and you know that you're going to miss those nights with him. The new prospect looks like only wants to work for the Mayans with the scrapping and the motorbikes, leaving you all the work left. Today you have had to come one hour before your shift to prepare the drinks and the bags of ice inside the bar.

Putting the boxes inside the Templo, the new member turns at you, resting an arm on them, watching you look for some space to keep the tequila. EZ is going to miss too spend time with you, even if it's not like he was leaving his hometown.

“Will you celebrate with me later?”

“Yeah, sure. But… dunno what time I finish”. Shrugging, you get into the bar to take one box and open it.

“I will wait for you”.

With a last enchanting smile, he leaves you there to attend a meeting inside the Templo. His first one.

Without your partner in crime helping you at this party, it looks like the hours are longer than sixty minutes. You have been serving drinks, recharging the fridges, cleaning, organizing the warehouse… All by yourself, while the new prospect has been flirting with Vicki's girls. Leti told you to talk with Bishop about it, but you can't forget that Tito is a member from Mayans at the end of the day, and you're just a bartender. No matter how much appreciation they all feel for you.

“Two in the night and no girl sitting on you. What's your problem, man?” Angel asks, palming EZ's right thigh and making him jump slightly over his seat, choking on his beer.

“Yeah, boy scout, pick one!” Coco adds leaning forward on his chair, with his arms resting on his lap.

“I have one already”. He mumbles. “Been waiting a year”.

Lighting a cig between your lips, you take a long drag while resting your back against the cold wall. It's the first time you have a break since you started to work six hours ago. The guys have told you to stop sometimes, but you couldn't, being alone as Tito just loses his time trying to catch a hole to put his dick in. Trying to not look at EZ when the crew cheers him up, you take off your phone from a pocket to watch some short videos on Instagram as you finish your cig.

“Did you finish, sweetheart?”

Bishop's voice makes you jump slightly, quickly keeping your phone in a pocket.

“Ah… no, Prez. I was… just having a break”.

“Didn't you finish yet?” He asks arching both eyebrows, and you're not sure what he is trying to say.

“No…?”

“You've been working for six hours. Where's Tito?”

Shrugging, you find an answer. It's been a while since you saw him for the last time. He just nods, keeping your gaze with his.

“Clean the bar and you're done for tonight, okay? Have some fun, you earned it”.

Showing him a soft smile, you throw the cigar to smash it with your tiptoes. As soon as you start with your last task, as soon you can go with EZ.

After getting ready the bar, putting Tito finally to work and being paid, you step out of Templo to look for the new member, carrying the coldest beers you have found. It doesn't take you much long to find him, seeing how one of Vicki's girls tries to sit on his lap. He rejects the auto-invitation with his eyes glued on yours, getting up from his chair under the attentive looks of his brothers and the girl in question. He has that smile installed on his lips that makes your legs shake, walking towards you with his hands grabbing the folds of his fresh kutte.

“Got a party on your own?”

“Yeah, something like”. You can't help but give him back a grin.

“Such a lucky guy who shares them with you”.

“Oh, he is. Not every night he can drink with me. The Mayans' favorite bartender”.

“Who is it, ah?”

“Why 'you wanna know? Jealous, new memb—”

“STOP BITCHING AND KISS HER ALREADY, BRO!”

Angel's high-pitched voice makes everyone laugh around you, feeling your cheeks burning he turns at his older brother frowning. Offering him a beer and leaving away the joke between both, he places one of his strong bare arms on your shoulders, taking the drink with his free hand. Proudly leading your steps back to his chair, he takes a seat first, before pushing you onto his lap. No one says anything, but Angel palms your thigh with a funny smirk having a sip of his beer.

“Look who is gonna join us”. Bishop says behind you, coming with Tranq and Taza to sit around the bonfire.

“'You asked already to be your Old Lady?”

Tranq doesn't give a fuck about the gesture from the other men to shut him up, watching EZ surrounding your waist with an arm. Marking territory.

“Ain't gonna ask her here”.

Puckering your lips and turning your shiny orbs straight to the darkest ones, you give him the look. Your heart is about to stop hearing him talk so calmly.

“What? I've been waiting a year to do it. I'm not gonna ask you here”.

You can't wait for much long to grab his face with your free hand to crash your lips against his. He wasn't expecting, but you know he has liked it because he embraces you tightly under his grip.

“God, they grow up so fast”. Taza says with a honeyed voice, making a toast with his beer, interrupting his brothers cheering for the two of you.

“Yeah, I remember when this shy girl came to the clubhouse for the first time, to give us her resume”. Riz comments like the old man he thinks he is.

“So innocent, ah?” Bishop laughs, as if you weren't there hearing the conversation.

“And now she got the golden dick”.

“COCO!” You all yell at him, making the mexican shrug his shoulders.

“Wha'? Amma lying? Boy scout embarking on a new adventure”.

“Sounds like a porn movie, man”. Gilly giggles.

“La más exitosa, carnal”.

“You know that now that I'm an official member, I can fuck you up, right?” EZ says finally, raising both eyebrows.

“Boy scout getting on his first fight”.

“It sounds like a series to me”. The oldest Reyes palms Coco's back, making him choke on his beer.

“Let's pretend nothing happened”. You add licking your bottom lip, challenging them all.

“The Old Lady bossing Mayans. Where are we gonna end up?”

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 4 years

Note

Soulmate au idea? What if it was thought that countries couldn't get soulmates. But, one day, they do? Maybe its shown by both them and their soulmate sharing a 'tattoo' that randomly appears on their body, but in the countries case it's their flag? Axis plus romano and spain reaction to this?

[Hello, lovely! I apologize for the delay in this response. I’ve been doing a lot of research for this one; I took the liberty of using the symbols from the first “flag” each of their respective “nations” would have used; there shall be photos. Feel free to message me for any more information about the banners chosen. Thank you for this ask; I had a lot of fun working on this one. I hope you enjoy!]

Germany:

Ludwig first tried to approach the appearance of his soulmark logically.

There was no possible way that he had willingly sought out a tattoo, and there was no evidence of any nation ever having a soulmate.

But the proof was right there, the golden oak branch a bold imprint on his skin.

He dreaded telling anyone at first, worried that if he would allow his curiosity to distract him, it would pull him away from his work, keep him away from his responsibilities.

But as time went by, he started to do some digging, researching the lore behind former soulmates, finding more information into platonic and familial soulmates, learning everything he possibly could about the relationships people formed with one another.

Finally, he found himself turning to the Internet, joining several platforms who specialized in matching soulmates with one another, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, he would find you.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to, someone who he could confide in, someone who could perhaps understand him without having to say a word.The night he finally had an email claiming that you had been found had been one of the most nerve-wracking of his life, the first words he wrote to you deleted over-and-over again until, finally, he was able to send you a simple Hi.A huge step, but one that had proven over-and-over again to have been absolutely worth it.

Japan:

It took Kiku an embarrassingly long time to realize that there was a golden chrysanthemum etched into his shoulder.

It wasn't until he had made a visit to his favourite bathhouse- only to be hurriedly chased back out- that he was even aware of its presence.

He spent several hours studying the new addition to his shoulder, desperately hoping that it was a prank from one of his siblings, praying that it was only temporary.

Eventually, he came to accept the truth, resigning himself to the knowledge that he now had his person out there, somewhere; he could only hope he could meet you soon.

Under normal circumstances, he would normally be really patient. But after nearly three years of waiting, he finally reached his limit, seeking out any spells from Arthur, Lukas, Vlad, and even Ivan in hopes that they could help him find you; his curiosity was killing him.

He was fascinated by the potential.

Would you be wary about being bonded to an immortal? Did you recognize the mark that connected you? Did you melt at the knowledge that you had a soulmate out there, or were you one of the types who was repulsed by the very concept?

As he prepped the final pieces for his upcoming spellwork, he let his mind wander at the possibilities.

He knew, no matter what, that he would adore you.

He could only hope that you would like him, too.

Prussia:

To say Gilbert was shocked would be an understatement.

Put more accurately, when he noticed a bold black eagle during his morning shower, he felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.

A soulmate?

No fucking way.

He wondered if the possibility came from his status; he had been dissolved for so long that maybe he had finally become human enough for these things.

Concern for his brother prompted him to keep it covered up; he had long ago accepted his eventual fate, but he couldn't risk hurting Luddy just yet.

He spent hours researching the mark, tracing over each line, daydreaming about the person who shared the same design.

You had to be something special to be stuck with him. Were you his complement and much-needed partner-in-crime? Would you be his foil?

He constantly thought about you- when walking the dogs, when writing, when wandering the wine aisle of the closest shop. Were you a dog person? Were you a writer? A bookworm? An artist? An athlete? Did you even like alcohol?

He wondered about all the intimate things- the colour of your toothbrush, the shape of your eyes, whether you were lactose-intolerant.

He had yet to even meet you, hadn't even a clue of who you were, where you were, but he was already dreaming of waking up each morning next to you.

All he could do was continue pondering the very thought of you, all-the-while plotting out the most foolproof approach to finding you.

Romano:

Lovino was immediate abject denial.

No way.

Not possible.

Fuck that.

After how many centuries, the appearance of the golden fleur-de-lis on his hip was practically an insult, adding yet another layer of unnecessary drama to his already overly stressful life.

He had a hard enough time getting people to spend any time with him on a good day; the universe implying that there was someone out there who actually would want to stay-The gods may as well have spit in his face.

He knows his brothers would go on about how romantic it all was, would do everything in their power to find you, to set up the most elaborate date seen this millennium.

He decided to ignore his mark, opting instead to keep focusing on his work.

If, and that was a big if, there was actually someone out there who would love him irrevocably, then you would understand that his duties came first. He was tired of the world taking advantage of him; at least with his job, he could ensure that wouldn't happen ever again.

If you really cared about him, you would accept him for all his paranoia.

But there was no way anyone could care for him.

Not like that.

When he first bumped into you, your notebooks and papers covering the entire table before you, eyes narrowed in concentration, groaning over an email, he had felt a flicker in his chest, an immediate camaraderie.

He had no idea at the time that the two of you had been fated to meet, that the overwhelming urge to treat you to a coffee or a gelato was destiny.

It would be slow-going, and there would be many bumps on the road ahead, but you two would learn to love each other, years before either of you thought about the twin fleurs-de-lis embellishing your hips.

Spain:

Antonio was, simply put, ecstatic.

He had helped quite a few of his citizens find their soulmates over the centuries, and he never grew tired of helping them overcome whatever obstacles may try to prevent their relationships. Knowing that there was now someone out there for him, wearing his mark, sharing the same beautiful earth and the same moon-

He couldn't have been happier.

He didn't need to know you yet; he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he would love you the moment he saw you, that you were going to be one of the greatest people- if not the greatest person- to ever share a portion of his long life.

He carried on with his life, fully aware that destiny was never something that one rushes; you would meet one another when the time was right.

He couldn't have been more correct in that end.

You and Toni had been friends for several months before the subject of soulmates had even come up, your mark hidden away beneath layers of clothing due to its unfortunate location.

He was curious; you never really spoke of a desire to meet your intended, content in the life you already had.

Deciding to address his inquiry, you did your best to describe the golden castle on your thigh, lingering on the shaping of the blue windows that nearly seemed to float above the tattoo.

As you kept going, you were oblivious to the delight of your companion, oblivious to his relief, oblivious to his gratitude.

He had been hoping it was you.

Veneziano:

At first, Feliciano would be wary.

Finding an unexpected golden blemish taking shape on his skin- a sign of a soulmate!- would give him such unwelcome anxiety.

What if you were expecting more than him? What if you were someone who could never accept him? What if you were-

So many worries, so many concerns, and each and every one of them revolved around his own faults, around his own fears that he would never be able to give you what you deserve.

He was immortal, and if you chose to stay with him-

There was a very real chance that you could still leave him, that you may one day choose to leave him.

He dreaded that hypothetical, the day perhaps even decades away when you would-

When you would-

He dreaded most things.

There was also the very likely possibility that you would never even meet.

With nearly 8 billion people scattered across the globe, many of whom never leaving their own regions-

He could only hope that you would be curious enough, affluent enough, dedicated enough-

But even with the distinctive image of his first banner as your clue, there was a huge possibility that you would never figure out exactly what it meant, where-

Upon meeting you for the first time, shimmering golden lion proudly on display as you snapped photos of the setting sun, all of his concerns drifted away with the tide.

You were absolutely at peace with your surroundings, the salty air ruffling your jacket as you continued wandering the canals.

It was clear that you had conducted enough research to pinpoint his general location, seeking out the oldest corners, exploring the most overlooked crevices; while he could have followed you all day, it was only fair and noble that he made the effort of approaching you, of getting to know you.

And one day, he would summon his courage and offer you everything.

But first-

With that first resolute step, he was already growing into a better man.

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local80smotel · 4 years

Text

All knowing love

pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader

summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.

requested; Anonymous

rating; T

warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)

word count; 2185

A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.

When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.

The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.

Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.

Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.

They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.

Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.

Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?

With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.

Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.

“I didn't expect you to come.”

He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.

“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.

A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.

“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.

“But you can simply call me V.”

"V" said while taking a bow

Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny

“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”

“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips

“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”

He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.

“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.

V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way

“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”

When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was

“How?”

V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”

The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.

He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”

“Does a raven speak?”

“But why?”

V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.

“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".

Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.

Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.

“Come sit, I have something to give you.”

“But you said-”

“Please?”

He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.

“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”

Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.

“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”

Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.

V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.

“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”

“mmhmm..”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

#v for vendetta x reader #v for vendetta imagine #v for vendetta #anonymous #anon ask #anonymous request #anon request #imagine requests #imagine #imagine request #trans reader #trans!reader #V x reader

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bakusquadup · 5 years

Note

(omg i hit send accidentally!!! I'm so sorry!!) hi!! i noticed your writing's incredibly good and i couldn't help myself from requesting! i was wondering if it was okay to ask for a scenario of bakugou's s/o being insecure of how great uraraka and him are getting along and just overall really insecure about her?? and one day she misunderstands something she sees going on between them? and she becomes a zombie (+)

Hey friend! I’ve been planning to answer this ask for awhile now because GOD I LOVE ANGST. Fluff is great, but I thrive off angst, so I’m excited to write this. Also, I deleted the first message you sent awhile ago because it was cut short, so I don’t even remember if you accidentally did it off-anon anyway! Anyway, enjoy! (It’s about 2.5k, so it’s more fic length than drabble)

-Shelley

Bakugou Katsuki

“Don’t think you’ll get away with that next time, Round Face.” You rounded the hallway corner to overhear your boyfriend intimidating Uraraka; except, he didn’t sound threatening in the way he usually did, voice loud and coarse with a handful of curses thrown in. Instead, Bakugou spoke in a goading, playful manner. You felt your chest clench in protest and your muscles tighten in fear, but you fought off the jealousy, knowing it was completely unnecessary. Bakugou cared about you and Uraraka was your friend. They’d never do anything to hurt you. Your anxiety could just shove it.

You’d been resisting your jealousy over Uraraka for a few months now. Once second year started, the two had gotten much friendlier than first year, actually capable of holding continuous conversations without yelling – a feat for Bakugou with anyone. Once the sports festival passed, the two became obsessed with rematches and you felt that there wasn’t any room for you to fit in the middle of their relationship. You worried Bakugou was pulling away from you as well.

“Hmmmm,” Uraraka hummed to herself. “I’m pretty sure I will.” She giggled and spun around on her heel, leaving Bakugou to sputter a few words of disagreement before she was gone. He shook his head slightly.

“Katsuki!” you called out, walking toward your boyfriend. He turned to you, slanted grin leftover on his face from speaking with Uraraka. Your chest tightened again. “What were you two talking about?” You did your best to smile warmly and angled your head slightly in curiosity.

“Oh,” he paused, “nothing. Just something about training.” Hoping that he would explain further, you raised a brow. He opened his mouth for a moment, considering, but then closed it again, like a fish gulping water. His eyes darted up to the clock behind you. “Shit! We’re going to be late!” He snatched your hand from beside your thigh. He ran down the hallway and you stumbled after him. Guess that was all you were going to hear on the subject. It was probably nothing.

No, you trusted Bakugou; it was definitely nothing.

Later that day, you meandered down the hallway, heading back from Recovery Girl after receiving minimal injuries in training. The school was mostly empty as everyone had gone back to the dorms for the night. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, a golden glow being cast into your eyes and distorting your vision in a butterscotch hue. Still, it was warm, so you walked slowly. You had an exhausting day and fatigue was creeping up on you to begin with, the sun pulling it out faster than before.

“I don’t know how to say it.” Your boyfriend’s voice ripped you from your daze. “I just…I’ve never said it to anyone before.” You slowed to a crawl, sneaking toward the open door where the voice was coming from, quiet so as not to give yourself away. What was he talking about? And to whom?

“It’s okay.” Uraraka’s voice. There was the tightness in your chest again. You shook your head, attempt to expel the negative thoughts, but remained hidden outside the door, hoping to hear something that quelled your anxieties. From inside the room, you could hear Bakugou side.

“Okay, okay…fuck, I can do this,” he muttered. “Here goes.” A long stretch of silence. “I love you.”

Your stomach dropped. Your hearing went fuzzy as your mind went blank and the ringing drowned out any thoughts you may have had. You didn’t think. You couldn’t. Instead, you walked your numb body out of the building.

When you pushed the doors open, the sun which had previously felt warm and comfortable, was now harsh and blinding. The sounds of cars racing by and students milling about sounded loud and grating, yet simultaneously muffled by your buzzing ears. Suppressing your desire to cry, you shuffled your way back to the dorm.

Once in your room, you slinked your way to bed, fell face-first into the pillows and screamed. Not a real scream, but the kind of scream one does when they need to cry, but the tears won’t come out. The hoarse, choked scream that could only be heard by those listening very closely.

You rotated between crying, the hoarse screaming, angrily forming texts to Bakugou, and watching TV shows in an attempt to distract yourself. It wasn’t until just before two in the morning that you managed to finally sleep, having not been productive all night.

You awoke to find yourself still wearing your clothes from yesterday, your blanket and sheets on the floor, and your head twisted at an uncomfortable angle atop your pillow. Sitting up, you put your hand to the back of your neck and rolled your head around in an attempt to prevent further discomfort. While doing so, you caught sight of your clock from across the room. 4:15. After all the drama last night, the crying, the stress, the obsessively writing and rewriting – and eventually deleting – angry texts to Bakugou, you had been hoping you would be able to stay in bed late. Two and a half hours was hardly a full night’s rest.

Might as well use the time you had. You knew that sitting around trying to fall back asleep wouldn’t do you any good because you would just wind up thinking back to yesterday. You wanted a distraction for now.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you felt the full weight of your fatigue as your creaky limbs settled back in place and your shaky lungs struggled to breathe normally. You stumbled about in the dark over to your dresser, pulling out a pair of joggers, a sports bra, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Hopefully, that would be warm enough for the weather. You put the clothes on and snagged your phone and earbuds from your desk, heading out.

As you walked down the hallway, you were careful to move as quietly as possible – partially because you didn’t want to wake anyone, partially because it was late and you weren’t supposed to be leaving the dorm in the first place. You slipped down the stairs, swiveling your head as you went, just to be safe, but soon found yourself standing in the chilly morning air.

The moon had already set for the night, so the sky was pitch black, an expanse of inky abyss with the occasional light spot of the stars. It was cold – colder than you had anticipated – but you weren’t going back in for a jacket. You figured that the jog would warm you up, so you put in your headphones, queued up your exercise playlist, and cranked the volume way up. You bounced on the balls of your feet, then set out. No better way to fight off negative emotions than loud music and endorphins, right?

A little after 5, your phone buzzed.

You paused for a moment, leaning onto a tree and pulling it out of your pocket. Your breathing froze for a moment when you saw the text.

Bakugou Katsuki: I know it’s fucking early, but are you up? Thought you seemed weird last night, are you good now?

Something about seeing his name on the screen just made you lose it all over again. A sob welled up in your throat and you had to fall to the ground, nails digging into the crown of your head. You ripped your headphones from your ears, suddenly unable to stand the upbeat music. You sat there and you cried.

A week later and your routine had remained pretty consistent – maybe not healthy, but consistent. You had class, anxiously stressed about Bakugou, went to bed too late, woke up too early, went for a run before everyone else woke up, took a shower, did what homework you could manage, then stared blankly at the wall until class. Rinse and repeat. All while avoided both Uraraka and Bakugou, too afraid to hear what they had to say.

That Thursday, your class was set to do a battle-royale style training session. Every student for themselves, the goal is to be the last student standing. People get out by having their bandanas stolen – similar to flag football, or the like – that they must keep on their person. It had been announced a few weeks ago and you had been excited for it, but you weren’t particularly excited about anything the past week. You were mostly floating through the school day.

Still, you decided that you would go all-out. Running seemed to be a mostly effective distraction method, so a training session would probably be the same. You just had to ensure you stayed away from Bakugou and Uraraka.

“Everyone has five minutes to find a place to start,” Present Mic stood in front of the class in the training arena. Everyone was dressed in their hero costumes and chattering excitedly to each other. “Remember, that anytime you take someone’s bandana, you must tie it to yourself somewhere and others may also steal that one from you. Any bandana stolen is an out. If you get out, return here.” You glanced away from the hero for a splint second to look at Bakugou who was on the other side of the pack. Noticing her was looking straight at you, you averted your gaze back to Present Mic. Bakugou would most definitely be angry about that, but you weren’t up for interacting with him just yet. “On your marks…” You prepped yourself to make a run for it. “Get set…” Knees bent, ready to go. “Go!” Everyone raced off in different direction. You chose to head toward a large building, give yourself room to blend in and sneak around. It would give you more opportunities to activate your quirk.

Once inside, you tucked yourself just beyond the entryway, ready to reach out and touch any passersby. After a few minutes, Kaminari darted by and you managed to graze his shoulder with your fingertips. Snapping, you activated your quirk. Kaminari froze, then spun around a few times, disoriented. Your quirk deprived a person of all their senses. The only requirement to activate it was that the person be touched first. The effects wore off depending on how much of them you touched and for how long, though.

“[Y/N]!” he yelled at full-volume. “That’s not fair!” Walking up behind him, you grabbed his bandana and snapped again to undo your quirk. He pulled back, surprised by your sudden appearance next to him. “I was really hoping to last longer…” He pursed his lips and raised his brows at you. “Give me a do-over?”

“Not today,” you said, already tying the stolen bandana to your arm. “I’m playing to win.” Leaving Kaminari to find his way back to Present Mic, you sprinted through a few back alleys to find a new hiding spot. Your muscles cried out in fatigue, probably from the extra running every morning, and your head went spinning in a series of sharp headaches. Fighting off the pain, you kept running. You slid behind a dumpster near the center of the arena.

You only had to wait there a moment before your next victim ran by. You managed to hit Mineta square in the back and made quick work of him, just as you had Kaminari.

That pattern continued through two more students, but the sprinting was starting to get to you. Pausing for a moment, you leaned against a wall to catch your breath, chest heaving with the labor of inhaling.

“[Y/N]?” Jumping upright into a defensive position, you turned toward the source of the voice. Uraraka stood at the end of the alley, brows furrowed in worry. She took a few cautious steps toward you. “Are you okay? You don’t look great.”

“Don’t move!” you yelled back. “Both our quirks require touching the other person and we both know I’m more agile than you.” You slowly backed up. With each step, Uraraka matched it with her own. “Don’t follow me!”

“[Y/N], I’m not trying to take your bandana.” She took another step. “I’m just worried about you. You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Step. You were frozen in place now. “Bakugou and I haven’t heard a word from you in a week.” Step. “What’s wrong?” Step.

You broke from your statuesque position, bolting forward at her. Crouching low, you aimed for just to her left. Prepared for her to fight back, you geared up to sweep her legs with one of your own. To your surprise, however, she remained where she stood. Your leg shot out and she tumbled to the ground, but the moment carried you with her.

Hitting the ground, you let out a sharp cough as the air was forced from your lungs. Your hand lifted to cover your mouth and when you looked back at it, your palm was painted with red. You knit your brows and turned to Uraraka.

“Oh my god, [Y/N]!” She rushed over to you.

“No…get back…” you managed. Why was she so concerned about how you were now? You sniffed. Your nose was running. Were you sick? You wiped it with your blood-covered hand only to find even more blood streaking across it. What was happening? You looked up at Uraraka. She wasn’t looking at you.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Bakugou.

And you were out cold.

You blinked at the piercing fluorescent lights above you, the sharp white color hurting your eyes. No headache though, only squinting eyes. Had you been sleeping? How long were you out? It was probably a blessing, even if you had missed the training session, you were starting to suffer from the insomnia.

Groggily, you turned your head to look around the room. To your right, Bakugou sat in a plastic chair, scrolling through his phone with a scowl twisting his expression.

“Katsuki?” you mumbled. He jerked up from the phone, turning his head to you so fast you thought he would get whiplash. His scowl melted away for moment, but then it was back in an instant.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he practically yelled. Recovery Girl swiveled around in her stool and shushed him before turning back to her computer. “The old lady said you probably had barely been sleeping and tape-face said he saw you sneaking out in the mornings to go run.” You flinched. His expression softened in return. “And I haven’t heard from you in days. What has been going on with you?”

The tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, spilling warm streaks down your cheeks.

“I just… I heard you talking to Ochako in the classroom last week.” Why were you telling him about this now? “I heard you tell her that you-” You were cut off by another sob, broken and airy. “You said that you love her.” Bakugou’s eyes widened slowly as understanding rushed over him.

“No, no, no.” He spoke the words quietly with a pause between each one, half for you, half for himself. “You moron. That was meant for you.”

“What?”

“Round face was just, um,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “helping me be comfortable saying it.” His face was turning red, something that you had never seen from him, and he mumbled the ends of his sentences, trailing off in embarrassment. “I’m not the best at, uh…conveying my…my feelings.”

“Oh, God,” you whispered. Another sob welled up in you, this time not out of sadness over something Bakugou had done, but shame at yourself for acting in such a way. “Katsuki, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, idiot. Especially when all you did was hurt yourself.” He gestured to the room around him. “You got yourself here.”

“I feel like such a jealous moron.” Letting your head fall into your palms, you heaved out a sigh. “Do you still want to date someone like me?”

“‘Do I want to date someone like you?’” he repeated back. Prying your hands away from your face, he cradled your palms within his larger ones. “I love you.”

#hoooooo boy this was a doozy to write #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #scenarios #fics #mine #asks #anon

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0606-hyuck · 5 years

Text

nct dream as your best friends

hellabts? i don’t know her lol. in this house we support nct.

this is probably one of my most favourite things i've ever posted tbh, this was so fun to make and i could have made them way longer but i suppose there may be a 2.0 version in the future. i tried to make it a best friends version but honestly it could also be “nct dream as your boyfriend” lol anyway enjoy!

ps i also tried to make it as gender neutral as possible so please tell me if i've accidentally used a female pronoun :)

masterlist: here!

MARK

you probably wouldn't hang out often bc you’re both busy

but you’re still super close friends

he would message you every five minutes to tell you what he was currently doing

you're his #1 hype man/woman and this would definitely make him blush

he 100% had a very obvious crush on you and no one would be surprised if he still does

gets super shy when the members ask about you

he just thinks you're so great

whenever someone asks him what he likes about you he just goes speechless because there's so many things he could list

lowkey writes you letters about how much he appreciates you but never gives them to you because he thinks you'll find them weird or silly

when you were first introduced to haechan you thought he'd hate you lol

but he respects that you've been there for mark when he couldn't be and he knows that mark would be devistated if his two best friends didn't get along

lowkey like to gang up with haechan to tease mark

so he knows he’s in trouble if you’re hanging out with haechan

“nooo haechan is corrupting you! he’s turning you into the devil!1!1″

always sharing food with you, will go out of his way to buy you snacks and act like it wasn't a big deal even if he had to go far to get you said snacks

likes sharing his headphones/music with you because you're always enthusiastic to hear what new tunes he's listening to lately

also shares his class notes with you even if he doesn't understand the content

he will literally write notes in his best pen and make them look pretty because he knows that you'll ask to see his notes lol

RENJUN

always teases you about not having a boyfriend/girlfriend even though he’s single himself like boi what

"look, that person looks nice, why don't you go say hi? or, even better, i can be your wingman and introduce you to them!"

bad idea, don't let renjun be your wingman. not only does he embarrass you (maybe accidentally or intentionally, at this point you can't even tell), but the person will probably be more interested in getting his number than yours (but it's okay, the single life is treating you well)

but if you were to get a significant other he would be like "lol nope this isn't happening i cannot deal with this!"

he wouldn't be able to stand you paying more attention to someone else than him

he'd try to be cool about it, he'd convince himself that it's fine, but the members would constantly ask him why he's so cranky lol

he'd try to convince himself that he doesn't need to see you 24/7 anyway, but the next minute he would be triple texting you asking whether you wanted to hang out

he’d be really jealous but if the person made you happy he would be okay with it. we love a supportive friend

same thing if you were to have an argument, he'd be salty for like an hour tops but then he'd get bored and text you as if nothing happened

likes to send you really unflattering selfies

he'd teach you chinese if you asked him, but he wouldn't teach basic phrases

he would teach you swear words and insults and words you'd never use like "socialism" or "beekeeper"

“renjun i’m never going to need to say this though”

“but what if a beekeeper tries to get you into socialism? at least you’ll know how to say 去你妈的. bet you didn’t think of that one”

JENO

basically a married couple tbh

you both share common interests and you could spend hours talking to him about them

people think you're weird because of the amount of time you and jeno talk about cats/similar interests but it's okay because you both enjoy it

barely have any arguments but if there is it's likely about what movie you guys are going to watch or how he shouldn't pat his cats so much because of his allergies

always thinking of you

"jaemin, what do you think of this coat? i think i'll get this for y/n's birthday, is it their colour?"

"we can't buy that if we're watching movies with y/n, y/n doesn't like that flavour, pick something else"

will cook for you not even if you're sad or sick, just if he's bored and you have some ingredients

you'd try to help him but in the end you'd just watch him while he listened to you rant about a lady that pushed in front of you at the supermarket

likes to sing to you/play instruments for you. it’s real cute

halloween costumes! you guys make your outfits every year and always do couple/matching outfits

your favourite outfit was when you went as harry potter and hermione but you made jeno go as hermione

real cheesy jokes/puns? like his members groan out loud whenever he tells a joke but you always find them really funny because they're so bad

his members actually leave the room if you and jeno get into a pun war, it's just that bad

HAECHAN

super loud duo

people think you hate each other bc you're constantly arguing

and tbh you thought he was really annoying when you first met him, don’t tell him that though lol

low blow insults that make the members think you or haechan will get offended but you both just laugh

"damn that was a good one"

talks shit in a joking way but if anyone else was to do the same he would be the first person to defend you

"um excuse me, who do you think you are lmao i'm the only person allowed to be mean to y/n"

buys you birthday gifts ironically eg something you hate but will have a backup present to give you that you'll actually like

"haechan, this is a minions key chain. you know i hate minions with a burning passion"

"sike i actually got you that thing you'd been wanting for ages, no need to thank me i already know i'm great"

you get told that you and haechan are too mean to each other, but you know it's all in good fun

full on photoshoots

like he will invite you to hang out just so you can take real aesthetic photos of him and vice versa

he’s a real fan of the golden hour selfies

your favourite moments are the early hours in the morning when haechan sometimes calls and is really honest about his feelings

"i know i don't say it enough but i really appreciate you, i'd be such a miserable old grump without you"

"if you tell anyone i just said that i will have to kill you"

JAEMIN

people probably think you're dating

actually scratch that, everyone thinks you’re dating

even the dreamies have to remind themselves that you’re just friends with jaemin

insists on taking selfies together whenever you go ANYWHERE

his instagram is just filled with pictures of you and him captioned “GO BEST FRIEND THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND”

your parents love him because he's such a charmer, you have to remind them that he's just your friend not your boyfriend

jaemin doesn't mind though, he likes how flustered you get when people insinuate you're dating

you guys have a pact that if you aren't married by the time you're thirty then you'll just get married to each other

you know this kid is 100% going to flirt with you

but he ONLY uses really bad pick up lines

"are you a banana? because i find you appealing"

"damn it not this again"

"if you were a triangle-"

"jaemin no"

"you'd be acute one"

"that was your worst one yet"

whenever he travels he makes sure to buy you really tacky but cute soft toys

"jaemin i appreciate this, i really do, but i physically can't fit another soft toy in my room"

a really good listener?

like you can talk to him about anything and you know he won’t judge you

he just listens to what you’re saying, nodding often, and then when you’re done he will offer really good advice

ugh i think we all just need a jaemin in our lives tbh

CHENLE

the loudest!!!

the members try to separate you guys when playing games but it doesn't work because chenle will just yell at you from across the room

literally thinks you're an angel and is so thankful for you

you make him so much happier

like sometimes he catches himself and he’s like “ew when did I become such a softie for y/n, gross”

major uwu for you, constantly teasing you because he thinks your reactions are so cute

constantly talking about you because it makes him happy

"omg this reminds me of that time that y/n and i went to the arcade and were kicked out because we were way too loud"

“okay it was actually just me but like y/n didn’t try to stop me or anything, they’re just as guilty as i am”

individually you are the most cowardly people ever like this kid will just stand and scream his head off if he sees a spider

but when you're together you somehow gain heaps of confidence to do the thing™️

like you'd tease him for being too scared to ride a rollercoaster and oh would you look at that suddenly he wants to ride the rollercoaster to prove you wrong

and then you'd join him to prove that you're also no wimp

and you'd both be scared shitless the whole time

but when you get off h'd be like "that wasn’t as bad as i thought it would be”

“you were screaming like a baby though, lele"

"no u"

likes to teach you chinese and really likes that you're interested in his language and culture

you thought he'd tease you about your pronunciation but he's actually so supportive because he knows how hard it is to learn a language

brings snacks to your study session as a reward but ends up getting distracted and eating them himself

JISUNG

comes to you for your opinion first

"should i post this selfie to instagram? the others said i look a bit funny"

"um are they blind? you look great jisung!!"

"i was going to post this dance routine to instagram but i messed up a step, i just want to show my best to nctzen"

"are you kidding??? i'd like to report a missing wig. ugh michael jackson could never"

he hates having his photo taken but the minute you ask him for a selfie he’s already getting into a pose lol

this kid will literally do anything for you

you're sick but he had plans? sorry looks like he's cancelling his movie date with chenle

your significant other just broke up with you? um jisung is an idol but who says he actually needs to do live stages hah

you're moving cities/countries? lol jisung packed his suitcase weeks ago

real talk though jisung hates to see you upset or sick but he's also real awkward and doesn't really know how to make you better

so he just comes over and you watch stupid youtube videos together

most times he'll force you to take random quizzes like "we will tell you which cartoon character you actually are based on the cereal you put in a kiddie pool"

he will then spend the next twenty minutes ranting to you about how your result was pink panther only because you chose the strawberry flavoured cereal

and you'd be adamant that pink panther actually reflects who you are on the inside, and that buzzfeed quizzes wouldn't lie to you

"omg jisung i AM pink panther you just don't understand, why can't you accept me for who i truly am"

in the end you wouldn't know what you and jisung were even talking about anymore but hey at least you don't feel as upset/sick as you did before

you also say a lot of stupid stuff (whether that's on purpose or not is entirely up to you lol) and jisung always pretends to be embarrassed by you

he will literally let out the biggest sigh ever and pinch the bridge of his nose, as if being around you is the most stressful, testing thing ever

but he's only kidding because he's well aware that if you weren't his friend he would definitely be a hermit in the mountains or something lol

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xtruss · 3 years

Text

Goodbye Ted Dexter, Free Spirit, Cricket Thinker, Renaissance Man

The England and Sussex captain had aura, flair, majestic batting, and impossible glamour - and that was just on the field

— Mark Nicholas | 27 August, 2021

Ted Dexter batting in a ring of close-in fielders in Sydney, January 1963 Getty Images

I don't know when the Ted Dexter affectation started but I can guess. The last thing my father did with me before he died so young was to take me to see the 1968 Gillette Cup final at Lord's. This was during Ted's short comeback and when the great man strode to the wicket, I leapt about in excitement, cheering his name for all I was worth. He didn't get many but no matter, I had seen him live. That evening Dad bowled to me in the garden as I imitated every Dexter mannerism and stroke I had seen just a few hours before.

"There is about Dexter, when he chooses to face fast bowling with determination, a sort of air of command that lifts him above ordinary players. He seems to find time to play the fastest bowling and still retain dignity, something near majesty, as he does it." — John Arlott

I fell for the aura, and for the flair in those back-foot assaults on fast bowlers. Not for a minute do I think I saw the 70 in 75 balls against Wes Hall and Charlie Griffith at Lord's in 1963 but I feel as if I did - the power, the poise, the sheer gall of it. Nothing, not even the Beatles, could drag me from the television screen when he walked to the wicket, seemingly changing the picture from black-and-white to glorious technicolor as he took guard. Frankly, much of the Test cricket of the time was pretty dull but there was a frisson, an expectation, with Ted, just as there is when Ben Stokes is on his way today. It was all too brief, he had retired for good before I started proper school.

The West Indians of the day - Conrad Hunte, Garry Sobers, Wes Hall - thought that innings the best played against them by anybody, though Dexter himself would modestly say it was just one of those days where everything came together and the bat swung freely in just about the right arc. He was well miffed to be given out lbw, however, insisting later that the DRS would have saved him. Who knows how many careers might have been changed by the sliding doors of the DRS.

The word majesty sits well with Dexter's batting, primarily because of the way in which he attacked through the off side off his back foot. This is a stroke so difficult to master that more prosaic batters choose to ignore it. It is no great surprise that Dexter thought Gordon Greenidge and Martin Crowe the two most technically correct right-hand players that he saw, citing their ability to stay sideways-on and to play the ball alongside their body as the prime reason for the accolade.

He was a huge fan of Joe Root and became near apoplectic during the England captain's relatively lean spell a while ago, when he became square-on to the bowler and was playing in front of his body. This niggled so much that he wrote to Root without mincing his words. Though at first put out, Root soon saw the kindness in a man of Dexter's age and knowledge who bothered to write, and therefore returned an email of thanks with the observation that he took the point. Who knows to what degree? It is enough to say that this year Root has batted about as well as any man could have done, and no one has enjoyed each of these innings in Sri Lanka, India, and now at home as much as Dexter.

One final appeal: Dexter (fourth from left) watches as umpire Charlie Elliot gives John Inverarity out off Derek Underwood, The Oval, 1968 Getty Images

For the best part of a year now, Ted has been banging on about Dawid Malan: simply couldn't understand why England didn't pick him to bat at three. He cited the hundred in Perth in 2017 and this year's big scores for Yorkshire before predicting near-certain success with the method that brought those runs. It is sad, indeed, that he didn't live to see the fulfillment of his prophecy in Malan's fine innings yesterday. He liked the look of James Vince and Zak Crawley too, cricketers who stand tall and play with freedom. He got a lot right, this man of Radley, Cambridge, Sussex and England.

Tall himself, strong, handsome and impossibly glamorous, Edward Ralph Dexter caught everyone's eye. With the golden Susan Longfield on his arm, they cut quite a dash and cared little for the sniping that came from those less blessed. The enigma in him - and how! - was often confused with indifference, and though cricket has remained his other great love, it was never the be-all and end-all for him - a fact that made his appearances all the more cherished and his company all the more engaging. It is remarkable to think that he first retired as far back as 1965, before returning briefly in 1968 to make a double-hundred at Hastings against Kent and be immediately recalled to the England team for the Ashes. In the brilliant photograph (above) of the moment when Derek Underwood claims the final wicket at The Oval, Ted is caught spinning to appeal for lbw with a face that smacks of a lifelong instinct for competition and achievement.

"Ted was a man of moods, often caught up in theories, keen when the action was hot, seemingly uninterested when the game was dull... a big-time player, one who responded to atmosphere, liked action and enjoyed the chase and gamble. Maybe this was the reason he was drawn to horse racing so that a dull day stalking the covers might be enlivened for him by thoughts of how his money was faring on the 3:15 at Ascot or Goodwood." — John Snow

Richie Benaud and Dexter in Sydney during the 1963-64 Ashes Frank Albert Charles Burke / Fairfax Media/Getty Images

And Snow would know for he was not the type to rise above those grey days of county cricket when the stakes were so low. Snow and Dexter, my first heroes, along with Jimmy Greaves and George Best, Muhammad Ali, the Beatles and the Stones - all of them important figures at 29 Queensdale Road, where the young Nicholas grew up with vinyl records and cared-for willow, narrow-grained and well-oiled for the garden Test matches that England forever won.

Much of the 1960s were about rebellion, revolution even, in response to the age of austerity. After the long and mainly drab post-war years, the young simply broke free and changed pretty much anything they could get their hands on. Music and fashion led the way, leaving sport's establishment to stutter in their wake. Only a few precious players could transcend the inertia, using both their talent and expression to delight the crowds and influence the young. Cricket was my thing, Dexter and Snow were the wind beneath my wings.

In Snow there truly was rebellion, against authority and the system it supported. This was not so in Dexter's case, though his free spirit and somewhat cavalier approach to responsibility gave the impression of one determined to ruffle feathers. From the outset he adored sport, worked harder than some might think at his books, and embraced diversions with the enthusiasm of a man who had more to do than could ever be done.

In many ways Ted was a contradiction: at once a conformist, as shaped by the early years of his life at home and school, and a modernist, whose lateral thinking did much to reform the structure of English cricket during his time as chairman of selectors. Richie Benaud observed that Ted's imagination and drive "will be of great benefit to English cricket in years to come. Equally, I'm in no doubt that others will take the credit for it." The rebellion in Ted was hardly radicalised but he loved to challenge conservative thinking, to take risks and to invest in his life as an adventure. Both on and off the field, this made for a terrific watch.

The best of Ted: Dexter on his way to 70 against Wes Hall and Charlie Griffith at Lord's, June 1963 PA Photos

He thought the Hundred a good wheeze and admitted he would rather like to have played it himself. He was, of course, the original thinker about one-day cricket, supporting its conception as early as the late 1950s and then leading Sussex to the first two 60-over titles at Lord's in the Gillette Cup. He paid close attention to the tactics and convinced his men that following them to the letter would do the trick. Which it did. He pushed for four-day county matches 27 years before they were incorporated and he founded the idea of central contracts for England players long before other teams caught the bug.

He was proud of his part in the development of the spirit of cricket, applying golf's moral high ground to the game that made his name. Through his own PR agency, he became a pioneer in cricket's digital-technology revolution by inventing the system of Test match rankings that first announced itself under the banner of Deloitte and is now the ICC international rankings.

On a Zoom call a couple of months back, with tongue firmly in cheek, he said, "Having a rather high opinion of myself, I can safely say that had the rankings been in place sometime around the mid part of the 1963 summer, I would have been the No. 1-rated batsman in the world." We had special guests on these calls - Mike Atherton, Michael Vaughan, Ed Smith, Robin Marlar, Sir Tim Rice and more - all keen to share a drink, chew the cud and have a laugh with the game's most original and forward-thinking mind.

Champagne days: (from left) Fred Trueman, Dexter, David Sheppard and Colin Cowdrey celebrate after winning the Melbourne Test, January 1963 PA Photos/Getty Images

We cannot jump past golf without mentioning the game at the Australian Golf Club in Sydney when Ted partnered Norman Von Nida against Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player. So enamoured of Ted's golf were they that Nicklaus suggested Ted follow him back to the USA for a crack at the tour. Player has long said that Ted was the best amateur ball-striker he ever saw and Von Nida just thanked him for securing the one-up triumph that day. Eighteen months ago Player told me that in their one head to head with each other, Ted beat him up the last at Sunningdale, receiving only four shots. "Little so-and-so," said Ted, "we played level!" They were due for a game last summer but Covid stood firmly between them. The last time I played with Ted, two summers ago now, he beat his age, shooting 83 round the Old Course at Sunningdale without breaking a sweat.

This was a man of Jaguar cars, Norton motorbikes, greyhounds, race horses and an Aztec light airplane that, in 1970, he piloted to Australia with his young family beside him, to cover the Ashes as a journalist. They flew 12,000 miles and made about two dozen stops at British military bases along the way.

Ted married the very beautiful Susan soon after returning from Australia and New Zealand in the spring of 1959. How she is hurting today. So too Genevieve, Tom and the grandchildren.

There was an eccentricity in him that was occasionally misunderstood but otherwise immensely appealing and it is with that in mind, that I turn to the man himself for the final word. It comes from his blog, which is a splendid read and will remain a platform for the family to share their thoughts about this husband, father and grandfather who brought us so much joy.

Dexter and Frank Worrell at a BBC interview with Peter West, August 1963 Harry Todd / Fox Photos/Getty Images

It was in my last term at Radley College when I had a hard game of rackets in the morning, scored 3 tries with two conversions for the 1st XV in the afternoon, was heard listening to operatic voices in the early evening, before repairing to the Grand Piano in the Mansion and knocking off a couple of Chopin preludes. "Quite the Renaissance man it seems" said my Social Tutor and I admit I liked the sound of it, if not quite knowing what it meant.

The Encyclopaedia Brittanica description of Renaissance man (or polymath) is as follows: one who seeks to develop skills in all areas of knowledge, in physical development and social accomplishment and in the arts. A point is made that you do not need to excel at any one activity. It is enough to tackle it seriously and see how far you get. I like the physical development bit obviously and I feel the social accomplishment bit is covered by my willingness to take on responsibilities all my life. Perhaps the arts bit is a bit shaky but a love for music, and particularly opera, and love of language - being fairly fluent in French, Italian, rudimentary German and Spanish - may be some modest qualifications."

Some different cat, huh. What a man. What a cricketer. Goodbye Ted, and thank you.

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