#god knows if i'll ever actually draw them again

[unknown-lifeformthatdraws]

TMA doodles I finally decided to post lol

@abluehappyface @possibly-eli @space-frog-boy @pinelo-hearts

#i don't usually do fanart but i thought this would be a fun change #a few of their designs were pretty clear in my head #while the rest were extremely vague which was PAIN #art #art in general #digital art #krita #ozzy's doodles #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanart #they're all disembodied voices in my computer yet they choose to be difficult to draw #a lot of these will likely change in the future #god knows if i'll ever actually draw them again

[vixendoesstuff]

God, it's been a while since I've done digital art. If only I have a tablet, I might have an easier time drawing there instead of a tiny phone, but no use crying over spilt milk. Here's the reference sheet for Techno Branch!

Man do I love a quality drop.

I don't know how to make my drawings aesthetically pleasing like I've seen other artist do, so this is all you get lol. But anyway here's the boi!! (Ignore my handwriting, it's usually better than it is here, I just have difficty writing on a phone).

I was actually gonna make his Grey version and True Colours version, but I was an idiot and hadn't copied his lineart before I combined it with the colours. So, I might have to redo his entire lineart from scratch. Art is so fun :)

More info below the cut!

So Branch here is more dull and glow less brightly (or not at all) compared to his brethren. Probably a side effect of going Grey for so long. I doubt the Techno Trolls of today would know how to help him fully because, while they probably have a better way of helping traumatized Trolls than the Pop Trolls, they wouldn't exactly know how to bring Branch's True Colours back, as he doesn't know Techno culture and they don't know him well, and that grey Techno Trolls were a rarity in it of itself.

Back when he was Grey, at some point in time the heart on his chest was split in two due to relentless trauma. Ater regaining his True Colours did it combine again, but after being Grey for so long I doubt it'll ever be truly whole again (trauma, amirite?).

Combined with that he probably doesn't like looking at his arm lights, as it reminds him that he's different than the rest of the Pop Trolls, adding more hurt to his already painful life (yikes). So he covers it with arm warmers, and by the time he regained his happiness it became a habit to wear them.

I like to think that Branch likes being on the ground more than swimming, so he's constantly walking and climbing around. Hence, the crease marks on his fins. 'Cause I like to think that Techno Trolls are not built for long periods of standing up straight. And Branch has done the exact opposite of that. Building a bunker by himself is hard, imaging doing that with a pair of swimming flippers. My feet would cry in pain lol.

Anyway, that's all I have for now, if you have questions feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer. With this out of the way, I can finally finish up my notes on what happens in World Tour. Hope you don't mind long paragraphs 'cause WHOO BOY lol.

#branch trolls #trolls #trolls world tour #techno trolls #techno!branch au

[plussizefantasia]

Revenge

Flufftober Day 18: Teacher AU

literature teacher!Loki Laufeyson x math teacher!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

AN: I actually love this one so much. I also just realized that we are over halfway done with Flufftober which is kind of sad. Anyway, we've got 13 more days left and I'm looking forward to the plans I have for each one. If you liked this story please reblog and I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

You are going to kill him. You are going to murder that man. You stayed after your last class yesterday so that you would be able to draw out the problems that your students would have to solve for class today. Now, written right on top of your trigonometry diagrams were the words:

“Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are talking about, nor whether what we are saying is true. -Bertrand Russell”

Written in the ever so familiar scrawl of the Literature Teacher, Mr. Laufeyson. Loki was a nice guy, a great teacher, and at times, a giant pain in your ass. You have no idea how this little feud of yours got started but you are certain that it has escalated beyond what it once was.

At the start, it was just funny little jokes between the two of you. He had once stolen all of the red pens that you used to grade your student’s quizzes and when you went to go look for them, they had all been taped together in one big ball and were sitting in your “Math is Fun” mug that you kept in the teacher's lounge. That was annoying and you also had no real way of knowing who had done it. Until he had brought it up the next day and asked how grading had gone.

You had retaliated by going in early the next morning and moving all of the furniture in his classroom an inch to the left. It had thrown him off just enough that he had tripped on his rug during a lecture and faceplanted. All of your students were talking about it two periods later when they arrived in your class and you were all smiles for the rest of the day.

So far, there has not been any lasting damage, and all of your coworkers find it more amusing than annoying which is a good thing because neither of you wanted to get the administration involved. 

You were not amused by the board graffiti you had found when you came in your class this morning, and while you were re-drawing the problems he had ruined you were thinking of how you could get back to him later that day.

Your plans for revenge had to be put on the back burner as students started filing into your classroom. Half of them looked so tired that you genuinely thought they might fall asleep at their desks and the others looked entirely too frazzled for 7:30 in the morning.

It wasn’t until after you had had your lunch break that an idea had come to you about a way to get back at Loki. You grabbed the pile of graded quizzes from your desk, ones that you were able to grade in red pen thank you very much, and started making your way upstairs to where Mr. Laufeyson’s class was located.

You knew that he was teaching his British Literature elective right now, as it was fifth period. You also knew that most of the kids in that class were also in your Calculus class at the end of the day.

You didn’t wait for very long before pulling open the door to his classroom and waltzing right in with a smirk across your face.

“Good Afternoon Mr. Laufeysoon, pardon the interruption but I have some quizzes I need to give back to some students ASAP.” Without waiting for a response you began walking up and down the rows of desks in his class passing out the graded quizzes to your very amused students. You noticed that he had stopped talking when you had walked into the room and hadn’t started up again. “Go ahead,” you had told him, “don’t want to waste valuable teaching time.” You continued to pass out the papers, all while trying to not burst out laughing at the look on his face.

“Um, yes right. Well as I was saying. Shakespeare was a minor god of his time. His ability to-”

“Hey Derek, I wanted to talk to you about this question that you got wrong, would you be able to stay a little bit after our class to talk about it.” You sent a small wink to Derek and put a finger to your mouth to indicate that he shouldn’t say anything. “I just don’t want to waste any class time going over it today, we have a lot to cover.” Derek just nodded and you could see his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.

“Are you done?” Loki asked, slanting his hips to one side and placing the hand not holding his open book on them. “Because I have a class to be teaching right now.” He lifted his eyebrows and you acquiesced. You wanted to mess with him, not ruin his whole class plan for that day.

“Yes, I’m done. Thank you for letting me hand those out.” You smiled sweetly at him and began walking back out of his room. Just barely hearing his mutter of “I didn’t let you do anything.” As you passed by him.

Mission accomplished you headed back down to your classroom and started gathering up the things you would need to teach the next period. You didn’t expect that he would have the time to be able to get you back today. But you were for sure expecting some kind of retaliation the next day.

It wasn’t until your last period that you were proven wrong. Everything seemed normal, your students filled in slightly ansty as it was the last period and everyone was ready to go home. They all pulled out their work and started on the problems you had written on the board. 

It wasn’t until you started calling on them that you realized what you had opened yourself up to.

You called on Derek first, he was one of the more academically inclined students you had but he was shy about answering in front of the class. You knew he had gotten the answer right, you had looked at his work before you called them all back to focus. But what you weren't expecting was for him to give you his answer in eh most god-awful British accent you had ever heard.

“I doth believeth that the answer to this problemeth is 42.3”. You were baffled. You had no idea what was going on and the fact that Derek had said all this with such a straight face made you think you were having some kind of hallucination episode in the middle of class. But instead of mentioning it you just decided to move on.

“Oh-kay. Um… Samantha what did you get for number 2.”

Again you were met with an awful accent and weird olde- english phrasing.

“Yes, Madame, the answereth I haveth arrived at was X equaleth 110”.

Now that you knew you weren’t just having a breakdown and something was actually happening you didn’t hold yourself back.

“What is happening right now? I don’t- why are you guys being so weird.”

You were met with utter silence, which was rare in your classroom of 23 teenagers. But you didn’t move on. You stared each of them down, focusing a little harder on trying to get the weak ones to crack. Finally, it was Abigail who let the cat out of the bag. She was sweet, but notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

“Mr. Laufeyson said he would give five bonus points to anyone who used a bad accent in your class today.” She let out in all one breath, “More points if you spoke like someone out of Shakespeare.”

You ran your tongue across the front of your teeth. “Did he?” You let out a sort of incredulous laugh and shook your head a little. “Well then, bonus points on the next quiz to whoever can steal the marble apple off his desk and bring it to me tomorrow.” Your students all began to laugh a little bit and some had a look of extreme determination across their faces at your words.

Your class continued sans silly accents and you sent your students home for the day without any homework. As you started cleaning up your desk, putting your laptop in your bag, and grabbing your sweater off the back of your chair you were interrupted by the voice of your arch-nemesis.

“You are positively wicked.” Loki was leaning up against the frame of the door to your classroom, his jacket also on his arm and his messenger bag slung across his shoulders.

“You started it with the Russell quote on my board. You knew how much time I put into drawing those problems.”

“Admit it, it made you smile when you saw it.” He began to cross across the room towards your desk,

“Maybe, but what really almost made me lose it laughing was Samantha’s horrible British accent.” You looked up at him and let out a small laugh at the memory. “So maybe, Mr. Laufeyson, you are the wicked one.”

“I might be, Mrs. Laufeyson but you were the one who married me.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” You chuckled once again and leaned up to place a kiss upon your husband’s lips.

“May I ask what plans you have concocted to get back at me tomorrow Darling?” He asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself tomorrow, Love.”

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #x reader #fanfic #fluff #flufftober #marvel fanfiction #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel fic #marvel fandom #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki odinson #mcu loki #teacher au #teacher!reader #teacher!loki

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

steddie time travel s3 ficlet, Part 1

Ao3, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

"Harrington! Customers!"

Pins and needles flood Steve's limbs as Robin's voice slowly comes into focus, his eyes still scrunched closed with sleep. The tiredness is heavy in his bones, like he's been asleep for years in the oddly cold back room of Family Video.

"Dingus!"

Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep on his break. Actually, he doesn't remember taking his break at all. Or even coming into Family Video. In fact, the last thing he remembers was covered in black and red slime-

"DINGUS! YOUR BREAK IS SO OVER!"

Steve forces his eyes open to witness the too-white walls of a break room that burned down a year ago. Frantic hands run over the garish blue and red of the tacky sailor uniform he hated, the same uniform he lit on fire in his backyard with Robin before the start of her senior year. Somehow, it's back. All of it. It's all come back to haunt him.

Robin from a year ago seems to also be back to haunt him -or maybe she's here as his savior- either way, she's just as loud as ever as she kicks the swinging door to the cramped back room in. It hits the wall with a crack, causing a jolt of both familiarity and dread to shoot up Steve's spine.

He waits for the tell-tale chime of a clock that was still ringing in his ears before he woke up in the summer of '85 or Robin's face to start warping into the melted mass of tentacles hiding in the Creel attic that will certainly become a common occurrence in his nightmares, but the only thing in front of him is Robin's all too common apathetic yet disappointed stare.

"I gave you an extra 7 minutes to sleep, but that little sampling-brat and her terror-troop are back for more and I swear to God, Harrington, I cannot deal with her again today, I just can't-"

Steve cuts off her ramble by scrambling out of his seat with more effort than either of them had ever put into this job, squeezing past her and out of the small doorway.

"Steve, where are you- hey!" Robin says as she latches into Steve's shoulder before he can finish his beeline out the door.

"I'll explain later if you still exist," Steve responds as he turns out of her grasp, shoving past the group of teens making their way into the store. He can hear Robin's small shouts after him, but her exasperation with him is nothing new and frankly the least of his worries.

Starcourt, somehow, is still standing. Clamping down on his rising heart rate, Steve glances around for any sign of the current date, or even year. Everything is exactly the same as it was a year ago, but Steve knows nothing he sees can be trusted. Not with the visions Max described, that's for goddamn certain. While he doesn't know enough science fiction shit like Dustin to know if he jumped universes or is in a different reality or whatever the fuck, he can at least place a little bit of faith in his ability to distinguish dreams and visions from reality.

His frantic pace along with the extremely out of place sailor costume draws in a few curious stares, but again, least of his worries. No one's faces warp into slimy horrors and none of the walls start crawling with vines, no flickering lights, no distorted voices in his head, no signs of the upside down at all. As comforting as that should be in theory, that means it's something else entirely and definitely something Steve can't figure out on his own.

He finds himself leaving a trail of pinches down his arm as he reaches the far side of the mall, posters for the theater coming into view. A particular poster catches his eye, BACK TO THE FUTURE highlighted in yellow and orange in all its sci-fi font glory.

Fuck. 1985. Again.

He presses his fingertips into the glass covering the poster as his breaths come out raggedy and sharp. C'mon, wake up man. It's all some weird ass fever dream, you probably just hit your head again.

He waits a few seconds and prays to wake up. Nothing. Obviously, he thinks. He's stuck, somehow, a year ago, with no clue how it happened or how to fix it or if anything here is even real in the first place.

Steve isn't the guy who comes up with plans, okay? That's more of a Nance thing, and Steve is totally fine with his role as the muscle. Unfortunately, right now there seems to be absolutely no Nancy Wheeler, and Steve has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.

He steps back from the entrance to the theater and spins around probably faster than he should for someone who maybe just got shot through time, and comes face to face with a small music store labeled Hot Wax Records in some sort of groovy 70's style font. That's not what gets him though.

Steve stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the guy at the front desk. His hair's a little shorter than he last remembers it, hitting just above his shoulders instead of just below them. The man is wearing a familiar denim vest with slightly fewer patches and less grime than was on it when it was adorning Steve's shoulders, but familiar all the same. What gets Steve though is that the man at the counter is white-knuckling the edge with one hand while the other braces and claws itself around his neck, a look of equal parts horror and recognition strewn across his features. He looks on the verge of screaming, yet his eyes are forcefully locked into Steve's with a determination Steve had only seen from him once before.

They both falter a half step forward as Steve struggles to find his tongue.

"Eddie?"

#steddie #steddie au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #Shovel writes

[py-dreamer]

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

#lmk #my beloved #lego monkie kid #pog champ #py's_art #lmk mk #lmk red son #happy valentine's day #lmk fanart #spicynoodles #lmk mei #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk sandy #lmk huntsman #lmk syntax #lmk spider queen #lmk spider demons #lmk mayor #lmk scorpion queen #lmk nezha #shadowpeach #silktea #lmk freenoodles #Inkyfeathers #toxicinsanity #venomqueens #lotusdragon

[ao3cassandraic]

Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 3

(Part 1 and Part 2 for those interested.)

"I play an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it’s like playing poker in a pitch dark room with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won’t tell you the rules and who smiles all the time." --God, Good Omens

This is just. Creepy and awful and so, so wrong for a quasi-omnipotent being. Ugh. Good Omens!God is an abject horror.

But if you're one of the poker players at that table, what do you do? You try to figure out the rules and mark the cards, naturally. Especially if leaving the table only happens via swan dives into burning sulphur, or getting kicked out of the only home you've known into a hostile desert with lions in it. While pregnant, yet.

So, I did a Bat Mitzvah back in the day, as it happens, and my Torah portion was from Deuteronomy. Which is, as I am hardly the first to notice, chockablock full of rules. Good Omens definitely leveraged (rather than inventing) the idea of trying to figure out Her rules and codify them in writing! Note, however, that the Bible per Word of Gaiman is a human thing. Codifying divine rules? Therefore also a human thing, minus I suppose the Ten Commandments -- though I can certainly envision a Good Omens in which Moses was, um, not exactly telling the truth about the source of the tablets; we only really have his word for it.

Angels and demons, who have a low opinion of literacy and just generally don't seem to be very good at it, never did this. We see that Aziraphale, Before the Beginning, has intuitively figured a few rules out: don't question Her, don't comment on (much less critique) Her decisions or designs, don't ever ever piss Her off. The Starmaker hasn't gotten this far, tragically, and our Crowley remains confused throughout the show as to what rule he can possibly have broken that earned him the identity-changing torture She inflicted on him.

Fundamentally, Crowley doesn't want to -- perhaps can't -- believe that She is capricious and cruel. He thinks there are rules, "don't test to destruction" being a major one. We know he's wrong, however. She straight-up told us so, in the quote at the top of this post! Aziraphale, too, knows, though he buries this knowledge as deep under the words "ineffable" and "Great Plan" (there is no Great Plan, She told us so, it's all a game to Her) as he possibly can -- I think as a coping mechanism -- and does his best to avoid drawing Her attention again after the Sword Incident.

But we see angelic and demonic confusion about the rules of Her game again and again. It's at the root of Aziraphale's successful Great Plan/Ineffable Plan hairsplitting at the airbase. It's why Aziraphale has to (with Muriel's help) dig through the contract for Job, and why Gabriel and Michael can't even be arsed to, even revising Job's reward on the fly. They're guessing! They're guessing about the rules based on what they've seen of Her caprices! She likes sevens!

It's how Crowley rules-lawyers the demons into letting the Whickber Street tradespeople go. If there are actual rules of Heaven-Hell engagement -- and there may not be! Crowley's pulled plausible-sounding lies out of his arse before! -- I'll bet you anything you like practically nobody in Heaven or Hell has actually read them. (My top picks for rules-of-engagement authors, if those rules actually do exist, would be Satan and the Metatron.)

And it's why Uriel has to ask the Metatron, as unsure and afraid as Uriel has ever looked in the entire series, whether the remaining archangels have done something wrong. The Metatron's response refuses to clarify what's at issue -- he, like Her, won't tell anybody the rules. If I'm feeling extremely cynical, I think She and he refuse to explain the rules because they're more powerful if there's no rulebook that rank-and-file angels can use to contest them with.

It makes me so sad. The legions of Heaven would assuredly have followed Her rules, if they only knew what those rules were! Fanart of the just-fallen Starmaker routinely breaks my susceptible heart, not least because the commonest expressions on his face are agony, sorrow -- and confusion. It's just all so damn unfair.

Same with Job, and Peter Davison sells it beautifully. Poor Job assumes he must have broken Her rules somehow, and blames himself for not even knowing how. That's totally on Her, though! If Her rules aren't clear enough for righteous Job to be able to trust his own righteousness under a horrible test, that's Her fault, not his!

The closest that Heaven and Hell -- and humanity, for that matter -- have to Her rules is prophecy. I probably don't need to spill many pixels on how vague and confusing prophecy is, how often it's counterfeited, and how pointless it is to try to live your life by (or trying to avoid) true prophecies; prophecies will invariably gotcha you. Good Omens is hardly the first work of literature to point this out. (Try the story of Oedipus. That's a good one. Yeesh. Or, if we want to be all Biblical about it, Moses again.) Agnes Nutter may well be the only genuinely well-meaning prophet in the entire history of prophets! Even so, her book is incredibly bewildering! Generations of her descendants try to figure it out, and mostly they fail -- look at the annotations we see on Anathema's index cards.

So when @thundercrackfic asks me what Aziraphale gets out of books, my first (though not only) answer is "rules for living." Not just rules for living as safely as possible around Her, though -- rules for living among humans, too. I headcanon (and posited in "Endgame") that Aziraphale has been collecting human etiquette manuals as long as humans have been writing etiquette manuals. Codified rules, like the ones in Deuteronomy, likely help him feel more secure.

I think this is also why Muriel characterizes books as portable people. Muriel is trying their sweet adorable best to figure out the Earth rules on the fly, since nobody Upstairs told them (or indeed knows, the Metatron aside) what those rules are. They do have Aziraphale to help them along -- Aziraphale is so much better than Upstairs! he doesn't condescend or insult, he just gently instructs -- but Aziraphale can't teach full-time, he has other things on his plate. So Muriel the scrivener, one of the few angels who would have a clue about literacy due to the nature of their job, gravitates to books and discovers that they too can be gentle and compassionate teachers.

The final question outstanding is how well Aziraphale understands and assimilates human books, especially fiction, especially especially non-literal figures of speech. It's an excellent and complicated question, and I don't think I have The Answer to it, but I'll see what I can do.

#good omens #good omens meta #rules rules rules #good omens god is a horror #aziraphale #crowley #the starmaker #angel muriel

[eitaababe]

EVEN IF IT'S A LIE !

chapter two. good luck.

a/n — the amount of photos i had to cram into this chapter

series masterlist. | previous / next

INTRODUCING —

written portion below. —

you and tsireya laughed, trying to keep it quiet in the calm atmosphere of the cafe.

"wait, so how do you know lo'ak?"

"we were childhood friends before i moved back in grade school. i just recently graduated and they have a good sports med program at pandora, i figured i'd come back and surprise them."

"ohhh," tsireya nodded, smiling as bright as ever. "that's so sweet! i, for one, am glad you decided to move back, i hope you make the dance team."

you smiled graciously, about to respond when a shout from the cafe grabs both your attention.

"tsireya!"

you turn at the bubbly voice, greeted by a soft smile and what looked like a brooding boy right next to him. "who's your friend?"

"this is y/n, she's the new transfer student."

"i'm rotxo!" he introduced himself, reaching out to shake your hand. "you going out for the dance team?"

"i'm trying out today, actually," you smiled, shaking his hand. your eyes suddenly shift to the boy next to him, and immediately you lose your train of thought. you meet his ocean blue eyes, and the room suddenly felt just a tad warmer. you quickly snap out of it, looking back at rotxo. "it's nice to meet you."

rotxo nudges the boy next to him, mumbling something harshly under his breath.

he rolls his eyes, nudging his friend back and looking to you, "ao'nung."

a man of very few words, you noted.

"nice to meet you," you're unable to say more, trying not to make the conversation anymore awkward, and look at the time, sighing in relief. "we've actually gotta get going— don't wanna be late for my own audition."

tsireya, checking her own phone, confirms your words and grabs her drink. "i'll talk to you later, big bro."

"good luck!" rotxo smiles at you. "i'm sure you'll do great."

"thank you." you smile at him bashfully, grabbing your bag and your drink as you start to follow tsireya out, when a call of your name stops you.

"hey y/n," ao'nung grabs your attention, and you're suddenly shy again under his intense gaze. "good luck."

you're positive he doesn't miss the way your whole face goes pink, and you smile, turning away as fast as you can to hide your embarrassment. "thanks."

─── outside !

"oh my god," tsireya starts only once you're both out of the earshot of the two boys, ignoring your questioning looks. "you have the hots for my brother!"

"i do not!"

"don't deny it! he said like two words and you were so red." tsireya giggled, knowing she was right.

"wait - which one's your brother?"

"ao'nung. rotxo's around our family enough he might as well be my brother too, though."

"oh," you say, and you recognize the resemblance between the two, with their soft eyes and curly hair, but you never would've guessed from how they both act.

"okay, maybe a bit."

"i knew it!" she exclaimed happily, drawing the attention of a couple passerby's as you walked to the dance building. "you should go for it, honestly. he hasn't talked to a girl in months, so he's definitely available."

"i don't know." you admit, hesitant to agree. "i barely know him. and he's your brother, that might get awkward."

"just think about it, alright?" she smiles sweetly, opening the doors. "for now, let's focus on you making the team."

FUN FACTS !

— rotxo is the only friend ao'nungs really talked to about ivy

— tsireya is taking ao'nungs word and thinks he's over ivy

— lo'ak is genuinely the happiest man on the earth knowing his girlfriend and friend are getting along

[🏷️ ; taglist. / open ] @loaksbitch @8resa @n7ytiri @yukichan67 @dearstell @netemoon @halibanana @aonungmyaddiction @teyums @lightskinloak

#[ — 🌎 ; avatar ] #[ — ⌛️; even if it's a lie ! ] #[ — 🏙️ ; smau ] #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung angst #ao’nung angst #ao'nung avatar #ao'nung #ao'nung fluff #ao'nung series #ao'nung x you #ao'nung smau #ao'nung x y/n #aonung fluff #aonung angst #aonung avatar #aonung x reader #avatar fic #avatar smau #avatar series #avatar fluff #avatar x reader #avatar angst

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 9- Hidan x Reader (Angry Sex/Dirty Talk)

        There was only one person in the world you ever had the gall to meet with once in a blue moon. The only other worshipper of Jashin that you actually acknowledged compared to all the fakes you've seen. That obnoxious person was none other than Hidan of the Akatsuki. A man who always dared question your faith to your God. A man who you wanted to kill to prove to him that he needed to mind his own business. A man you wished to fuck him in order to shut him up for once.

        Like every other year, you were waiting for him in the usual spot. A small inn in a small town that minded its own business. It was great because no one questioned either you or him when either of you arrived covered in blood. If they ever did, you'd kill them for Jashin. It would be a shame since you liked the couple who ran the place.

"Why the fuck am I here again?" Hidan barked as he appeared from the woods. Your eye twitched,

"Any other Jashin worshipper you want to meet with once a year? I'd be happy to change faces."

"Tsk, you know those fuckers be lying all the damn time. Ain't no one better at killing for Jashin than fucking me!"

"Us." You hissed lowly.

        Hidan mocked you as he followed behind. You grabbed the key from the receptionist and made your way to the room. Hidan was complaining the whole time. More like venting about his day to day stuff. He hate to admit it, but he did like the fact that he could vent his issues to you. You had no choice but to listen to him. The two of you had to try and get along for the day. That was the holiday rule. Him venting was just one way to do so.

"And then they threatening to fucking kill me! Ha! Those bitches were fucking stupid." Hidan laughed as he plopped himself on the bed. He glanced in your direction, "Ain't got nothing to say?"

"You never listen to my stories anyway. Besides, a think a criminal organization tops anything I did." You dismissed the topic, placing your scythe aside. Hidan let out a grumble, 

"Now you're making me look like an asshole."

"You are an asshole."

"Fuck you." Hidan spat. Something in you snapped as you got up in his face,

"Fuck you too!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

        Both of you yelled at the top of your lungs before crashing your lips against each other. Hidan nearly tore his cloak off as he tossed it across the room while you attempted to do the same. Unlike him, you had more clothing on. Hidan bit your lower lip, drawing blood as he went to tear your clothes off as well.

"Hey! I don't have a spare!" You barked. Hidan kissed you again, forcing his tongue into your mouth, "Mphm!"

"I'll fucking buy you something tomorrow. Just shut the fuck up."

        Ripping your clothes, Hidan carried your naked body to the bed. The only thing the two of you wore was your Jashin necklace. Clashing your lips again, Hidan spread your legs out. He dipped his fingers into your pussy while his thumb rested on your clit. You arched your hips towards him, trying to ride his hand as he started to fuck you with his fingers. Hidan broke away from the kiss, watching your body follow his movements.

"Fuck, what a fucking slut you are."

"Watch your fucking mouth." You groaned, trying to suppress your moans, "It's different from doing...ah...mhm..."

"What were ya going to say? Do you masturbate to me fucking you? How fucking hilarious." Hidan laughed, watching your body tremble, "Well, I'll fuck you hella good in the name of Jashin."

"S-Stop using his name for...for something like this!" You tried to scold him, but moaned instead.

        Hidan was rough with his fingers as he took your breasts in his mouth. He was biting your body all over the place. You were supposed to be the one to shut him up, not the other way around. Feeling your body burn hotter, you let out a whine. Hidan made you so mad. Why was he only using his fingers when his cock was hard and ready to fuck you.

"Close aren't you, bitch?"

"Fuck you, Hidan! Just fuck me already!" You cried, reaching your orgasm.

        Hidan removed his fingers, stuffing them in your mouth to shut you up. He groaned lowly, pushing his cock inside your tight walls. Your hips rose with his as he stuffed you full. Without giving you a moment to rest, Hidan held your waist and started to pound your poor pussy. His fast and rough pace causing you to cry out. 

"What's wrong? I'm fucking you aren't I? Why so quiet now?" He grunted, "Hear how slutty you are? Sucking my cock in so fucking easily."

"Y-You...ah~ fu-" You tried to cuss him out, but your brain was turning to rot. 

"Fuck, your fucking pussy keeps begging for more."

        The pace he was going was going to make your legs go numb. The amount of pleasure you were experiences was none like before. No other man has made you cum this hard. Hidan was an asshole, but all his shit talking was making you wetter. You were going to have to return the favor one day. Gasping as he pinched your clit, you cried out as you felt another orgasm being ripped from you. Your gummy walls unable to rest as he kept pounding you.

"Keep cumming for me. I ain't stopping until you admit I'm better."

"N-Never!" Just that alone brought you back to your senses.

"Ha, knew you were still in there, bitch." Hidan groaned, fastening his pace.

        You shivered as Hidan did one last thrust, filling you. The two of you took a moment to catch your breathe before turning the tables. This time, you had Hidan down on the bed with you on top of him. Your breathing was heavier than his. Honestly, you weren't sure what you were doing since you had already cam a few times. Your brain was telling you to stop, but your body kept wanting more. More of Hidan fucking you like an asshole.

"Don't start crying if it gets too much for you, asshole." You hissed.

        Hidan stuck his tongue out for a moment before groaning as you bounced on him. Watching his face contort in pleasure as you took control was delicious. Although, you could feel yourself about to give out. Your legs were already getting numb as having his cock hit you deeper than before was causing you to moan louder. Your thrusts getting sloppier as Hidan started to take over again. His hands laying on your hips once more.

"Look at you falling victim to my dick. Just admit I'm better and that you want to be my sex partner."

"N-No....F-Fuck,...haaaaah....Fuck-" You whimpered a moan as you felt your rise return, "F-Fuck me, Hidan!"

"Of course, (Y/n)." He said with a smirk.

        You let out a yelp as Hidan flipped the two of you again. He took over, slamming his hips into yours again. Your moans getting louder as he kept thrusting your throbbing pussy. Hidan watched the expressions you made as he got you to cum for him again. He cussed lowly, wanting to have his own high once more. He kept diving his cock deeper into you before releasing another load. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out and laid beside you on the bed.

"Fuck me." He groaned. You lazily raised you head,

"Just did, dumbass." Hidan flipped you off before turning on his side, "You know, if you kept your mouth shut more often...maybe we could have done this earlier." You told him. Hidan scoffled,

"You and me? Fucking like bitches in heat?"

"You just have to ruin shit. Fuck you." You groaned, slowly sitting up, "Shit, did you really have to fuck me like one of your dolls? I know it felt good but damn, I wanna shower now!"

"Don't go assuming shit!" Hidan got up, helping you to the shower, "You admitted to masturbating to me, too."

"So you're admitting it too?"

        Hidan yelled at you again, causing you to yell back at him-leading to another hot and angry sex session in the shower. Once the two of you were done, you stayed in the motel room, just chatting away.

"Do we have to wait until next year to fuck again?" Hidan said with a low grumble. You almost laughed,

"Doesn't hurt to bump into each other every now and then. Although, we still have to meet here every year."

"Tsk, fine."

        You scoff at his childish behavior. Within a few minutes, Hidan fell asleep. You were surprised. You actually did manage to get him to shut up and all you had to do was exhaust the damn man. Chuckling lowly at your victory, you too, laid down for rest. Hidan sure did a number on you, but it felt good all the same.

----------

        You and Hidan managed to stay fuck buddies throughout the next few months. After a while, you lost contact with him. Assuming that it was due to a mission, you waited. Eventually, a few more months passed and it was time to meet at the motel again. You stood outside, waiting to hear Hidan's annoying voice yelling at you. To see his cocky smile observe you like a piece of candy. To have him eventually tell you that he enjoys your company as he plows your pussy with his cock.

Anything.

"Hidan?" You called out, hearing a ruffle.

Nothing.

        You sat there for hours. Then days. Hidan never missed this. You didn't want to assume anything. You couldn't. You would lose faith in Jashin if you thought about it. You stayed in that town, waiting for Hidan to show.

But he never did.

#kinktober #hidan #hidan akatsuki #hidan x reader #hidan naruto #hidan smut

[azures-bazar]

How would the gang members react to the female reader being a highly skilled badass martial artist and supermodel? I don’t mind if it’s headcannons or a a write up! Hope this is okay! Love your blog 💖

Headcanon - Strong martial artist - Female!Reader

Hi there anon, thank you for your request ! This is my very first headcanon, I hope you’ll like it ! I don't know much about martial arts, unfortunately :')

Overall gang members and Arthur, John, Dutch, Hosea, Sadie, Javier, Charles and Sean head canons ! In case you want other gang members, feel free to tell me and I’ll add them ! :D

I haven't found the right format yet, I'll keep trying to make headcanons to get better at it ! Please excuse my mistakes :')

Request : Female!Reader

Characters : Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Addler, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire

Relationship : Ambiguous, flirtatious, friendly, protective

Lines : About 8 per character

Overall gang members : 

Well, let’s be honest : Everyone is actually impressed by the way you fight because no-one in the gang knows much about martial arts. You’re the very first gang member who is mastering this combat style !

And oh my god, you’re so gorgeous when you fight ! Everyone says it, even Bill and Micah, in their own way. 

You’re also really skilled with guns, which leads a few gang members to be jealous of you. How can you be so beautiful, so strong and so skilled at once ? It’s not fair ! 

Even if you’re coming back to camp badly wounded and bleeding, while the whole gang is worried about you, you’ll sit down and take care of yourself without any help. 

Because, you know… it’s just a flesh wound. 

No one dares bothering you whenever you’re mad. Most gang members have seen how fierce you are, they seriously won’t try messing with you. 

However, Bill and Micah did try once. They ended up badly hurt and never did that again. 

The girls admire you so much that Mary-Beth created a fictional character inspired by you. 

You are an absolute model to follow, not only because of your beauty, but also because you know how to fight for yourself and won’t hesitate calling people off if anyone is in danger. 

And men respect you, despite some of them keep taunting you because you’re a woman who knows how to fight… which is something quite common in 1899. 

Arthur Morgan : 

Arthur knows how to fight with his fists, but in a different way. His technique is a little bit less… subtle, but he has broken as many feller's bones as you did. 

However, he never had the opportunity to beat you when you’re having some friendly fights. You’re very quick, his fists never end up on your face. But don’t worry, he would never hurt you and can measure his own strength because he’s somewhat scared to cause you harm. 

He wants you to teach him about martial arts, but is too shy to ask since he’s not much flexible and believes he would look ridiculous. 

However, he secretly tries imitating your fighting positions when being out of sight, since he doesn’t want anyone to see him. He struggles at times, especially while trying to perform some high kicks on a nearby tree.

His muscles often end up sore and he says he just slept in a bad position. However, just by looking at these bruises on his legs and hands, you can quickly guess he’s lying. 

He’s absolutely mortified when seeing you coming back to camp covered in bruises, and spends a lot of time trying to stitch your wounds up even if you tell him you don’t need his help. 

You’re amongst the most beautiful women Arthur has ever seen. He likes drawing you, no matter what you’re actually doing. "She's a strange woman, fierce and skilled soul hidden beneath an angel's face." he wrote.

He trusts your skills whenever you’re going on robberies. He knows how good you are with guns, but also with your fists. And yet… he can turn into a protective bear whenever he sees someone take the advantage. 

John Marston :

Just like Arthur, John never beat you during your friendly fights. You’re literally invincible and John likes teasing you to make you loose. However, it doesn’t affect you… and you still pin him to the ground without a struggle.

However, he says he won just once, despite everyone knows it is not true. Even Jack knows you never loose a fight. Aunt Y/N can’t loose against his pa’ ! 

You tried teaching him about your skills… but let’s be honest : John was not really a good student. He kept moving like crazy, fell quite often due to his overall lack of balance… and broke his arm. 

Twice. 

Whenever he’s tasked to rob a stagecoach or a train, John brings you in because you know how to fight, and because you’re almost a human shield. You can’t even count the number of times you had to fight folks while John was lockpicking a chest. 

He often comments about your beauty and says how surprising it is to see such a gorgeous-looking lady being able to fight and win against men which are twice her weight. 

When you’re caught in a brawl together, he often taunts you about having your beautiful face bruised. "It’d be a shame to have such a sweet angel-like face scarred like mine, huh ?". Indeed, it would, but it would only give you even more charisma. 

And you taunt him on his scars in return, but he likes that. 

Dutch Van Der Linde : 

Dutch is absolutely amazed by your fighting skills and obviously doesn't try messing with you. Even if he needs something and you're not in the mood, he won't try anything.

He literally sees you win your friendly fights against his sons on a daily basis, he doesn’t stand a chance. Even if he's the leader of your gang and your "boss", as he often says.

You’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He won't hesitate gently courting you on a daily basis… even when Molly is around. Mostly when Molly is around. "The toughest pretty girl in the world !" he always says when seeing you.

Despite being obviously aware of your skills, as soon as you’re coming back to camp, you MUST be protected, especially when you’re covered in bruises. You're not leaving his tent until you feel a little better.

He will spend some time applying a balm he asked Hosea to make while begging you to be careful next time. He wants your beautiful face and body to remain as perfect as it already is.

Dutch loves watching your trainings, finding you gorgeous and, somehow, very lovely. He admires you but feels frightened whenever he witnesses you chopping some wood with your forearms.

He likes having you under his wing, knowing that such a beautiful gem, so fierce and strong, mastering martial arts while being absolutely calm under any circumstances, needs to be guided. 

He is afraid about you loosing faith in him. He doesn’t want to be on the wrong side of your fists… or your guns. 

Hosea Matthews : 

Hosea is a Cowboy Dad™, he wants to protect you even if he knows how strong you are, and secretly enjoys taking care of you. You’re such a beautiful and wild gem ! 

Especially when you’re trying to explain him that you don’t need his help. He finds pleasure in seeing you pushing him away out of pride. You know he’s not patronising, he just genuinely cares about your wellbeing.

No matter how badass or how strong you are, if you’re hurt, he's going full dad mode. Don’t try anything against it, you’re not going to escape him and his numerous plant-based balms. "It’s for your own good, sweetheart." he always says. It truly is. 

He likes watching you fight against John and Arthur, just to witness their priceless faces every time they loose against you. After all, it’s such a funny even to witness ! 

Hosea also claps his hands to support each one of you during these short fights. It’s so amazing to see you pin Arthur to the ground, knowing how much he weights. 

He won’t hesitate telling you how beautiful you are, no matter what you’re wearing or what you are doing. How can such a beautiful lady be this skilled ? He often thinks about it and tell how proud and absolutely in awe he is whenever you're around him. 

Hosea somewhat supervises your trainings and tries cheering you up whenever something doesn’t go your way. "It’s alright, my sweet darling. Just try again !" can be heard whenever you miss your target or accidentally fall on the ground. 

Even if you’re one of the most skilled gang members, Hosea is always worried about you going on robberies but knows everything will be alright, as long as you don’t follow Bill or Sean. 

Sadie Adler : 

You and Sadie share a lot in common, no wonder why you’ve been good friends for a while already ! The two of you are fierce and strong, and absolutely beautiful, indeed !

She doesn’t know anything about martial arts, but now she wants to be able to fight just like you. She would ask you to teach her what you know every morning, which is very sweet. It's lovely to see her excited like that !

She loves the way you walk back to camp after a robbery or a brawl and always asks you how many limbs you broke. Also, the two of you share this common independence whenever you need to stitch up your own wounds, not needing anyone’s help. 

Sadie is already very skilled and is a quick learner, but she did not succeed in winning a fight against you yet. 

However, last time the two of you had a friendly fight, she nearly won ! In a couple of months, she might be able to pin you to the ground !

She admires you as much as you admire her, you’re the perfect pair to be sent on raids against O’Driscolls or on random robberies. You always come back victorious… and wounded, but going on raids with Sadie is so much fun ! 

The two of you kinda scare the rest of the gang because of how skilled you are with your fists and with your guns. Amongst them, Bill is the most frightened. 

She finds you gorgeous and won’t hesitate telling everyone about how she feels whenever you’re around her. She often compliments you because, according to her, you deserve it !

Javier Escuella : 

Javier is absolutely blown away by your fighting skills and begs you to teach him how to fight like you ! "Like this, Y/N ? Like this ?" is his favourite quote whenever he tries imitating you, he sounds adorable. 

Just like Sadie, Javier is a quick learner but tends to feel a little too excited whenever you compliment his overall flexibility. He would like to show more in order to impress you !

Javier laughs during your friendly fights because, sometimes, he has no idea about what he’s currently doing. He is very good with guns, this is what he often tells you. 

Watching you during your daily trainings makes his heart melt as he finds you gorgeous, even while breaking wooden crates with your legs. 

He is flirty, nobody denies it. Javier loves walking around you and often compliments your beauty by rewarding you with some adorable nicknames in Spanish. 

You’re called leona, cariña, reina… at times, he teases you by calling you chiquita, but you like it anyway. A chiquita who knows how to fight and has broken a hundred bones in her lifetime. 

He sings ballads about you and mentions how gorgeous and strong you are, but only he can understand what he’s talking about… unless you know Spanish. 

If you’re wounded after a job, Javier will take care of you. And you won’t be able to resist his insisting stares ! If he wants to take care of you, he will do it. 

Charles Smith : 

Charles doesn’t talk much, but he actually admires the way you fight and smiles at you. He always falls out of time while gazing at you during your trainings, feeling mostly impressed but also charmed. 

He has seen how good you are to fight and care for yourself, so he trusts you when you have to do jobs together. He really likes having you around !

He finds you absolutely beautiful but only tells it to you when there is no-one else around, believing you and only you should hear him. "You're a wonderful person, Y/N." he often says.

As far as you can recall, Charles publicly complimented you twice : one time because of an outfit he found beautiful, the other time because of your ease at pinning men down following a brawl at the saloon. 

He did not tell you about it yet, but he absolutely loves watching you walk around in your most beautiful outfits… and fight wearing them. 

If you try teaching him about martial arts, he will most likely end up teaching you what he knows about wild animals and how to hunt them. He feels grateful towards you for everything you can teach him. 

If you don’t have one yet, Charles would craft you a bow for you to hunt with him. He takes his sweet time to teach you how to use your new bow and is very proud of you no matter what you're doing with it.

Despite fully trusting you, Charles is worried whenever you’re badly wounded and will take care of you, just like he does with anyone he loves. He knows you’re a tough cookie, but also needs to know you’re alright. 

Sean MacGuire 

Sean is clueless about what martial arts are. He genuinely believed you were talking about marital arts, making him feel confused to learn that what he thought to be the art of fancy weddings was actually a large set of fighting techniques. 

He is in awe whenever you fight and is overwhelmingly excited when you try teaching him what you know. He looks like an hyperactive child who doesn’t really know how to stand still, but it’s kinda fun to watch. 

His overall careless behaviour caused him to fall numerous times. He nearly lost another tooth while training with you, but laughed all the time, holding back some tears of pain. 

"Me Da’ used to say women who know how to fight are the most beautiful women !" is his favourite quote. Indeed, you know how to fight, and Sean won’t lie to you about your beauty ! You are gorgeous, so beautiful and charming ! 

He admires how stern-faced you are whenever you stitch up your own wounds. He tried doing it once, but ended up screaming… so Arthur finished the job. But don’t remind him about it. 

Whenever you’re doing jobs with him, you know you should not follow his lead. His carefree attitude makes a stark contrast with your calm behaviour, but he somewhat knows he’s safe with you, and believes you’re safe with him too... which isn't completely true.

He likes teasing you at times, giving you some sweet nicknames while falling from his seat whenever he’s drunk. He’s hopeless, but it’s fun to watch him like this. He likes calling you pretty doll, sober or not. 

Sean is quick to compliment your beauty, he often shouts some of them from the other side of the hideout for everyone to hear him. The whole gang needs to know about it, and everyone agrees with him on that ! 

#rdr2 oc #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #javier escuella #sadie adler #charles smith #sean macguire #female reader #martial arts #azurestales #this is bad but I'm going to do better next time #sorry for my mistakes

[espinosaurusrexex]

Imagine celebrating Christmas with Bucky

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

It's your first Christmas together in your shared apartment, and you are super excited because you love the holiday

Bucky doesn't really show it just yet, but he loves how excited you get about all the decorations

"OH. MY. GOD. Bucky, look at this reindeer! Can you believe it?! They have a real reindeer!"

"I bet the reindeer can't believe it either."

"Shut up."

And when you passed the tree that ended up being brought into your home, he made sure to draw your attention to it because it was so tall, you'd definitely need help decorating the top branches

It ended up being too big, and you had to cut off some of it to make it fit, but Bucky wouldn't have changed it for the word if it meant he'd see that smile of yours when you saw it all over again

He lifts you onto his shoulder to decorate the tree, and he might even distract you a bit because he really enjoys having his head between your thighs (ohhh naughty Bucky) and drawing out the time you need to hang the ornaments seemed like the perfect plan

The evenings of the days leading up to Christmas, you have Bucky catching up with all the classic Christmas movies

And even though they are not his favorite (movies in general) he enjoys being snuggled up with you under a pile of fuzzy blankets

You even baked cookies with him and had to find out that Bucky is quite the skilled baker (though you still decorate them better)

At one point, you tried to get him to go ice skating with you, but that's where he drew the line

So it's just all really cozy and enjoying the season inside, but you're not complaining

Still, when the first snowflakes fall, you drag him out to the street before enjoying his warmth in your shared bed again

just imagine the soft mornings embraced in each other while the cold is rioting outside the windows, the room has gotten cooler but Bucky is so warm 😍☺️

"Good morning, beautiful. What Christmas activity do you have planned for today?"

"Just staying in your arms all day."

"That sounds perfect."

By this time, Bucky would actually get excited about everything you want to do with him for the holidays

And while he wouldn't admit it, he came to love the season more and more ever since he got to spend it with you 💕

You initially agreed to not get each other presents because the move had been expensive enough and "having you in my life is the best gift I could ever ask for" but you failed to keep that promise

So when Christmas morning came and you and Bucky are having breakfast in matching plaid pajamas, you get a little box from beneath the table and watch as his eyes widen in awe

"I thought-"

"I know, but... I saw this, and it made me think of you."

Bucky had never really gotten a Christmas present before. Back in the 40s his family barely had any money to eat every day, so presents were a rare occasion

Getting a present from you is both unexpected and incredibly meaningful to him

He opens the little box and laughs when he pulls out a golden maneki-neko ornament

"Like the one from the restaurant-"

"We first met. Yeah, I remember."

He moves around the table and kisses you

"It's the best gift ever. Thank you so much, doll."

You walk up to the tree and watch him hang the ornament before he pulls you into his side and admires the beautiful decorations

"I'm so glad you're here with me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

a/n: Merry Christmas to everyone that celebrates, and happy couple days off for everyone that doesn't (or not, I don’t know where you are in the world 💞)! This year has been so amazing - I had so much fun interacting with you and really starting to write again. Thank you for liking and reposting and commenting and just being your awesome selves. You are amazing, and I appreciate you so much! I hope the next year has just as much in store for us as this one did. I'm not sure if I'll have time to post next week, but if I don't, I'll be seeing you next year with more fun imagines. I have some projects coming that I am very excited about. Until then, stay obsessed! Much love, Meg❁

taglist: @4buckyb @almosttoopizza @royalwritersoftheuniverses @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier x you #winter soldier fluff #bucky barnes headcanon #m shorts

[bitimdrake]

Do you have fic recs by any chance? You really seem to have a lot of comics knowledge so I trust that you know what’s accurate to the source material and what’s not :)

you know I've gotten a few asks about this and I never quite manage to answer them, because I'm always convinced that I will somehow end up with a perfect and complete rec list if only I wait to reply just a little longer.

SO I'm gonna try cutting myself off at the head this time, and not giving you a prefect list by any means, but at least giving you an answer:

Here is a collection that I'm slowly forming for fics that really feel like they're actually based off comics. It is currently very small and people are welcome to bookmark to it if they find other very comics-based fics, but it's a start.

And a couple random recs as I scroll through my personal bookmarks:

Redrawing the Lines (11k) is fantastic Batman Reborn era Dick & Tim & Damian fic, and it continues as a series after.

also the second before the other shoe drops (8k) about the same trio. AU where Damian makes a murder attempt in a subtler way--but most important, is not demonized by a narrative that instead gives everyone a fair shake.

will we ever get to the other side? (5k) Dick & Tim in a very specific era where Dick's life is falling apart and filled with trauma, and Tim has just been hit with a huge smack of grief and also trauma, and neither is at their best but they're trying.

Everything by @silverwhittlingknife is ideal Dick & Tim content, and all deeply rooted in comics. I will call out:

The Return (11k), which is Dick's pov of Tim coming back to Gotham after Brucequest

only you will have stars that can laugh (9k) which is sad and loney but also sweet on Christmas

Red Letter Day (42k, wip) in which god Dick is trying his fucking best to hold it together okay. (aka everyone is kind of prickly, Dick is stressed, there's a Mysterious Wednesday of unclear importance, and I love them sm)

@flybynightwing has equally comics-based and also absolutely fascinating and compelling fics. I'll call out:

How Far Love Goes (99k) a case fic that draws in everyone in the bat family, with a tilt towards Dick (although the Steph is also fantastic), and turns into a reflection on Bruce as a parent.

goal-oriented mindset (5k) Catalina's pov, meeting Dick again well after everything went down. Subject may not be for you, but I find it SO interesting and roll it around and around in my head. (And it is of the very very rare selection of actually comics-based fics about that arc.)

It's a Wonderful Earth-218 (7k). A thoroughly depressed Dick goes to a world where he was never born, it's a wonderful life-style.

(And carrying on with various authors again:)

Hate and Love are Two Sides of the Same Coin (5k + 13k sequel) every member of his family is forced to say what they like least about Dick. The fic makes no secret of its thoroughly contrived premise and doesn't particularly care to justify it either, but still comes out with great characterization and relationship reflections.

Mikey Dies At The End (4k), outsider pov centered around Jason as the Red Hood, which is so very confident in its characterization of him and has zero considerations given to fanon and it's an excellent read.

A Meditation on Railroading (24k), a Tim-centric fic that deals heavily with his relationship with his dad. This one is not really canon at all, but it is good, and its version of the relationship is compelling.

Young Justice Visit the Suez Canal (3k) look this one is pure 90s-style Young Justice humor. We're here for a good time.

Aaand I know there are many more good fics, but I have run out of steam and I am trying so so hard to remember that some answer is better than no answer. Though I am very sorry to all my beloved writers & mutuals who have written excellent comics fic.

Anyway final tip is when you find an author who knows what they're talking about, go through all their fics, and then go through all their bookmarks.

#* #ask #anon #*dc #dc #fic recs #also a tip: just exclude 'dick is a bad brother' #ignore anything that says damian is inherently evil and bad #and know that 'bruce wayne is a good parent' is lmao so fanon but you should still enjoy it if you want to

[kayrockerqog]

okay this is gonna be my general reaction post for episodes 2-4 of the reboot, so spoilers are UNDER. THE. CUT.

okay so one: I have never been more conflicted about a ship in my fucking life

this is ripaxel specific, because of course it is, what else would we be talking about here

on the one hand, no, not in a million years, what are the writers thinking, what insanity is this, I'm so confused and not in a good way at all

but on the OTHER hand...he did opt for using something she liked in a unique way to get her attention, and was like, mega cringefail about it but it still worked??? SHE liked it??? that's the important part.

so???? i'd have to see further how they progress with this before I decide, because oh god was the secondhand embarrassment horrifying during these past few episodes

now, two: caleb and priya

cute pairing! great potential. but GIRL IF I AM NOT FEARING FOR THAT GIRL'S EMOTIONS RIGHT NOW!!!! I CANT TELL IF HE'S LIKE GENUINELY LEADING HER ON FOR AN ALLIANCE OR JUST FUCKING STUPID AND DOESNT REALIZE SHE'S LIKE, INTO HIM INTO HIM!!! if he hurts her I'm suing, I'm going insane, he will be dead by dawn

three: rajbow + Wayne and the in-game cheating

again, never been so conflicted in my life, me and Bowie are twinning

on the one hand, I am SO glad he's like actually conflicted and doesn't like lying to Raj. Again, surpassing my expectations on behalf of the writers because I would've 100% expected them to make him lean into cheating without repercussions

on the other...Raj and Wayne being upset about cheating actually makes ME kinda upset despite how much I adore MK and Julia's antics!!! like!!!! the boys just want a fair fun game!!!!! how can you say no to those faces???? they're like puppies I stg

i AM relieved this is like, a cheating in the GAME plot and not a cheating in the RELATIONSHIP plot because that is ALSO a TD Taboo and I was afraid, they're still adorable and have an actual narrative, god bless

four: mkulia

canon, it's canon, idk what else you want me to say man

also, very important MK image

look at her go... i love her actually

five: sha-lightning round

Millie and Damien's entire feud and make-up was surprisingly well done!! and despite the fact she got eliminated that episode it was still a happy ending that fit really well with both of them!! I'm glad Damien's actually getting some play this season so far :D!!

Zee with Olivia Von Trashpanda is by far the best thing I've ever seen in my life, I love them sm

the besties,,,

i wish I was Emma in the scene where Axel ran her finger by her chin threateningly (I'm shameless I know but come ON I WISH THAT ME!!!!!)

Nichelle getting to slay is the best thing ever lowkey???? I'm so proud of her!!

Chase getting kicked out second was the best, get dunked on loser!!!

Emma has also been returned to my good graces for dunking on him, thank you girly

Chris missing Scary Girl is so real, I miss her too man :<

and, well

I now know I never want to participate in would you rather challenge irl, those questions were horrid

except the one with Axel and poetry, that's a really nice character touch despite what it leads to

and...yeah! general thoughts dump. I'll still be making separate posts and I actually feel motivated to draw canon for once..back on my total drama bullshit? /pos

#total drama #total drama reboot #td 2023 #td 2023 spoilers #total drama spoilers #td mk #td julia #td priya #td caleb #td millie #td chase #td emma #td zee #td ripper #td axel #td nichelle #td raj #td wayne #td bowie #td rajbow #td mkulia #td ripaxel #td... #what is caleb and priya's ship name actually? #is there one? idk #kaycore #total drama stays winning #td scary girl

[cocrante]

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 11]

THE TWO DEMIGODS SPENT ANOTHER AFTERNOON TOGETHER, exchanging words from time to time. Nico was happy to let the son of Apollo talk, occasionally chiming in when the conversation became interesting. Will mentioned more about his life outside of camp, the extracurricular courses he wanted to take that year. Nico raised an eyebrow, quite intrigued. "What kind of courses?" Will shrugged, replying, "I don't know yet, I have to see" He really had no idea what courses the school would offer that year. "What would you like to do?" Nico asked him again. The boy remained silent for a moment, reflecting on the question. "Music" he replied, unable to suppress a laugh. "Really?" Nico asked, finding it hard to believe what he had just heard. "Yes" Will replied, embarrassed. "I know I'm good at it, but I'd still like to do it" Nico nodded, as it wasn't a bizarre idea at all, considering he was the son of the god of the arts.

By now, the two had finished their work and were just chatting about what awaited them outside of camp. Nico had no idea what awaited him if he actually went to study in New Rome; he only thought he would have to study hard to catch up with everyone else. "I'll ask Jason or Hazel to help me with Latin," Nico said, even though a small part of him hoped there was no Latin or that they would turn a blind eye to him and teach him Ancient Greek. "Then you'll have to tell me" Will smiled. "I'll send you an Iris message every evening" Nico replied, fully intending to do so. He rang the conch shell again, drawing the attention of the demigods. Once again, they arrived at the dining hall together, greeted each other, and made plans to meet at the bonfire later. The son of Hades went to his usual table, surprised not to see anyone waiting for him, or so it seemed. For a moment, Nico had to admit to himself that he had felt lonely, now accustomed to the suffocating but pleasant presence of his friends.

"So?" Jason asked, taking a seat and placing his tray on the table. "So what?" Nico replied. "Did you ask him?" Piper specified. Nico looked at each one of them, almost sorry to have to give them bad news. "No" he replied, as if it didn't matter to him. "You should" Annabeth intervened, not at all satisfied with the answer. Nico just shrugged. "When I feel the need, I will" he replied, finally dropping the "Will topic". The demigods then started talking about something else, preferring not to interfere too much in the private life of the son of Hades. They also talked about the life that awaited them outside of camp; both Percy and Annabeth announced their decision to attend university in New Rome. Ever since Percy had told Annabeth about it, that place had become her new obsession. However, Nico couldn't deny feeling a pang in his heart at those words; he would see Percy Jackson even at the Roman camp. "Nico was also thinking of going to study there" Jason recounted. "Jason!" Nico hissed, not expecting his friend to reveal it. "You too?" Annabeth's eyes lit up, amazed by the news. Nico could only sigh. "Yes" he replied, running a hand through his hair. "But it's just an idea" he added, still not entirely sure of his choice, especially now that he knew that they would both be there. "You should go" Annabeth encouraged him, getting everyone's approval. "Yeah, maybe" Nico mumbled, repeatedly touching his skull ring. "You'll enjoy going back to studying!" Annabeth exclaimed, making it sound simple. "I hope so" the son of Hades said, his only memories of school being from the academy, and even then, they weren't any better than many other memories.

Later, the demigods got up and headed towards the bonfire, with Nico following them at a distance, sitting in the usual spot next to the same person. "Hey!" Will greeted him, offering him marshmallows to roast. "Hey" Nico replied to the greeting, accepting the candies. "Your friends are staring at us" he whispered. The son of Hades nodded, having already noticed that those four had been staring at them for evenings now. "I know" he replied. "Let them be" he advised, knowing they wouldn't see anything else but two boys talking between one song and another.

After the usual campfire songs, the boys were sent back to their respective cabins. The two demigods bid each other goodbye, remembering their appointment for the next day. Then each went in opposite directions, straight to their own cabins. As soon as he was inside his cabin, Nico threw himself on the bed, not bothering to take off his clothes. He sighed and turned over, staring at the ceiling, letting thoughts invade his mind, realizing how clear nighttime thoughts could be. He paused to think again about the morning, about when their two blades crossed paths, and he was just inches from Will's face. He closed his eyes, letting that thought out, not wanting to be influenced by his friends' ridiculous ideas. Although, in fact, those thoughts had been in his mind long before. The boy ran a hand over his face, wanting to fall asleep like all the other campers, exhausted after an intense day of training, instead of feeling his strength awaken only at night. He rolled over with a sigh, looking towards the window he always kept open, facing a slice of star-studded sky, and slowly, as he counted them, he managed to fall asleep. Even in his cabin, Will, like the night before, struggled to fall asleep. He, too, thought back to the morning when he was so close to Nico that he could hear his heartbeat. That morning had taken an enormous effort not to lower his weapon and get even closer to his face. He sighed, turning to his side, banishing that thought from his mind.

It was another night without dreams, which began to worry some of the demigods who constantly dreamed of monsters. Slowly, the sun rose, kissing the camp and forcing the demigods to get up and start a new day. Like every morning, Will followed his routine, assigning tasks to each member before leaving. Then they all headed towards the dining pavilion, taking their seats at their table or visiting friends. Will noticed that Nico's table was empty that morning, probably the demigod had decided to take it easy and give himself a few extra minutes of sleep. Later, other demigods arrived, taking the remaining seats, and as they began to arrive in greater numbers, Will got up and headed towards the arena.

When he arrived, he didn't expect to find Nico facing off against a skeleton he had summoned; it was certainly better exercise than fighting against an immobile dummy. "Good morning" Will mumbled, keeping a safe distance. Nico struck the skeleton one last time before stopping and making his opponent disappear with a wave of his hand, just as it was about to land its final blow.

"Good morning" he replied, turning towards the boy who couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. "Wow" Will whispered. "Did you even sleep?" he asked, getting only a tiny laugh in response. "No. Not really" Nico replied, running a hand over his forehead to wipe away some sweat. Will cautiously approached, looking around, hoping there weren't any crazy skeletons. "Did you send it away?" he asked, positioning himself exactly where the skeleton had been sucked in. "What's wrong?" Nico smiled sinisterly. "You're not afraid of a few bones, are you?" he teased, resting the sword on his shoulder as if it were a baseball bat. "No, of course not!" Will lied. "I just wouldn't want it to have gone to call others to invade the camp" he said, realizing only afterward that there was no logic in what he had said. Nico looked at him, unable to avoid raising an eyebrow "Solace, it doesn't work like that" he told him, holding back from laughing in his face. Then there was a veil of silence between the two, broken only by a sigh from Nico. "Come on" the boy hinted with a laugh. "We'd better start before the zombies arrive" he teased, getting a tongue sticking out in return. The two demigods got into position, repeating the moves from the previous day to see if the son of Apollo remembered them.

There were moments when Nico had to explain how to better grip the weapon, and others to adjust his posture, but for the most part, the boy was doing fine. He had quick reflexes, like all the other demigods; hyperactivity kept him always on the alert. "Let's get serious!" Nico challenged him, wanting to make the training more dynamic. Will didn't expect such an attack, tried to parry it, and then dodged the second by moving to the side. He quickly thought, responding to the attack. The two blades clashed and vibrated, metallic noises echoed throughout the arena along with grunts caused by the excessive force they were using. The son of Hades quickly cornered him and with a hilt strike, made him drop his sword. "You responded well" he complimented him. "Yes, but I lost" Will replied, massaging his struck hand. Nico shrugged, retrieving his friend's weapon and handing it back to him. "Thanks" Will said, taking the sword back. "You lost because you didn't expect it" he explained. "You lowered your guard when I hit you with that feint" he showed him the move again. Will mentally took note, suggesting they try it again. They practiced for almost the entire morning, with other camp members beginning to populate the arena. Their foreheads were now beaded with sweat, and their hair stuck to them. Will was exhausted, and what he didn't understand was how Nico could still be standing even though he hadn't been able to close an eye all night. The son of Apollo lost again, but he could at least say that he lasted longer than the previous times. "You're getting there" Nico encouraged him, quite satisfied with his progress. "I'd like to see you in a real fight" Will took a deep breath, catching his breath. "Yeah, me too" he said, aware that Nico had been taking it easy on him. Both sheathed their swords, wiping their foreheads with the backs of their hands "We'll try again tomorrow" "Okay" At the end of the training, they headed to their respective cabins, one to freshen up while the other rested a bit as soon as he got inside his house.

In Cabin 7, after Will finished washing up, he was approached by his sister Kayla, who had come in to retrieve her bow. "Already done?" Will simply nodded. "Are you going to meet him again this afternoon?" she asked suggestively, gathering her hair with green tips into a ponytail. Her brother was momentarily taken aback, then he shook his head in the negative. Kayla looked a bit disappointed. "We'll catch up later" Will said quickly, heading toward the door. "Will" she called after him. "You have to tell him" she looked at him seriously, getting only a nod in response.

Nico woke up, summoned by the conch shell. He didn't feel like he had slept for very long, yet it was already lunchtime. He stretched a couple of times before getting up and leaving his cabin, heading towards the dining pavilion. Jason was already waiting for him, and as soon as he saw him, he greeted him energetically. "Where were you? We looked for you everywhere." "I was sleeping" Nico replied, sitting down and finally eating something. "Rough night?" Jason asked, aware of his sleepless nights. The son of Hades just nodded, taking a bite of something from his tray. "Did you see...?" Jason gestured towards table 7. Nico raised his gaze, focusing on where Jason was pointing. "Yes" he replied. "He's not bad with a sword, but I doubt he'll be of any help if we get caught tomorrow" he confessed. "You can always use the skeletons" Jason suggested. Nico sighed. "It's not that simple" he explained. "If you tell them to attack they really attack. They don't have a conscience" he tried to make it as simple as possible. Jason parted his lips, thinking that Nico had full control over those things. "Well, the others don't know that" Jason replied. "We can leverage that"

"Sure" Nico answered absentmindedly, his thoughts completely elsewhere at the moment

The two quickly finished their meal and were joined by the son of Poseidon, who was eager to have both of them at the climbing wall. Nico rolled his eyes, forgetting about the absurd promise he had made. "Come on, Nico!" Percy urged. "Let's show Mr. Lightning and Thunder how to climb" he laughed, giving him a playful shove. Nico scoffed, pushing his hands away. He would have preferred to spend a quiet afternoon on the edge of the forest, maybe finding some monsters to have some fun with, but the son of the sea god was insistent. In the end, Nico agreed, following the two boys to the wall that now seemed to bear their name. Percy and Jason were the first to climb it, with the latter convinced that he would finally beat Percy. They started the climb, and Jason started well, ahead of Percy. However, what he hadn't anticipated was the hot steam blown onto his arms. He lost his grip a couple of times, allowing Percy to overtake him again. But the son of Jupiter didn't want to give up; he resumed his climb, at least wanting to reach the top. "Come on, Grace!" Percy exclaimed, now near the top. "Wasn't today the day you were going to let me win?" he asked, stifling a laugh. Jason grumbled in Latin, trying to climb a bit higher, but it was useless to say that he ended up getting stuck; a rung had literally disappeared, leaving him struggling to find a handhold. He sighed, giving up and dropping to the ground. "You made it half a meter higher" Nico tried to comfort him. Jason forced a smile, not at all satisfied with his performance. Not much later, Percy was back on the ground, celebrating another overwhelming victory over Jason. Nico, on the other hand, wanted to finish that ridiculous challenge as quickly as possible, hoping to silence Percy. "Let's get going" he muttered, approaching the wall with slow steps, casting a calculating look at it, trying to figure out how it worked and what pace it had. It wasn't easy, but in the end, he decided to leave it to Fate.

The two demigods started together, first placing one foot and then one hand, leveraging with the muscles of all four limbs. Percy was fast, having done it many times before, but Nico was still agile. More than once, he managed not to have his shirt incinerated, and he also dodged some arrows. He fell behind, but at least he didn't give up the challenge. He managed to reach the top, but Percy won anyway, as he was already descending. Later, they were back on the ground, their clothes scorched and punctured by flames. Their breath was returning. "See, Grace" Percy said. "That's how you conquer the wall!" he exclaimed, putting his hand on Nico's shoulder, who was too focused on looking toward the archery range to notice Percy leaning on him. "Nico" Jason called, noticing that he had missed the conversation. "What?" he asked, realizing only at that moment that Percy had been leaning on him. "I said, do you want to go throw javelins?" Jason repeated. Nico gave him an absent look, alternating between Jason and the arrows being shot. It felt strange not to spend the afternoon with Will. He shrugged Percy off, who had rested enough for his taste. "Yes, sure" he replied to Jason, walking with him toward the arena.

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16

#🖇️ : fanfiction #i start over with you ☀️☠️ #solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #riordanverse #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fanfiction #camp halfblood

[p4nishers]

i still can't believe buck actually said the words "better than me" when eddie asked him how chris was doing after he was shot. like. that's insane. that's genuinely, completely insane. and the way he just goes out and says it with a nervous little chuckle then barrels on before eddie can say anything, APOLOGIZING for breaking down infront of christopher, ONCE AGAIN admitting to being a fucking mess after eddie was hurt. like my guy was trying real hard to form a coherent love confession after the love of his life almost died and while said loml was on too many sedatives at the moment to catch on. the shooting was a real slap in the face for buck in regards of his feelings for eddie bc while yes i do believe he known about them before, only after the shooting did he really feel the need to do something about it, bc again, he almost lost THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE and he'd never got to tell him if he did. but then of course he's slapped in the face again by eddie revealing the will and meaning it as a love confession while buck takes it as eddie drawing a line in the sand in their relationship, as him being downgraded to second choice. his whole demeanor changes towards eddie after, and i think it's most noticable with ana. bc before he was being AT LEAST half-heartedly supporting, trying to make an effort for his best friend but after shooting he's just. not. he straight up tells eddie to dump her, rather forcefully pushes at eddie to realize his relationship is failing, looks SOO happy, for completely unrelated reasons, im sure, after eddie basically tells him he's breaking up with ana. which is just so. ugh. yeah also him bringing up the shooting with eddie multiple times, "i mean you did also just get shot". him comparing his relationship with abby to eddie and ana's, while sounding like he's talking about a completely different thing (his own feelings for eddie.) i mean come on: "eddie, i've been ana, i know what's like to be in love with someone who's not all the way in, deep down you know it and it hurts" u trying to tell me that's about abby?? REALLY?? when he was intimidated by the responsibility of a serious relationship and of potentially taking care of her mom but with eddie he genuinely never, ever had that. he was all the way in the moment he drove eddie to chris' school and never once shown intimidation or annoyance at having to deal with chris. sounds like to me he was only all the way in for one relationship and that was not with abby. "that's not how you talk about someone you're in love with" and how would YOU know mr buckley, since u basically refused to talk about abby while and after u were in a relationship with her. and god his face when eddie says "if i'm being honest with myself it was ana". the naked surprise but also relief he shows seeing the first cracks in their relationship. he doesn't even try to seem supportive. "so what are you going to do" the fucking. transparent interest in how will eddie choose. he was so obvious, man. i've said this before and i'll say it again: s4-5 was buck's pinning era and it all started with the shooting.

#i blacked out while in the middle of writing this so if only one part makes sense im very sorry #its just. like the shooting is so unreal to me bc so many things happened buddie vise that i dont even believe are canon and buck #acting the way he did fascinates me SO MUCH bc he's so loud about his feelings he's always been the bleeding heart and seeing him just fall #apart in a way he hadn't ever before over eddie getting hurt is genuinely so important to me #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie 911 #buck x eddie #911 show #ana flores #abby clark #the way i didn't even extended on the 'better than me' when its what this whole post is supposed to be about im sorry my mind is stuck on #sami's jealous eddie/possessive buck post and i cant stop obsessing over it

[weepingfromacedartree]

Ten Milestones: First Pet

Hi friends! The first chapter of my new fic is now ready for anybody interested.

Hope you enjoy! I'll be posting chapters every Friday (and sometimes Tuesday).

Chapter 1: First Pet

Today: April 29th, 2023

Relationship Status: Dating

꙳

“Gregory just texted me to ask if we’re dating. I didn’t think he had my number.” 

“That little arsehole probably sent it to himself when he stole my phone.”

It’s Saturday, 7:02 PM. Penelope and Colin are sitting on the floor of his flat, a few containers of Chinese food littered between them. It’s not a particularly unusual setting to find either one of them in on a Saturday evening. However, some things are different now. 

Two weeks ago, they would not have been playing footsie. Not this shamelessly, at least. 

“I assumed that Eloise’s ‘vow of secrecy’ would involve her immediately telling Benedict… And that Benedict would tell Anthony… And that Anthony would tell Kate… But I don’t know how the rumour managed to spread to Cambridge in…” She glances down to her phone again. “Six hours flat.” 

“‘Rumour?’” Colin echoes, a smirk on his face. “Surely, you’re not trying to keep this sordid love affair hidden from me as well.”

“‘Sordid?’ God, Colin. You make us sound so dirty.” She kicks his foot away, then picks up her container of shrimp fried rice. “And I’m not trying to keep it from anyone. We both knew what was going to happen when I told El.” 

“Frankly, I’m surprised Greg didn’t text you sooner.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope watches as Colin uses his chopsticks to play around with his chicken dish, never actually putting a piece in his mouth. She can tell there’s something brewing in his mind.

“So… What are you gonna tell him?” he eventually asks.

“Well… I was going to leave him in suspense a little while longer. Maybe take the ‘no comment’ approach at first. Then, I don’t know… the truth?”

“Which is?”

Before answering, Penelope takes a moment to study the look on her supposed boyfriend’s face. She wonders if he’s playing dumb as a joke, or if there has been a miscommunication of monumental proportions between them. Judging from the expression on his face alone… 

Neither option seems to be the correct one. 

“Yes?”

She hadn’t intended for her answer to sound like a question, but her voice squeaked upward at the end, nonetheless. Colin doesn’t appear at all phased by her uncertainty, though. He looks quite calm and collected, placing his takeaway container on the coffee table and leaning further into the big blue couch behind him. 

“‘Dating’ is a bit too casual a word for us, I think.” 

“Okay…” Penelope draws those two syllables out as long as her breath allows her. She’s stalling for time, trying to sort out what it is that Colin is getting at. Still, she comes up empty. 

“It’s only been a week. What do you suggest we call —”

“We should get married.” 

“What!?”

He’s joking. He’s teasing. He’s —

“I said we should get married.” 

Before she can yelp out another barely intelligible sound, Penelope bites her tongue. Literally. She watches his face, remaining quiet, waiting for him to expand on this insane, out-of-nowhere proposal. In the end, all she gets is a smug little smirk.

“What do you mean, ‘We should get married?’”

“I thought it was a rather self-explanatory proposition.”

“Col—”

“Why does anyone get married? I love you. I wish to continue loving you forever and ever. Ergo, marriage.” 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“It wasn’t a joke.”

“It —”

“It was a proposal.”

“Colin,” she scolds, using the sternest tone she can manage to muster up — which, at the moment, happens to be about an octave higher than her typical speaking voice. 

If nothing else, at least he has the decency to drop that stupid smirk from his face in response to her apparent anxious state. 

“Pen,” he murmurs, leaning forward to place his left hand on her right knee. “Just think about it. We didn’t meet a week ago, we just finally admitted what we should have told each other years ago. I’ve known you my entire life, and I spent most of that time either too oblivious to realise how in love with you I was, or too scared to do anything about it. Dating just seems… unnecessary. We know what comes next — why delay it any longer?” 

Sitting stunned, eyes wide-open and fixed on the thumb currently tracing circles across her bare knee, Penelope attempts to make sense of what Colin just said. But the longer she sits there silent, the more divided her mind becomes. 

On one hand, at her core, Penelope is sensible. Reasonable. Logical. That part of her is sounding alarm bells, insisting his proposition is irrational and goes against everything she knows about marriages and engagements and proposals altogether. After all, plenty of people go from friends to lovers and don’t jump directly to marriage. 

On the other hand, also at her core, Penelope is a romantic. A willing fool. An idealist against her better judgement. That part of her is susceptible to Colin’s sweet, silly, and perhaps not so irrational words. She has been in love with him her entire life. Would it really be so crazy to —

Shaking her head ever so slightly, Penelope tentatively, regretfully brushes his hand off her knee. At the loss of her touch, Colin’s bottom lip juts out in a pout. 

“Dating isn’t casual, necessarily… It’s important. It’s like a — like a test run for marriage and —”

“Well —”

“And it’s different from friendship. It puts you through different tests and trials than you go through with someone when you’re just friends.”

Colin appears to think over her words for a moment, squinting at her in that way that makes his blue eyes look grey. 

“Friendship is not so different from dating,” he argues, eyes wide and blue again. “At least, not the way we did it.” 

“Col —”

“You’re right about one thing, though.”

“Oh. Is that so?” she asks, unable to contain her sarcasm, even now. 

“Dating is like a trial period. It’s when you figure out if your relationship is strong enough to last through all of the bullshit life can throw your way.” 

“That’s not exactly what I said.”

“Do you disagree with my summarisation?” His lips form a smirk that tells her that he already knows her answer. Still, she shakes her head. 

“Okay,” he chuckles, leaning in an inch closer to her. “And after the mountains of bullshit we went through during the course of our friendship, do you have any doubt about our ability to stick with each other through everything? Is there anything holding you back, Pen?”

No. Nothing. 

That’s the truth. There isn’t a single thing about Colin that she feels unsure of. Not anymore.

But still… 

Even if there has been love between them for decades, they couldn’t admit that to each other until a week ago. That assuredness — that knowing — is still so new. She’s spent more time deciding whether or not to cut bangs, and the answer always ends up being not.

Still…

“Let’s consult the experts.” 

Those four words break Penelope out of a daze she hadn’t realised she had fallen into. 

At some point in the last few seconds, Colin had pulled out his phone. Now, he’s typing away at the keyboard with alarming urgency. 

“What are you doing?” 

With his phone screen mostly out of her view, Colin taps it one final time before looking up to meet her curious eye. Then, he clears his throat. 

“Ten Milestones Every Couple Should Celebrate Before Walking Down the Aisle,” he reads aloud. “Number One: Sharing Your First —”

“What are you doing?” Penelope asks again. This time, a laugh escapes her lips as she does so. Something about the seriousness on Colin’s face reminds her of the absurdity of this situation. That it is a joke, whether or not he had intended it as such. 

“I know you think this is all very funny, but I’m serious,” Colin contends. “Everything a couple needs to go through in order to be prepared for marriage, we have surely gone through at some point over the last twenty years. We’ve wasted enough time as it is — why was even more of it by delaying the inevitable? It just seems silly.”

Penelope has a bad habit of getting lost in Colin. In his words, in his voice, in his eyes… All of which seem to be pulling her in with a force that could rival anything she’s felt in the last twenty years. So when he stops talking, presumably offering her the space to get in her latest rebuttal, she remains silent. 

With the smirk back on his face, he continues, “And while I know part of you is very tempted to agree with me and run down to the courthouse right now, I know the inherent skeptic in you needs some convincing.”

He briefly pauses again, this time to hold up his phone and display the article he had just been urgently searching for. 

“So we will go through this list, which details every milestone a couple must accomplish before they get married. At the end, if we find that we checked off every single to-do item while we were just friends, we will make the reasonable decision and get married.”

If there’s one thing Colin Bridgerton is unnervingly good at, it’s making a convincing argument. The realist and the romantic on Penelope’s shoulders suddenly go quiet.

“And where exactly did you find this scholarly article — the one you are basing such a life-altering decision on?” 

He looks down. 

“TheMarriageExpert.com” 

“Colin!” 

“They’re an expert, Pen!” 

Penelope giggles, for as often as Colin provokes her, his charm always gets her in the end. Once her laughter lets up, she thinks over his slightly altered proposal.

He’s convinced me to play more tedious games before…

“Fine. I agree to your terms. What’s first on that list of yours?” 

Any seriousness left on Colin’s face quickly melts away. He grins at her in that way that always makes her stomach flutter.

“Number One: Sharing Your First Pet,” he reads aloud. “During the course of your marriage, you and your partner will share many things together. Finances, homes, memories, and a million other things you cannot even begin to fathom now. A pet will help you prepare for those shared responsibilities. It will teach you both about the importance of…”

As Colin continues reading, Penelope feels a frown pulling down on her lips. When he finishes, she attempts to cover her disappointment with a shallow laugh. 

“Game over, I guess.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Pardon?” 

“We’ve never shared a pet, so…”

Colin’s mouth falls wide open. He pulls his free hand to his chest, as if the aghast look on his face wasn’t enough. 

“Pen… Did Mr. Whiskers mean nothing to you?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Twenty Years Earlier: July 21st, 2003

Relationship Status: Sister’s Best Friend // Best Friend’s Brother

꙳

How did I end up here?

Today is Monday. Today also happens to be the first real day of summer holiday for children all across London. For most kids, that means the start of freedom — six weeks of fun, followed by real life crashing down on them when the fall term begins. But for Penelope Featherington, it marks the start of something different. 

The loss of structure. 

For the next six weeks, it is up to Penelope to determine how — and more importantly, where — she spends the majority of her time. She didn’t want to spend it at home. Not this morning, at least. 

That was how she ended up in Grosvenor Square. 

At just eight years old, there aren’t many places she can run off to unaccompanied. Even the park, just two blocks away from her home, is hard to get away with. Her mum only allowed it because she was under the impression that Eloise would be joining her — that between Penelope’s sense and Eloise’s toughness, the two girls would be safe in the nearby park. But when Penelope ran across the street to request her best friend’s company, Anthony informed her that Eloise was not available for a morning stroll in the square. 

She could have gone back home, but she really didn’t want to. That was how she ended up in Grosvenor Square alone. 

While walking around the park’s perimeter, she kept her eyes down, careful not to step on any cracks in the pavement. She kept her shoulders hunched, trying her best to blend in with the other park-goers. She kept her ears pointed outward, picking up every little sound that surrounded her. 

She listened. To the birds chirping. To the wind rustling. To the rumbling engines of nearby traffic. Mostly, she listened to the people. 

Two teenagers were fighting. She was mad. He was sorry. She said something about him cheating, then their shouts turned to whispers and Penelope couldn’t make out the rest. As she walked out of earshot, she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of exam he could have cheated on that would warrant such a reaction. 

A man with a big yellow dog was flirting with a woman. Though Penelope couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, she could tell just from the look on her face that she wasn’t particularly liking what she was hearing. When Penelope got a little closer, the yellow dog started barking. By the time the man got his pet to settle down, the woman had disappeared. 

A neighbour from down the street walked past, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and pushing a stroller with the other. As Mrs. Abernathy walked closer, Penelope briefly considered hiding behind the nearest tree, certain that the woman would recognise her and ask where her mum was. But before Penelope could turn and run in the opposite direction, the little blonde baby started crying and distracted the woman. 

Just as she was about to turn the corner and listen into the teenage couple’s fight again, Penelope heard something new. 

“Meow.”

At first, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. But no. When she walked to the bush that the noise had originated from, two round green eyes stared back at her. 

Oh, right. 

Penelope looks down at the little grey ball of fur currently nestled in her arms. 

After approaching him in the park, the second thing she noticed was the kitten’s whiskers. They were so long — so disproportionate to how small everything else about him looked. He was so scrawny that Penelope couldn’t tell if he was actually a kitten, or just an older cat who had spent too much time with too little food in his stomach. 

She spent an hour searching Grosvenor Square and the surrounding area for his family. But with no collar and evidently no family in sight, Penelope decided to take her new friend home. 

Penelope and the cat spent approximately 20 minutes walking the 10-minute route home; she slowed her steps, took unnecessary turns, and waited longer than needed at crosswalks. During all of that time, she held the cat tightly to her chest, shielding him from the rest of the world with the nest she made out of her yellow cardigan. Also during that time, she practised what she would say to her mum once she and her hopeful pet arrived back at home.

“Penelope. Anne. Featherington. Get that rodent out of my house!” 

It had not gone well. But in truth, Penelope knew long before she landed back on her doorstep that this was all a lost cause. That there was nothing in the world she could have said to convince her mother to let her keep the cat.

Penelope had followed her mother’s instructions, fleeing from their home as quickly as her feet would allow. She didn’t have much of a plan once she hit the pavement outside, but like they so often do, her feet automatically started walking in the direction of the home across the street; they stopped short before she could reach it. 

Mr. Bridgerton died last summer. Ever since that morning in August when they learned of the awful news, Penelope’s mum has incessantly warned her against showing up at their door unannounced. After all, there are eight fatherless children in that house now — the youngest of which never even got to meet her father. They have enough going on as it is. 

They have enough going on as it is, Penelope repeats again and again and again. 

That’s how she got here. Sitting on the curb outside the Bridgerton household, a cat sleeping soundly in her lap. 

“It’s all gonna be okay,” she whispers to herself more than she does to him. 

Silently, Penelope wonders what the right thing to do is. Where the right place to go is. 

The first place she thinks of is an animal shelter. Surely, that is the most logical place to bring a lost kitten to. The people there would know how to take care of him — how to find him a home with people who will love him and keep him safe. The only problem: Penelope does not know of any actual animal shelters in Mayfair.

The second place she thinks of is the fire station down the street. Firefighters save cats, don’t they? Or was that —

“Pen?” 

Colin, her mind registers before she even has the chance to turn and look at him. Before she does so, she shifts in her spot and attempts to hide the contraband currently sleeping in her arms. And when she finally does set her eyes on him, her stomach starts to flutter; it always does when he smiles at her. 

“Hi,” she squeaks out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to —” 

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding to the kitten she clearly failed at concealing away from him. Before she has the chance to answer, he sits down beside her on the curb.

“Oh, I, uh — I found him in Grosvenor Square. He was all alone and I didn’t know where else to go…” 

Her voice trails off, once again contemplating what a responsible person would do next in this situation. 

“Are you gonna keep him?”

“No,” she answers, disappointment leaking through to her voice. “Mum won’t let me. She hates cats.” 

Penelope takes her eyes off the kitten to look up at Colin. While he may only be two years older, he stands nearly a head above her (he’s tall for his age — she’s short for hers). Even sitting right beside him, she has to tilt her head up just to look him in the eye. As usual, his mop of hair hangs so low that it nearly covers both his eyes, but still, Penelope can see little glimpses of blue shining through strands of brown.

She’s always quite liked that shade of blue. 

“I’d take him,” Colin says, raising his hand to pet the cat behind his ears. “But mum and Daph are both allergic.” 

Any butterflies left in Penelope’s stomach are quickly replaced by a new sensation. This one, not so pleasant. 

Mr. Bridgerton was allergic to hornets…

“Not that kind of allergic,” he reassures her, seemingly reading her mind. “They won’t, like, die or anything. Their skin will just get all red and scratchy if he gets anywhere near them.” 

“Oh, uh — sorry,” she stutters out, barely comprehending his last few sentences. “I should just go.” 

Pulling the kitten away from Colin, Penelope stands. She starts to turn in another direction, but is once again reminded that she has no idea where she is supposed to go. 

“Stop,” Colin orders, gently. He stands too. “Where are you gonna take him?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Where are you supposed to take stray cats?” 

He shrugs. 

“Dunno.” 

“Okay. Well —”

“But I have an idea.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

The Bridgertons live on a gold mine. Metaphorically. Literally, they live on nearly an acre of land in the middle of Mayfair. 

The Bridgertons’ home has been in their family for several generations. This is the primary reason why they’re able to hold on to so much land in London’s bloodthirsty real estate market. If they ever were to sell, a row of flats would be built up in the back garden within a fortnight. 

(Inheritance is the same reason why Penelope is able to remain in her own home on Grosvenor Street, despite her father’s tendency to dwindle away all of their other assets. The Featheringtons’ garden is not nearly this sprawling, though.)

“Where are we going?” 

She and Colin hadn’t gone through his house. Rather, they went around it. They’re currently walking along the wall towards the back of the estate. Colin is a few steps ahead of her, tracing the cracks in the stones with his index finger. 

“Have some patience, Pen.” 

“I — I do.” And she does. Usually. 

Usually, Penelope is a remarkably patient girl. Well-mannered. Quiet. She usually wears those attributes on her shoulders like a uniform. But for some reason, they tend to slip away from her whenever Colin is near. 

She looks over her shoulder, towards the massive house behind them. It’s purposeful, she suddenly realises, that they’re walking along the shadows of this wall. 

“Is Eloise home yet?” she asks, for no other reason than to fill the silence between them. 

Usually, Penelope doesn’t feel the need to fill silences like these. She usually feels quite comfortable in them. 

“Uh, no. Ben took her into the city for her, uh… Her doctor’s appointment. They’ll probably get back around supper time.” 

Out of Colin’s view, Penelope nods. 

For the past year — ever since her father died — Eloise has been seeing a doctor in the city pretty regularly. Penelope’s mum told her to never ask any follow up questions about these visits, but in her own head, she’s always wondered what type of doctor is able to fix an ailment such as heartbreak. 

“Are you leaving London for the summer holiday?” she asks, another attempt to fill the void. She already knows the answer. The Bridgertons always travel up to Aubrey Hall this time of year. Always. 

“No. Just staying here, I guess.” 

Dread appears suddenly and sits heavily in Penelope’s stomach. 

Mr. Bridgerton died at Aubrey Hall last summer. Of course they’re not eager to return.  

“Oh, uh,” she eventually mumbles, her mind desperately searching for any route this conversation could take that would land them back in safe territory. “Us too,” is all she manages to say. 

“Cool. I’ll see you around then.”

She feels her cheeks instantly flush. “Yeah. Cool,” she says, hoping her voice does not expose the growing warmth on her skin. 

Without another word, Colin breaks away from the stone wall and walks towards a particularly dense cluster of trees at the edge of the property. He leads them to a spot that, despite spending so much of her childhood playing in this very garden, she has never seen before. It’s a little wooden shed, wide and about as tall as Penelope. 

“What is that?” 

“A shed,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. “I think they used to store firewood in here — you know, back in the olden times.” Walking up next to it, he undoes the little metal latch with a flick of his index finger. “Empty now, though. I don’t think anyone remembers it’s here.” 

“So…” 

“So, your cat could live here.” 

Penelope looks down. At some point in the last few minutes, she had somehow forgotten about the creature held tightly against her chest. She had forgotten her whole point in being here. 

“Oh! Right. That’s, um…” 

She steals another glance at the shed. It certainly looks like it hasn’t been used since the “olden times.”

“That’s nice of you to offer. But how would he — how would that work?” 

“I know it seems bare now, but we get him a bed, milk, food — everything a cat needs to survive — and he’ll be happy here.”

Bed. Milk. Food.

“Those things cost money. I —” 

Colin shrugs. “I’ll steal a tenner out of Anthony’s wallet,” he says casually. 

When Penelope’s face is overtaken by shock, a cheeky smile erupts on his. 

“Kidding! I’ll just tell him I’m sad. He’ll hand me some cash and tell me to go fix my feelings with ice cream.” 

“Oh, okay. But…” Her mind stalls, searching for another flaw in his logic to voice aloud. The problem is, there are just so many to choose from. 

“My mum always says we can’t get a pet because they’re too much responsibility. You have to take care of them. You have to feed them, make sure they —” 

“Hey,” he interrupts, smile still hanging on his lips. “We’re both very responsible people. I help keep Greg alive, and that kid thinks licking an electrical socket is a fun hobby. If I can do that, keeping a cat alive will be nothing.” 

“So we would, um…” She steals yet another glance at the shed in front of them; she can’t help but look at it and see a cage. “We would just keep him locked up in there all day?” 

“No,” he reassures her. “We’ll keep the door open — or I could even cut a cat-sized hole in the side. You know, so he can come and go as he pleases.” 

“But if he’s able to leave that easily… Won’t he get lost again?” 

Colin shakes his head.

“If I know anything about cats it’s that if you feed them, they’ll always find their way back to you. And since you found him hanging out in Grosvenor Square, clearly he’s an outside cat, not an inside cat.”

Penelope looks down at the little grey cat in her arms. His attention is no longer on her,  his round eyes darting wildly as he takes in the space around them.

“I thought only strays went outside.” 

“No. A cat can have a home and not want to be cooped up in it all day long.” Colin takes a few steps towards her, raising his hand and scratching behind the kitten’s little ears. The cat seems to like it, as he starts purring immediately. “Clearly, this little guy wants to roam free.” 

Yet again, Penelope feels her cheeks burn pink. She isn’t used to this — being so close to him. In fact, she can’t think of a single time when the two of them have ever been so close and so alone together. After all, Colin is her best friend’s brother — a friend of sorts, but tangentially so. Until today, he has only ever been in Penelope’s company through her friendship with Eloise. 

She isn’t used to having this much of his attention on her. 

“Here.” After what feels like hours, she pulls the kitten away from her chest and nearly shoves him into Colin’s. “He seems to really like you.” 

Annoyingly quickly, the creature settles soundly into his arms. Clearly, Colin’s natural charm works just as well on animals as it does on human beings. 

When Colin turns his back and his gaze falls on something other than her, Penelope’s mind flushes with panic. She rethinks words she had mostly brushed off just moments before. 

Colin offering to spend his own money. To cut a hole in the shed. To take care of this little creature she found in a bush.  

He has enough going on as it is. 

When she looks to where he now stands, Penelope spots Colin setting the cat down in his prospective home. The cat takes two tiny steps across the wooden beams before Penelope walks over and hastily takes him into her arms again. 

“I’m sorry, Colin. I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in this.” She turns away, pulling the kitten even closer into her chest.  “I’ll drop him off at the fire —”

“Pen, stop.” 

Before she can step away, Colin’s hand falls on her shoulder. He squeezes it once before letting it drop back to his side. Although Penelope is not very experienced in receiving small physical gestures such as this, she can tell he had meant for it to be reassuring. 

“He’ll be fine here. I promise.”

She turns slowly. 

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” 

“No,” he laughs. “Of course not. How could this little guy ever be ‘too much?’” 

Pushing away all the alarm bells blaring in her head, informing her that this is a bad idea, Penelope pushes her shoulders back. She stands tall — metaphorically, of course. 

“I’ll do half the work,” she tells him. “At least. I can check on his bowl every morning — make sure he has water and food and whatever else he needs. Maybe you can do the same at night. And if you ever can’t, just tell me and I’ll help. And if it ever does become too much, I can find him somewhere else to live.” 

When she finally stops rambling and closes her mouth, Colin smiles again. Then, he extends his right hand towards her. 

“You got yourself a deal, Featherington.”

Tentatively, Penelope raises her arm to seal said deal. But before she can make contact, Colin’s hand moves again. He turns his palm towards her, as if to signal “stop.”

“One ground rule before we make it official: let’s keep this whole thing between the two of us. Cause if Anthony finds out… he’ll send me and the cat to the nearest shelter.”

“Colin! I —” 

“Kidding!” He laughs again, which has a shockingly effective influence on Penelope’s nerves. 

“But really… It’s simpler if we don’t tell anyone else. Not even Eloise — she can’t keep a secret for her life.” 

While thinking over his words, Penelope tilts her head upwards. She steals a not-so-quick glance at his eyes — at the little bits of blue shining through the brown. 

For as long as she can remember, Penelope has always wanted more of Colin. Though she won’t be able to fully understand or define this feeling for several more years, it burns in her heart, even now. She wants to be closer to him. To make him laugh. To be his friend. To share a secret with him — even if she knows that it could very well end badly for everyone involved. 

“Deal.” 

With that, Penelope shakes Colin’s hand and seals their fate forever. 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 5th, 2003

Their secret turned out to be a rather easy one to keep. 

Penelope was good at going unseen. Every morning at approximately 7:00, she snuck into the Bridgerton back garden, walking along the shadows of the east-facing wall. At approximately 7:10 every morning, she snuck out without being noticed by anyone except Colin, who always kept an eye out for her from his bedroom window. If his mum or siblings ever were to catch her back there, he highly doubts they would care or even bat an eye; before this past year, Penelope seemed to spend more time in their home than she did her own.

Colin was also good at escaping notice on his daily task. Every night around dusk, he would sneak into a bathroom, fill a plastic bottle with tap water, hide it in the pocket of whatever hoodie he happened to be wearing that day, and slip out the back door — always unseen by his family members. They keep the cat food in a little locked container in the shed — both of which Colin had bought using money he had stolen from Anthony’s wallet (not that he would admit to following through on the theft “joke” to Penelope).

As the summer droned on, and as dusk came quicker with each passing day, Colin put less and less effort into sneaking out every night. The more time passed, the more obvious it became to him, how easy it is to disappear from a home with so many people — especially when everyone seems to be looking for a person who is no longer around. 

The only conspirator that ever put them at risk of being found out was Mr. Whiskers (a name Colin picked after Penelope insisted that they couldn’t just keep calling him “little guy”). 

Three times in two weeks, Whiskers had loitered around the Bridgerton’s back steps following his dinner, meowing for someone’s attention. Colin had caught him the first time and shooed him off. Daphne caught him the second time and screamed bloody murder. Anthony caught him the third and nearly called animal control. The only reason he didn’t was because Gregory just so happened to push a vase off a table one room over; the mess had been too distracting. 

Thankfully, Whiskers seemed wary of coming close to the Bridgerton household after that last encounter. 

A routine formed. Penelope would sneak into the garden in the morning. Colin would sneak out of his home at night. Mr. Whiskers would come and go as he pleased between meals. Their paths rarely ever cross. That is, until tonight. 

Tonight — like most nights — Colin can’t sleep. He ran up to his bedroom at 9:16, only after being ordered to do so by Anthony. He’s spent much of the last 145 minutes in bed staring at the ceiling. Now, bored out of his skull and needing any sort of distraction, he jumps up to grab the MP3 player and headphones sitting on the windowsill. 

He turns up the volume all the way and, for the next few minutes, does his best to tune out the rest of the world. It’s probably for the best that he fails in doing so, otherwise he wouldn’t have noticed the shadow cutting across the moonlight in his back garden. 

Less than five minutes later, Colin cuts along that same path; he’s far less cautious than he ever is at dusk. He knows there’s a chance that someone in the house could still be awake and spot him out here, but that risk feels less worrisome, the closer he gets to his intended destination.

Just as it comes into view, he hears sniffling. The sound is quiet, but persistent. 

He sees her before she sees him. She’s sitting with her legs crossed in the shed’s open doorway, Mr. Whiskers curled up in her lap. 

Colin had felt uneasy from the very moment he spotted her from his bedroom window, but a distinct wave of dread hits him cold the moment that his eyes meet Penelope’s. Hers go so wide that he swears he can see the moonlight reflecting off of them. 

She doesn’t immediately speak; even her crying halts after realising that she is not alone. 

“Pen?” he asks, when he can think of nothing else to say. He waits several seconds for her to give some sort of reaction. A word, a nod — anything. But still, she remains frozen in her spot in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. 

“Are you o—” 

“Yes,” she shoots out. “Yes, I, uh — I — I’m fine.” 

Finally, Penelope moves. She places her hands around the cat’s belly and uncrosses her feet like she’s about to run off into the night. And though her claims of being “fine” offered his mind zero reassurance, Colin nods at her words anyway. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, sitting down beside her before she has the chance to flee. He raises his hand and scratches behind Mr. Whiskers’ ears while the cat remains perched on Penelope’s legs. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he offers, unprompted. “I thought I would see what Whiskers was up to.”

“Oh,” Penelope says. Then, in an even fainter voice, “Same.” 

As he continues scratching, the kitten purrs; his soft murmur is the only sound in the air for several long seconds. Just when the silence begins to feel a bit too heavy on his skin, Colin drops his hand and looks up at the scene above them. 

“Do you know any constellations?” 

After a few more beats of silence, Penelope raises her finger to the sky. “That’s the North Star. And that’s the Little Dipper, connected to it.” She repositions her finger slightly. “And that’s the Big Dipper, right next to it.” She repositions her finger once more before dropping it. “And that’s Aries.”

Though the stars don’t shine as brightly here as they do in the country, Colin’s eyes glaze over the soft specks of light in the sky, searching for something familiar. Specifically, he’s searching for the constellation that Benedict had pointed out to him last summer at Aubrey Hall, just a few nights before their father died. 

“That’s Capricorn.” He points his finger towards the sky, to his own star sign. THe snorts. “Do you know what type of creature a Capricorn is?”

Penelope shakes her head.

“Half-goat, half-fish. Like a mermaid with horns and a pair of hooves.”

Then, a miracle happens. 

Penelope giggles. The sound is soft, but it cuts right through the darkness.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not as cool as a ram, but…”

“Are there any cats in the constellations?” Penelope asks once Colin’s voice trails off. 

He considers her question for a moment, recalling other star stories Benedict has told him over the years. He looks up to the sky, hoping he can discern an outline of a kitten somewhere between the lights. 

“Dunno,” he finally admits. “But there are lots of stars — most of them, we can’t even see. There’s gotta be at least one cat out there. Somewhere.” 

Penelope hums in agreement, looking down at her lap. “Mr. Whiskers is a good cat,” she quietly muses.

“Yeah.” Colin reaches over to pet behind his little grey ears. “The best.”

“He keeps trying to follow me home after breakfast.” She giggles softly. “He must not remember meeting my mum, or else he would stay away forever. She thought I was carrying a rat into our house. She shrieked.” 

“Oh god,” Colin chuckles, and it’s only a little forced. “He tried sneaking into my house a few times. He met Anthony last time, though, and I don’t think he’s ever gonna forget that.”

She giggles again, her smile lighting up in the moonlight. 

“Was he mad?” 

“His face went red! Ant is always at least a little bit angry, but this was ridiculous. No normal human could get that mad about a cute little kitten hanging around their back door.” 

With her eyes still pointed intently on the cat in her lap, Penelope’s voice lowers to almost a whisper. “I don’t know how people can see something so sweet and get so mad.”

Colin’s eyes don’t leave Penelope when he responds, “Me neither.” 

For what feels like an unending moment, the three of them sit there in silence, looking up at the moon and the stars and the darkness all around. The longer the moment holds, the harder it becomes for Colin to push away the worries that had been building inside himself since the moment he spotted Penelope running across his back garden at midnight. 

Trying his hardest to keep his tone casual… 

“Was there a reason you couldn’t sleep tonight?” 

She doesn’t respond right away. She doesn’t attempt to flee, either. 

“No. It was…” She pauses for a very long, very quiet moment. “It was nothing.”

“Pen, you —” 

“Nothing that isn’t — like — normal, I mean.”

Colin does not know what she means. He can’t imagine a single normal thing that would cause someone to run away crying from their home in the middle of the night. Especially someone as small and defenceless as Penelope. 

“My mum and dad were just fighting,” she confesses, only after realising that Colin’s look of concern will not fade until she tells him the truth. “A bit louder than usual, I guess. But it’s not like I haven’t heard them fight a million times before.” 

“That’s —” not normal, he almost says, but holds his tongue at the last moment. 

He’s suddenly, alarmingly struck by the fact that what he deems “normal” might not be the same for Penelope. That there are “normal” things in his own life that others would say are unimaginable for a kid his age. 

That’s not right, would be more accurate. But he doesn’t say that either. Instead, he simply asks, “Do you want to come inside? El is probably asleep, but I could wake her —” 

“No,” she answers, looking him in the eye for the first time in what feels like hours. “Thank you, but… It’s really late. I should go back home before someone notices I left.” She lets out one awkward, forced laugh before saying, “Mum will kill me if she realises I slipped out.” 

With one quick motion, Penelope scoops up Whiskers, plops him into Colin’s lap, then pushes herself out of the shed and back on solid ground. Just as she looks like she’s about to turn and run, Colin gathers the cat in his arms and stands beside her. 

“Are you sure? It’s no bother.”

For the briefest moment, it almost looks like doubt crosses Penelope’s face. But then, just as quickly, she shakes her head. 

“I should go home.” 

Regretfully, Colin tears his eyes away from hers, turning his head to glance at his own home in the distance. The only light still on comes from his bedroom window. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, turning back to her. “I guess I should too.” 

Penelope nods. Just when it looks like she’s about to turn and disappear into the darkness, Colin blurts something out. 

“Do you wanna meet here again in the morning? When you feed Mr. Whiskers?” 

She seems taken aback by his question. She doesn’t immediately respond to it with words, but with a confused, almost worried expression on her face. 

“I —”

“Our system’s efficient and all,” he cuts in, “but we haven’t exactly seen much of each other since we started taking care of him. I dunno, I guess I just thought that we would be hanging out more this summer.” 

“Oh!” Her voice suddenly comes out so high that it borders a squeak. “I know what you mean. I…”

Her voice trails off. It remains silent for so long that Colin wonders if it's his turn to speak. But before he can blurt anything else out, she opens her mouth. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Cool,” he says, lips pulling into a smile. “See you tomorrow.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 14th, 2003

“I’m not sure I understand the rules of this game.”

“It’s our game. The rules can be whatever we want them to be.” 

Penelope stands with the tips of her toes and the palms of her hands pressed neatly against Colin’s matching sets. There’s a piece of cat biscuit placed between her right palm and his left. There’s a tiny grey cat peering up at them from where their shoes connect; he looks just as confused on the parameters of this game as Penelope feels. 

The rules, they eventually settle on, are these: 

Before getting into position, one person briefly presents a piece of biscuit to Mr. Whiskers. Players must take turns to avoid leading the cat towards favouritism. 

On the count of three, one person takes the biscuit into their hands, then both turn around and run in opposite directions. 

Mr. Whiskers follows whoever he believes holds his treat. 

She ends up with the biscuit three times. He ends up with it five times. It falls to the ground between them eleven times. Each time, without fail, Mr. Whiskers immediately takes off after Penelope. 

“This isn’t fair!” Colin calls out from behind a tree on their twentieth attempt at this so-called ‘game.’ “It’s not my fault you bonded with him first.” He points a finger at the cat currently pawing at her ankles. “I feed you just as much as she does — traitor!”

“Shhh, Colin!” Penelope whisper-yells. “Someone might hear you.” 

“Oh, who cares?” 

I care, Penelope thinks. She doesn’t want Colin’s mum or any one of his many siblings to stumble upon them back here. She’s not ready to give up this secret. She’s not willing to end this game. 

Not yet, anyway. 

“Mr. Whiskers cares. I doubt he wants to be kicked out of his home just because you’re a sore loser.” 

Penelope picks up Whiskers from the patch of dirt he had just been rolling around in. She walks over to the shed where Colin now sits, then gently plops the brown-tinged grey cat in his lap. 

“Well, he should have thought about that before picking sides.”

Like she has become accustomed to doing over the past two weeks, Penelope sits down on the other end of the shed’s open doorway. Colin’s body is turned towards her, but she keeps hers positioned outwards, as if to keep watch. 

After a moment of quiet, he clears his throat. 

“You can come over for dinner tonight. You know, if you want.” 

“Oh, no. That’s okay,” Penelope says quickly. Dismissively. “Mum will expect me home soon. I think we’re having stew.” 

“Yeah, but what about tomor—” 

Colin’s voice stops short before he can get that last word out. Then, he pivots his head so he is no longer facing her. 

“Well, maybe not tomorrow,” he eventually mutters, quieter than before. “But another day.”

Tomorrow is the anniversary, Penelope remembers. Along with that sudden, heart-aching reminder comes a little voice in her head that sounds distinctly like her mother. 

They have enough going on as it is. 

“I — I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t.” He finally looks her in the eye again. “Trust me, you wouldn’t. When you have eight kids, one more mouth hardly makes a difference.” He nods his head towards the house in the distance, partially obstructed by the scattering of trees they’ve found themselves in. 

“Eloise would be happy if you stopped in. Mum too.” 

Trying her absolute hardest to ignore that little voice in her head…

“Yeah. Another day. Soon.” 

“Good.” 

After another moment of quiet, Penelope pushes herself forward and lands with two feet in the grass. 

“I really should head back, though.” 

“Okay, I’ll —”

“But, Colin?” she interrupts (a truly rare occurrence for Penelope Featherington). 

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking and… Maybe I could feed Mr. Whiskers breakfast and dinner tomorrow. I know we have our system, but… I just — you shouldn’t have to deal with taking care of him on top of any… family stuff.”

Colin doesn't respond right away. He spends several seconds looking at her with his brows furrowed; Mr. Whiskers uses that time to settle even deeper into his arms. Finally, his lips part. Penelope expects the first word out of his mouth to be “No,” but it isn’t. 

“Sure.” He nods, brows lifting up a bit. “Thanks, Pen. That’s kind of you to offer.” 

Penelope is surprised by his words. Not just because she was expecting him to dismiss her offer, but because she had never been thanked for something like this before. Her entire life, kindness was something that had been expected of her, but never really appreciated. She had been rewarded for her kindness in the past, but never thanked for it. 

She’s hesitant to accept such thanks — gratitude for something as small as offering up a few minutes of her time for someone who had experienced more grief than she could even begin to imagine. But she can’t bring herself to deny it either. So instead, she simply nods and says, “Goodnight, Colin.” 

 ꙳ ꙳ ꙳

August 25th, 2003

It’s Monday morning, 6:55 AM. Like most mornings around this time, Penelope is walking along the Bridgerton’s east-facing wall, feet stepping in the shadows, one finger tracing the stones beside her. Unlike most mornings, when she steps away from the wall and towards the shed hidden by a cluster of trees, she notices that the door that is always open is suddenly shut tight. 

At the beginning of the summer, Penelope had convinced Colin not to cut a cat-sized opening in the side of the shed (he wanted to use a saw from his garage). Instead, they decided to always keep the door open so Mr. Whiskers could come and go as he pleases. Always. 

Her feet pace faster with each and every step, intrigue and anxiety building up and piling over the closer she gets to that closed door. 

It could not have closed on its own. It wasn’t the wind or gravity or Whiskers himself.  The latch is locked. Someone locked it. 

Just as she raises her arm to swing the wooden door back open, Penelope hears footsteps. Quick and increasingly loud footsteps. She (literally) jumps around, heat pounding, eyes wide, and sees…

“Colin! Where’s Mr. Whiskers?!”

“In there.” 

He points to the shed behind her, still shut tight. Once he gets close enough, he reaches over her shoulder and finally undoes the latch. Just as promised, the cat is there, curiously staring up at them with those round green eyes.

“He keeps trying to follow me back into the house after I feed him at night. Last night, he was scratching at the back door. Thank god I got to him before Anthony did.” 

“So he was just locked in there all night?” 

She spares another sideways glance at the shed’s interior. It’s not nearly as bare as it had been that first day she looked inside. Now, there are two containers, two bowls, two electric lanterns, a blanket, a few cat toys, and a few human toys she assumes once belonged to Colin. 

To an animal as tiny as Mr. Whiskers, this place might seem huge — but to Penelope, it all feels very claustrophobic. 

“Yeah,” Colin finally answers, sounding guilty. “But sometimes it’s just safer for him to stay put for a little while. Even outdoor cats need to be reigned in some nights.” 

Penelope doesn’t know whether to agree or disagree with his words, so she tries her best to ignore them — for a little while, at least. After climbing into the shed and filling his empty bowl with food, she gives Whiskers an affection bop on the head. 

“You’re not wrong,” she belatedly answers. When Mr. Whiskers finishes his meal, Penelope turns and hops back onto the grass. Tilting her head to look Colin in the eye, she says, “But maybe Mr. Whiskers isn’t an outside cat after all. Maybe that’s why he keeps trying to follow us back to our own homes.” 

“I thought that was just because he loves us.” 

Penelope can’t help but roll her eyes just a little. Leave it to Colin Bridgerton to transform guilt into charm in under 30 seconds. 

“Well…” She turns back to Mr. Whiskers again. As usual, he’s peering up at them with a transfixed — maybe even loving — stare. “Maybe you have a point.” 

“I usually do —” 

“But still… Do you really think this is what’s best for him?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…”

She bites her tongue. Literally. 

All of this started because of her own selfish desires. To keep the cat. To occupy Colin’s attention. To possess a reason to get out of her house every morning. 

Her selfishness and its inevitable consequences were easy to overlook at the start of the summer. But now…

“The summer is almost over. When we go back to school, we won’t be able to look out for him all day. Then the winter will come and this little shed isn’t going to be very warm.” She stops ranting briefly to glance down at the little grey cat in the doorway. “What if he gets sick? Or needs a vet? I just don’t know if this is really his best option.”

She points both hands towards the shed. Towards the small wooden structure that completely transformed her summer. Towards the only home Mr. Whiskers has ever known — dim and claustrophobic as it may be. She expects Colin’s eyes to follow her lead, but they don’t. 

For a moment, it feels as though her presence completely slips from his view. His eyes are fixated on something in the distance. Something in the opposite direction. Something —

“Shite!” 

Colin’s arms hastily wrap around Penelope’s waist. It takes everything in her not to shriek in surprise as he practically throws her into the shed. Thankfully, Mr. Whiskers jumps backwards instantly, or else she surely would have crushed him on impact. 

“Colin! What —”

“Shh!” 

He climbs in and quickly shuts the door behind him. If it were not for the electric lamps in the corner, illuminating the space with what little battery power they have left, Penelope wouldn’t discern him mouthing: “Anthony.” 

They sit on opposite sides of the shed, the tips of their toes touching in the limited space. Penelope wonders if Colin can feel her shaking through the rubber edges of her yellow converse. The concerned look he throws her tells her that he must.

“You okay?” he mouths. 

She thinks about nodding. She briefly wonders if a nod counts as a lie, or if lies can only be spoken aloud. In the end, she doesn’t do anything — except remain frozen in her spot. 

Everything is quiet. For a fleeting moment, Penelope actually believes they may have gone unnoticed. Then, just as Mr. Whiskers decides to move out of the corner and crosses the wooden floor, she remembers that the latch — the flimsy piece of metal that is the only means of securing this thing — is on the other side. And when the cat uses his tiny paw to press against the door’s interior, she barely has time to gasp before it swings open. 

The morning light nearly blinds her, but not enough to miss Anthony Bridgerton’s very mad, very red face staring back at her. 

“Colin — what the hell?!” 

Just as Colin had thrown her into the shed less than a minute ago, Anthony now pulls Penelope out of it by her shoulders. Just like Whiskers, she miraculously manages to land on her feet. 

“I knew it! I knew you were irresponsible, but this —” He bends down and grabs Whiskers by the scruff of his neck. “This is insane. Even for you.” 

Anthony turns to Penelope, looking as though he only just now discovered her presence here. In mere seconds, she watches his face turn from anger to shock to annoyance. Then, he turns to face his little brother again. 

“I will be the responsible adult and make sure this — thing — finds an actual home and doesn’t continue living on the streets.” With a near-growl caught in his throat, he tells Colin, “We will discuss this later.” 

Anthony turns to leave, but stops just as quickly.

“And Colin, do not mention this to mum. Or anyone else.” 

He starts then stops again. 

“And Penelope, please do not let my brother’s bad influence rub off on you. A nice girl like you has enough trouble as it is being friends with Eloise.” 

It isn’t until Anthony has stomped out of sight with Mr. Whiskers in tow that Penelope starts to regain control of her body and mind. Slowly, she turns towards Colin. She uses every one of those seconds to begin preparing an apology. For getting him in trouble with his brother. For putting him in this mess to begin with. For being a bad friend. But when their eyes meet… Colin does not look as though he is expecting an apology of any sort. 

He laughs. 

“Did you see the look on his face?!” 

“Uh — I don’t —” 

 “He looked like a tomato! I swear one day he’s gonna burst and —”

“Colin,” she tries to cut in, to little avail.  

“— pasta sauce is gonna go flying ev—”

“Colin!” she says again, a bit louder this time. Thankfully, it seems to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“Oh god, Pen. Don’t be sorry.” 

“But your — your brother —”

“I should be apologising on Ant’s behalf. Even if you and him were both right about Whiskers needing somewhere else to live.”

Penelope’s mouth parts, but all she can do is nod in response to those last few words. As much as she will miss her tiny, furry friend, this is for the best. For Whiskers, at least. 

“But Anthony was so mad at you. And I —”

“He’ll get over it. That’s the great thing about having seven siblings — wait five minutes and someone will do something ten times stupider. Daphne and Eloise are probably inside getting into a fist fight as we speak.” 

The mention of her best friend’s name temporarily draws Penelope’s thoughts away from her internal pity party. While she did hang out with Eloise over the last few weeks, their time together felt far less frequent and more fleeting than it ever had during previous summer holidays. During any time before last August. 

“You wanna come over for dinner tonight?” Colin asks, breaking Penelope from her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“I said,” he smirks, “do you want to come over for dinner tonight?” 

“I don’t know… Anthony seemed —”

“Don’t worry about him — he’ll get over it. And you heard him, he’s not even going to rat us out to my mum.” He takes a step forward, then places his hand on Penelope’s shoulder. He squeezes it once. “It’ll be fun. Everyone will be excited to see you.” 

Not for the first time — and certainly not the last — Penelope feels at a loss for words. All she can manage is a tiny nod. A nearly imperceptible movement. 

Colin smiles. 

“Good. Just so you know, the door is always open. Always.” 

Finally, little Penelope Featherington finds her voice again. 

“I know.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------- 

There’s a smile pulling apart Penelope’s lips, but she does her best to cover it with another fork full of fried rice. Colin — of course — sees right through her attempt at concealment.

“So…” 

“Anthony was right. We were awfully irresponsible that summer. That cat was better off after Danbury took him in and re-named him Lord Whiskers.”

“Hey — give us a little credit! How many 8 or 10-year-olds do you know who could keep a cat alive for an entire summer all by themselves?” 

“The only impressive thing we did that summer was keeping our little secret hidden from the rest of your family.” 

“What are you talking about?!” Colin practically cries out, unable to keep his ever-charming laugh from escaping his throat as he speaks. “Do not downplay our role in raising Whiskers. You rescued him from the mean streets of London. I —”

“I found him hiding out in a bush in Grosvenor Square!”

“Exactly! And I —” 

“Colin!”

“I built him a home,” he barely manages to get out through another round of laughter.

“That’s a bit over-dra—”

“We fed and took care of him for over a month. We were just kids — that’s pretty impressive. That means something.”

In her heart, Penelope knows that — obviously — it means something. But does it mean what Colin wants it to mean? That they should get married? 

Even with the rules he set forth, it seems like an insane connection to even consider.

“I don’t know…” 

“For five weeks, he was ours. That means a lot.”

For a moment, Penelope does consider it. 

She thinks about who Colin was to her before she found that cat. A friend — of sorts. Her best friend’s brother. A neighbour. A crush. Someone she looked at and longed for. 

Next, she thinks about who Colin was to her on that morning, when Anthony found them hiding out in a tiny wooden shed. A friend. A fellow kid. A conspirator. Someone who saw her cowering in the dark and asked if she was okay. 

So what, if their hypothetical marriage hinges on a technicality? People have married on flimsier grounds before. 

“Fine,” she relents. “It counts.” 

A moment ago, she wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Colin’s grin grows even wider. 

“Of course it does.” 

Penelope scoffs, yet another lazy attempt to cover the grin on her own face. Colin makes no attempt to call her out on it, though. He’s too busy scrolling on his phone. 

“Let’s see what we have next to cross off…”

#bridgerton #fanfiction #polin #fanfic #weepingfromacedartree #ten milestones #penelope x colin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

[avpdvoidspace]

one thing I wish was discussed more in reference to avpd is how it affects school and work and hobbies. it's mentioned sometimes but not in great depth, and your recent post on how you can't be around someone if you don't immediately feel comfortable with them is also very relatable and applicable to other social situations too, methinks

I went to college for a week. I would stay outside til the middle of the night so I wouldn't have to be around a roommate I didn't know in a cramped dorm. I didn't go to classes. I would sit in abandoned alleys behind buildings and read so I could relax without worrying about seeing someone

tried again, moved again, lived off-campus. this time I didn't even go to school just because the thought of it becoming a reality was terrifying. I would have to interact with people I didn't know? in a field I was inexperienced in?

I've also never held a job for more than a week. it gets too overwhelming and I quit. sometimes I go though the full application and interview process, get accepted, and turn it down once I realize it entails actually working with people

same with hobbies that involve other people. maybe I'll last a day or two doing something new but if I don't immediately feel safe I'll never go again

I understand that most people imagine dating and friendships when they hear 'social' but oh my god it affects EVERYTHING. I can't even pass someone on the sidewalk without feeling like I'm about to die of fear.

(p.s. anyone and everyone is encouraged to add on I really like relating to people)

All great additions, and yeah, I have just tried to be as anonymous and hidden as possible in school and work situations. Now I'm physically disabled and unable to work and I don't miss it at all. The most stressful part was always being around people and peoples' expectations on me. I'd hide in the library room, the bathroom, and the printing room when I was a teacher's assistant. When I worked as a file clerk, I would never come out of the file room, and it was fine because the other workers would just leave the files outside to fileroom door. The best job I ever had was cleaning vacation houses, though. Even though I was working with a crew, we'd devide up and take on a different part of the rental, and I could be totally alone and just do the work. Now I spend the majority of my day completely alone trying to make a career out of one of my hobbies, and apart from the whole being poor thing, I've never been happier. As for hobbies, I have ocpd, so you know I'm going to get obsessive about a few hobbies. Of course, all of them are things I can do 100% alone. Drawing, studying languages, and single player video games. The thought of a multiplayer, especially competitive, video game fills me with unspeakable dread. Anyway, I truly wish there were more jobs where you could just work in solitude. As for now, I can only think of some janitorial/cleaning jobs, and being a hotel night auditor in a not busy area. And it'd be nice if you could get an education without having to interact with so many other people. Accomodations for agoraphobic and avoidant students? Where are these?

#avpd #avoidant personality disorder