#THE VINTAGE BOOKSHOP OF MEMORIES

[wordsinhaled]

Aziraphale returns to Earth, but his memory’s been wiped, like Gabriel’s was. He instinctively comes to the bookshop, but Crowley’s not there.

Muriel’s there, instead.

Muriel doesn’t really know what to do with him and Aziraphale… he doesn’t remember being Aziraphale. Just that something drew him inexorably to London, to this neighborhood, this street, this shop. He’s still wearing the bespoke new clothes he was given in Heaven, not a stitch of tan or tartan or vintage fabric anywhere on his person.

He’s subdued and pensive at first, robbed of his usual verve and lust for all of the beautiful things in life; and he doesn’t remember how he takes his tea, or even that this is his shop, actually—it couldn’t be. That’s absurd. He doesn’t believe Muriel that he is, in fact, an angel named Aziraphale. An angel owning a bookshop in Soho. Really, it couldn’t be any more fantastical if it came right out of a fantasy novel, could it?

Nina and Maggie come by, and when they see Mr. Fell’s condition Muriel very, very narrowly convinces them not to take Aziraphale to A&E right then and there.

And then Crowley shows up.

He’d stayed away, for a bit, at first. He’d wanted to stay away for always, maybe wish himself to another star entirely (not Alpha Centauri, that one was utterly out of the question, thank you very bleeding much). But being in his new, empty, hyperminimalist flat with only his plants for silent company is leagues worse than any torture hell has ever thrown at him before. It doesn’t really bring him the joy it used to. If he’s honest, which he would prefer not to be, nothing much does; but maybe that’s just what life as a demon is supposed to be. Joyless and colorless.

And so he’s taken to coming by; only for a bit, only about once a week if he’s very disciplined. Someone’s got to make sure Muriel hasn’t sold any of the books, don’t they?

And. Well. It hasn’t been that long, really, since Aziraphale left. Sometimes Crowley just walks up and down the street. Orders a nine-shot espresso from Nina. Visits Maggie’s shop, takes a listen through the records she keeps aside for him even though he’s never asked her to do it. But in the end, he finds himself back at the threshold of the bookshop, pulled there like iron to a lodestone. It’s all very… regular, very boring, very mind-numbingly bland and dull without Aziraphale there with him, and yet… it’s the only place Crowley’s found ever that feels remotely like home.

So. Crowley shows up.

But this time he looks through the window and almost discorporates on the spot, because that’s Aziraphale. That’s Aziraphale standing in the bookshop, lit gold by an afternoon sunbeam.

It’s worse, somehow, seeing him right there within reach, than it was simply remembering him. It feels a bit like being crushed slowly in a vise: a vise with great big spikes in it for good measure. Aziraphale is back. Back on Earth. Back in the bookshop, and he didn’t even look for Crowley, didn’t even try to find him—

(Of course he didn’t, Crowley reminds himself, because he’s not on their side any more. And there it is. There’s the lick of bitter, blunted anger he’s become used to, twisting round his heart alongside the aching, terrible grief he wishes he were too proud, or too disaffected, to still feel.)

He almost doesn’t go in. It would be better, not to go in, wouldn’t it? It would. He can pretend to himself, to everyone, that he’s there to look in on Maggie, or to pop into the brand new plant shop just opened a few doors over, he really has been eyeing the gorgeous Persian carpet flower hanging in the bay window. He doesn’t have one of those—

But blast it all, it’s almost like he’s summoned her because suddenly Maggie’s there with him on the pavement, and she’s a lovely girl, really, on most days, only he wishes she wouldn’t sound so distraught on this particular day, when Crowley’s already suffocating. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she’s saying. “It’s Mr. Fell. He’s back. And—I think he needs you.”

Crowley… well, he scoffs all the way to the shop door, scowls at the cheerful jingle of the bell, scoffs harder still as the door creaks shut behind him. It’s fitting that Aziraphale’s standing now turned away from the entrance, all the better not to see him skulk in. Aziraphale’d made perfectly plain that he doesn’t need him at all.

But all of Crowley’s thoughts go right out of his ridiculous, hopeless, besotted head the moment Aziraphale turns round to look at him.

He looks…

The tailored clothes he’s wearing are doing a surprising amount of wonders for him, actually. That’s Crowley’s first thought, he’s a bit ashamed to admit. The cool grey silk of the suit makes Aziraphale’s eyes an impossibly bright, crisp blue, or maybe it’s that Crowley’s forgotten somehow how blue they always were.

Crowley’s second thought is that he hates how much he’s missed him. He hates how, already, his shoulders are dropping down from where they’ve been perpetually scrunched up about his ears for weeks, just at being in the same room. He can’t stand the treacherous lump rising in his throat and the way the scent of violets follows Aziraphale everywhere and really, he’s got to thank someone in this hope-forsaken universe for the paltry sanctuary of his bloody sunglasses, because...

“Oh,” Aziraphale says to him. “Hello. I’m—”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathes, a little wetly.

“—Ezra,” Aziraphale finishes.

Crowley blinks. He takes a swaying step backwards. “…Ezra,” he says. And a part of him, see, a part of him is still livid, it really is, still bruised and raw and curled in on itself somewhere deep inside like a wilting blossom. But another part of him is—is confused. Aziraphale hadn’t chosen him. He knows that. He can come to terms with that. But surely… surely they aren’t going to be like this, now.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale says, “of course. Ezra Fell. That is my name, isn’t it? And this! This is my shop. Naturally.” He smiles at Crowley beatifically. That smile, at least, seems unchanged, if the way Crowley’s chest seizes at the sight of it is anything to go by.

“Right,” Crowley says. “…Naturally.”

“And how may I help you, sir? Is there a particular title you’re looking for? Though I must tell you quite up front, I’m told I dislike selling books, but you might, if you’re very careful, be permitted to peruse them on the premises. You do look like a nice fellow, after all.”

And it’s then—only then (too late, he thinks, and isn’t he always too late?)—that Crowley begins to realize something is very, very, very wrong with Aziraphale.

[rogerswifesblog]

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @jamneuromain here’s a little gift for you. I hope you’ll enjoy the first one shot of the little kinda series. It was supposed to be a one shot but I didn’t finish it on time so…now it’ll be a two/three chapter series! I hope you’re enjoying your birthday. I wish you the best. I won’t specify what exactly because everything what happens should be the best! Meet the best people, make the best memories and the best experiences!!!!

Between the bookshelves

My Masterlist

A/N: it’s not beta read:) there’ll be mistakes, be prepared:)

Pairing: Mob Ari Levinson x bookshop/café owner reader

Series Summary: You’re a small-town-girl living in a big city, owning her own (somewhat successful) book- and coffee-shop, a dream you had been following for years. Some of the books are little works of your own, but nobody really knew it and nobody really read them, being just small stories between bestselling novels.

And yet there was a specific client that couldn’t put down your books.

The Saturday mornings were mostly quiet and got a bit more busy in the noon, where people start waking up or curing their hangovers-for some reason you had noticed everyone liked doing it in your little coffee shop. The quiet atmosphere, smell of coffee, cake and books was calming for the people. It was just good for their headaches. Just some time to themselves. Just some…peace. That’s how you could describe your shop. Peaceful.

Most of the time they would buy a coffee, maybe a sandwich or something sweet and would sit for a while, sometimes with their headphones on, sometimes with their eyes closed or other times watching the people walk past the windows.

You enjoyed watching people.

The older people that came by because your place had an older aesthetic, the walls made from old brick stone, the shelves and tables dark wood, the couches, loveseats, armchairs and chairs all being rather vintage than modern. Always ordering the apple pie from your grandma’s recipe. Could they taste like it was an old recipe? Did it taste differently from the other pies?

You also liked watching the business people rolling their eyes during calls or while typing something on their laptops. It was really entertaining. You also always gave them a free muffin if they spilled their coffee on some (probably important) documents.

So to say, everyone liked coming here, for whatever reasons. Maybe to drink your coffee, maybe to have some peace or forget what was happening in their busy lives, instead wanting to escape in one of the books. In your cafe was everything possible, they could just drink their coffee and enjoy some snacks or disappear in a fantasy world with witches, mermaids and vampires or into a simple romance or thriller. Whatever they wanted.

And then there was him.

He came here to see you smile. To hear your voice. To get to know you.

But until now he never actually spoke to you. Not unless it was to tell you his order.

And that’s it.

Ari was the head of the mob and yet he got cold feet when it came to talking to a pretty girl.

Usually he had no problems with talking to women, even targets or other dealers but you ... .it's like he was his teenage self again (or even worse, because he actually wasn’t that nervous back then.)

He didn’t want to mess it up too soon, since you seemed like a very nice person and probably wouldn’t approve of his work. So he wanted to show you his best side-even though he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hide his true identity.

And more important, how long he’d manage to keep you safe. That was his biggest concern. That’s also why he didn’t know if he should approach you.

For now it was enough to sit in your café and watch you from afar. Like a total creep.

Ari sighed, hitting his forehead on the table with a quiet thud. What the hell was he doing? He was making a total fool of himself? He’d now go to the counter and ask for your number.

Determined he stood up and did as planned. “Hi, may I ask for-“ “Y/N, the muffins are ready!”, shouted someone from what he assumed was the kitchen. You smiled apologetically. “Give me a minute”, with that you disappeared for a moment, coming back with a plate filled with muffins.

A bright smile crept once again onto your lips when you saw the beautiful stranger still waiting at the counter. He was one of your regulars and yet you never catched his name. Nor anything else beside his usual order. “Another cappuccino?”, you saw him opening his mouth, before nodding. “Yeah, another cappuccino, thank you”, he smiled, brushing his hair behind his ear before taking out his card.

He definitely noticed the muffin decorated with heart sprinkles to his coffee, that he hadn’t ordered. Also, he got your name. This was more than he had actually expected.

And this muffin definitely meant something, right?

You watched him for a second from behind the counter, before needing to go clean up a table. You hoped he had seen the number written on the handkerchief.

He didn’t. He threw it away.

But you didn’t know that. You imagined he threw it away on purpose. Maybe he felt awkward? Or even uncomfortable? God, you have messed up. What if he’d never come back again?

Sighing you looked out of the window imagining the beautiful man talking to you about something different than just his usual order.

Two weeks. Two whole weeks Ari couldn’t go to your café and it made him crazy. Even though he didn’t know you, he missed your sweet smile. The słuchały oversized pink hoodie you liked wearing, especially when it was a bit colder, how you always wore your hair in a bun or ponytail, showing off your beautiful rosy cheeks. The way your eyes lightened up when you talked to him-he didn’t know if it was something that happened with every customer, but he liked imagining this sparkle was just for him.

Maybe it was.

Maybe it wasn’t.

But he hoped it was.

When the quiet bell sounded as he entered the café you lifted your head, having been caught up in messaging someone while there was some quiet time in the shop. There were only a few customers busy with eating and drinking, some others reading some books.

He walked up to the counter, opening his mouth to greet you, but his voice broke when he saw your slightly rosy cheeks, the soft smile on your lips. “Hello, the usual?”, you smiled at him, making him even more speechless so he just nodded.

For fucks sake what was happening to him. How the hell could you make him speechless with just a smile even though he was able to talk to twenty men with guns in hands and files longer than some restaurant menus.

Sighing, he walked to his usual table, hanging off his jacket over the chair before walking to the shelves, looking for a new book.

He found one about a complicated love story between a college student and her professor, from what he could read in the summary-but it wasn’t the plot that surprised him.

It was your picture.

You were the author.

Ari immediately took it and walked with it over to his table where he immediately started reading. He wasn’t really into romance stuff, but it was your book. It was a piece of you, in a way, and he wanted to know something about you. About the relationship you seek, the gestures that made your breath hitch and what made your heart flutter.

So he started reading.

Within a few pages he was already pulled into the story, completely losing himself in the story, interested in the problematic relationship the main characters had. Just when the main character was supposed to meet with her professor you walked up to his table with a coffee and muffin that he hadn’t ordered.

When he looked up at you and slightly closed the book you could see he was reading your book. Your cheeks turned a dark red color. Usually it wouldn’t matter who read your book but him-not him. He wasn’t supposed to know about the things you liked, about your desires and-about your sexual preferences! Jesus. Maybe he hadn’t read who the author was?

At this point you’d rather just go to bed and never leave it again. Like, really, never.

Sighing you walked back behind the counter, not noticing the lingering gaze on you.

Three hours later, Ari was still busy with the book. At this point the story was so addictive he couldn’t put it down. The main character was a total sweetheart and the professor-god what a dick he was. Such a liar. Even though he had already messed up once, he didn’t tell his lover he still had a wife. Okay, yes, they were divorcing soon but still-he should’ve told his girlfriend about it. It’s a detail you should mention. Preferably from the beginning and not letting the girlfriend find out because the wife walked into his apartment?? Jesus!

He scoffed at the book and wanted to turn the page when his phone rang. “Levinson”, he listened to his friend about having found out who had stolen guns and other weapons from him. Ari could tell his frown deepened with every second, the vein on his forehead already pulsing from anger. Fury, even. He tried to be a good man. Really. Holding back all the time-but having one of his men betray him…this was too much. It was-

“Do you want a refill?” Your sweet voice interrupted his racing thoughts, his nerves immediately calming down, the frown disappearing. Instead a smile reappeared on his lips. “I can’t. I have to go and get some …business stuff done”, he said, already standing up. It was the first time you two were so close to each other.

His Perfume smelled overpowering, but in a surprisingly good way. It made you crave this man even more than before. The smell was just heavenly. You couldn’t stop yourself from breathing it in deeply, nearly closing your eyes to enjoy it for a bit longer but instead you looked into Ari’s bright eyes. He was taller than you, bigger than you. He towered over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. You felt safe.

Fuck. Your crush was turning into something much worse.

Little did you know that’s exactly what Ari thought too.

It’s not really unusual for him being taller or bigger than someone, but with you it’s like something inside him awoke. The need to keep you close. Keep you safe. He knew how dangerous the world could be, especially for a woman like you. But he could take care of you.

He’d love to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose against your neck and inhale your sweet smell, feel your soft skin…

He had it bad. So, so bad.

A last smile crept onto his lips before he grabbed his jacket and walked over to the door, looking once again back at you meeting your gaze. You blushed at that, making Ari’s heart pound.

He’ll ask for your number. Next time when he’ll be here.

But he didn’t. The next time, two days later, he just drank his coffee and read the book. Ari was Never this curious about a book but yours was just…incredible. The love story, the whole plot. Unbelievable. And also…thinking you had such a…interesting view of sex made him curious if you’d do the things in real life, too.

Were you into the same things as the main character? Spanking? Dom and sub dynamics in real life? Being called a good girl? Fuck, he really tried not to think about these things at night. (He failed sometimes.)

“Would you like some apple pie?”, you sweet voice made him lift his head. “Oh, sure, how much-“ “no, no, that’s on the house…it’s a gift. From me.” Your gentle tone made his heart throb, while he nodded. “Thank you.”

While he watched you walk away he wasn’t sure what to do next. You were such a kind and sweet person. And he was…he wasn’t good. Far from that, actually. You two couldn’t be more different. While you were a gentle soul that gave away the food that was left after a shift to the homeless, he was capable of torturing people without blinking an eye. He was cruel, cold and furious.

He wasn’t good enough for you. He knew. And he knew he’d only make your life miserable and dangerous. Maybe he already did with spending so much time at your café. Your worlds were too far from each other for you to date. Or even be friends.

“Here you go-enjoy”, once again did your voice pull him out of his thoughts-and a gentle touch on his shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Fuck. It just slipped. From all the reading-he forgot. It was unbelievable how your whole being influenced his behavior, how you were able to make him forget about his whole being.

Just when he wanted to apologise a shy but bright smile formed on your lips, a slight blush slowly creeping over your cheeks. Without saying anything else you squeezed his shoulder for a second before stepping away from his table, being called over by an older couple.

Even though he really wanted to read more, his phone was getting blow up with messages about the recent thefts. They knew who caused them but not where he was hiding. The fact that it was one of his men still angried him, even more because nobody could find him.

But he needed the stolen things back. ASAP. Otherwise even he could get in trouble-which didn’t happen often.

He looked at the pie, smiling as he noticed the little heart you had drawn with whipped cream. The thought of not being able to have you made his heart crumble a little.

Why couldn’t he be just a simple man with a simple life?

Because he liked the luxurious life he had.

But maybe he could try the simple way of living for once?

Oh who was he lying to, everyone he knew would say he’d never have a standard live. He liked having an expensive car, the newest phone, eating out especially in nice restaurants or nice vacations somewhere far away.

He was curious about what you liked. Maybe he could invite you to his favourite restaurant? Seeing you in a elegant long dress, your beautiful neck exposed…maybe covered in some little hickeys, marks ... ..or maybe a simple and decent day collar. Just a neck with a little ring…only the people involved would understand-and maybe some people would even compliment your necklace, not knowing what it meant.

Ari’s whole chest tingled with need.

But he didn’t want to destroy your life by pulling into the mess he was in.

Sighing he took a little bite from the pie, immediately closing his eyes in pleasure. It tasted incredible. Perfect even.

He hadn't had such a good pie in a long time.

Ari ate the pie within a few minutes, not having enough time to eat in peace since his phone was ringing all the time.

Once again when he left he could feel your lingering gaze on his back.

Next time. He’d talk to you next time.

You promised the same thing to yourself…and your best employee-well, best friend, because she couldn’t handle listening to your venting about Ari anymore.

This time he couldn’t come to your café for over two weeks, since he was after Alex, the thief. And he didn’t have much time to relax. Especially not in your café, also he didn’t want to come closer in case someone was following him-which he believed was possible seeing what was happening.

But he really missed you, even though you hadn’t had a real conversation yet. It’s just…your smile could brighten his mood, it didn’t matter how bad the day was.

When he finally visited your place again the first thing he noticed was how your frown disappeared and how you leaned over the counter slightly. “Hello! Long time no see”, you grinned at him.

Ari chuckled at your enthusiasm, immediately feeling how your presence cheered him up. “Yeah I had a lot of stuff going on…it’s complicated. I’m just glad I can finally drink a coffee here…sit, enjoy the atmosphere here…it’s probably the only place where I feel like I can forget about the whole mess with-…you know, life”, he mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

When he took out his wallet your hand touched his and you slowly pushed it away. “It’s fine, this one's on me…maybe we could…sit a bit together? Talk?”, you smiled gently, seeing how the gears in the man’s head started doing their job.

“Sounds very nice, yes. I’d love to sit and talk a bit…”, he didn’t sound entirely sure about it, but you believed him anyway. Maybe he really had a bad day. “Perfect, then you can go sit down and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

After he did what said you started preparing the coffees and a piece of brownie for each. He’d definitely like it. At least you hoped he would.

“I’m pretty sure we never really introduced-I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”, when you finally sat down Ari turned his phone around so the screen wouldn’t be visible. You really hoped he wasn’t hiding a wife or kid. Or both? Let’s not be paranoid…but still…

Ari smiled at you, pushing his phone even further away. It’s not like you’d grab it and read his messages? This guy was a bit suspicious…but you knew not to judge a book by its cover. “I’m Ari, it’s nice to meet you. I wanted to talk to you for a while now…I couldn’t never really get myself to do it”, he chuckled, making you unintentionally but your lip a bit.

Did it mean he liked you just as much as you liked him?

“I’m glad. I was curious if we’d ever say more to each other than your usual order”, your words made him chuckle again and he shook his head a bit. “Yeah that…I don’t really like changes and besides, your coffee is really good. When I find a place I like, I don’t like changing things.” Ari took a sip from his coffee to prove his point-and once again the coffee was as good as always.

He noticed how seemingly pleased you were with this simple compliment. Wasn’t it obvious how good everything here was? Especially the barista…which he wouldn’t say out loud, but he’d think about it.

“What will happen to them? Will they have a Happy End?” Ari lifted the book he had once again taken from the shelf. One of your first pieces you had tried to write and actually finish. But you were still slightly insecure sometimes-especially when the person reading was someone you’d rather like to impress.

You shrugged slowly, a teasing smirk creeping over your lip. “I guess you’ll have to come here often and finish it yourself. I won’t spoil the ending for you. What’s the fun in reading it then?” Ari shook his head amused.

“I rather like knowing what’s coming, you know? To prepare myself for it, the same in real life-especially my business. It sucks to know that you’re being lied to”, he had no idea why he was telling you this but it felt good. It’s like his heart was speaking for him, even though his brain was screaming at him to shut up and preferably leave you alone.

But he listened to his heart, for once. He wanted to listen to his heart this one time.

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I understand. It must be hard having someone close betray you…if I may ask, what did he do? And where do you two work?”, you asked. Curiosity was never your best trait, but to your defence ari was the one speaking about it first. You had the right to ask…right?

Ari stilled for a second, looking down at his phone, then his coffee, hands, back at his phone and finally back at you. “It’s office work, but I can’t tell you much more about it”, you could tell he was lying right to your face.

Did you care about it? Did you see the red flags and decided to ignore them?

Nobody ever said you always made the right choices.

“I understand. Still sucks being lied too by someone important”, you squeeze his hand again.

At least he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Maybe this weird gut feeling was from nervousness and not…something else. He seemed like a nice and charming guy.

On the other hand…

So did Ted Bundy.

You quickly shook those thoughts away…for now.

To your surprise you two talked for nearly two hours, before the café started to be flooded by customers and you had to go back to work. Ari left you his number, telling you to call him when you’d need any help…or just to talk.

Happily you enjoyed the rest of the shift, already thinking about texting Ari later in the evening.

Thank you for reading!

I Hope you liked it! Let me know! Support your content creators by reblogging and leaving feedback:)

Taglist: @magnificentsaladllama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @lilsiz

[busterslefthand]

Good Omens Reverse AU + BoxFly

Season 2 Spoilers

Crowley aka Raphael

• Core Difference: He accepts, even embracing, change. Volunteered to guard Eden after hearing about earth and the ineffable plan. Finds the mystery of the plan fascinating, and has treated it like a puzzle he learns at his own pace.

• Had no intention of actually spreading good, just wanted to see how things would play out first hand.

• Likes to follow and tease Mr Fell for being a bad demon (good person). “No judgement” ass.

• The original van life girlie. Owns a vintage 70s van. While he officially put heaven’s earthly HQ in an apartment, he travels around in his van with his plants.

• Likes to try out different parenting methods on the plants since anger & resentment isn’t fueling his being.

• Reason for saving earth: the idea of ending the world and returning to a stagnant eternity seems awfully boring. He hasn’t even gotten to see humanity’s reaction to seeing his star system. (plus he’s grown fond of the planet and his demon, although it’s hard for him to admit it).

Aziraphale aka Azazel / A. Z. Fell / Mr. Fell (preferred)

• Not very creative with the new name. Clings to his angel name a bit.

• Core Difference: Fell because of his fear of change. Had a whole existential crisis following the ineffable plan that led him questioning God.

• Just a ball of self loathing and identity crisis. Constantly. Blames himself for falling, no ill will towards God. Has really tried to lean into the mean evil demon thing, but is a little too soft for that approach. Is at his best at tempting by either existentially dumping on people or with a “the water’s fine” / gentle parenting approach by spinning it to be a good thing.

• A bit of an agoraphobe and a hoarder. His bookshop is just piles and piles of books.

• Avoids hell as much as possible. Earth is his safe space and comfort planet.

• Reason for saving earth: it has become his home. He’s fallen in love with human things like music, food, and the arts.

• Reason for the s2 breakup: Raphael turns down Metatron’s offer to be supreme angel (and consequently the offer for Fell to become an angel). Raphael still sees the heaven & hell as toxic, but Fell would give anything to be welcomed into heaven again.

Beelzebub aka Jophiel

• Runs heaven like a summer camp with college student camp counselors (go bother someone else mentality). Those in charge are like “Uh, I don’t know. Go cure a kid of cancer or something.”

• Takes the ineffable plan as an excuse to be a laissez fair leader. The ineffable plan is God’s will, and God’s will be done so it’s all fine. It will work out; the angels are just here to see it along.

• Instead of a throne room or an office space, they have more of a spa area with a desk & a telephone for emergencies.

Gabriel aka Baal

• Runs hell like a miserable 9 to 5 cubicle job mixed with the DMV.

• That obnoxious boss that abuses power, and has employees doing things beyond their job description.

• Sent Fell to earth because he was “too depressing” and was “bringing down the energy of hell.”

• He still is the one who runs away from his post and wipes his own memory. Michael (aka Paimon) is no. 3, and is constantly scheming to overthrow Gabriel.

[archangelscorner]

✨ Headcanons ✨

(For Zet & Miles)

✨Aziraphale and Crowley's dynamic is a mix of frenemies and ineffable partners.

✨They bicker often but deeply care for each other.

✨Aziraphale sometimes takes on the role of the moral compass in their partnership.

✨Aziraphale is bookish and knowledgeable, with a passion for rare books.

✨He's kind-hearted and has a strong moral sense.

✨Aziraphale may struggle with some angelic duties due to his fondness for Earth and humans. 

 ✨Aziraphale loves indulging in fine dining and has a penchant for good food and wine.

 ✨His collection of books and rare manuscripts is extensive.

 ✨He secretly enjoys the guilty pleasure of watching romantic comedies.

✨Aziraphale's fashion sense is classically British, with a preference for waistcoats and bowties.

✨He's usually seen with a well-worn, brown leather satchel filled with books and documents.

✨Aziraphale's love for good food and fine dining is well-known. He frequents top-notch restaurants and cherishes every meal. He might secretly have a rating system for all the restaurants he's visited.

✨Aziraphale is a wine aficionado. He appreciates the nuances of different vintages and can often be found sipping a glass of wine, lost in its flavor.

✨In addition to rare manuscripts, Aziraphale collects antique books. He enjoys the tactile sensation of flipping through aged pages and discovering hidden gems.

✨Despite his prim and proper exterior, Aziraphale secretly enjoys watching romantic comedies. He might have a stash of rom-com DVDs hidden away.

✨Aziraphale has a penchant for the arts. He frequently attends theater productions, operas, and ballet performances in disguise, savoring the human expression of creativity.

✨He finds solace in classical music, often attending orchestral concerts and indulging in the symphonies of famous composers.

✨When he's not dining out, Aziraphale enjoys a cozy afternoon tea with a selection of fine teas and a variety of biscuits. It's a comforting and indulgent ritual for him.

✨On clear nights, Aziraphale secretly sneaks away to a secluded spot to stargaze. The vastness of the universe reminds him of his celestial origins.

✨Aziraphale has a knack for floral arranging. He loves creating beautiful bouquets and often has fresh flowers in his bookshop.

✨He has a hidden collection of rare and exotic perfumes. Aziraphale's sense of smell, heightened as an angel, allows him to appreciate scents on a profound level.

✨As an angel who has observed humanity for centuries, Aziraphale is fluent in numerous languages, ancient and modern, allowing him to communicate with people from different eras.

✨Aziraphale possesses subtle healing abilities, enabling him to mend minor injuries or alleviate pain, reflecting his angelic nature.

✨He has an extensive knowledge of celestial and supernatural lore, including the workings of Heaven and Hell, and the true nature of the Apocalypse.

✨Aziraphale has some knowledge of celestial magic or enchantments, which he uses to protect and safeguard certain relics and artifacts.

✨Due to his age and celestial nature, he has an innate understanding of time and the ability to navigate it more fluidly.

✨Aziraphale has the ability to communicate with other celestial beings, allowing him to gather information or seek guidance when needed.

✨He possesses a subtle ability to influence events in ways that are considered "ineffable," creating coincidences or synchronicities that align with the divine plan.

✨Aziraphale's unique connection to time might grant him a heightened sense of temporal anomalies, helping him spot disturbances in reality.

✨He actually possesses the power to selectively share or erase memories, a skill that allows him to protect secrets and maintain his cover.

✨Aziraphale is attuned to the elements, capable of maintaining a natural balance or calming storms when necessary.

[rocksaltandroll]

Wilde Flowers - Chapter 2

A Good Omens Human AU

Aziraphale stared pensively out of the bookshop window. He had tried not to turn his gaze up the street towards the florist, but the more he tried to keep his street viewing impartial, the more his eyes trained their focus on that shiny black vintage Bentley.

He’d been thinking about that white camelia all night. Well, possibly not the whole night – he’d obviously slept – but in between the sleep, the image of the red-haired florist with pretty amber eyes running after him with a single perfect flower chased across Aziraphale’s memory. Nobody had ever given him flowers before.

It was in interesting feeling. Aziraphale had labelled himself as a terminal bachelor many years ago – he’d been too heartbroken after his last relationship had disintegrated spectacularly and by the time he’d managed to crawl out of the sadness and kintsugi’d his heart back together, he felt too old to go back to all his old haunts. Time had just rolled away from him. Everything had moved on and Aziraphale felt out of place amongst the queer youth of the early twenty-first century; too old, too squishy.

And then, out of the blue after more than twenty-five years, a tall dark handsome stranger had flirted with him and brought him a flower. For the first time in a quarter of a century, Aziraphale felt…desirable. It was…pleasant. However, he had to remind himself not to overthink it. He was an elderly homosexual these days, had been alone too long and was too set in his ways to change. It wouldn’t do him any good to read into this camelia.

READ THE REST OF THE CHAPTER ON AO3

[papillon82fluttersby]

Famous Five Art Nostalgia – An Introduction

Join me, if you please, on a trip down memory lane as I revisit this staple of children’s literature: Enid Blyton’s “Famous Five” books.

I had read the whole series as a kid in my native French (“Le Club des Cinq”), and rediscovered it some time ago when, as I was idly browsing the AO3 tags, I stumbled upon some excellent fanfics by the lovely @sweetsorcery (SweetSorcery on AO3) and @majormcnerdy-geekinfantry-blog (SuzieAnna on AO3). One thing leading to another, I subsequently bought the full original series in English out of curiosity, partly to see if there were differences from the translations I knew. It also got me thinking about the physical books I had read as a kid, particularly the older editions.

For context, I first discovered the series when I was about 10 years old, at my grandparents’ house, where my mum grew up. She had some old toys and books there which I used to dig up when I visited, among them a dozen Famous Five books published in the 1960s. In time I read all of these, and then progressively gathered the rest of the series from the current editions of that time (late 1980s/1990s). These later books were nothing extraordinary, rather cheaply made, with soft covers and simple black and white illustrations inside. As a contrast, the earlier editions from the 1950/60s had hard covers and featured full-page colour illustrations, along with black and white illustrations scattered throughout.

So I thought it would be interesting to gather this vintage art (cover art + colour illustrations) and share them in a series of posts. I was lucky to find quite a few of the illustrations online, and I digitised some more from the physical copies in my possession. All in all, I’m missing very few, and I’m keeping my eyes peeled to see if I can find the remaining ones in second-hand bookshops, flea markets and garage sales.

I initially intended to focus only on the original editions from the 1950/60s, but I sort of fell down the rabbit hole and started gathering cover art from ALL editions until the present day – it’s fun to see how the art evolved through the years.

So, starting today and every few days, I hope you’ll join me on this adventure. For convenience’s sake, I’ll be following the publishing order of the original English edition, although the French books were published in a different order. See you soon!

~~~~~~

Credit to the illustrators:

Simone Baudouin illustrated 6 books from 1955 to 1958 (02 Five Go Adventuring Again / Le Club des Cinq, 03 Five Run Away Together / CC contre-attaque, 04 Five Go to Smuggler’s Top / CC en vacances, 06 Five on Kirrin Island Again / CC joue et gagne, 08 Five Get into Trouble / CC en péril, and 10 Five on a Hike Together / CC en randonnée)

Paul Durand illustrated 1 book in 1957 (07 Five Go off to Camp / CC va camper)

Aldo de Amicis illustrated 1 book in 1959 (12 Five Go Down to the Sea / CC au bord de la mer)

Jeanne Hives illustrated the remaining 14 books from 1960 to 1967, and did additional cover art for subsequent editions to the previous volumes

Jean Sidobre illustrated all the books all through the 1970s and to the mid-1980s, with multiple cover art along the years

J.P. Morvan illustrated the covers for a special “France Loisirs” edition from the mid-1970s to the early 1980s (France Loisirs is a book sales club that used to publish special editions of the books offered to its members, using the same text as the regular editions but with different formats and cover art)

Umberto Nonna illustrated the series for Edito Service SA Genève in 1981-82 (as far as I can figure out, Edito Service was the publishing company that released the Famous Five series in Switzerland, using the same translations as the French publisher, Hachette)

Annie Claude Martin illustrated 1 book in the 1980s

Yves Beaujard did most of the cover art for the late 1980s/early 1990s edition

Paul Gillon did all the covers for the 1990s edition; Anne Bozellec did the inside illustrations for some of the books while others used earlier art from Jean Sidobre

Philippe Munch and Jame’s Prunier illustrated the covers for the late 1990s/early 2000s edition; the inside illustrations used earlier art from Jean Sidobre or Anne Bozellec

Frédéric Rébéna illustrated the covers for the mid-2000s/2010s editions

Auren illustrated the covers for the current edition (2019-2021)

[bazzpop]

An Angel and Demon’s Guide to Adopting Other Wayward Angels

Also posted to Ao3 here

Adoption is generally seen as a good thing for society. It helps orphaned children find loving new families and gives couples the chance to experience parenthood even if they cannot bare their own young. Sure, the process has its ups and downs but many adoptive parents agree that it is one of the best decisions they’ve made in their short lifetimes.

Those parents, of course, have thought extensively enough about adoption to have gone through with finalizing the legal documents in order to take in a child— Aziraphale and Crowley, have not.

They just show up all on their own, really.

Crowley sniffs the air, another one, he thinks, with a resigned sigh.

This is the fourth time this month that they’ve been bothered by heaven’s attempt at supervision. Not that it’s really a bother anymore, he’s more amused than coiled up to strike now, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys having the constant interruptions. Especially during the last few times when he and Aziraphale had been rather occupied, snogging while he sat on the angel’s desk as said angel held him in place. Crowley smirks at the memory of the last new angel— Damuel… Tamuel… something like that, he really didn’t care, but the look on their face was absolutely priceless.

It’s been a peaceful week so far— he’s taken the angel out for lunches and dinners at both old and new favorites, caused a bit of mischief by selling and trading old CDs that have been left in the Bentley for over a fortnight, picked up a vintage Buddy Holly record from a new shop for his angel, brought a few more of his plants over from his flat, and they’ve had no visitors to ruin their plans for around a week.

“New one, Angel,” Crowley calls over Everyday as it croons from the old gramophone, “should be coming off the zebra crossing in a mo.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Aziraphale wiggles excitedly, rising from his desk. He’d been getting a head start on his taxes and could use a break,“It’s a good thing I popped out to the shops earlier!”

“Had to restock your nibble supply so soon?” The demon teases fondly, Aziraphale hums in agreement.

“Anything for you, my dear?”

“Besides you?” Crowley purrs, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh hush, you insatiable serpent!” Aziraphale turns a fetching shade of pink, giggling as he makes his way to the kitchenette. “You know what I meant.”

“Could do with a couple of Jaffa cakes and coffee.”

“Of course, love.”

The angel has made it across the street and is currently fidgeting in front of the bookshop, Crowley knows since he’s been tracking their nervous movements for the past few minutes now, by the time Aziraphale comes back with a tray laden with one of his Wedgwood tea sets, a single sleek black coffee mug, and an impressive assortment of petits fours. The demon steals four of the mini chocolate covered cakes, stacking them like casino tokens, before Aziraphale has the chance to swat his hand away from the pile of treats until the newcomer arrives.

“Taking them a while, innit?”

“I suppose.” Aziraphale hums, handing Crowley his mug, “Do you think they’ll make it to the door before the tea grows cold this time?”

“They’ll come angel,” Crowley answers, adding wistfully, “they always do nowadays.”

He shifts over to make room for Aziraphale, the armchair expanding to accommodate both entities as the angel takes a seat, snuggling up against Crowley’s side, who in turn wraps an arm around the angel’s shoulders. When no comments or complaints are made by the demon, Aziraphale reverts the armchair back to its original size in order to get even closer. Crowley grunts softly as he repositions himself to be more comfortable while wedged between his angel and the arm of the chair.

“Hi, angel.”

“Hello, dear—“

A knock on the window, of all things, get their attention. Finally.

They sit dumbstruck for a second, the shared moment between two beings ruined, before Crowley snorts so hard into a laugh that it must hurt, prompting Aziraphale to laugh full-bellied at the truly ridiculousness of the situation. Heaven must be running out of new and competent angels to send if this is the best they can do at this point.

“The window, really?!” Crowley guffaws, trying to smother it into Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Oh, this should be good!”

“Behave, dearest,” Aziraphale swats at him on the arm, trying to get the demon to compose himself, knowing he’ll never stop laughing either if Crowley keeps going.

Crowley relents, but keeps snickering. A quick miracle reheats the tea and refills his coffee— a silent apology of sort— but one that is well worth it a thousand times over with the way Aziraphale beams at him. Each and every single thing Crowley’s ever done in his life to earn that smile has always been worth it, from the easiest things to the most risky. Aziraphale’s happiness is always worth it.

Even if that means adopting every hopeless angel that shows up on their stoop.

“Would you like to do the honors,” the poor armchair creaks in protest as Aziraphale moves to stand, tugging down waistcoat as he goes, “or should I?”

“Nah angel, don’t feel like initiating a possible smiting, you know how well that went last time I answered it first.”

Crowley had only answered the door for one of those naïve surveillance angels only once— and once is probably enough anyway considering how well it had gone. He’d only done it for a lark, not even expecting a fight to break out based on their experience with the previous lot, why would this one be much different? Well, even he admitted that it wasn’t his brightest idea as an unknown, though thankfully low rank, angel panicked after being confronted with their very first demon— and a decently powerful one at that if the rumors were true. The angel, being caught in fight or flight mode, inevitably choose fight, and gracelessly tackled Crowley to the ground— only to have the tables almost instantly turned on them by another higher ranking and seemingly vengeful angel. Crowley permits Aziraphale to do the talking in this situation, opting to remain sprawled out in the doorway like a welcome mat. He’s in the middle of contemplating his own idiocy— why did he even think that could have gone well? Though, granted it could have gone so much worse— when Aziraphale hauls his ass up and over to the couch. The conversation afterwards had been painfully awkward, but they still took that angel under their wings.

Aziraphale hurries over to the door as another knock rattles against the ancient windows.

“Ah! Just a minute!” Aziraphale clears his throat and smooths down his waistcoat again, getting rid of any wrinkles with a thought. He also notices Crowley reach into the inner pocket of his jacket for a pair of sunglasses and slips them on in one smooth motion.

The angel, Sabel, doesn’t even pretend to be human. It’s like Gabriel and the other heavenly twats didn’t even try to explain their mission and what they were supposed to be looking out for down here. Sabel even explains that they went to the wrong bookshop at first, “somewhere called Waterstones! Except there was no water or stones! There was just humans surrounded by books, which I thought was odd, but then I remembered that I was looking for a bookshop!”

Aziraphale and Crowley listen, each highly amused, while the celestial equivalent of a toddler hopped up on sugar recounts everything that’s happened to them from the time they stepped off of heaven’s lift. Aziraphale worries that adding actual sugar to the mix might cause an overload, but is too late as Sabel accepts a cup of tea and a small raspberry thumbprint shortbread. They’re so fond of the sweetness that they add eight more sugar cubes to their already sweetened tea when they find pleasure in the way it melts on their tongue. It’s quite impressive, or so Crowley thinks, that they don’t choke while gulping down more sugar than tea. Aziraphale tries not to let the offense of a long-time tea snob show too much on his face.

Two (retired) Earth agents look on in growing horror, they’ve created a monster in a record breaking eleven and a half minutes. Normally it took a lot more tempting for the angels to even consider partaking in any kind of ‘gross matter’, as they say.

“Thank you for the hospitality!” Sabel beams, adding meekly, “I’m not exactly sure what I should be supervising. I’m afraid I’m very new to this whole business.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay here for a while, until you acclimate to living on Earth, that is.” Aziraphale says, taking another sip of tea.

Crowley barely holds back a long-suffering groan. This is basically heaven’s version of what hell does with that disposal demon, Eric, he remembers distantly. The main difference being that hell just kills them as a form of crowd control and heaven seems to abandon these angels down on earth. Sure, he feels kind of bad for the poor beings, maybe feels a smidge of kinship due to heaven’s abandonment after these angels have been labeled as ‘corrupted’, in this case by experiencing Earth’s simple pleasures, but the responsibility of basically raising these angels for a life on Earth shouldn’t fall on him and Aziraphale. He guesses it’s just the Almighty’s form of a joke punishment and reward all wrapped into one package for averting Armageddon, but as long as Aziraphale’s willing to put up with it— so is he.

“Really?” Sabel’s eyes sparkle with excitement, “You mean I can stay in this place? On Earth? And I can keep enjoying these, what did you call them, bee sticks? I’ve never had a bee stick before, they must not be big up in heaven, but they’re so good!”

“Those are called biscuits, dear, and of course you can stay!” Aziraphale says, absolutely enthused to have found another angel who seems to delight in tasty baked goods like himself, “There’s a room upstairs that you—“

Crowley swiftly cuts him off, “A word with you, angel. In private.”

Aziraphale hesitates for a moment, “Ah yes, of course, my dear, um, we’ll be right back in a moment. You should try the pink lady apple tarts next, let me know what you think!” Aziraphale smiles warmly at the other angel before following the demon. Crowley’s already out of the back room and is holding the bedroom door open— impatient but dear as he waits for Aziraphale to enter first and following after.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Crowley says, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off an impending headache.

“Oh come now, dearest, what’s the harm in one more?” Aziraphale pouts, turning pleading doe eyes towards his beloved demon.

They both know that Aziraphale’s playing dirty.

Crowley scowls, leaning back against the door in what he thinks is an uncaring gesture. He resists for as long as he can, which isn’t very long, before Aziraphale turns up the dial. The bastard even makes his eyes shine with I shed tears and let’s his lip wobble. He knew he never stood a chance against The Look, but at least he didn’t fold like a house of cards as easily this time. Aziraphale, however, smugly thinks otherwise.

“Fine.”

[spiderwing-nightman]

Crowley hated thinking about the Fall. He hadn't particularly liked heaven, he definitely did not miss it, but if he could have chosen a way to get out, the fall would not have been it. He meant it when he said he hadn't meant to fall, he never even spent that much time around the others who fell. He was always the odd one out, no matter where he went. He had too many questions, too many ideas, too much pride in his work, too much love for things other than Her to fit in with the other angels, especially the high ranking ones. He was too nice, too well meaning, too bubbly to fit in with the others who fell. He was alone. That didn't change when he fell, in fact it got easier to deal with. Now, at least, he wasn't alone surrounded by others, he was just alone.

The Fall burned. He hadn't felt pain before, but he was sure that this was worse than anything he, or anyone else, would ever feel. And yet, it was wonderful. Of course he didn't think so at first, but, after a while, he came to love his new form. The Fall he realized separated him completely from her and the angel he had been, allowing him to become someone new, someone who could ask questions, someone who could do what he wanted without fear of punishment. There was still downstairs to answer to, but he could get away with enough to stay true to himself. There was the added benefit of the Angel. His memories from Before were hazy at best, but he remembered making the stars and an angel helping. It was the beginning of the end. He couldn't be sure that it was the same Angel, but somehow he knew that this angel who gave away his sword to help the humans was the same one who allowed him to become himself.

Six thousand years passed. The world almost ended. The Angel almost died. They almost talked about the dance they had been doing since the beginning. Almost. The world didn't end, the Angel didn't die, and they didn't talk. Crowley saw the hope in the Angels’ eyes when he asked him to come back, to go back to how things were. He saw the devastation when he left. He didn't understand, he couldn't. How could he? He didn't know how Crowley became himself After. It was one of the things Crowley should have told him, would have told him if it hadn't gone so wrong. There was so much the Angel didn't know about Crowley after six thousand years of hiding, and so much Crowley didn't know in turn. Now it was too late. Four years they had had, four years of freedom, yet they did nothing but dance around each other anyway.

The opportunity was gone. Crowley was alone again and somehow it hurt more. It hurt more than even the fall. He had been wrong all those years ago, this was the worst pain he would ever experience and this would not remake him. Neither had it destroyed him, but there was still time. He was alone in this awful world, and nothing, not plants or vintage cars or fine wines, would make eternity worth it if he had to face it alone without his Angel. That didn't mean he would give those things up, as far as he was concerned he had lost more than anyone should ever be forced to lose. His plants suffered more abuse than they had in nearly four years, and they remained beautiful, his car was hidden in the garage of the building he had recently returned to, and, while his selection of alcohol was decidedly not fine, it remained available to him in copious amounts. 

In the past few weeks, he didn't know how many, since the conversation that wasn't, he had not left the apartment. He drove for a long time at first, but he found himself at the bookshop many times at first, until finally he drove far enough that he was surrounded by familiar colorless walls. His apartment had fixed all the damage Shax had done and returned itself to the state it had been in when he left because he expected it, but he spared it barely a glance. He organized his plants, stripped, and fell into bed. He woke up a few times when his phone rang, his heart filling with hope, but the calls were all just telemarketers, an invention he had been proud of at the time, but now wished he could unmake. The cycle repeated until one day he could not fall asleep again and stumbled out of bed trying to find something to numb the unending pain. He remained like this, trying to fill the void, for days.

He spoke to the Aziraphale in his head occasionally. Sometimes he cursed at him, said awful words he wished he never meant. More often, he begged him to come back. He told him about the spinning world, the gaps he was trying to fill without the Angel there. With no end in sight to the spinning world, he fell back into bed and tried to ignore the holes slowly taking over it. 

[anna-neko]

organizing some files, thinking about International Lolita Day and just... fell down a bit of a rabbit hole which then turned into an existential crisis....

mah dudes, it's one thing when joke "have DVDs older than you" but ... but... but... have a Gothic Lolita burando piece that isn't just "older than you been into this fashion" (not condescending, plz keep at it!), *rubs bridge of nose* this was not an EGL Comm Sales nor LaceMarket "vintage"/second-hand buy THIS WAS BOUGHT BRAND-NEW AT ORIGINAL RELEASE (in dark ages when buying direct-from-Japan needed either u knowing this One Girl on LJ who was going on a trip, or jumping 20hoops for a shopping service! (which was just another lady living in Japan at the time) and hoping they'd spot the piece u wanted) This specific brand, bless, deemed us worthy of international shipping BUT ANYWAY rambles are boring, lets look at pretty pictures instead shall we

Meta calls this piece simply "Gingham Check Tiered Skirt" (ギンガムチェックティアードスカート) seasonal collections or pieces getting fancy names that are sometimes absolutely random girl names or bad engrish translation is a fairly new phenomenon, sometimes a literal description is best

✧ 2005 did u think I was kidding about its age was gifted this lovely skirt, and literally just ... pulled whatever was black/white to wear it out immediately! Hilariously, getting the big butt-bow tied was A Challenge: he couldn't do it because boys can't bows, I couldn't because can't see what doing behind me, his mom couldn't help because she didn't raise girls so out of bows-tying practice....

✦ 2006 - Disney trip, of course brought it We did Lilo and Stitch breakfast and Every. Single. Time. Stitch passed me, he'd tug on the skirt's bow *taps hairbow* made it myself to go with the skirt! (using the very proper GosuLoli Sewing patterns mook no less!) and every couple years a friend send me his FB memories snap he took of me with Princess Jasmine in this, and we both cry over the date

an otaku pilgrimage stop on drive back

✷ 2007 ya hear of burando~whores? Well have we got a treat then a full Meta coord: blouse, skirt and headdress!

something something pale vampire

♡ 2008 One Braincell, Much Frills

very smart ladies freezing in the New England snows, send help. Also, as can clearly see, now with a matching gingham headdress (still Metamorphose, this "brand wh0re" business ain't a joke)

and then went on a trip to London and you freakin bet this was packed along! fondest memory was absolutely fangirling over a life-sized DALEK statue in a bookshop, and someone came up to tell me, "your outfit's brilliant"

♪ 2009 how cool are my loli~friends? We dressed up to go play RockBand and mofo at-home DDR! all you kids with your TikToks and ...and... Zooms.... u will never be this cool

Fun fact: that headdress from before? The tiny bows were detachable! So could use them as separate hairclips for other looks

♫ 2010 - do not think anyone comprehends just how FULL this skirt is! It's 3 gathered tiers, and that bottom one is freakin miles of fabric. Plus the waist ties, and full lining with tulle sewn in

♠ 2011 are you tired of this nonsense yet? 'cause it keeps a~goin!

♢2014 oooh bit of a skip! did own a lot of other pretty dresses, skirt was packed away for a bit fun fact: am actually freezing in NYC winter outdoors.... we went to see a play staring Sir Ian McKellen & Sir Patrick Stewart!!

and finally 2022, on the most freakin FREEZING negative-degrees day in January we went out for honeytoast and I was like .. ya know what... oldskool coord!

is my skirt old enough to drive? ... yes... yes it is.... As always, hope everyone enjoyed and for the love of Mana, don't do the math... OMFG plz don't even try to math this one out

Not writing up coord break-down, other "brands" featured are in no particular order: Fan+Friend, Baby the Stars Shine Bright, rando shit from HotTopic and Kohls (or as the kids say "off brand"), LipService, Bodyline, Secret Shop, Innocent World, AnnaHouse and a bunch of cute Etsy jewelry bits

[secretstalks]

Discover Hidden Gems: Secret Things to Do in London

London is a city brimming with iconic landmarks, but it's also home to a wealth of hidden gems that can provide a unique experience away from the usual tourist spots. Here are some secret things to do in London that you might not find in a typical guidebook:

1. Daunt Books

Located on Marylebone High Street, Daunt Books is a bookshop designed specifically for travelers. The Edwardian architecture and oak bookshelves make it a beautiful place to browse, and it’s renowned for its curated travel section.

2. Leighton House Museum

In Kensington, this museum was once the home of Victorian artist Frederic Leighton. The house itself is an artwork, featuring stunning interiors and a fascinating collection of art and artifacts.

3. Wilton's Music Hall

Situated in Whitechapel, Wilton's is the oldest surviving music hall in London. It hosts a variety of performances, from live music to theatre, in an intimate and historic setting.

4. Postman’s Park

Nestled in the heart of the city, Postman’s Park is a serene green space dedicated to memorializing heroic self-sacrifice. The park features a touching memorial to individuals who lost their lives while saving others.

5. The Seven Noses of Soho

This quirky scavenger hunt involves finding seven sculpted noses scattered around Soho. Created by artist Rick Buckley, it’s a fun way to explore the area while discovering some unique street art.

6. The Hunterian Museum

Located within The Royal College of Surgeons, this museum houses a vast collection of fascinating and sometimes macabre medical specimens. It’s a hidden gem for those interested in the history of medicine.

7. Little Venice

Often overlooked, Little Venice is a picturesque area with canals and houseboats. You can take a canal boat ride from here to Camden Market, or simply enjoy a stroll along the waterways.

8. God’s Own Junkyard

Found in Walthamstow, this vibrant warehouse is a visual feast of neon signs and vintage advertisements. It’s an eclectic gallery showcasing an array of neon art, both old and new.

9. The Crossness Pumping Station

Located in South East London, this Victorian-era pumping station is a marvel of engineering and design. It features stunning ornamental cast iron work and provides an intriguing glimpse into London’s industrial past.

10. St. Dunstan in the East

This historic church was severely damaged during World War II but has since been transformed into a tranquil garden. The ruins are a picturesque spot for reflection and photography.

11. The Magic Circle

If you’re interested in magic and illusions, try to book a tour or attend one of the events at The Magic Circle, London’s prestigious magic club. It’s a rare opportunity to see magicians perform in an exclusive setting.

12. Maltby Street Market

While Borough Market is well-known, Maltby Street Market offers a more intimate and less crowded experience. It’s a great spot for unique street food and artisanal products.

13. Bunhill Fields

This historic cemetery in Islington is the final resting place of several notable figures, including William Blake and Daniel Defoe. It’s a peaceful, historic spot with interesting gravestones and monuments.

14. Eel Pie Island

A private island on the Thames, Eel Pie Island has a fascinating history and is home to a quirky community of artists. Occasionally, the island opens to the public for special events and tours.

15. Dulwich Picture Gallery

Situated in Dulwich, this is the oldest public art gallery in England. It has a fantastic collection of old masters and a beautiful garden, offering a tranquil retreat from the hustle and bustle of central London.

Exploring these lesser-known spots can give you a richer and more diverse experience of London. Enjoy your adventures!

READ MORE

[meistoshi]

6. is roleplaying the only writing-based hobby you have, or are there other things you like to write?

8. do you expect your answered memes/asks to be turned into threads? regardless of answer, what’s your reasoning?

12. what roleplay trends do you remember from the year you started tumblr rp? how did you feel about those trends?

questions for muns.

is roleplaying the only writing-based hobby you have, or are there other things you like to write?

i've written a handful of ficlets n drabbles, i like writing out little character study one-shots. i also dm'd a homebrew campaign for about a year, so i got to write a lot of worldbuilding stuff ; the campaign exploded due to personal reasons, & the group isn't playing together anymore, so i haven't had chances to do dnd-related writing in while.

do you expect your answered memes/asks to be turned into threads? regardless of answer, what’s your reasoning?

i don't expect it, but i do encourage it, as i very rarely manage to wrangle up plotted starters, & i've always found asks to be great jumping off points for interactions. not everything has to be planned, & sometimes the greatest threads can come from off-hand replies that simply grew & spiraled.

what roleplay trends do you remember from the year you started tumblr rp? how did you feel about those trends?

so. i've been here since 2009. smile.

muse a: My first true threading experience was with the chat post format for threads. muse b: Threads that went on for at least 30 replies without trimming. muse a: That looked like the backlogs of IM threads. muse b: Complete with-- *actions*

it's in a similar vein to how often threads wouldn't get trimmed until the oldest reply was squished by the blockquote to individual words. good riddance to that, i can't believe there were people genuinely upset by the loss of blockquote walls, but the chat post thing is a fond memory, if only for that being how i did my first ever threads here.

big fuck-off jpegs instead of icons, even before gif hunts solidified themselves, think dollmaker game downloads, like how some people nowadays use picrews but with zero of the cropping. i was part of the crowd, & i was more than happy to switch to scouring gif hunts, then icon hunts, then learning to make icons myself.

magic anons were literally everywhere you blinked, & even if they weren't Magic Anons a bunch of people treated anons as simply blank-faced characters that could interact & talk to the muses like any dedicated-blog character might. they were fun, & i know anons still get treated with some degree of agency now, but no one's really threading with anons these days, y'know ; i like where we are with them right now.

everyone had the same handful of free template blog themes, the most widely used ones being fluid & redux. i've all but entirely switched to dash-only, but the template themes were nice, & seeing an ancient blog that still has one of them feels like stepping into a vintage bookshop.

[cyuuttee]

Travel Diaries; Edinburgh, Scotland.

Embarking on new adventures is undeniably one of the most thoughtful and meaningful presents one can receive. It goes beyond material possessions, offering the priceless gift of shared experiences and the creation of everlasting memories. Travelling allows you to invest in the currency of time together, painting a masterpiece of cherished memories that will decorate that gallery of your life.

Expressing gratitude to my wonderful, caring, and supportive befriend for the birthday gift. I am incredibly fortunate.

♡

Edinburgh Castle

First stop of the day, the historic castle of Edinburgh. Located at the top of Castle Rock, this is the most paid tourist attraction in Scotland and a must see if you find yourself in the heart of the capital. Overall, this took us roughly two hours to explore unguided, and the views from the castle are stunning, offering panoramic glimpses of the city below.  You can take a scenic walk up the Royal Mile to capture the historic vibes but my boyfriend and I had arrived by taxi as we would have missed the 15 minute window that the pre-booked ticket allows us to enter the attraction.   I highly recommend securing tickets in advance, as they are prone to selling out. It was quite busy on the day, with queues forming at the main tower inside the attraction with an approximate wait time of twenty minutes although we arrived at 11:30. Overall, a lovely start to our morning embracing ourselves in Scotland’s rich history.  Ticket Admission: £19.50

Camera Obscura & World of Illusions

Having explored the Camera Obscura during a school tour in Edinburgh before, I cherished the memories so much that I decided to introduce the experience to my boyfriend.  This was a fun and interactive activity and only a 5 minute walk south of Edinburgh castle. We dedicated about an hour and a half exploring and navigating the various floors packed with mind bending illusions and games. The rooftop, serving as the grand finale, stood out as my favourite part, offering a picture-perfect vantage point. With its appeal across all age groups, the exhibition was a perfect blend of fun and fascination. Definitely worth a visit for some lighthearted fun.  Ticket Admission: £21.95

Armchair Books

Stepping into this pre-loved bookshop was an enchanting experience. It exuded a quiet charm, welcoming visitors with open arms. The shelves, reaching from floor to ceiling through a narrow, alley-like walkway, were crammed with books of all kinds. Although I personally couldn’t locate the specific book I was on the hunt for (a challenging quest, to be honest-I'm still on the lookout!). This quaint bookstore proved to be a heavenly haven for all avid book lovers.

Edinburgh Books

Discovering yet another enchanting bookstore filled with an array of second hand, collectable and rare edition books. My boyfriend left here delighted as he bagged four fishing books, not typically found in your average library. The owner, hailing from Donegal, picked up on our Irish accents and initiated a friendly conversation. To add to the charm, a young boy engrossed in a book on fishing flies approached us, passionately sharing his love for the art itself. This heartwarming encounter made the visit truly special, and I could have lost track of time immersing myself.

 W. Armstrong & Son Vintage Clothing Emporium 

I could not believe the great selection of clothing this vintage store had to offer, which not only featured a diverse range of sizes (all labelled & organised) but was also reasonably priced. Richard was thrilled to snag the most adorable ‘’Country Lakes’’ woolen jumper for just £20, and it was in mint condition. While I spotted a few charming pieces for myself, I didn’t urgently need new clothing, so I decided to leave them behind for the next lucky shopper. Nonetheless, the experience left me contemplating a return to Edinburgh with an empty suitcase, to indulge in a guilt-free shopping spree.

Bread St. Kitchen & Bar, Gordon Ramsey Restaurant

Foodie post pending…

[scarfman]

Friends Reunited! Christmas at The Vintage Bookshop of Memories by Elizabeth Holland. A Review.

Friends Reunited! Christmas at The Vintage Bookshop of Memories by Elizabeth Holland. A Review.

We are once again invited into the magical world of the inhabitants of Ivy Hatch, in Elizabeth Holland’s brand-new offering, Christmas at The Vintage Bookshop of Memories. 

Readable as a standalone book or as a follow-up to the excellent The Vintage Bookshop of Memories, this once again is another welcome addition to the romance fiction genre. 

Nonetheless, the characterisation and plot to

[jonathantaylor]

Vintage Bookshop of Memories, Review (paraphrase) by JonathanTaylor19

[watchmegetobsessed]

DATING HARRY IN COLLEGE - headcanon

A/N: so i've been thinking about trying myself out in headcanons and i finally caved in... this is my first attempt, pls be kind to my fragile heart, im just testing the waters out 😂

WORD COUNT: 709

You meet at your first ever college party. He spots you from across the room and plays it cool as he introduces himself to you.

The two of you hit it off instantly, but at first it's all just friendly. You find out that you have a few classes together and he sits next to you in all of them, just so he can steal glances at you when you're too focused on the professor to notice.

You grab coffee together, study in the library together, exchange notes, well, mostly Harry is the one in need of your notes, because he always gets lost in his daydreams about you instead of listening. But you happily let him copy them.

He quickly becomes your best friend, always hanging out together, talking about anything and everything. Your other friends are joking about the two of you being like a couple, but you just nervously shrug it off.

Of course you are into him too, how could you not? He is the sweetest, most handsome guy you'd ever known, it would be impossible not to fall for him. But you never let yourself believe even just for a moment that your feelings might be reciprocated.

Right until things get a bit more... romantic.

He gets cuddlier, touches you more, he always wants to play with your hair or hand in class, completely ignoring the professor. His thigh always presses against yours when he sits next to you in the cafeteria and he starts dropping more and more compliments.

"Wow, you look wonderful today!"

"I love your hair like this."

"Is this a new dress? Looks very pretty on you."

"I'm so lucky such a pretty girl is helping me with my paper."

Your cheeks heat up every time and just tell yourself that he is this flirty with everyone. But his words usually get stuck with you for a long time, you think about them when you're not with him, burning them deep into your memory.

Your girlfriends all tell you that you should shoot your shot and that he is obviously into you, but you just roll your eyes at them, however they definitely get you to question what you've believed until now.

You become very aware of his actions and words and you start to show your interest as well.

You give him compliments too.

"This hoodie goes well with your beautiful green eyes, H."

"The girls in my dorm will be jealous that such a handsome guy is walking me home."

"I like making you smile."

You doodle in his notebooks in class and play footsies with him in the cafeteria.

When he leans into you at a party you go with it and hook an arm around his waist, which results with his arm around your shoulders.

He doesn't let go of you that evening, he keeps touching you somehow. A hand on your waist, his head resting on your shoulder and when he's had a few beers he builds up his courage to hold your hand.

"You're extremely pretty tonight," he murmurs into your ear.

"And you're very handsome," you reply.

That night he walks you home from the party and finally kisses you and you officially become a couple.

From then, he takes you out on dates all the time.

Picnic in the park, movie nights, he takes you to that vintage bookshop near campus every month and buys you anything you want.

He treats you like a princess and you know every girl is jealous of you in school.

He is always showing you off and talks about you all the time to his mates.

"She is so amazing, I got so lucky."

"Y/N is it for me, man. I just know it."

Summers are a bit hard, spending it so far away from each other, but you both visit the other and when september comes again, you're back to your usual routine.

Of course, you're still going strong at graduation, you're that annoyingly adorable couple that's been together since freshman year and you're still very much in love.

You take cute pictures in your graduation gowns, switching your caps and kissing.

And then you finally start your new life together, outside of campus.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[notchesandbullets]

Vintage Books and Midnight Promises (Tattooed!Bakugou x Bookworm!Reader) Modern!AU

Warnings: none, just fluff. features Child!Eijirou, Child!Izuku and brief Dadzawa at the end

Synopsis: Your days are brightened by the appearance of Eijirou and Izuku but you don’t recognize the tattooed man who accompanied the two children into your bookshop one day. But he finds his way into your heart and before you can stop it, you’re already in too deep for the man with tattoos that rippled like the purest form of water and smelled like blueberries hand-picked on the warmest day.

Inspired by: @all1e23 ‘s series “Astrophile” (this is one of my favorite comfort fanfics, i highly recommend it)

Words: 9.8k

It was a beautiful, sunny day.

Steam coming from a hot cup of coffee curled in the air and you sighed as you set down the porcelain teacup that had been a gift from your grandmother on the front desk, sinking deeper into the velvety cushion of your seat as you basked in the tranquility of the empty store before the bell on the door would inevitably ring again.

The musty yet homey scent of secondhand books clung to the worn pages in all the stories of mystery, fantasy and nonfiction that filled the old and rickety oak shelving you had bought at an auction five years ago.

The cornershop sat at the end of a particularly quaint neighborhood in the small town you lived in and you couldn’t imagine anything else more relaxing other than grabbing a cup of coffee from the loft upstairs and curling up with a good book until store hours were over.

You got a steady stream of regulars and occasionally a few new faces here and there that ended up coming back quite frequently. You hoped that had something to do with the notion that they liked to read, since that’s all you could really hold a conversation about.

The latest thriller that was published or that underrated author that never seemed to get enough attention in your opinion, even though their work was such a delight for you to read, whatever it was, you could talk about books for hours.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard to act normal around those vastly more social than you.

Ever since you could remember, you had your nose buried in a book, bumping into street lamps and crashing into people as you failed to look up for even a second to see where you were going.

People never seemed to quite understand you, why you preferred the company of books over people, but you didn’t need them to understand. Books were all you had and you liked to keep it that way.

Books were consistent and there would always be more literature to read.

Luckily, it was a weekday so business was pretty slow and in just another hour, you would be free to finish up repainting the storefront.

But first, you needed to conclude this book. You were so close to the ending and the author had been stringing you along on a thread of hope that the protagonist was going to make it out and save the day, you were on the edge of your seat!!

Your eyes flitted across the pages at a speed too fast for human eyes to comprehend and you were so engrossed in the book that you didn’t notice the shadow that passed by outside.

You jumped as the door to your little bookshop flew open with a bang, losing your balance from where you had been perched on your favorite stool and crashed to the floor.

Sitting up with a groan of pain, you rubbed your now sore bottom and winced. “Ow…”

You hadn’t anticipated someone coming and wreaking havoc on your little shop. It was a good thing you had a good memory and had marked the page you left off of in your head or else that customer that had so rudely barged in would be getting more than just some curt words from you.

“Sorry.” A curt and gruff apology came from over the counter and your mouth pressed in a hard line as you got to your feet.

“Is everything alright?” You asked slowly, brushing the dust off of your clothes and making eye contact with the stranger for the first time.

In front of you was some punk who had incredibly intricate tattoos visible on his arms.

You eyed him up and down. He was pretty tall. Okay, correct that, he towered a good head over you, but what was the most intimidating was that scowl on his face that looked like it was permanently glued there for some reason.

His shoulders were broad and even under that sleeveless tank he was wearing, his muscles rippled and you rolled your eyes.

So he was one of those.

But you stopped a bit of ink twining up his neck and cocked an eyebrow at the prospect of him having more underneath his clothes.

You didn’t react despite where your mind just went, internally screaming at yourself to get a grip.

Guys like him didn’t randomly walk into a bookshop like yours. You had half a mind to call the police, thinking he was about to loot your store, but hesitated because he hadn’t done anything and it was wrong to judge someone you didn’t know under stereotypes that were groomed into you from a young age.

Not to mention, if he actually was going to rob you for whatever reason, he wouldn't have announced his presence like that.

Unless he was an idiot. Either one was equally possible at the moment while you waited for him to say something. Anything.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He said shortly after a pause, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and your stance softened a bit when you noticed how uncomfortable he looked. You could understand that feeling.

Plastering a smile on your face, you leaned back and shrugged, accepting what you suspected to be his version of an apology. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“Miss Y/N!!! Miss Y/N!!! Down here!!!”

“We’re down here!!!”

The small, childish chorus had your eyes brightening up in an instant as you recognized the voices and you were racing out from behind the counter within a second.

“Eijirou, Izuku!!” You knelt down to hug both of the toddlers tightly. “I didn't know you two were coming today!!”

They normally came on the weekends with their dad, it was so rare to see them on a weekday, with a new face nonetheless.

Eijirou’s shiny red eyes blinked up at you and he beamed brightly while Izuku shuffled his feet self-consciously, sniffling as he clutched his All Might plushie tight to his chest.

You cooed, lifting his chin sweetly to wipe away the tears. “What's wrong, Izuku?”

He sniffled, hugging his comfort plushie tighter as he pointed up to the scowling man that had accompanied them. “He… He’s mean.”

The ash-blond’s forehead creased in annoyance as you sent him a questioning look. “Shut your mouth, you fucking brat!!”

You covered Eijirou and Izuku’s ears, glaring at him. He matched it in intensity and it wasn’t until you saw how he wasn’t going to back down that you sighed, breaking off eye contact and conceding as you caught the tears streaming down Izuku’s round cheeks.

“Yeah, he’s big and scary, let’s leave him here, okay?” You said to the little boy, pretending not to notice the punk’s glare following the two of you as you led the now cheered up Izuku over to the back of the store.

Every time they came, you made sure to have the children’s area brushed up for them. The floor to ceiling windows in that one corner in the back had deep purple curtains drawn open during the day, shining light directly on the soft leather sofa that belonged to your family.

The perfect place to read.

A tug on the man’s hand had him looking down.

“Bakugou!!” The red-haired toddler shouted excitedly, frantically pulling him to where you were at only to run out of breath from his efforts as the man didn’t budge. “I want to go too!!”

“You’re staying here where I can see you, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou grumbled, running an exasperated hand through his spiky hair as he waited for the other brat to come back so that they could leave.

“You can come with!!” Eijirou begged, still trying to convince the stubborn man who was their guardian for the time being while their dad was busy. He huffed and puffed but still he didn’t move an inch.

He snorted haughtily, his grip tightening on the brat’s when he switched tactics and tried to pry off the hand that was holding his. “Like hell I would.”

Eijirou’s lower lip wobbled dangerously as he stopped fighting. “But you promised!!”

Bakugou inwardly groaned and looked away from the toddler. Tears from the brats were his fucking weakness and he hated it. But he still wasn’t going to let him.

The only reason why he agreed to take them here in the first place was because they wouldn’t shut up, begging for him to take them to the bookstore that they visited every week with their dad over and over again, promising that they wouldn’t ask for anything else the whole rest of the day.

They just wanted to see you.

Bakugou only agreed because they crossed their hearts that they would be quiet if he took them and if they didn’t make good on their word, then he would blow them up.

But what he didn’t mention was that he was a little intrigued by the girl that they talked about excitedly all the way there.

Tch, shitty brats. Fucking annoying.

Eijirou never cared about his threats when he declared that he would blow them up, going so far as to smile brightly in his face, completely unaffected while that shitty nerd’s face went ashen and lost all its color as he cowered behind his brother to avoid the scary man that towered over them.

Izuku lacked the spine that Eijirou had.

Bakugou pushed off the counter that he was leaning against as you came back into view with a happy Izuku in tow.

Eijirou visibly deflated and tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “You’re all done? B-But I wanted to pick some out too!!”

You hushed him softly as you saw how close he was to sobbing, crouching down to his level and ruffled his hair. “You can choose what you want too, Eiji.”

His whole face lit up. “Really?!”

“Of course!!” You reassured with a smile, the edges of your eyes crinkling as you stood up and offered him your other hand that wasn’t joined with Izuku’s. But after Izuku swung your hand, you took that as your cue to let go. “Come on!!”

This time, Bakugou wasn’t fast enough to intervene as Eijirou took your hand and zoomed off with you trailing behind him, practically dragging you behind him as he took on the personality of a race car. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to leave this place that had absolutely no business with and he clenched his hands into fists, storming over to where the two of you ran off to with full intention of grabbing the shitty brat and exiting with nothing more than a word.

But he faltered at the sound of your laughter bouncing off the bookshelves and unconsciously retracted his hand as he turned the corner.

To be honest, he didn’t know what made him stop. But seeing you there, with Eijirou tuckered out in your lap as you read him a book, Izuku bounding past him just to cuddle up on your other side was making him soft.

Fuck emotions. He hated having a heart.

You were seated on a huge, tan leather sofa that looked worn with age and was packed with brightly-colored pillows that looked much softer than he wanted to admit as he found himself drifting towards the three of you.

Truth be told, he only took them here because they were begging for either this or the zoo and he could not fucking stand the zoo.

What the fuck was so interesting about animals locked in a pen?

“Get up brats, we’re leaving.” Bakugou barked, glaring pointedly at the fucking brats when they cracked their eyes open as you stopped reading.

A chorus of whines and protests followed by some very pouty begging made you crack a smile at his unchanging demeanor.

“You know~” You sang, holding back a giggle at the suspicious look the man shot you as you shut the children’s book you were reading in favor of glancing at the two kids out of the corner of your eye. “I do have a ton of pizza that needs to be finished today. I don't suppose there's anyone out there that can help me with such a big task.”

Izuku and Eijirou shrieked in delight, bouncing up and down on the sofa, alternating between screaming yes and pleading for him to let them stay.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was fucking irritated as hell.

You were trying to bribe him with pizza? How un-fucking-believable. You were worse than the two troublemakers shrieking so loud, it felt like his head was going to split. He didn’t believe what he just heard. But was it working?

Yup.

Because your sundress flared around your knees as you crossed your legs to accommodate both the boys. The tresses of your hair fell around your face so softly he vaguely wondered if it was even possible for someone to look so innocent while conducting a pizza scheme.

Izuku scratched his head cutely as he yawned widely, exhausted from all the hopping he just did as Eijirou began to jump up and down around you, his endless energy coming off of him in waves.

“We can help!!!” He cried, tugging Izuku upright and the little boy stumbled, landing on his rear on the couch with an ‘oof’.

But he didn't cry. Instead, he tilted his head curiously and blinked. “We can?”

“Yes!!” Eijirou insisted. He wanted pizza. He loved pizza. And Bakugou never treated them to it whenever he watched them, he said it would make them fat. “Please Bakugou!!!”

You raised an eyebrow as you heard the punk’s name for the first time. It sounded fitting for such a stoic and emotionless person that he was portraying at the moment as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the red-haired toddler.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about referring to your elders, Shitty Hair?”

“Ahh!!” You blurted out, sending him a sharp look that was meant to reprimand him. “Don't swear in front of them!!”

Bakugou glared at you uncaringly and you matched it, throwing in a pout for good measure.

You had no idea what was giving you all this confidence now. You had never been this comfortable interacting with a stranger. You blamed it on the children. They were far too familiar.

The moment of silence as you glared at each other was broken when both of the boys jumped down from the sofa at the same time.

Weird.

“Ahh, don’t go too far!!” You called out after them as you sprang up. “And don’t leave the store!!”

“M’kay!!!” Eijirou shouted back as he tugged Izuku, who was struggling to catch up, behind him. “Can I flip the sign, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled, hiding a grin from Bakugou as you nodded even though they couldn’t see. “Yes, just be careful and don’t go outside!!”

As he yelled that he knew back at you, you moved into a better light so that that one bookshelf wasn’t blocking your view of them so you could see them. Once you were in direct line of sight, your smile softened as you saw Eijirou lift Izuku up so that he could reach the sign and flip it around to show that you were closed for the day.

“They’re so sweet to each other.” You murmured to yourself.

The closeness of Bakugou’s scoff had you jumping back in surprise and you winced as your back crashed into the bookshelf behind you.

“Geez, I was going to say hell no.” Bakugou started as he chortled, smirking at you as you collected yourself. “But you’re even more of a klutz than that shitty nerd is.”

Brushing down your skirt, you coughed a couple times to cover up your blush of embarrassment. “I am not.”

“Uh, yeah you are.”

“Oh hush.” You snapped at him as the boys came bounding back, Izuku proudly holding up another book he wanted you to read for him that he found on the way back.

You giggled and ruffled his hair affectionately before asking if they’d like to continue reading here or up in the loft, to which they both sprinted to the stairs.

Well, that answered that question.

You sent a smile over your shoulder, inviting the grumpy man to follow you. “You coming or what?”

Bakugou hid a smirk as you turned back around and followed the hyperactive kids up the stairs.

You sure were interesting, he’d give you that.

And that night, the four of you fell asleep in the loft, with four boxes of cheese, pepperoni and half-eaten vegetarian pizzas surrounding you as Izuku curled up beside you and Eijirou snored on top of Bakugou’s head.

You were very happy to see that it wasn’t the last time you saw the forever annoyed man who had barged into your store.

It had been a month since that day. And since then, Bakugou had become a regular face and you dreaded how you subconsciously looked forward to when he would show up randomly.

One time, he had popped in your store just to grunt out a greeting and toss a bag at you, demanding that you eat it or else he would fucking kill you, before leaving.

Opening it up, you saw the freshly-baked blueberry muffin inside. And when you bit into it, it was delicious.

The only thing that confused you was that there was no good bakery around here, so you had absolutely no idea where he got it from.

Today, another weekday, they came again all bright smiles and sunshine and you bolted off your stool, abandoning your freshly-brewed coffee to greet them before they could even step into the bookstore.

There were still a few hours of daylight until closing time and you had some more things to finish up.

Bakugou leaned against the wall as you rearranged the display on the top shelf. The ever energetic Izuku and Eijirou had sped over to their corner the second they ran into the store, greeting you over their shoulder as the two boys tunneled past you.

You had pouted but let them go have their fun since tonight would be another night of pizza and soft drinks while you read them their favorite books.

Last time, Eijirou came to you with a stack of at least fifteen and you nearly had a laughing fit when one of them was a little too high for his age group.

He could read all those young adult novels with glorious battles featuring knights and dragons when his vocabulary increased a bit more.

A green-haired boy with freckles toddled up to you with his counterpart and buddy in crime nowhere to be seen.

Giggling, you approved the ones that Izuku held up to you with wide eyes blinking slowly.

“I’ll read it for you a little later, yeah?” You said, patting his head.

“Okay!!”

You flailed for a second as you lost your balance, the little boy disappearing from sight once again before he could realize you were off kilter due to the speed that he zipped at but a pair of strong hands settled on your waist to steady you.

Lips parting in surprise, you turned around to see Bakugou’s trademark sneer as he stared up at you.

“Dumbass.”

“Hey!!” You protested, all gratitude gone, and your lips pursed in a firm line as you disputed his claim.

But you were startled at the rough rumble that emitted from his chest and it took you a second to realize that he was laughing. At your expense, but still, it warmed your heart to hear.

“Well, look at that.” You teased. “He’s not so cold after all.”

“Tch.” Bakugou’s amusement faded as he glared at you for that but you just brushed it off.

You turned your attention back to the top shelf but misjudged the distance as you stretched out your hand. Yelping as one of the stool legs gave out, you careened to the side and squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact.

But your eyes shot open as you didn’t hit the ground like you expected. Instead, you landed on something softer than the hardwood floor.

When a pained groan sounded underneath you, you scrambled upright.

“Oh my gosh!! I’m so sorry!!!”

Bakugou had somehow cushioned your fall, making you land on him rather than crash to the ground.

Your cheeks flamed when you realized you were straddling his waist, hands splayed on his chest and you squeaked when he caught you staring.

“Oi, are you going to fucking stare at me all day?” Bakugou snarked and you huffed, clambering off of him clumsily.

It was a good thing you weren’t wearing a dress today. That would’ve been so embarrassing.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologized again, sheepishly tucking your hair behind your ear as you tried to appear less frazzled than you felt as he picked himself up from the floor.

Before he could say anything, though it was probably something not very nice, Izuku ran around the corner with Eijirou hot on his heels.

“Miss Y/N!!!” Izuku called out breathlessly, his chubby cheeks flushed pink from running so fast. “Miss Y/N!!! I have a secret to tell you!!”

“Izuku, I want to tell her!!!” Eijirou complained with a small pout.

“No, I want to!!!” He pushed back fiercely before he turned to you with bright forest green eyes and beamed. “Miss Y/N—”

“Bakugou has a crush on you!!!!” Eijirou interrupted, dancing in circles around you and out of Bakugou’s reach as the man swiped at him.

Bakugou snarled as the toddler screeched and dived in between his legs to escape him. “Get back here, you fucking brat!!!!”

Izuku tugged on your pant leg, tears brimming in his eyes as his lower lip trembled. “M-Miss Y/N…”

Your giggles died down as Bakugou continued to chase Eijirou and you smiled reassuringly, bending down to pick him up.

“Aww, it’s okay, Izuku.” You reassured with a chirpy smile. “If you want, we can just pretend you told me, yeah?”

He smiled and kicked his feet happily, giggling as he waved his All Might plushie back and forth.

“Do we get to stay tonight too?”

“Yup!!” You beamed, hoisting him higher as you collected the book that you needed to put away and balance it on your head so that you could hold the toddler with two hands. “I already checked it with your dad and he said it was okay!!”

Aizawa had sounded stressed when you called him but that was to be expected. His line of work was tough but he had quickly agreed to it. He had interacted with you enough to know that you looked out for them almost as much as he did.

Besides, in the small town, word got around fast. If there was dirt on you, he would’ve heard about it by now.

Izuku tugged on your braid innocently to catch your attention. “Can we leave him downstairs when you read to us?”

You giggled and booped his nose, watching it scrunch up cutely. You already knew he was talking about Bakugou. “Why do you want him to stay downstairs?”

Izuku pouted. “Because he snores too loud.”

“Hah?! Say it to my face, Deku!!!” Bakugou’s yell echoed from somewhere on the other side of the store and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

“C’mon,” You said softly, bouncing Izuku on your hip as you crept around the other side. “Let’s go see if we can help Eiji and then we’ll sneak upstairs before he finds us, yeah?”

“Yayyy!!!” Izuku cheered happily.

“FOUND YOU, SHITTY NERD!!!”

“Uh oh, Miss Y/N, run!!!!!”

An hour and a lot of duct tape later, Bakugou was sitting in the punishment chair for those that misbehaved while you read to the boys upstairs.

About ten minutes later, you flicked the lights off upstairs as you headed back down, being careful about which lamps to turn on since you didn’t want to wake the kids.

You fought back a grin as you saw the poorly wrapped duct tape tying his wrist to the chair. Apparently you could’ve been more clear to the boys that since the stuff was sticky, they didn’t have to necessarily tie it around his arm like string.

You were quite sure that Bakugou could've gotten up if he wanted to so you left him down there but when you finished the last book and he was nowhere to be seen, you came downstairs only to find him in the exact same position you left him in.

“What's wrong? Tied you up too tight?” You teased, knowing it had no merit.

“Ha ha, you’re so fucking funny.” Bakugou glowered at you, then his blank expression morphed into subtle curiosity. “The brats asleep?”

“Yeah,” You said, rubbing your arms as a breeze blew by and you frowned as you held out your hand and started to follow it all the way to its source and it only furrowed deeper when you deduced that it was coming from a crack in the front door. “Rats.”

“What the…” Bakugou trailed off as he came up behind you and at this point you didn’t even flinch.

For someone who was so tall and had such a fit physique, he sure moved like the wind. You were used to it by now.

You sighed, planting your hands on your hips after testing the lock to make sure it still worked properly. Thank goodness that was still fine. “It happens every winter. I think it has something to do with the wood and the weather when the temperature drops but I already fixed it this past season so I don’t know why…”

Burrowing your face in your hands, you groaned and tried to put it in back of your mind for now.

But Bakugou’s brow knitted at the safety concern and he jangled the knob to play around with it.

By the time you had stopped trying to think of ways to solve this problem temporarily until you had the means for a more permanent solution, Bakugou had fixed it.

Your jaw dropped as you saw he had stuffed some kind of weather strip you had laying in the corner with the rest of the maintenance tools collecting dust and bluntly claimed he’d fix it in the morning for you.

“You don’t have to do that!!” You cried out, feeling bad and not wanting to owe him anything.

Bakugou snorted. “That wasn’t a fucking question, dumbass.”

You opened your mouth to protest but the pitter-patter of tiny feet scaling down the stairs made you both raise your heads.

Your eyes filled with concern as you saw the little boy dragging a blankie behind him with his thumb stuck in his mouth.

“Izuku?” You rushed over and dropped down to the floor, not caring how you scraped your knees in the process. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“... had a nightmare…” He mumbled under his breath, close to tears and your gaze softened sympathetically.

Opening your arms to him, you caught yourself as he ran into you and you walked back to where Bakugou was observing.

Nightmare. You mouthed at him and his eyes grew dark for a second.

You didn’t understand why but you didn’t ask any questions as you focused on consoling the crying boy.

“Hey, Izuku,” You whispered softly when he had calmed down enough to be coherent and tell you a little what it was about. “You know what always makes me feel better?”

He blinked up at you. “Pizza?”

You giggled and tapped his nose gently. “Well yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of ice cream…”

You didn’t miss the way eyes lit up and he automatically turned to an indifferent Bakugou watching the both of you while leaning against the wall with a pleading expression, and immediately, the man was shaking his head violently.

“Hell no.” He refused flatly. Upon the fresh tears that welled up in Izuku’s eyes, he turned to you, as though he needed to prove to you that he had a good reason for saying no. “It’s late out.”

“There’s a 24/7 store that carries ice cream right down the street.” You supplied helpfully, smiling innocently when he glared at you.

Bakugou sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it in frustration. “It’s dark, Y/N. It’s dangerous.”

“I can go.” You suggested, trying to pry off an Izuku who was clinging to you.

“The hell? Fuck no.” Bakugou hissed and you sighed, giving up on trying to make the green bundle that was pretending to be a leech unstick from you.

“I’ll be right back.” You negotiated. “It’s not even that far—”

“You’re not going.”

You balked at the unrelenting tone he took with you but shut your mouth when you saw the look in his eyes. The look that told you he had seen things that he probably would never tell you.

You saw it in the way his hands shook ever so slightly when he held either Eijirou or Izuku, like he was afraid they would disappear on him the second he let go. You knew that kind of fear and you didn’t argue against him.

But before you could smile sadly at Izuku for letting him down, Bakugou was stomping upstairs and waking up the other slumbering toddler.

There was a muffled shout and then a grunt from above.

“Wake up, Shitty Hair.”

“Eh?! Where are we going?!”

You winced as a crash sounded from the upper level. You didn’t want to know what he broke this time.

But you followed Bakugou’s thinking. Even if the door was sturdy for now, it wasn’t a good idea to leave a child alone for whatever reason, even if you weren’t going to be gone long. If Eijirou woke up all alone, there was a good possibility he would venture outside by himself and that wouldn’t be good.

Besides, Eijirou would be sad if he missed out on this adventure.

It had taken five minutes for Bakugou to wrangle Eijirou, who was way too energetic this late at night, and an additional ten just before the four of you left the store.

Bakugou locked it behind you as you carried Izuku out.

Initially, he had insisted that he could carry him to give you a break but you told him you didn’t mind.

And you really didn’t. The little boy was snoozing softly against your shoulder and you were happy that you could provide some small amount of comfort to him after such a scary bad dream.

The trip was pretty uneventful. Nothing happened, you guys got there safely, Bakugou paid for more ice cream than you guys could consume in one night, saying something about how it was so he didn’t have to do this whole thing again and you walked back.

There were some stragglers out and you got a couple of glances that normally would’ve made your skin crawl but for some reason, this time you felt reassured as Bakugou drifted to your side and kept you close as he made sure Eijirou didn’t let go of his hand.

Eijirou was good, for the most part.

He was unusually serious and didn’t goof off inside the grocery store like he did in your bookshop and you were grateful for that. You didn’t know if you had the energy to chase him down like Bakugou had done earlier if he decided he wanted to play hide-and-seek.

At one point, Bakugou’s free hand that wasn’t busy holding onto the tubs of ice cream or Eijirou, to make sure he didn’t wander off, crept around your shoulders and pulled you close when someone who was drunk out of their minds strayed too close to you.

“Back the fuck off.” He growled protectively as he tucked you and Izuku into his side, glaring at them until they got the message and went on their way.

You were thankful that there wasn’t enough light for him to see the blush present on your cheeks and as you stepped back inside the safety of your bookstore, the boys going after the comfort ice cream like puppies with ice, you didn’t know quite how to feel when his scorching touch left you.

And you wondered why your heart was beating so fast.

By the time the next weekend had rolled around, it was their twentieth time coming together and you were starting to get a bit alarmed at how familiar their appearance was. You actually had to stop in your tracks when you realized you not only were looking forward to seeing Izuku and Eijirou but also Bakugou.

Crap.

That punk had wormed his way into your heart even more but you’d be damned if you let him stay there.

Convincing yourself you’d get over this petty little crush before it became a problem, you picked out some gifts for the two boys the next time you would see them.

By the time you had walked down the street to your shop from the toy store, you actually realized that they beat you to it. You had to calm the two toddlers down as they ran up to greet you, Eijirou vastly quicker on his feet than Izuku, even though the little boy tried his hardest.

They squealed as you gave them presents, showing them off to Bakugou and sped off into their corner to go play. Just like clockwork.

“So…” You started, cringing at how awkward you sounded now that you were alone with Bakugou. “Where’s their dad today?”

Bakugou coughed, then cleared his throat. “You mean that scruffy old man?”

You cracked a smile. “That’s the one.”

He was always with them. He was the first one to bring the boys in on a slow day, which quickly livened up due to the endless amount of energy contained inside a little Eijirou and a tiny Izuku.

Midgets. You loved them so much.

Their cheeks were so squishy, too. Adorable.

It had been months since you had last seen Aizawa and you were a little bit worried about him. But you figured if anyone would know if he was okay would be the man entrusted to watch his sons.

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest so that his muscles bulged out from that sleeveless tank he was wearing. The patches of ink rippled in the light and moved almost like it was real. “Aizawa-sensei’s not their dad but he acts like it too fucking much to pretend that it’s not true anymore.”

You giggled at his harsh words edged with a bit of something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that sounded like begrudging fondness.

Bakugou jerked his chin to where Izuku was chasing after Eijirou, begging him to help him get a book down from the shelf. Usually, you’d go help them but the adorable little toddler puffed out his chest and started clambering up the step ladder to get it.

Bakugou had bought that one himself to replace the rickety one you had accidentally broken and fallen off of so you knew it was sturdy. They would only fall off of it if they weren’t careful but you were within sight of them so you weren’t too worried.

“He’s enlisted in the military so he can’t always watch them even after they blacklisted him. His old unit just recently got reinstated.” Bakugou said with a scowl, not bothering to elaborate on that, but his eyes softened the tiniest bit as Izuku huffed and puffed to catch up with Eijirou, his little legs working overtime to compensate for his lack of height. “So he gave the brats to me to make sure they didn’t kill themselves or something.”

You grinned, clasping your hands behind your back and stuck your face close to his, skirt swirling around your ankles as you sent him a cheeky smile.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?”

“Shut the hell up, no I didn’t!!” He shouted but you bit back the smile threatening to overtake your entire face.

“You’re too easy to read~” You teased.

Bakugou grabbed for you but you dodged easily. Gritting his teeth in determination, he ran after you and you yelped at how quickly he was gaining on you.

Damn, it was a bad day to wear these shoes.

You ducked around the corner only for him to catch up to you in a split second. You squeaked as he slammed you into the bookshelf, caging you in between his arms as he smirked down at you.

“I won.” He declared triumphantly.

You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue. “Such a child.”

Bakugou scowled. You were one to talk, taunting him like you two were friends or something. “Oi, fucking take that back.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “Or you’ll do what? Try to punch me again? Maybe this time you’ll actually land one and not miss like a lose—”

You gasped as his chest bumped into yours, his red eyes glimmering dangerously. His breath was hot against your face and your heart stopped.

“I don’t fucking lose.” He growled.

You gulped. Perhaps you had crossed a line. Your gaze darted away from him for a second, not even bothering to push him away because you knew you couldn’t.

“Thank you.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow in surprise but masked it quickly. “For what?”

“For the other day.” You clarified. “I think I would’ve been screwed if you hadn’t come with, so thank you.”

He snorted and looked away. “Don’t mention it, dumbass.”

You were going to leave it at that but at that moment, a soft giggle floated through the air along with some very loud and obvious shushing.

Bakugou immediately tore after the little brats without a second thought as both Eijirou and Izuku poked their heads around the corner to spy on you and you threw your head back and laughed.

They were so goofy but maybe that crush they had told you about that you had so easily dismissed at first wasn’t so ridiculous after all.

While you were busy helping other customers throughout the day, Bakugou occasionally came to check in on you and make sure you were taking your breaks and eating, all while reassuring you that the shitty brats were fucking fine and you didn’t need to be worried about shit.

He could handle it.

You smiled and waved a hand at him when he left, giggling when he flipped you the bird before turning to the next person who wanted to check out.

The sun set and night fell, all along with the comfortable routine you had grown accustomed to having with all three of the boys.

But you bolted upright as Eijirou nonchalantly revealed something you didn’t expect the instant you finished setting up the tent for movie night.

“IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?!?!” You screeched in Bakugou’s ear.

Bakugou clapped a hand over your mouth, sending you a death glare, undoubtedly for your insanely loud volume, but you wrangled him off of you.

“Bu— You— Why didn’t you say something?!”

He looked at you as though you were crazy. You two barely knew each other and if he knew it was going to spur on this reaction, he definitely would’ve stopped Shitty Hair from saying that shit.

Too late now.

Bakugou slumped back against the makeshift fort you had set up for the boys in the loft. Said troublesome toddlers were currently going to town on your DVD collection so that they could choose a movie for tonight.

You only had cartoons from your childhood so it was a perfect selection for them. They were currently hunting through the bookshelf in your room that was connected to upper floor, just down the hall.

“What the hell is there to tell?” He grunted in your direction, a deep seated scowl on his features from the starry blankets and pillows that surrounded him.

You frowned. Growing up, birthdays had always been days that you looked forward to. The parties, the presents, family and friends to celebrate it with, you always loved it. Maybe there was a reason he didn’t want to celebrate it.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you idly rocked back and forth as you thought about how best to approach the reproachful man.

Bakugou sighed and glared at your crossly. You weren’t going to let this go until he gave you an answer.

“There ain’t no deep reason for it, none of that bullshit.” He ground out eventually and you perked your head up, listening attentively. “I don’t see what’s so special about the day I was born, it’s the same as every other fucking day.”

He was caught off guard as you rapidly shook your head, crying out at his words.

“It’s not!!” You implored earnestly, the roots to your ideals running deep as you leaned forward. “The day you were born is so special!! It celebrates your life, Katsuki!!”

Bakugou swallowed hard. Your proximity was making it very hard to breathe. That light in your eyes, the one that was able to find happiness in even the smallest of things, he didn’t understand it.

It was the same kind of light that Deku had. How fucking annoying.

“Damn idiot.” He muttered as he turned your face away from you so that he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss your lips. They looked so soft…

Fuck, he was screwed over. Quick, he had to think of something else.

Luckily, the distraction came in the form of two very energetic boys barreling into the tent. You collapsed in a fit of giggles as Eijirou returned from his adventure and tunneled into you, Izuku tripping on the way in only to be caught by the back of his collar by a reluctant Bakugou.

Eijirou quickly fumbled with the DVD, holding the cartoons he and Izuku had selected together up proudly for you to see.

You cooed, pinching his cheeks and praised them for making such a good choice. This one was one of your favorites when you were younger and you hadn’t seen it in a while so this was as much a treat for them as it was for you.

The little tent was a bit more cramped than you had anticipated, especially with the two hyperactive boys added into the mix, but it was doable for now. Your leg was pressed up against Bakugou’s warm thigh but you tried not to think about it as you popped the DVD into the small TV you had set up on a table outside of the cozy fort.

Eijirou snuggled up in your lap while Izuku hesitated to climb onto a very comfy looking hothead, who was actually quite tame at the moment.

Unfolding his arms, Bakugou's lip curled back in a scowl. "Tch, hurry up, nerd."

You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything about his language because while Eijirou seemed largely unaffected by it, Izuku’s forest green eyes actually sparked as he recognized the indirect permission granted.

It was actually quite adorable how the boys could read the disgruntled older man like a book.

Bakugou attempted to hide it from you but he couldn't stop you from seeing how gently he rested his large hand on top of Izuku’s little green curls. The tent didn't provide that much privacy.

Not wanting him to stop showing the rare display of affection towards the affection-starved child, you averted your eyes so that he could carry on. You knew he would retract his hand so fast if he thought you were looking at them.

You didn't want to ruin the moment.

Snuggling back into the plushy pillow, you held onto Eijirou as he curled onto your stomach, straining to see the small screen that lit up with moving pictures.

“Izuku, it’s starting!!” He exclaimed excitedly.

There was a crash and then a loud swear and as you looked over to make sure that Izuku and Bakugou were both alright, you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing at the scene that you were presented with.

At Eijirou’s well intended announcement, Izuku had hurried upright, knocking back into Bakugou at the same time as he scrambled forward to be able to see.

But in doing so, he had tripped over the cord connecting the TV to the outlet that was behind you and fell forward. Right as the box came crashing down, aimed directly for his head.

Luckily, no one was hurt.

Bakugou had caught Izuku by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back, out of harm’s way before anything could happen to him.

Any other time, you would’ve voiced how impressed you were but now you were just worried about the little boy, who was openly crying, apologizing over and over again for breaking it.

“It’s alright, Izuku.” You reassured gently, patting his head comfortingly. His emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he blinked up at your, his freckled cheeks flushed an embarrassed shade of pink and your eyes softened. “You’re safe, so no harm done!! Don’t worry, okay?”

He sniffled and shakily nodded.

Bakugou had yet to say anything but his fingers were still curled protectively around Izuku’s stomach, ensuring that he didn’t move around carelessly. Next time, he might not be as lucky. Not that he was going to admit that he was scared or anything.

How fucking ridiculous.

While you switched out Eijirou with Izuku to calm him down, Bakugou took charge in cleaning up the shattered shards of cheap plastic that had broken upon impact.

Your TV wasn’t completely destroyed but the plastic screen had cracked at the corner. For something so old, it sure was robust, he’d give it credit for that.

Eijirou tugged on his hand, losing his balance and Bakugou’s arm shot out to prevent him from face-planting in the shards that he had just swept up.

“Watch what you’re doing, Shitty Hair.” He growled, concern masked under his sharp reprimanding and he glared at the now sheepish toddler.

“C’mere, Eiji.” You coaxed, waving your hand to have him come closer to you so that he was out of the way until Bakugou got rid of the small, clear pieces hiding on the floor. “I don’t want you to get hurt, so let’s stay out of his way, yeah?”

Eijirou nodded vigorously, finding the logic in your words with relative ease and agreeing with them instinctively.

Sighing to yourself, you unplugged the TV so that an electrical surge wouldn’t cause a fire. That was the last thing you needed.

You were sad that the boys were disappointed with the short-lived movie night. But Bakugou insists that he can fix it just like he fixed your front door so the three of you waited for him to work his magic while you curled up with a good book to read to them.

You had already asked if he wanted help but he glowered at you for suggesting such an insane thing and you backed off with a shit-eating grin.

After almost an hour of reading books and playing games to pass the time, he got it up and running again, laying the cable on top of the fort you built so that it was out of the way, making it impossible for anyone else to trip on it again.

This time, everything ran smoothly and all of you gorged yourselves on popcorn and soda as the cheesy cartoons played out on the screen, thoroughly entertaining the two little boys while you and Bakugou stole glances at each other the entire time.

By the time it finished, Izuku was already fast asleep and Eijirou was struggling to keep his eyes open.

You put them both to bed, Bakugou’s soft half-smile going over your head as you tucked them into the spare futon you had set up for them specifically, almost three months ago, when this all started.

“You’re too fucking soft.” Bakugou decided as you two went downstairs to let the boys sleep.

It was familiar, it was routine. After every night when they fell asleep, you two would stay up talking for hours about anything and everything.

He eventually opened up to you about the life he had been involved in before he met Aizawa, who saved his life. After that, he reformed, he got clean, the whole nine yards.

And you were proud of him.

You told him about your life, though it probably was nothing at all that interesting compared to his problems that he dealt with. But surprisingly, you found him nodding along understandingly as you voiced your hardships with being anti-social and having a bunch of insecurities and anxieties that often made talking to people a nerve-wracking experience and you were astonished to find the weight that uplifted as soon as he put in his two cents and said that he really did understand.

You skipped ahead of him, spinning around to tell him how much you’ve grown to look forward to your conversations when the guarded look on his face made the confession die on your lips.

“You okay?” You asked concernedly, approaching him cautiously to give him enough time to push you away if he wanted to be left alone.

He grunted in your direction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But he didn’t sound fine. His voice was strained and a bead of sweat ran down his forehead.

Biting your lip, you tilted your head contemplatively. Ice cream and books generally made you feel better when you had a bad day but you realized you had no idea what comforted him.

Gingerly, you took his hand and frowned when you saw the faded scars. He had been hurt.

“What do you need?” You asked softly and he sighed in defeat.

“What’s your favorite book?” He grumbled out and your mouth parted in surprise at the odd request.

Wordlessly, you led him over to the counter to grab the same book you had been reading that day he had first barged in and so rudely knocked you off your stool.

You held it up to him and still holding your hand, he led you in the back where you normally sat with the boys to read to them.

“Katsuki?” You questioned.

He gritted his teeth, mumbling something under his breath.

“Um…” You trailed off nervously. “C-Can you say it again? I didn’t really hear you…”

Bakugou whirled around and you squeaked at how close his face was to yours.

“Read it to me.” He demanded without pause and you would’ve laughed, thinking he was playing a prank on you if it had not been for his steely gaze.

“Okay…” You drew out slowly, wondering where this was suddenly coming about as you sat down on the tan leather sofa and patted the spot beside you, turning on the table lamp beside you so that you could see him. “Do you want me to start from the beginning? I’m not sure if you’ll even like this book, I have no idea what you like to read—”

Bakugou shook his head to cut off your anxious rambling, recognizing that it was stemming from your nervousness at him possibly judging you for what you liked to read and he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.” He mumbled. “Just start.”

Even though you had numerous questions running through your head, you obliged and began reading, the words flowing off your lips with practiced ease.

Bakugou never told you but he was jealous of how you always read to the brats. Granted, he was a full-grown adult who shouldn’t pout in the corner when they got more attention than he did but it was so fucking stupid how soothing your voice was and how much of an effect it had on him. 

He could listen to you for hours and never get bored. Why do you think he always stuck around when you hopped up on the same tan leather sofa to read to those shitty kids?

It wasn’t just because he liked to look at your face, but it was because of the smile you had whenever you would read to them, that soft tilt of your head when the books evoked emotions from the children you were reading to and the giggle that bubbled past your lips when they laughed at something that the character did.

It never failed to do things to his heart.

Bakugou’s eyes eventually drifted closed after an hour of reading to him and you tensed when he careened into you by accident.

“Sorry.” He said shortly as he righted himself and you shyly reassured him that it was okay.

He didn’t say anything but you knew.

Ever since he got out of his old life, he had found a steady job but it was in construction and the risk was incredibly high. The hours were long and often the conditions were unforgiving. He had seen things happen on the daily and you were cautious to ever bring it up to him when he pressed closer to you than usual or who stayed longer by the front desk while you worked during operating hours.

You were about to stand up and leave so that he could sleep since he was obviously exhausted but his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t go.”

It was quiet and it wavered but you didn’t hesitate.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you eased him down and swallowed hard when his own encircled your waist, bringing you close to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised.

Head laying on his chest, your heartbeat eventually synced with the rise and fall of it and you drifted off, unaware that Bakugou sealed your promise with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

The fragments of his heart gently pieced itself back together as he held onto you as though you were his lifeline and he couldn’t help but whisper brokenly.

“Thank you.”

Bonus:

“Papa!!!”

“You’re back!!”

Aizawa held a finger up to his lips as his boys reached for him at the same time, chuckling softly as he caught them both as they launched into him. He didn’t change out of his military gear yet, he wanted to see them first.

“Shh… “ He hushed quietly, ruffling both of their heads at the same time. Damn, he missed them. “Y/N’s sleeping downstairs.”

Instantly, both the boys shut their mouths and shot out at the speed of light.

Aizawa followed them downstairs just in time to see the two of them screaming silently as they danced around in rings around their favorite couch that you and Bakugou were cozied up on.

Your face was tucked under Bakugou’s chin and you were sound asleep. Meanwhile, the man beside you had his arm draped over your waist, the other one supporting your head as a makeshift pillow. The blankets on top of you were rumpled, as though they had been kicked aside in favor of you both seeking out each other’s warmth.

It was cute. Aizawa admitted it was one of the most heartwarming things he’d ever seen.

“Don’t wake them up.” Aizawa instructed as Izuku reached out to touch Bakugou’s spiky hair since he wasn’t awake to tell him off. “Not yet.”

Eijirou was curious but a wide grin broke out on his face when his dad pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures.

“Oooo, Papa, can I?! Please?!?!”

Gesturing for him to lower his voice, Aizawa nodded and handed it off, watching Izuku and Eijriou briefly squabble about who got to use it first when they sorted it out amongst themselves and Izuku took the first turn.

You awoke to the sound of a shutter clicking right by your ear and blinking slowly, your eyes shot open and you jerked as you realized where you were.

And who you were with.

“Katsuki, get up!!” You hissed as the boys laughed loudly. Hell, even Aizawa cracked a smile and you threw him an apologetic look, though you didn’t know what it was for. “Katsuki!!”

He groaned and turned his face the other way.

This time, Aizawa couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Katsuki, huh?”

Bakugou turned back around and glared at the offending person smirking at him. “Shut the hell up.”

Aizawa clicked his tongue. “Respect your elders.”

“Oh f—”

“OKAY!!!” You shouted, clapping your hands together before he could cuss him out. “Who wants breakfast?”

“Oh, oh, oh, me!!!” Izuku cried, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Yay, food!!!” Eijirou cheered.

Bakugou blearily rubbed his eyes and yawned. Thank goodness he didn’t have to go in today. “Oi, didn’t you just eat?”

“Yeah, but that was last night!!” The little boy protested. “My stomach is hungryyyyy.”

“Fucking Shitty Hair.”

A warning tone came from Aizawa. “Bakugou.”

“... Sorry.”

“Coffee?” You offered to Aizawa as you all traveled back upstairs, the little ones racing ahead of you.

He sighed gratefully, blinking his eyes tiredly. “That sounds perfect.”

He was exhausted and the trip back was even more brutal than the one that took him to his destination. But he didn’t want to get into all of that now.

Eijirou and Izuku shot to their designated seats at the kitchen island and you put on an apron before pulling open the fridge to see what you could make.

“I meant what I said.” Bakugou confessed quietly while you cracked the eggs and prepared the bacon.

You didn’t look at him, not wanting to give it away to the other three who were watching you both like some kind of TV show.

“I know.” You murmured, a soft smile playing on the corners of your lips. “I did, too.”

Your heart fluttered as he boldly pressed a kiss to your temple and you blushed violently when the boys whooped and hollered at the two of you, Eijirou making faces of disgust and pretending to gag when Bakugou made it look like he was going to kiss you on the lips in front of them.

Aizawa chuckled as he handled the coffee machine, able to easily figure it out as he brewed enough for the both of you. “Look at that? You have learned how to play well with others, Bakugou.”

And this time, Bakugou didn’t even spare him a glance as he gazed at you until you looked his way.

“What?” You asked nervously, wondering if you had something on your face.

Bakugou hid a smirk.

“How ‘bout blueberry muffins to go along with that coffee, sweetheart?”