#hes still done awful things and has no idea how to fix any of it except literally fucking dying for izu apparently

[hwitzr]

general themes and ideas for my portrayal of katsuk.i:

a broken prototype: "then turn selfishness into a weapon. make things yours, make other lives and dreams hopes yours." / "it feels like i'm sad for an infinite number of my selves." / "it has to be perfect. to make up for it, to make for the fact that it's me."

butterflies:  re: metamorphosis, "you listen and you know you could live a better life than you do, be softer, kinder. and maybe this year you will be able to do it." / "i act and react, and suddenly i wonder 'where is the boy that i was last year?'... what would he think of me now?" / "mostly, i want to be kind."

fear of insignificance: "i want to try and be terrific, even for an hour, i feel like a time traveller: summer dissolves in my mouth and i can’t remember what it tasted like" / "it terrifies you. that you missed out on something."

without body and mind: "could i just ... let my molecules separate while you keep an eye on the burner? the flame's fickle. here's hoping it doesn't go out." / "i feared a wound not of the body but the soul, an irreconcilable division between myself and the rest of humankind."

guilt as an open wound: "i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, i want to tell you this story without having to be in it." / "the enormity of my desire disgusts me." / "the strength of my desire, the speed with which it flowers, shocks me; i flinch and startle."

anger as someone else: "i began to realise that although the violence was over, i still carried it with me." / "let the current carry the body away. let it sink. let yourself grieve and learn from this: learn to love." / "violence does not always take physical forms."

and anger as all you are: "aside from luck, what has driven your career? rage. i'm fucking angry, man. about everything." / "i know if i had not discovered art, i would have become a criminal." / "he plays very badly, but it stops him from destroying things."

sometimes people can understand you better than yourself: "to be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning." / "i was taught to desire nothing, to swallow other people's misery, and to eat my own bitterness."

a study in shame: "mother please believe me, ... i'm ashamed of the things i've been put through, i'm ashamed of the person i am." / "another morning and i wake with the thirst for the goodness i do not have." / "the horror of myself, and the meanness of myself.” / "isn't all that rage so ugly? and isn't it mine, still? good god, isn't it mine?"

you don't look to the past but drown through it: "when you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, ‘i want to go home.’ but then you come home, and of course it’s not the same." / "time passes, memory fades, adujusts, conforms to what we think we remember." / "it eats and tears away at me."

mother and son and the complexities that brings: "mother, i have pasts inside me i did not bury properly." / "i am a reflection of my mother's secret poetry as well as her hidden angers." / "i am my mother's child, and it terrifies me."

the ghost of who you were: "you are twenty-one and you know there are too many things out here. you're so afraid of becoming a ghost, but you are more afrai of what will happen if you don't." / "yes, i believe in ghosts, but we create them. we haunt ourselves."

#introspection. #listen................ i WILL slap any poetry i can to baku becos i have to #im legally binded #nah jk but in all honesty baku is like. fuckin hard to write/decipher i am in awe of ppl who've been writing him for a while #hes super complex and for a pea brain like me its difficult to fully grasp all the small nuances he has #esp becos hes super pivotal to the plot but his state of mind/etc. arent rly a focus esp as the manga went on #like in the earlier chaps all m.ight makes several notes about his instability but :/ then thats it #which is a real shame considering he doesnt just magically become a good person #hes still done awful things and has no idea how to fix any of it except literally fucking dying for izu apparently #ill probably add/edit/change this over the course of my writing but its a good foundation i think

[ellecdc]

HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3

feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader

CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing

Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.

He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.

He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense. 

He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.

He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.

What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.

Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?

“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).

“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information. 

“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”

Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold. 

The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”

McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor. 

“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically. 

“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.

“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.

“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.

“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.

You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching. 

“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”

Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.

“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.

“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.

You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.

“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.

“Anytime angel, truly.” 

James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.

You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.

“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down. 

“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus. 

“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.

“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”

Remus wasn’t so sure.

You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day. 

A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.

James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.

Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.

He just wanted this day to be over.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion. 

“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.

“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape. 

Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.

Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.

“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.

“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.

You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”

“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.

“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.

“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.

“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.

“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.

“You insolent little bitch.”

“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred. 

“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense. 

“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”

The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.

The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.  

#ask elle #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly marauders x you #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #poly!marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #slytherin!reader #ellecdc fics

[fandomsandfeminism]

The Boy and the Heron- thoughts

So, I've talked about how I feel like one of the big themes is impermanence, that change is inevitable, and that change includes loss.

I'm trying to work out how the ideas of harm interplay with that. This idea that harm too is inevitable.

The place this feels the most obvious is the pelicans. They eat the warawara, but they must. They are starving. Due to circumstance, they must do harm to survive and Mahito gives the pelican a proper burial. (There's a connection here to the war, I think. That the situation is awful, but the actors in it are not evil?)

Hime saves the warawara but must burn some of them to save any of them. The harm serves a greater good. (A connection again, perhaps, to the war?)

Mahito attacks the Heron, again and again. And the heron in return ridicules and antagonizes Mahito, yet they learn to work together. To be friends. Even when they are still taking shots at each other. (I love when Mahito makes the plug for his beak, the Heron is immediately an asshole again....but then the plug is bothering him, so Mahito fixes it.)

Kiriko has to kill and gut the giant fish, but does so to feed the warawara and the phantoms. The phantoms cannot kill, cannot harm, and so cannot feed themselves.

Mahito comes across as a very stoic young man a lot, especially early in the movie. Still, its clear that he's unhappy with his father marrying his aunt; it harms him. (The scene where he waits on the stairs for his father to come home and sees them kissing? Oof my heart.) Yet he still tries to be respectful to Natsuko, to save her, and eventually to accept her. (Even when she, in her own pain and grief, lashes out and tells Mahito that she hates him. He doesn't hold it against her. They hurt each other, but still become a family.)

Mahito harms *himself*- (self harm for losing the fight at school? A way to bring his fathers attention back on him? His motivations are never entirely clear, I think. He may not even know himself. Grief can be like that.) he externalizes the chaos and the pain he feels against himself, but the scar it leaves behind isn't a sign of shame.

The Tower Master has tried to make a world without conflict or malice, but has failed. The world changed from his intent, of course all things change, and Mahito tells him that he would rather live in the real, chaotic, harmful world than try in vain to create a world without harm or malice. Avoiding all harm is not a realistic or honorable pursuit.

Harm, like loss, like change, is inevitable. Sometimes it is done with malice, sometimes it is done out of necessity, sometimes by accident. But the harm is ALSO impermanent, something that can pass, not inherently an evil, but part of being in the world.

#the boy and the heron

[insecure-snek]

I feel like this is probably an unpopular opinion (that’s why I’m posting here and not on twitter) but I just wanna know if anyone else feels this way.

Obviously, I think Wilbur is the one Shelby is talking about, and as someone who was also abused, I feel stronger hearing her story. I hope she’s able to find peace soon.

Maybe I’m just an overly optimistic person, but I think Wilbur needs help. A lot of it. And I think, probably not a popular idea, that even though he’s a piece of shit in this situation, that he deserves it.

I’m an overly trusting person by nature. Obviously I wasn’t there when any of this happened. I am just a stranger on the internet. I don’t know what went on, I didn’t see anything happen. However, I think I want Wilbur to get better and I think he can.

He needs to be deplatformed. At least until he has PUBLICLY apologized to Shelby, and is showing to his friends (not us, the audience, not only Shelby, EVERYONE HE KNOWS PERSONALLY) that he is making an effort to never treat another person like that again. But I think, and please don’t come with your pitchforks for me, the person Wilbur abuses the most is himself.

He clearly has other problems that are not making him a good person. Mental health is not a excuse for poor behavior. However, it is an explanation. Your mental health issues and trauma are not your fault, however, managing both those things are unfortunately YOUR responsibility. They are HIS Responsibility to fix and manage, not Shelby’s, not Phil’s, not James, NO ONE BUT HIM.

Call me stupid, or crazy, or whatever, but I firmly believe in the idea of (almost) every human being capable of change. I have siblings who used to treat me terribly, who are much older than me, and I was hurt by them. But as I grew, I saw them realize just how terrible they treated me. They changed their behavior, and apologized to me many many times. They showed me people can wake up and change their lives around. And, whether or not Wilbur comes back to content creation, I hope he gets the help he so clearly needs.

Shelby owes him nothing. His fan base owes him nothing. His friends owe him nothing. Wilbur owes them everything. Shelby deserves to hold back her forgiveness when it so clearly isn’t deserved. She should never forgive him if she doesn’t want to. That’s her right.

Maybe I believe in people too much. But I truly hope he changes. Not only for his friends, family, and loved ones, but for his own sake. He’s going to end up dead if he continues this way, and I believe no one deserves to die. (I’m not even for the death penalty. Let them sit and suffer forever).

Anyway, get some rest all, drink some water, and remember that the world becoming a better place starts with you. Treat people the way you wanna be treated. 💕

Update: Wilbur’s response was absolutely awful, no surprise there. As someone else who responded said, abusers often don’t think of themselves as such. I still hope he gets help. Props to ranboo and all the others standing up to him. I hope this wakes him the fuck up. Until further notice, please stop supporting him. Unfollow him, un add his music, whatever you can to get him to deeply regret this shit he’s done. Those were his actions. These are the consequences.

#wilbur soot #twitter

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

#rp sentence meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #sentence starters #text message prompts

[foulwaterss]

Hey hun! Here come a request! Headcanons about Sukuna’s possessive/protective side when his s/o gets accidentally hurt during a battle!! Thank you ❤️

Warnings: Slight mentions of injury/blood, hurt, comfort, fluff, angst, Sukuna being our emotionally constipated/complicated king ♡

AU: Where Sukuna and the reader are in a romantic relationship, they live together in their shared apartment, and they're overall happy together, trying to live peaceful lives. The reader has no specific gender.

Protective!Sukuna, who always pretends and tries his hardest not to care or show anything when it comes to his feelings, as he finds small things like that insignificant and a sign of weakness. But when you come to the front door of your shared apartment after a confrontation with a cursed spirit far more stronger and superior to you, leaving you with a deep gash on the side of your arm and many scrapes and bruises along your tiny frame, he can't help but let the strong wall he had built to barricade his feelings crumble down and immediately rush to your aid.

Protective!Sukuna, whose eyes and whole expression will soften ever so slightly as he lays you down on his couch without a word, shushing you gently as you occasionally whine out from the pain of your wounds, getting up to grab a first aid kit, some water, bandages, oh- and his sweater to lay under your head for some extra support.

Protective!Sukuna, who will gently clean your wounds, holding your arm where most of the damage was, keeping it still while he washed it so it didn't get infected. The feeling of the liquid he used to clean you up on your raw and exposed skin hurt like hell, it burned beyond any amount of pain you had ever experienced, he would simply continue cleansing and patching you up with a concerned and intense look, carefully wrapping your arm up with white bandages.

Protective!Sukuna, who will (as soon as he's done fixing you back up) immediately move to kneel beside you on the couch, carefully cupping the side of your face with his hand, searching your eyes with concern before finally speaking.

"Tell me, how did this happen?" He spoke calmly and quietly, using his other hand to move some stray pieces of hair from your eyes.

Sukuna would sit there beside you and listen carefully as you explained what had happened, and your whole interaction with the cursed spirit. It made him feel a visceral rage on the inside, hearing you describe the cursed spirit in detail, and what it had done to you. He wished he could've been there to destroy the creature that would dare to stand in the way of the one person he cared about in this disgusting, rotten world.

Protective!Sukuna, who will continue to stroke your hair gently as you start to drift off, feeling exhausted from today's events. But before falling into a deep sleep, you spoke in a quiet and small voice.

"Thank you, Sukuna. I love you." You utter a small smile.

Sukuna doesn't respond, he simply looks down at you with that adoring look in his eyes. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I love you too, (y/n), is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry?" His tone was so gentle, and his words were thoughtful.

When you didn't respond for a good 5 seconds, he looked down at you, realizing you had fallen asleep, softly snoring. He chuckled to himself slightly, finding it cute that you had passed out from your sheer exhaustion, slowly pulling a blanket over your body, then planting a kiss on your cheek and forehead.

"Rest well, my love." He said before turning the lights off with a small smile, disappearing into the kitchen to prepare your favorite dish for when you woke up, knowing very well that you'd be hungry.

♡♡♡

Notes: Hey anon! I love this idea so much, thank you so much for submitting this request! This is my first time writing a request from someone, so I hope it's not too awful 😭. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it! :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #angst #fluff #comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #fanfic #headcanon

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me: Tea For Two Deleted Scene

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (she/her, “Sarge”, British, backstory)

Category: coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Your lieutenant joins you for a cup of tea.

Warnings: tension, banter, flirting, mention of dead hamster, mask is off, domestic Ghost (he sits and has tea), Ghost doing normal things (he sits and has tea), British terminology/slang

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME!! 🥳🥳 I cannot believe I started it so long ago, it’s crazy. This is for everyone who has read, enjoyed and supported me along the way. This takes places directly after the first chapter.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

The door of your flat creaked open, accompanied by the awful sound of your keys falling out of the lock and crashing to the floor uncermoniously. You winced at the sound but said nothing, sticking your foot out to prevent the door from slamming closed again right onto your face. You didn’t need a broken nose right now. The hinges were loose but you couldn't be bothered to tell your landlord, or fix it yourself, since you weren't even living there most of the time.

You stepped into your flat quickly, ushering your lieutenant in behind you. "Welcome to my humble abode." 

Ghost went to close the door behind him but stopped when it just swung shut by its own accord.

"Very humble." You re-iterated. It wasn't the Ritz, that was for sure.

He made no comment on the state of the door, despite clearly having some thoughts if the slight frown on his face was any indication.

"You live alone?" He asked, taking a nice long look around at your flat. You wondered if he was judging the trinkets scattered all over the place and the lack of real decor.

You nodded, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and hanging it over the back of a chair. "Yeah. Used to have a hamster but he died a few months back." 

You missed Señor Duncan.

He blinked at you slowly and said nothing so you rushed off into the kitchen with your bags clasped tightly in your hands to make the tea and avoid further awkward conversation. You tried desperately to come up with a new topic to talk about when you got back to him.

But he had other ideas. As you turned to get the milk out of the fridge, Ghost was stood in your doorway watching you.

"You can sit down, lieutenant." You assured him, not needing him hovering as you made the two cups of tea. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He took a moment to answer. "Here to make sure you make my tea right."

You scoffed. "I know how you take it, sir."

The double meaning of that statement hung in the air between you for a few seconds.

"I've seen you make tea about a million times on base so..." The clarification probably didn't help you. In fact, it made the previous sentence even more glaring.

"Okay." He nodded. "I trust you."

The way he said it wasn't convincing.

The kettle clicked behind you but you ignored it.

"Got any biscuits?"

You shook your head. "Nothing you’ll like, no."

"Hmm." 

"Sorry." Your jaw clenched tight.

"Don't be sorry."

You broke off the staring contest that was happening between you, knowing he'd probably win in the end anyway, and turned around to actually make the two of you a drink.

The thought that this may have been a bad idea plagued you as you watched the teabags drown in the boiling water. You were just trying to be friendly. Maybe friendly with your lieutenant wasn't good. Although, he agreed to come. So some of this was on him.

Ghost was silent behind you but you assumed he was still there. You could feel his gaze burning into the back of your head, the hairs on your neck and arms standing up on end. When you were done, you turned to find him stood a lot closer to you than he had been just a minute or so prior.

His hand was stretched out ready to take the mug from you. "Thank you, sergeant."

"You're welcome, lieutenant." You croaked back at him, unprepared for how close he was. You could smell him, the distance was that small. You begrudgingly admitted to yourself internally that he smelt nice. Of course he did. You avoided looking at how his hands enveloped the cup you'd handed to him. "Umm, living room?"

“Not going to put your things away?” He lazily gestured at the bags sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Oh… it can wait a while.”

He nodded and followed you as you swerved around him, mouthing oh my god to yourself as you walked away. In the lounge, you settled on the sofa and were not surprised in the slightest when he chose to sit in the other chair, his large frame consuming the cushions almost completely. He looked comical.

There was a brief moment of tense silence between you and just as you opened your mouth to say something, say anything, he cut in.

"Want a chocolate digestive?"

Your teeth clicked shut. "Uh, sure!"

Sipping on your tea to hide your face behind the mug at the way-too-upbeat tone of your response, you burnt your tongue on the scalding liquid. Luckily, your lieutenant was too distracted by pulling the pack of biscuits out of the carrier bag at his feet that he didn't take any notice of you.

When he held out the packet to you, you tentatively took one and started nibbling on the edge. You were really unsure of what to do with yourself. Think. Just think of something to say.

"So, what does Lieutenant Simon Riley do for fun when he's on leave?"

Idiot.

"Not this." He grumbled.

"Not what?" Of course he didn't do this, this was the first time this had happened.

"Socialising."

Oh.

"Then why did you agree to come here?" You asked, frowning. Seemed a bit silly to you honestly.

Ghost said nothing, just stared back at you.

So you filled the silence by rambling. "You didn't have to. Just because I asked you to. Don't feel forced or anything. I mean, like, you never listen to me in the field. So why is it different out here? Don't think you have to be polite. I'm a grown woman, I can take no for an answer."

"Christ, you talk a lot."

You frowned. "Sorry."

"Between you and Johnny I don't know how I don't get more headaches."

"Charming." You snapped back despite the pull of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

He continued on. "Without the two of you I'd get some silence once in a while."

"How boring."

"How peaceful."

"Overrated.” You waved your hand in a dismissive motion. “I think a couple of hyper sergeants are a lot more fun."

"If you'd like." He took a mouthful of his tea and you wondered if he was hiding anything behind the cup. A smile, a smirk, just something. Probably not.

You decided to pry. "You never answered my question."

He sighed. "What question?"

"What do you do when you're on leave?"

"What do you imagine I do when I'm on leave, hm?" He evaded the question by shooting back one of his own. Tricky bastard.

You shrugged. "Mope at home all day probably." 

"Mope." He repeated back to you.

"You seem like a moper."

He didn't reply.

"I think it's a fair assessment."

"Based on what?"

You barked out a short laugh. "Based on everything!"

"For all you know I could be the life of the party when on leave." He drained the rest of the tea from his mug in a few steady gulps, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your mouth hung open for a second as you watched.

"You just admitted you don't like to socialise. Or like how loud me and Soap can be. I seriously doubt you're the life of any party." You deadpanned, noticing how your cup was still mostly full.

"Should I take offence to that, sergeant?" He asked, resting his own cup between his knees.

Your eyes flickered down towards it. "Didn't say it was a bad thing necessarily."

"But it can be?"

"If you're boring in general, I guess."

"I see."

Your back straightened in defence. "I'm not calling you boring, sir! In fact, I think you're rather interesting. I was just saying it can be bad if you are always boring. Which you are not."

"This might be my cue to leave, you don't seem so sure." His head tilted to the side. "Very enthusiastic to prove you don't think I'm boring. Too enthusiastic."

"That's just my general demeanour." 

He nodded. "I'm aware."

"Now I feel like I should be insulted."

"And why's that?"

"You seem disgusted."

He repeated your words back to you. "That's just my general demeanour."

So you did the same. "I'm aware."

"Hm, clever." He grunted, glancing down at the empty mug. "I should probably go."

"If you want." You watched him shift in his seat.

His eyes shot back up to meet yours. "Kicking me out, sergeant?"

"No. Just not going to insist that you stay if you want to leave."

He nodded and looked around the room. "You should get another hamster."

What an odd thing to say.

"Why?" You questioned, putting your cup down on the coffee table and gesturing for him to do the same.

"You're a social creature. Could probably use the company."

"A social creature. Gee, thanks." You rolled your eyes at him. "I have friends, y'know?"

"Seen 'em since you've been home?"

"Haven't had the opportunity yet." You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"Mhm." He hummed, not needing to say anything to get his point across.

You didn't even bother responding, what good would it do? You just watched him rise from the seat and pick up his plastic bag of stuff, following him when he started towards the front door.

Neither of you exchanched pleasantries as you opened the door and held it open with your foot, you didn't need to pretend that this was anything less than awkward and slightly odd altogether. There was no oh this was nice we should it again sometime. The exchange was very short.

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No, I don't live too far."

"Okay."

Silence.

Tense silence.

"Goodbye, lieutenant."

"Goodbye, sergeant."

And then he was gone.

A/N: thanks for reading!!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost riley #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley fanfiction #ghost riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 3 #modern warfare 3 #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ej’s fics #ej’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing #sarge and simon #simon and sarge

[footiehoefics]

Change of heart

Sikeee, I'm posting it right now hehe. @trentskinator98 my love has been waiting for this one ever since I made the polls HAHAHA so I'm so excited for you to read it and for everyone else as well! I had this idea on my notes for so long so writing it was so fun! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you have any ideas you are welcome to message me or send me an ask :)! TW: none, Angst/Fluff, 3.5k words

gif: @pernillecfcw

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you were satisfied with how your look had turned out. Light yellow dress, white high heels, hair down, bronzed natural makeup and a little bit of jewelry. You turned around to see your boyfriend struggling with his tie, again. 

“Why are this things so fucking hard to put on?” he mumbled to himself

“Mase, baby, there will come a day where I won’t be able to do your tie so you really have to learn.” you said smiling, walking towards him to help him. 

“Stop, don't say that, I am not thinking about your death right when we are about to go to a wedding.” he said, giving up with the black tie. 

“Oh my God,” you laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that weirdo, I just mean maybe one day I won’t be with you getting ready.” you said, grabbing the tie getting closer to him. 

Your face was almost touching his, your arms wrapped around his shoulder trying to fix his tie situation with the stubborn collar he had. “You look beautiful by the way.” Mason said, making you blush. “You still blush at my compliments?” he asked you, smiling. “Of course I do.” you said now looking at him and giving him a peck. “And you…” you said, giving him another kiss, “look  very handsome. You need to wear a suit more.” He smiled at you, kissing you again. He brushed his tongue over your bottom lip asking for access but you knew if it got heated you wouldn't leave in 5 minutes. “Mmm Mase no” you mumbled in between his kisses. “Why not?” “Because we have to leave now, the wedding is in 30 minutes.” You detach yourself from him, smirking at yourself at how horny your boyfriend was. 

You grabbed your purse and walked down stairs to head out. You were excited about the wedding. One of yours and Mason’s friend was getting married to his highschool sweetheart who you both knew very well. Marc, your friend, actually introduced you both 6 months ago. It had been 4 months of heaven with Mason. It had its bumps since his football career was not great towards the end of the season, but you tried to be there for him while giving him his space and he appreciated it more than anything. 

Pulling up to the venue, you saw Ben, Kai and Sophia waiting for you two at the entrance. 

“Wooww you look insane.” you said to Sophia while getting out of the car. “Thank you.” Ben replied, smiling. “Not you Ben.” You told him, rolling your eyes playfully at him. 

Both of you greeted everyone with hugs and made your way into the wedding ceremony. Hand in hand, you both were in awe of the venue and the decoration. It looked beautiful. It was an outdoor ceremony during the afternoon with a perfect view of the sunset. The party however, would be inside one of the ballrooms of the very fancy hotel  which you were now dying to see. 

“This is so beautiful, wow.” you said in awe of everything. One of the servers came towards all of you and offered drinks which you gladly accepted. 

“Kai, we really need to start looking for wedding venues.” Sophia said, admiring the whole place. You laughed at her comment and Kai just rolled his eyes. 

“When are you planning on doing the wedding?” Mason asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Next summer, after the season is done-” Kai tried saying when Sophia interrupted him “Which means I will do all the wedding preparations while he is playing football every 3 days.” Both you and Mason laughed at her comment. 

“Soph, are you going to be like a bridezilla?” Mason asked giggling. “Oh stop, I hope for my sake not.” Kai replied 

You were engrossed in their conversation and the jokes when you noticed someone entering the venue. 

You couldn’t miss him, and it was not a surprise to you he was here. After all, he and Marc were friends. Joe, your ex boyfriend started greeting people once he entered. You gulped nervously. Having your boyfriend and your ex boyfriend at the same wedding was not ideal.

Joe and you had broken up almost a year and half ago. It wasn’t a quick relationship, you were with him for 4 years. He had proposed to you even. He had invited his whole family, leaving your family completely out of it, and proposed on a lake. When he proposed you were shocked. You were not expecting it at all, due to the fact that he had cheated on you a month prior. He did not know you knew he had cheated, so the audacity of him to propose after cheating made your blood boil. You found out about his infidelity 3 days before he proposed. You of course rejected his proposal, leaving him in a state of shock. 

You loved him, of course you did. However, there was never a point in your relationship where you thought you would marry him. He was not the dream man you always thought you’d end up with. To be completely honest, you had stayed with him for so long because it felt easy. It scared you leaving him after building a life with him and finding someone new, even though you knew you needed someone else. 

When you found out about him cheating, it hurt, but not nearly as much as you had thought. Maybe because you could finally use that as an excuse to leave him? 

When he started getting on one knee, you immediately knew what he was doing. You wanted to grab his arms and pull him up and avoid the embarrassment. It pissed you off. He took that away from you. Your marriage proposal was supposed to be one of the best moments of your life, and he took away that moment from you. 

Long story short, you said no and explained why. He turned white as a ghost and didn't even try to deny it. You spent almost 30 minutes figuring out what to do with his family who were in the cabin waiting to surprise you both. You decided to go to a hotel and stay away from him. To this day you don't know what he said to his family. The next day you went to the cabin, grabbed your things and left him. 

Mason knew all of this. He knew he had proposed, how he cheated on you and everything shitty he did to you during your relationship. One of the first dates with Mason was a golf date and dinner at a pub. You stayed in that pub until 3 am talking about everything. You opened up so much to him. Ever since that day you both knew you were it, although you had never said it to each other. 

As soon as you saw him, you got visibly nervous. You didn't even want to say hi to him. You also didn't want Mason to talk to him. Joe loved to rile people up, you knew if Joe said anything to Mason, he would get pissed and a scene would happen. You didn't want the wedding to become a fighting pit. Today was not about you, Joe or Mason. It was about the love of your friends.

Mason snapped you out of your thoughts by handing you another drink. “You okay?” he asked, grabbing your hand and rubbing it with his thumb. “Yea I’m fine…should we go sit down?” you asked him, smiling. He nodded his head, but he knew you like the back of his hand, and he could tell something was bothering you. 

—-

The ceremony was beautiful. Vows always made you tear up, resulting in Mason making fun of you and Sophia lending you powder to fix your make up. 

The bride and the groom made their exit and you were all guided to the party. Outside looked like a painting with the sunset in the background, but inside it looked like you were in a Palace. It was beautiful, there was a big bar, a dance floor, the buffet filled with delicious food and all the tables beautifully decorated with flowers. 

You were seated between Mason and Sophia. Your table was great, it was a mix of Mason’s friends and yours. You were having a really lovely night you had forgotten Joe was there. 

That was until everyone got up to dance.  All of you had a bit to drink so everyone at that point was tipsy including you both. You left the dance floor to go to the bar and grab more drinks for everyone. 

You were about to thank the waiter when you felt a cold hand on your shoulder making you turn around. 

“Hello stranger.” Joe said, smirking. You saw his piercing blue eyes stare at you, you didn’t know what to say. 

“Long time no see right?” He asked kind of hugging you sideways. You didn’t want to be rude so just smiled and lightly hugged him back.

“Yea long time no see.” you took a sip of your drink, not sure what else to say. I mean, there was nothing to say really. 

“Who are you here with?” Joe asked you sitting down on the stool in front of him 

“Oh I’m with my boyfriend.” you replied

“That’s right you’re dating Mason right? The football guy? Yea, Marc told me about that.” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Um yea, we’ve been dating for a little while…” you wanted to get out of that conversation. You had no idea how to hold the conversation, and you knew it looked weird. You also didn’t want Mason getting a bad impression of what was happening. 

You started looking everywhere for him, your eyes darting from left to right, trying to avoid Joe’s gaze. 

“You looking for him already? I bored you that quickly?” he asked, laughing. 

“No…I just um…need to give him his drink-” you stuttered but got cut off by someone hugging you from behind.

“Ayoooo guys I’m so happy you’re here!” It was Marc. He looked wasted. You could smell the tequila, and you could see a red stain of wine already on his shirt. 

“I’m so glad you guys are talking! Do we get some shots?” Marc asked, almost yelling in your ear. 

“Oh no thank-” you were about to say. 

“Yes please!” Joe replied laughing at Marc’s state. “What do we want? Tequila? Jagger? Vodka? The lady chooses” 

“Um, just tequila, with lime please.” You replied. You were feeling uncomfortable being there. Marc was now in between you two with one arm over your shoulder and one over his shoulder. 

You took your shot, instantly regretting it. It was really strong. You were about to say goodbye, but you felt a pair of warm hands grab your waist. You turned around, and were relieved to see your boyfriend. 

“Oh hey. I was about to go and give you your drink.” you said smiling trying to get as far away as you could form Joe so they didn’t start talking. You handed Mason his drink and saw he was looking directly at Joe. 

“Well, well Mason!” Joe said enthusiastically. “We finally meet, I’m Joe, your girl’s ex boyfriend.” Joe said, smirking at him. Mason shook his hand with a blank expression on his face. You wanted to go hide in the corner from the awkward tension you felt. 

“Heyyy what about another shot now with Mase!” Marc exclaimed. “Marc, I think you had too many shots already.” Mason said with a tone of concern as he watched his friend stumble towards the bar table. 

“Oh c’mon it’s his wedding, let him enjoy himself.” Joe said, patting Marc in the back. “I would’ve gotten this drunk if we had gotten married.” Joe laughed along with Marc. You were now red in the face. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid. You just laughed awkwardly, trying to not make it awkward but Mason was stone cold serious. 

“Too bad you cheated on her and were a piece of shit…” Mason said, almost mumbling to himself taking a sip of his drink but all of you could hear him clearly. 

Joe stood up from the bar stool, “What did you say?” he said, visibly angry at Mason. 

“I said you are a piece of sh-” “Okay, okay, how about we go back to the table and leave Marc and Joe?” you said getting in between him and Mason. 

“Yea guys c’mon we are having a good ti-” Marc fell off the stool trying to break the situation. “Oh shit.” you tried getting him up, but Joe got a hold of him and took him outside to his now wife. 

Once you saw he was with his wife, you turned around and Mason was not there anymore. You started walking back to the table, and saw he was walking in the same direction as you. 

“Mason!” you tried calling him over the loud music. He didn’t stop at the table, instead he went straight towards the bathrooms. You followed him there and called him out again. “Hey don’t ignore me please” you said grabbing his arm making him stop. 

“What do you want?” he had never used that cold tone with you and you didn’t like it. 

“Babe, I’m sorry about that.” you didn't know how to start, but sorry seems good enough. 

He didn’t answer you. “I mean, what was I supposed to say? I didn’t want to cause a scene-” you tried saying. 

“Oh yea so me shutting up was the solution.” He put his hand in his pocket, and replied with an annoyed expression. 

“What? No. I just…” his response kind of shocked you. You both had never argued before and never had this big of problems. “Mase I just didn’t want this to turn into something more okay? We are at a wedding, Jesus.” 

“Yea whatever, you can go and hang out with him more if you want.” With that he turned around and entered the men’s bathroom leaving you speechless. 

Did you fuck up? Maybe. But the situation made you uncomfortable and you were terrible at handling those types of situations. His comment and reaction upset you, but he had the right to be mad. 

—-

You got back to the table, and it was empty. Everyone was on the dance floor  having a great time. The whole night had been magical and amazing. That was until 20 minutes ago when Joe had approached you. 

“Your boyfriend went missing again?” you heard someone say behind you. You turned your head around to see Joe smirking. 

“Don’t Joe, please.” you said, rolling your eyes and turning your head away from him. He grabbed the chair next to you and sat down. If Mason saw you again with him after what happened he would get more pissed. 

As soon as he sat down, you stood up and started walking away. “Oh c’mon, is your boyfriend gonna have a melt down if he sees you with me?” Joe said, making you stop in your tracks. 

“Listen to me, I don’t want to talk to you okay? I don’t want you to fuck this up for me! I respect him enough to walk away from a bad situation, unlike you with me who had no respect for me whatsoever!” you said angrily. 

Joe was taken back by your response. “You really need to get over it my God…” 

“Joe, I did, I probably wouldn't be dating anyone otherwise you idiot.” you said calming down a bit more. “I got over the fact you cheated on me and had the fucking audacity to propose to me after the fact, you took that away from me, a moment that was supposed to be the best moment ever, you took it away. So please, fuck off, leave me alone, and let me enjoy the night with my boyfriend okay?” Joe looked at you not knowing what to say, so he just left. 

—-

After an hour or so sitting at the empty table, everyone was instructed to sit down and listen to the speeches. Mason came to sit down by your side, this time not holding your hand or placing his hand on your thigh. It was weird being that close to him and not touching him. You knew he was still mad so you gave him space. 

“You okay babe?” you heard Sophia whisper in your ear. 

“Yea I’m good don’t worry.” you sheepishly smiled at her. She knew there was something going on, but didn’t want to ask you right at that moment. Instead she just leaned her head on your shoulder to offer comfort and you leaned your head on hers. 

—-

The speeches were done, and you cried again. Sophia gave you her powder to touch up your make up for the second time that night. 

The DJ started playing slower songs for the bride and groom to have their dance and moment. After two songs, the DJ encouraged everyone to join them and dance.

Mason got up from his chair, you assumed he would go to the bar with Chilly, but instead he held out his hand for you. You were confused as to what he wanted to do. 

“Dance?” he asked, slightly smiling. You smiled back at him, grabbed his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. 

Once you reached the dance floor, he grabbed you by the waist with both hands and you placed both your arms around his shoulder, hiding your face on the crook of his neck. 

Your heart was beating really fast. Should you apologize again or should you let the romantic moment carry on?

“You know I never gave much thought to marriage until I met you?” Mason said, making you look at his brown eyes. 

“Really?” you asked.

“Mhm, I never ever met a girl that made me think “I would want to marry her one day.” 

“So…you want to marry me?” you asked, gently rubbing his neck with your hands. 

“I do, do you?” he asked.

“Of course I do.” you said, whispering it. 

“I always wanted to get married Mase, but I was never with like my dream man.” you said again. 

“Oh so I’m your dream man?” Mason asked, smiling to himself and making you giggle. 

“Yes Mason Mount, you are the man of my dreams.” you said giggling. 

You both stared into each other with a lot of love. 

“You know I love YOU right? No one else, no one else comes close.” you spoke up, resting your forehead on his. 

“And I love you…” he kissed you lovingly. You could hear the soft music playing and the outside noise but in that moment it was you and him. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, I really am. I didn’t know how to-” 

“Shh, stop. I know you are sorry and I know it was that dickhead that wanted to provoke me.” he said, making you laugh. 

“He can be very annoying.” “Pff, he’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I met him for like 5 seconds.” Both you and Mason laughed at his comment. 

You both kept dancing to the song the DJ kept playing, in the same position.

—- 

 Your feet started to hurt, so you decided to go outside and get a bit of rest and fresh air. You sat down near a balcony with the amazing view of the city. 

Mason had given you his jacket since your dress was not made for cold nights. You were sitting on his lap, one arm around your waist and the other intertwined with your on top of your thigh.

“You know… I got addicted to you so easily.” he said, making you look at him. He was still staring at the amazing view in front of him. “I care about you more than you think, I think about you all the time and I appreciate you being by my side this summer when things got hard. I know I can be a pain in the ass when I’m moody but you didn’t care.” he said giggling. Everything he had said, no man or boy had ever said to you in your life. You felt tears building up in your eyes. 

“Mase…” you tilted your head to one side looking at him lovingly, and he hugged you. He knew you were overwhelmed by his love, but you would have it any other way. 

“Weddings make you so soppy.” you said after hugging him tightly. 

“Get used to it because at our wedding, God…” he laughed. 

“I love you so much, more than anything.” you said, cupping his face with your hands. 

“I love you baby.” He kissed you and you kissed him back. 

You still couldn't believe you were dating the man of your dreams and you were going to marry him one day. After Joe, you didn't even know if it was possible. But Mason changed your perspective completely.

No word could describe what you two felt for one another.  

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fic #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #football imagine #football fan fiction

[pengychan]

[Our Flag Means Death] Izzy's Gravy Basket

Summary: Nothing is life is certain but death and taxes - but pirates do not, as a general rule, pay taxes. And when a sea witch is involved, death is not always all that certain either. Characters: Izzy Hands, Calico Jack, Ed Teach, Stede Bonnet. Rating: T  

A/N: Did I hate how Izzy's story ended? Not necessarily. Did I still start writing this from the second I got off work and didn't stop until it was done? You bet.

***

Perched on the makeshift cross marking a freshly-dug grave, a seagull screams and screams and screams.  

It’s been chased away a couple of times, but it keeps coming back to call out. It knows patience, and it knows what needs to be done. The sunset turns to darkness, and then back to morning light; shadows grow longer, heading back to sunset, and yet it remains. Yet it screams and it calls, it calls, it calls.

And usually, when you call out enough times, something will eventually answer.

***

The first thing on Izzy’s mind as it swims in the dark is something along the lines of ‘fucking seagulls’. The second thought is something slightly more complex, but ‘Buttons, shut the fuck up’ makes no sense, because Buttons is not there and he’s just listening to a screaming fucking gull. The third realization is that he has no idea where here is. 

With a groan and far more effort than is reasonable, he opens his eyes. He sees boards above him, sunlight filtering through, and hears the groans of the rolling ship, the soft sound of the waves. And the fucking seagull, of course. He hears nothing else, though. It’s as though the ship is empty.

The fuck are those twats at, and why is he in the damn hidden room again?

With a groan, Izzy sits up from the bed and reaches to press a hand over his side, where the wound… isn’t. He looks down to see undamaged clothing, over undamaged flesh. 

“What the fuck,” he says, but then his gaze falls on his left leg, and it’s the only answer he needs. He stares a few moments before he stands on two feet, his own two feet, and heads out on deck to find out what his own gravy basket looks like.

***

“... And we need to set some money aside for the knives.”

“The knives?”

“For the kids.”

“What kids?”

“There are always kids around inns. They could use knives.”

“We should probably not be giving children knives, Ed.”

“They’re small. How else do they protect themselves?”

“Well, I suppose we could step in for them, don’t you think?”

“Small knives.”

“... We can discuss it further once the inn is up and running, surely.”

To be honest, it’s probably going to be a while before anything is up and running: they have been here just over a day. Enough time to get a good idea of the amount of work needed to fix the shack - it is a lot - and get themselves some dinner in the form of a wild pig they found wandering nearby. They also caught a rabbit, but as Ed has promptly named it Stede Bunnet, Stede - the human one - has reason to suspect it’s not going to turn into food anytime soon. 

Ah, well. The dinner at Mary and Anne’s rather put him off rabbit meat for a while, anyway.

“Right, yes. I’ll just make a note of it so we don’t forget--” Ed trails off when yet more squawking reaches their ears. Sure enough, it’s that seagull again. It seems to have taken a liking to the cross marking Izzy’s grave, and it’s been making enough ruckus to wake the dead.

Well… unfortunately, not really enough to raise the dead. But it is an awful lot of noise, and Ed hates it. He refused to shoot it - “any seagull could be Buttons now,” he said - but he still very much wants it off the grave. He resorts to firing a shot in the air and yell at the bird to have some fucking respect, and that gets it to fly off, at least. 

For a short time.

***

The thirty-gun sloop is empty, sailing without wind beneath a gray sky, cutting a wound through senselessly choppy water with no effort. It’s been a long time since Izzy laid eyes on this ship, but he recognizes it all the same. It is not the Revenge. It’s--

“Welcome back on the Ranger, Izzy. Betcha didn’t miss it.”

Ah. Him. 

“... I sure fucking didn’t.”

“Missed me, though, didya?”

“No. You’re still a cunt, Rackham.”

“Rude thing to say to the guy you got killed. Brits got you too, huh? Shoulda moved out of the way, both of us.”

Izzy looks up, and Calico Jack grins down at him, leaning on the wheel. He would do that long ago, too, when they were much younger and still sailed under Hornigold. Little more than kids, him and Edward, and himself barely any older. 

“But admit it, better me than old Ben, who’s gotta be roasting in Hell somewhere for turning pirate hunter.” Jack grins, and holds up his burnt arm. The punishment for grabbing more rations than he should have once, and it had taken forever to heal. It never did, not entirely, because the skin pulled like a too tight sleeve and Jack could never quite use that arm the way he once did. 

“That’s a fucking low bar to step over,” Izzy comments, and Jack shrugs. 

“Yeah, it is. Old bastard. You took the brunt of it a lot, too. Never complained. Word was you were into it.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah, I can’t. This ain’t my gravy basket, mate. It’s yours.”

“Then why are you here, Rackham?”

“Hell do I know? It’s your gravy basket. I’m as confused as you are. Didn’t think ya liked me that much.”

Izzy chooses to ignore that last statement. “So, I’m dead.”

“Oh, fuck off, right back at ya. You know what the gravy basket is.”

“Old wives’ tales,” Izzy mutters. He leans against the railing, looking down at the sea. Somewhere, a seagull is still screaming. “... Always did hate this fucking ship.”

“Oh? I liked it well enough.” There was no time for Rackham to come down the steps to stand next to him, nor any noise to indicate he did, but now he’s standing next to him, leaning on the same railing. “Taught me all I know,” he adds, and Izzy’s gaze falls on the scarred arm. “I named my own brigantine after it, ya know? After swiping it from Charlie Vane. Man was a coward, anyway.”

“Not rushing to fight a fully armed man-of-war is common sense.”

“Aw, what a wet blanket you are. We’d have won, there were just a bunch of frog eaters on board,” Rackham says, and shrugs. “And what the hell do we need common sense for? Good old Bart had it right. A merry life, and a short one. Though I’m not sure yours was all that merry, Izzy.”

Above, all around, the seagull screams. Not a single bird to be seen anywhere, yet the cries keep coming and coming and coming. Izzy ceases his useless search of the sky, and turns to Rackham. “Was yours?”

“Short, or merry?”

“You’re too stupid to play coy. Just fucking answer.”

A pause, and the ever-present grin fades beneath the mustache. For a moment Izzy sees it again, a boy struggling to keep his lips locked in a smile as he dipped a red and raw arm into saltwater to try disinfecting it. 

“A man’s got to lie to himself sometimes. Ya know.”

“... Yeah. I know.”

“Speakin’ of lies. You really wanna go, or were you tryin’ to make Eddie feel better?”

“What does it matter?”

“In the gravy basket? Fucking everything.” A pause, then Rackham shrugs. “Well, maybe going is the right call, and you dodged a bullet.”

“Oh, fuck of--”

“Hah!” A pat on his back, far too powerful to be really friendly, and then a vise-like grip around his shoulders. “Not the literal one, dumbass. I mean, you can avoid turnin’ into one of… whatever kind of sissies Eddie runs with these days.”

Since opening his eyes again from the darkness, Izzy has felt somewhat numb; now, suddenly, something is awake again, gnashing teeth and sharpened knives. “It’s a good crew.”

“Good for what, target practice? Oh, I betcha the British are not done with them. Won’t last a week without you or Eddie.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy snarls, and breaks away. “You don’t know them.”

“Whoa, whoa, little guy!” Rackham laughs, holding up his hands. “Holy shit, don’t tell me they already rubbed off ya!”

Izzy opens his mouth, but before the perhaps not incredibly original ‘fuck off’ leaves his mouth, Calico Jack has grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. He grins again, wide, with clenched teeth. 

“Ooh shit, they did. I can smell perfume on you. Got all dolled up, didn’t you?”

“I--” Izzy tries to answer, but insults die in his throat and his tongue is heavy as lead. Something squirms in his stomach, shame black as coal. Rackham’s finger flicks at the ring tied around his neck. 

“Turned ya into their songbird, huh? Little Izzy, listenin’ in to his momma’s songs but never daring to join in. Cozy up to them to listen to bedtime stories, too, didya?”

A flash of anger, burning away some of the coal, and he slaps Rackham’s hand off the ring. “You don’t know a thing, you fucking cunt.”

“I know you’re better off dead than-- that. Lettin’ the whiny brat kill you was the best call. You know that. Said so yourself, no? You wanna go.”

“Shut up.”

“Not that they’ll outlive you by much. Maybe they’ll ask you to sing some more while you feed the fish all togeth--”

Izzy’s sword is out the next moment, cutting through the air with swift, deadly ease. But Calico Jack is fast, too - you don’t become a feared captain by just fucking around with a whip - and his own sword rises up to meet it. They clang, and the seagull screams again. 

The man before him laughs, and looks him in the eye. Izzy meets his gaze, and it’s both very familiar and very, very wrong. He clenches his jaw, staring into his own eyes. 

“You’re not John Rackham.”

Not-John-Rackham’s grin widens. “Of course I’m not fucking Calico Jack, dumbass. It’s your gravy basket. He’s feedin’ the crabs at the bottom of the ocean and so will you. ”

He moves fast, disengaging and then feinting to the left, before swinging his sword the other way. But it’s a move Izzy knows well because he fucking practiced it and used it time and time again. The way he holds his sword, the way he moves, down to the fucking footwork, it’s all his. He’s always been really damn good - and this version of him fights like he used to in his fucking prime.

The swords clang, he’s pushed further and further to the end of the deck towards the railing, and the seagull screams. His opponent laughs.

“You scared, Izzy? Didn’t ya say you wanna go? It’s for the best. You know it, so just let go.”

“Fuck off!”

He brings up the sword to strike, he sees a good chance, but something is suddenly opening up in his side and it’s bleeding agony. He screams, the sword falling from his hand, and he stumbles back. He tries to regain his footing and he cannot, because his leg is gone and there’s nothing beneath his left knee. His back hits the railing, and he almost goes over; a hand catches his collar before he can, and the part of him behind Calico Jack’s face sneers. 

“You’re outta time, Izzy boy. So answer me a simple question, will ya?”

“F-fuck o--”

“If they were so great, wouldn't they be worth stayin’ alive for?”

Israel Hands opens his mouth, but he has no time to say a thing. A push and he’s falling through the air, into the water, and it’s so so cold. Suddenly there is nothing but that, cold and silence, the sun above and sharks below, his blood tinging the water red.

No. No. Not like this. 

He swims up, or tries to. His left side is unending pain, he’s missing a leg and air is running out, but still he swims. He hears it again, distorted by water but unmistakable - the insistent screaming of a seagull. 

Izzy screams, too, and his hand breaks through the surface just one moment before he blacks out.

***

Stede truly, honestly, did not mean to scare Ed out of his wits. Nor he planned to almost die from a heart attack. All he wanted to do, when he spotted the seagull screaming frantically atop Izzy’s grave again, was to shoo it away. He worried that it might grab the ring and fly off with it, and Ed was having a hard enough time dealing with what happened without losing that keepsake, too. 

Maybe leaving it there, nice and sentimental as it was, was a bad idea. Maybe he should bring it inside, and then they could decide what to do. It was not a bad idea, he would insist later.

Only that right now, absolutely nothing goes as planned. He doesn’t even get to shoo away the seagull, who gives one last squawk before flying off on its own accord. Stede looks up at it, hands on his hips. 

“And don’t come back!” he yells, before looking down to see if the ring is still where they left it.

It is.

And beneath it there is also a gloved hand, emerging from the dirt, fingers clenching on air. This time the scream that rings out isn’t a seagull’s, and it’s loud enough to make Edward Teach, all the way down the beach, nearly jump out of his skin.

Stede Bonnet didn't mean to faint, either, but he does anyway.

***

“Really glad-- you twats-- don’t know how to dig six whole feet down.”

“Easy now, Izzy, don’t talk. No, come to think of it, keep talking. I like it. Say something else.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. Stede, help me…”

“Oh my God, we buried a man alive!”

“... Yeah, I think at least someone here should learn how to check for a pulse. I don’t think Roach has even been to medical school.”

That’s not what happened, I was dead, Izzy thinks, but he finds that’s not a conversation he wants to start right now. He’s taken inside a shack of some kind, laid on surprisingly clean bedding. When clothing is peeled off carefully to expose the wound, he doesn’t struggle. 

“We’ll give it a good clean, yes?” Stede Bonnet is saying, somewhere on his left. “Oh! And I’ll go fetch your leg. And the ring. But first the wound. I got some alcohol, it’s probably going to sting, but…”

He keeps fretting, with more concern than Izzy ever thought could possibly be warranted for his life, but his attention is taken quickly enough by Ed. He’s wiping his face with a cloth, looking more than a little choked up. “Indestructible little fucker,” he mutters. “There you are. What kind of fuckery was that?”

“The fuckery-- to end all fuckeries. How long…?”

“We buried you almost two days ago.”

“... Heh. Beat Jesus fucking Christ,” Izzy manages, and it takes the last of his strength. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall into unconsciousness, with the utmost certainty that he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. This time, everything is quiet. 

The seagull who’s not a seagull at all has taken its screaming elsewhere.

***

It takes five more days for the Revenge to appear at the horizon.

It’s a complete surprise, because they were supposed to be gone a lot longer; Stede was hoping they would find the inn all nice and done by the time they did, but he figures the surprise they have for them now was a lot better than just the brand new inn. They don’t tell them right away, as they meet them at the beach.

As it turns out, they have a pretty strange tale of their own. 

“So, we were sailing, right? Smooth sailing, mostly. And then this seagull shows up, perches on the ship, and refuses to leave.”

“Yeah, it just squawked, flew off in the opposite direction, turned back, caught up again, yelled some more…”

“Auntie kept saying it was a sea witch.”

“She insisted we followed it.”

“And you don’t say no to Auntie.”

“Oh fuck, no, you really don’t.”

“So, it took us right back here and then went off somewhere over land. We figured we’d--”

“... What happened to the grave?”

Jim’s voice rings out suddenly, incredulous, and causes everyone to stop on their tracks. Ed and Stede didn’t really have the time to tidy it up, so it looks pretty bad, the earth dug up and the cross gone. The crew turns to look at them, eyes wide and horrified, but the answer doesn’t come from either Ed or Stede. They let someone else do the honors.

“What didn’t happen, you mean. Next time you want me to stay down, put a fucking stone slab on top.”

They turn as one, several jaws drop, and then it’s absolute chaos of the best possible kind. Fang and Frenchie get to Izzy first and Fang physically lifts him, pulling him into a bear hug that is probably not great for his still healing wound, and bursts crying. Not the only one, but probably the loudest.

How, everyone asks, and Lucius is the only one to get some kind of answer. 

“I’m not done teaching you to be decent fucking pirates, Twatty,” he says, explaining absolutely nothing, but it ends the line of questioning. When something good happens, something really good, there’s no reason to ask too many questions.

You take it, and you’re happy for it, and you keep moving.

***

“Captain Hands. It has a nice ring to it.”

Standing at the beach as the crew finishes loading extra supplies before rowing back to the Revenge, Izzy hums. “Stupid sentimental of Frenchie, just giving away the job like that.”

“He put it up to vote.”

“And then voted for me.”

“True, a smashing victory. I wasn’t that popular when I came back from the dead,” Ed says, and shrugs. “He’ll make a great first mate. And don’t act like you’re surprised, I know you’re not. I saw you wiping your eye, too.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy huffs, but he’s smiling and Ed smiles back. 

“When you come back with some British heads, you’ll find a proper inn. We’ll give you all a discount. Do you think you can get us some knives, by the way?”

“Knives?”

“Small. For the children.”

Izzy looks at Ed, considers asking, and decides he probably shouldn’t. “... Yeah, I guess we can find some knives for children.”

“Thanks, mate. Take care.”

“You too. And Bonnet.”

Ed turns to look at Bonnet, who’s apparently saying something hilarious if Olu’s reaction is anything to go by, and smiles. 

“We will,” he says. “I reckon we’re gonna be just fine.”

***

When the Revenge sets sail again it’s on calm waters, with the crew working as a well-oiled machine. As a seagull flies over it, calling out just once, the captain looks up from the waves. 

“Fuck off,” he mutters, but he doesn’t mind, not really. He watches the bird turn into a small white dot and disappear, then he breathes in the morning air, and hums quietly in the wind.

Les ennuis, les chagrins, s'effacent  Heureux, heureux à mourir…

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #calico jack #stede bonnet #edward teach #our flag means death spoilers #ofmd s2 #buttons ofmd

[halfagone]

Alright cool, I just wanted to see if you knew enough for this upcoming prompt idea. This can take place in whatever marvel universe you’re most comfortable writing, but basically the prompt is that the avengers witness Danny lifting Thor’s hammer and the resulting shenanigans that occur. What do you think?

Oh I loooooove stories that have the most unexpected of people lifting Thor's Hammer. I am a sucker for "Peter Parker is Worthy" fics UwU

But let me see what I can do here~

---

It had been a joke, a PR stunt more like it. Come meet the Avengers, get an autograph and maybe a picture, and see if you're worthy to lift Thor's hammer.

It had sounded good in theory. Great even! Some of the other Avengers had been reluctant to the other, but once security had been cleared for the event, more had agreed. They agreed on what they could and couldn't talk about, what they were and weren't comfortable doing with fans, and planned accordingly. A job well done, if Tony did say so himself.

It had actually been Clint's idea to do the hammer lift in a separate room. At first Tony had thought that was kind of a mood killer. After all, half the fun was the crowd's anticipation as each person came to the stand. But Clint had pointed out how things could go sideways if it came out that a civilian could lift Mjöllnir. Thor seemed confident that the chances were rather low- the likelihood that someone worthy coming to this event were rather abysmal, after all- but had agreed to the compromise in the end.

I may have to give Clint a pay raise for this, Tony thought dazedly.

Everything had been going so well. The gang was all happy, the fans were happy, Tony could practically already hear Ross grinding his teeth at all the positive attention.

When another teenager walked into the room, Tony hadn't thought anything of it. He was one of the last few stragglers for the event, so most of the Avengers had lingered in this room, happy to hang out as they waited. They'd joked and laughed, even tried to wrap the kid into it. The teen- Danny- was a smart-aleck like the best of them; Tony was never going to let him and Harley meet if he could help it.

As Danny came up to the podium, they cheered him on just like everyone else. Tony himself had leaned back against a table and smiled serenely, feeling confident in the results. It was probably a good thing he hadn't reached for that can of soda because Danny lifted up the hammer without breaking a sweat.

Error 404. TonyStark.exe has stopped working. Please reboot your server.

"What the actual fuck?" Sam muttered, squinting at the kid as if that would suddenly fix the whole clusterfuck of a situation.

"Oh that's a lot lighter than I thought it'd be," Danny commented thoughtfully, gingerly shifting his grip so that he could pose. Wait, no- that wasn't posing. Danny was testing his stance to practice throwing.

"The weight of responsibility won't be," Steve said quietly to himself, gaze hooded and emotions indiscernible.

That didn't stop Tony from turning to the man in pure indignation. "I do not need the commentary from you right now, Capsicle." Steve honest to god rolled his eyes at Tony's remark. They didn't get to bicker about it any more (and no, not like an old married couple! Honestly Lang could take his commentary with his stupid ass out the door!) because Thor approached the boy with a solemn expression.

"I see you are a worthy lad," Thor announced to the room. Danny stared at him with a blank expression. He didn't seem super awed in Thor's presence- hadn't for any of the heroes really- but he still listened with rapt attention. "Those who are worthy carry a heavy load upon their shoulders. With the ability to wield Mjöllnir comes to the ability to rule over Asgard-"

"I'm good, thanks," Danny cut in before Thor could finish with his speech.

"What," Rhodey deadpanned, looking just as surprised as everyone else.

Tony's brain hadn't even got the chance to reboot completely yet and he felt like he'd need another right now.

"I've got better things to do, no offense," Danny replied with a blithe shrug of his shoulders. "I mean, I'm sure it's a great honor. But like... I have finals in a couple weeks? I can barely be trusted with my own sleep schedule, I don't think you want me ruling an entire realm."

"I- Well," Thor tried to recompose himself. He was failing miserably.

"What kind of kid doesn't like being worthy?" Tony scoffed in confusion. When in doubt, be an asshole. That had been Tony's motto for years now and he might be trying to do better, yes, but that didn't make him any less of a bastard.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Natasha giving him a look.

"It's just a lot of responsibility is all. What kind of kid wants that?" Danny shot back in return, innocently cocking his head to the side.

It was honestly kinda endearing.

Tony wanted to violently shake him by the shoulders.

"You're not wrong," Steve remarked with a chuckle, clapping Danny on the shoulder. "Good job, Danny. Very impressive." The kid brightened up, shining so bright that Tony had to squint.

"Can I throw it?" Danny asked excitedly, as he turned sharply back to Thor.

The Asgardian just looked amused at this point, chuckling boisterously. "Why, be my guest." He swept a hand towards a nearby target.

"Whoa, nothing expensive please!" Tony shouted just as Danny threw the hammer with stupidly impressive accuracy. It nailed a nearby post spot on, taking off a cardboard head. Thankfully it was only the Hulk and Bruce wasn't here right now.

Danny stretched his hand and sure enough, the hammer came barreling back. Barreling was a good term to use too, seeing as Danny just about got mowed over when he wasn't prepared for the weight this time around.

While Thor tried to help his new favorite human, Tony was just trying not to tear his hair out.

He was too old for this shit.

#halfagone replies #you know... #i might just post this on ao3 #it was very fun!

[fallinfor-youreyes]

You Took Me By Surprise

His words are not working, his brain just screaming her name on a loop. His entire being just in awe of her. In awe of how long it took him to realize that he wanted Penelope to be his. His. “Don’t marry him.” Or Penelope ends the lessons and Colin finally realizes he can't let her go.

Ao3

Something, Colin thinks, is decidedly off.

He has been known to make mistakes in his past, but usually, he doesn't realize they are wrong until he is thoroughly encompassed in them. Like his unfortunate fling with Mariana, or when he decided to follow some local boys in Greece to a ‘super secret’ hidden cave, or when he was 11 and Anthony and Benedict told him they hid his birthday present in the coat closet on the 3rd floor, only to leave him locked up there for hours.

But recently, he thinks he has been doing a better job. He made it home just in time for Franny's debut. He had surprised his family, started flirting with eligible ladies, started making something of himself among the ton.

The only thing he had slightly messed up was his relationship with Penelope. But he fixed that! They are friends again, possibly closer than ever, and he is useful. To his family, to himself, to Penelope. And in exchange for the lessons, Pen is helping him edit his journals. He has a plan to meet with an editor next month about publishing, and everything is looking up.

Penelope is smiling again, brighter than he has ever seen, and well, seeing her happy made him happy as well.

So why does everything suddenly feel off?

He's not used to feeling so uncertain. It makes him restless.

Colin wants nothing more than to go to Penelope and ask her her opinion, to see if she has any ideas of what he could have done wrong, but...

Ah, the but.

The main reason he cannot go to Penelope is Pen herself.

Pen.

Penelope.

Penelope Featherington.

His friend, his wallflower turned talk of the ton, thanks to his lessons. His... well, his Pen.

Not really his Pen anymore. Never really his anything, if he is honest with himself. Colin likes to think himself an honest man, but the thought of Penelope being just his sister’s friend does not sit right with him.

Just that afternoon, she found him walking in the park, attempting to plan their next lesson. And she told him she no longer needed his help.

“I think we should end the lessons…. They’ve worked wonderfully….

You've been a great friend.…"

Friend.

Full circle moment really.

She shook his hand and smiled at him, lovely as a the first blossom in spring, and then she walked away.

Away from the lessons, away from their time together, away from him.

And Colin could not think of anything else since. Except for the fact that somehow, along the way, he made a mistake. But he still could not put his finger on exactly what went wrong.

"Oh, how exciting!" Franny plops down onto the couch next to him, stirring him from his thoughts.

"What is?"

Franny slaps his shoulder, rolling her eyes. "Do you ever listen? We've been invited to Lady Danbury's ball."

"Why is that exciting?" Colin asks. They've been invited to so many balls this season, he had lost count.

"Well, I suppose because Lord Debling might finally propose." Lady Bridgerton says, settling into her chair across the room, pouring a new cup of tea. "Are you feeling okay, dear? You've been out of sorts all afternoon. I’ve called for more biscuits.”

Colin waves his mother off. "Fine. Who is he proposing to? Has he been courting you, Fran?"

All of the Bridgerton women in the room laugh at him. Even Eloise, and she is pretending her hardest that she is not listening to any of them.

"No, you idiot," Hyacinth says, throwing part of her own biscuit at him. "Penelope."

"Penelope? Featherington?" Colin sputters. He tries to keep his voice, calm, even, free of any sort of emotion, but something terrible and ugly grows in his chest. The minor off feeling tingling the back of his brain grows into something closely resembling dread.

"Who else? Gosh Colin, you really are out of it." Fran attempts to place a hand on his head as if testing his temperature, but he shoos her away and pushes himself off he couch. He cannot sit still any more. His entire body feels tense, stressed.

He doesn't like feeling this restless. The last time he did, he sailed halfway across the world and disappeared for several months.

"But it's barely halfway through the season? What of her other suitors?"

Everyone stops talking at once, an odd quiet falling over the drawing room.

Violet stares at him, a moment too long, before her face softens. Colin doesn't like that look. He's never liked pity from anyone, especially his mother. "My dear," she says softly, placing her teacup down almost too gently. "While I very much admire and adore Miss. Featherington--"

Eloise scoffs, saying something under her breath that makes Colin wonder once again what happened between his sister and Pen, but he doesn't have the time to think about that right now.

"No matter was my daughters have to think about it" Violet continues, sending Eloise a sharp look that has her sinking further down into the couch and silencing her snide remarks. "As I was saying, I don't think Miss. Featherington has any other suitors. And Lord Debling is everything one could wish for in husband."

"But we'll never see her again!"

The little feeling in Colin’s brain lights up like a candle, as if proud that he finally figured some part of the issue out.

"Good riddance," Eloise scoffs, again, and it takes everything in Colin to not run over and push her out of her seat like he used to do when they were kids.

Violet takes Colin's hand, and for just a second, the world falls into a more peaceful state. His mother will know how to fix this. She has always fixed everything.

"Dearest, I think this is a fine match for Penelope. I know you are good friends. You should want what is best for her."

The ugly feeling rears up again, larger and more terrible than before.

He's jealous.

Being a third son in a family of eight, Colin learned early on that jealousy was not something he wanted to participate in. He became the easy-going one, the charming one.

Jealousy is not something he is used to. Being jealous over Penelope Featherington, well, that is just something he never saw coming.

Violet squeezes his hand, once again bringing him out of his thoughts. "Colin. This was always going to happen, eventually.”

He kisses his mother's hand and then let's her go. Sometimes, a mother cannot fix everything.

Sometimes, he has to fix things himself.

He can fix this. He has to fix this.

How, he doesn't know yet, but, he knows he cannot do it sitting in his mother's drawing room.

"I'll see you later." He says, ignoring all of his surrounding siblings and stalking toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Hyacinth calls to him, and if he knew any better, he would say she sounded delighted.

"Out."

XXX

He needs to walk. His brain is in overdrive, thoughts full of Penelope.

Penelope.

Penelope kissing Debling.

Penelope being married.

Penelope never answering his letters.

Penelope leaving.

PENELOPE.

His body is restless, so he walks.

Colin doesn't have a plan. Or even an idea at this point, but he needs to do something other than just stare at the wall, letting the terrible, off feeling take over his entire being.

So he walks. And walks and walks and walks, not having a destination in mind, or a thought on which turn he should take until he has already taken it.

He walks until the sun starts to set, walks until his legs are tired, walks until he realizes the only thing he can think about, or probably will ever think about again is Penelope.

He's not sure how he didn't realize it before now, but the thought of never seeing Penelope again, of not being able to hear her laugh or see her smile, or send her another letter, or not being able to call her his friend, is just unacceptable. He’s been thinking about her all season, he realizes. Even when he wasn’t thinking about their lessons, his thoughts would turn to her, to the dress she wore to the last ball, to the way she would laugh at his jokes, to how she would find his eyes in the crowd, even when dancing with another man.

He can't just let her go. Which is how he assumes he ends up outside the garden gate of the Featherington's house. He didn't plan to be here. But apparently, this is where his mind decided he should be.

It's dark. Colin knows he should not be here. He had snuck into the garden several times over the past few weeks for lessons, so he knows how to get in. Before he even has a chance to think of the consequences he is marching through the gardens, intent on… well….

That's the part he has not figured out yet.

She told him she no longer needed him. Called him a good friend. Just friend.

Was that not what he had said to her at the beginning of this foolish deal. Friend.

Friendship in marriage was rare, his mother had said, but wonderful.

Friend.

Her hand in his, bare, warm. Her smiling up at him, happiness exuding from her very soul.

Dancing, laughing, talking...

She isn't just his friend.

Penelope is his world.

And now, he's going to lose her because he might have taken too long.

The sounds of the carriages making their way to the balls for the night spurs him into action. Colin's running before he knows exactly what to do, but he has to find her. He has to stop her from going, stop her from marrying someone else, stop her from leaving London forever.

He needs to tell her she isn't just his friend. She's everything he has ever wanted.

Colin knows the way to her room, which is scandalous in itself, but before he can make it to the servants door, a different door opens.

And like a goddess walking out of paining, Penelope is there. Beautiful as ever, her skin glowing in the firelight.

She looks nervous. Wringing her hands and tugging on her dress, and he's moving again, slower this time but still moving, toward her, toward his best friend, toward his Penelope.

But his thoughts are still out of control, his brain and his body having trouble connecting like they should.

She is all he could think about all day, but now that she is here, now that he realizes that he wants her as more than just a friend, he doesn't know what to say.

It is all too new, all too mixed up and he doesn't know how to be eloquent.

He watches her take a steadying breath, one he has seen her take all season every time she enacted one of their lessons in public, and before she turns away from him again, he calls for her.

"Penelope.”

She startles, and within seconds he’s right next to her, close enough he can smell her perfume, close enough he can see the uncertainty in her eyes.

Close enough, that he could kiss her with almost no effort at all.

His eyes drop to her lips, and he can hear the sharp breath she takes.

“Colin what are you doing here?”

He wants to reach for her, but she is still startled, still poised to run at a drop of a pin.

“I- um.” His words are not working, his brain just screaming her name on a loop. His entire being just in awe of her. In awe of how long it took him to realize that he wanted Penelope to be his.

His.

“Don’t marry him.”

Penelope’s body tenses, and tears instantly fill her eyes. “Why not?"

Colin is still struggling with the thoughts and the urge to hold her and the confusion in his own head that he just stares at her, mouth open.

“Why, Colin. Give me on reason why.” Penelope pushes past him, putting distance between them with every step. "Why do I not deserve to be married to a kind man, who will take care of me, who will let me move out of my mother's house, away from the stupid antics of the ton. Just because you do not want to court me, or find me marriageable doesn't mean another man can't." Penelope pushes the tears angrily off her cheeks, and crossed her arms in front of her, closing her off from him.

"I never said i didn't find you marriageable." Colin says, finally finding his words. "And I only said I wasn't courting you, at that time, not that I wouldn't. Fife is bloody idiot, and he saw us sneak away together to confront your cousin. I was trying to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me, Colin. I don't need you."

Her words sting.

He has been thinking of nothing but her all day, hell all season. Colin doesn’t need her to need him.

He would just like her to want him at least half as much as he wants her.

And if she doesn’t, then he needs to know.

He knows it's his fault, that he really has no right to ask for anything from her, but he needs to know. Know that he is not losing her for nothing.

"Do you love him?

Penelope freezes. The tears are still falling down her cheeks, and she look beautiful. He hates that she is crying, but her eyes are glittering in the firelight, and the moon is making her skin glow, and Colin Bridgerton realizes, he wants, no, he needs to kiss Penelope Featherington.

He takes another step closer to her, and she does not back away.

"Tell me, Pen. Do you love him?" Another step. Penelope's breath catches in her throat.

"Because if you tell me you love him, I will turn around right now, and I will watch you marry him, and watch you leave, and I will let you go." Colin swallows, and slowly closes the distance between them, reaching out for her hand. "But, if you do not love him, do not marry him." He takes the final step toward her, until she is close enough that he can see the freckles dotting her nose. "Do not marry him and I promise I will spend everyday for the rest of my life making up for how stupid I have been, Penelope."

Colin lets his fingertips brush against her cheek, and Penelope leans into his hand, eyes fluttering closed, tears stuck like diamonds on her eyelashes.

"And if you still do want to marry him, I have just one request."

Penelope's eyes snap open as his thumb dances over her bottom lip. "Just one kiss. One kiss for me to cherish for the rest of my life, to remind me how utterly daft I have been when it comes to you."

Penelope takes a step closer to him. "What do you mean?"

Colin lets his fingers tangle in her hair, doing his best to be gentle. "You, Penelope Featherington, are my world. The thought of you leaving, and me never being able to see you again has led me to a point of near insanity. I walked all over London, for hours, after I heard that you might be engaged. I walked and tried to clear my head, but all i could think about was you. All I can think about is you. I do not know why it took me so long to realize, Penelope. I had no idea where I was going until I ended up here. Looking for you."

She bites her lip, and it's takes everything in him to not push her against the closest wall and kiss her until she forgets about all other suitors and potential husbands.

"I don't love him. We’ve talked about it. He know I do not love him, and I know that he does not love me, but we could be happy together." She looks away from him, and his entire heart shatters. "I cannot be in this house any longer, Colin, and no one else has even thought to court me, let alone marry me.

"Let me court you. Let me show the entire stupid ton that I want you, Penelope. We can marry before the end of the season, and I will buy us a house, and you can come with me when I want to travel, and-"

She's crying again, but this time she is smiling, and then before he knows what's happening, she pulling him down and her lips are on his.

Colin is kissing Penelope Featherington, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, months, hell, maybe even years, his brain slows down. There is a quiet that fills his soul, a happiness that radiates from the spot where her lips are on his. The feeling that has been hovering over him all day disappears.

Pen.

Penelope.

Penelope Featherington.

His Penelope.

Colin lifts her up and spins them around, and she's laughing, the most wonderful sound in the world.

"Okay," Penelope says, her cheeks flushed, and eyes glittering, this time with happiness. "Okay, I won't marry him."

Colin kisses her again, sneaking his tongue out to taste her, and she's giggling again, pushing him away.

"I still have a ball to go to." Penelope attempts to brush her hair back, but it's come completely undone from his hands. "There's a lot to do, and there's bound to be talk and-"

"I don't care about the talk." Colin says, wrapping his arms around her.

"I know, I know, but it will happen, and I don't want Debling to be hurt by a scandal..."

He kisses her again, because he can, because she is not going to marry Debling, because he woke up in time to realize that what he was looking for has been Penelope all along. She sighs into him letting herself enjoy the kiss this time.

“We’ll figure it out.” Colin says, wrapping a stray piece of her hair around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. “Together.”

"I have loved you since the first moment I saw you, Colin Bridgerton."

"And I am going to make sure you know I love you every day going forward."

Penelope smiles.

And Colin is home.

#bridgerton #polin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #look those last few seconds in the trailer have had me in chokehold

[sasusakucoded]

Haruno Sakura is a timid girl in senior high school. She and Uchiha Sasuke, a popular student, are schoolmates and neighbors. They live in a high-rise condominium and their units are beside each other. They both keep their balcony doors open to get good signal for their mobile phones. Sakura always hears music from Sasuke's unit and figures that he loves listening to music very much.

Sakura: Ah, he's listening to Hisaishi.. That means he's studying.

At first, Sakura had no idea about his music preference especially because she didn't know what he's listening to. She learned how to google the tunes to know their titles. She took note of every single song in his playlists and recreated them for herself.

She learned that he listens to any instrumental song when he's studying. He listens to alternative rock when he works out. He likes reggae or bossa nova when he's cooking or eating.

Ino: *sings loudly*

Sakura: *whispers* Ino, lower your voice..

Ino: Why? We're alone anyway.

Sakura: S-Sasuke-kun is studying.

Ino: How did you know? Are you two talking now?

Sakura: No.. He's— He's listening to Irlandaise.. I'm sure he's studying.

Ino: Irlandaise?

Sakura: Yeah.. You see, when he listens to classics, he's most likely studying.. So, please let's try to be quiet.

Ino: Or maybe let's just close your balcony door?

Sakura: B-But I want to hear his music.

Ino: Ah, you still like him. I thought you've moved on from middle school!

Sakura: Ino, quiet!!

Ino: *laughs* Tell me, did you move here because of him?

Sakura: No!! I came here first.. I was also surprised that he lives next door.

Ino: Have you ever talked to him?

Sakura: Yeah.. Whenever we see each other.. But the first time he taled to me was when he asked if he could keep his door open when he plays music.

Ino: Oh, speaking of music.. It stopped..

Sakura: *whispers* He's changing his playlist..

Ino: What does that mean?

Sakura: *hears another song* That means he's done studying.. He's chilling now..

Ino: Wow! You really know him just by listening to his playlist!

Sakura: Yeah!

Ino: Anyway, I have to go Sakura! It's getting late. See you at school!

Sakura: Okay! I'll just fix my shelf to kill time.

Ino: Bye! *gathers her things and leaves*

Sakura: *organizes the books that she has read* Hmm. They take up so much space here. I must put them somwehere else. *uses the stool to get the box from the top shelf; slips and falls* Aw! Aw!

Sasuke: *hears screaming; rushes to Sakura's unit and knocks* Haruno-san! Haruno-san! *opens the door and sees her on the floor*

Sakura: Uchiha-san—

Sasuke: Sorry, your door is not locked so I went in.. Are you okay? *helps her*

Sakura: Y-Yeah.. My friend probably forgot to lock the door..

Sasuke: I see.. *hears the music from his unit* I'm sorry! I— I didn't know it's that loud.

Sakura: It's okay.. *almost whispering* I like your music..

Sasuke: No.. That's so insensitive of me..

Sakura: I told you, it's okay. *smiles*

Sasuke: How about this.. You send me your playlist then I'll play that for an entire week.

Sakura: A-Are you sure?

Sasuke: Yeah.. Let's blast your music next time.

Sakura: Okay.. Let me send it to you later..

Sasuke: Your phone?

Sakura: Hm?

Sasuke: I'll write my number.

Sakura: *panics because she has his number already* Um, I— my phone—

Sasuke: Is it charging?

Sakura: Y-Yes!

Sasuke: I'll add you on chat then.. I'll go back now.. See you around! Looking forward to the playlist. *leaves*

Sakura: Yeah. *blushes*

---

Sakura carefully curates a playlist for Sasuke and sends the link to him. She's nervous and excited.

Sakura: It's just a playlist, Sakura. Why are you so giddy and scared?

She waits for him to play the songs from the playlist but all she hears is random tunes.

Sakura: Didn't he like the playlist that I made? Why is he not playing it?

They bump into each other at school multiple times. They talk about random topics but never about the playlist that she made. It makes her wonder but she brushes it off because they talk about various subjects anyway.

One time, she sees him at the elevator..

Sasuke: Hey, Haruno-san!

Sakura: *bows* Uchiha-san.. I haven't asked you.. D-Did you like the playlist that I made?

Sasuke: Yeah. There are some songs that I like..

Sakura: /thinks/ So there are songs that he doesn't like..

Sasuke: Do you hear it in your unit? I play it before I go to sleep, like what you suggested.

Sakura: *confused* B-But I haven't heard it ever since I gave the playlist to you..

Sasuke: Hm? *checks the link*

Sakura: *checks the link*

Sasuke: *realizes it's on shuffle*

Sakura: *realizes it's the wrong playlist*

Sasuke: *blushes* S-So.. I should've not played it on shuffle?

Sakura: *flushed* N-No! I mean, it's wrong— I'll explain, Sasuke-kun— I mean Uchiha-san—

Sasuke: *checks the playlist again; blushes* LOML.. I— I didn't know, Sakura..

Sakura: *cold sweats* U-Uchiha-san.. Um..

Sasuke: *reads the song titles from beginning to end*

Sakura: *runs to her unit as soon as the elevator door opens*

Sasuke: *yells* Haruno-san!!

---

Sakura: You're so dumb, Sakura. Why would you send him that??

Sasuke: Haruno-san—

Sakura: W-What are you doing here? How did you—

Sasuke: You forgot to lock the door.. Haruno-san..

Sakura: It's— It's the wrong playlist, Uchiha-san.. It's not the playlist that I created for you—

Sasuke: But it says Uchiha Sasuke I love—

Sakura: *covers his mouth* Y-Yes.. It's for you too but you were not supposed to see that—

Sasuke: S-So, do you like me?

Sakura: Uchiha-san.. I'll send you the correct playlist, okay? May I ask you to leave? I'm just— I—

Sasuke: Okay.. Calm down.. I'll go.. Sorry.. *leaves*

---

Sakura sends a chat..

Here's the correct playlist [title: For sleepyhead], Uchiha-san. I hope you like it.

Sasuke plays the 1st song..

I like it, Haruno-san. Thanks! Give this song a listen too. :)

This is beautiful, Uchiha-san! Thank you.. Sorry if I acted rudely earlier.. I was just very embarrassed.

Sasuke reads the message and sends another song..

This one is a bit old but I guess it sums up everything that I wanted to ask you earlier.

I was surprised.. Pleasantly surprised..

Uchiha-san..

Sasuke blasts his speakers:

Sakura: *blushes while listening to the song*

Sasuke: Sakura!

Sakura: Y-You're here?

Sasuke: You didn't lock the door. Again.

Sakura: *laughs*

Sasuke: It's not a song for romantic dancing but.. May I? *offers his hand*

Sakura: *takes it and they dance slowly*

Sasuke: I know we're probably going a bit too fast but—

Sakura: It's hard for me to open up b-but Sasuke-kun, can I tell my feelings through songs?

Sasuke: Of course.. *smiles* I'll do the same..

Sakura: Okay.. *smiles*

Ino: *enters* Oh— Sorry, you didn't lock the door.

Sakura: *laughs*

Sasuke: *laughs*

#Spotify #sasusaku #sasusaku au #sasusaku fic #from ask #ty anon #sscoded no 295

[picturejasper20]

If rose was somehow brought back post future would Steven treat her like how Danny treat the Vlad? It's a very strange question and comparison because even if we go with the fact that there are some similarities between both characters and have self-hatred about them and selfish, they go about it differently and Rose wasn't exactly a villain like Vlad but the characters kind of treat her like she.... Not necessarily a villain but like so heavily responsible for every problem that has happened that she is arguably an greater scope antagonist.

That's an interesting question...

I'm not sure if Steven post-future would treat Rose Quartz the same way Danny treats Vlad in A Glitch in Time. These characters have a deeply different relationship with each other and how they view themselves.

Rose Quartz was Steven's mother, someone Steven never got know personally. So most of his opinion is based on what others have told him about her. She was someone Steven used to looked up to and he shaped a good part of his identity trying to be like her.

Steven usually felt responsible for awful things that Rose had done, usually without intention of hurting anyone. He had to deal with all those things that Rose ¨left¨ that he felt that he had to fix, when Rose herself didn't want for him to grow up having to fix this problems.

This is very different from the relationship that Vlad and Danny have, which is from day one being arch nemesis and someone that Danny doesn't want to turn into. He acts as constant reminder of something he doesn't want to be and most of the series the nature of their dynamic is to be enemies.

Vlad isn't someone Danny didn't look up to nor he felt like he had to shape himself to be like him. On the contrary, he doesn't want be like him and he hates the idea of follow the path that he offers him with every ectoplasm of his being.

What is more, he is someone that Danny personally knows. He doesn't rely on other people to have to have an idea of who Vlad is since he usually interacts with him, unlike Rose with Steven. Vlad isn't Danny's father nor an adult figure that raised Danny. It could be argued that he is like an ¨uncle¨ but he got the chance to mentor Danny.

Back to the question, i think Steven would feel very mixed about Rose if she suddenly happened to come back after the events of Future. Part of him would probably want to get to know her personally and spend time with her, something he never could, not even in ¨Storm in the Room¨ because it was an illusion, not the real Rose Quartz

Another part of him would probably hate her and demand to know why she did certain things. He would probably have a moment of lashing out at her, telling her that he had to deal with some awful things she ¨left behind¨. Rose would understand how Steven feels and explain that she didn't want any of this for him and she is sorry he had to endure with all those problems.

Maybe it could be the closure that Steven needs. Knowing that while Rose Quartz did good things, she still hurt people along the way and it is understandable for him to feel angry about that.

#steven universe #danny phantom #steven quartz universe #Rose quartz #vlad plasmius #danny fenton

[phantomrubyy]

YANDERE BOOM!SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

TYPE: romantic headcanons

SERIES: Sonic Boom (2014)

WARNINGS: yandere behavior, stalking, invasion of privacy, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, possessiveness, obsession

NOTE: While beginning to write these headcanons was hard, I had lots of fun coming up with these. I especially enjoyed working on Tails and Sonic’s friendship as his behavior gets worse. I might end up doing a scenario or something with the same concept and expand on the idea.

◇ The two of you most likely crossed paths during one of Doctor Eggman's, soon to be foiled, attempts to wreak havoc on the village. As per usual, it was the same routine of destroying robots and saving the villagers. Yet, when you thanked the hedgehog for saving you from one of Eggman’s robots, Sonic was awe-struck. After the group’s victory, Sonic makes sure to “coincidentally” run into you so he can strike up a conversation with you. Soon enough, he eventually properly introduces you to the group, who are more than happy to have another friend.

◇ At first, Sonic isn’t quite sure why he feels so weird around you. He has a high image of himself and he struggles with properly expressing himself as he deems it to be uncool. So, in the first stages of interacting with you he is in denial and suppresses his strange feelings, opting to make sure you see him for just how incredible he is; which is how he begins to realize just how much he enjoys your praise whenever he spends time with you. Sonic rationalizes this behavior by convincing himself that he simply wants you to believe he’s the greatest hero of Hedgehog Village. As you’re one of his friends now, he just wants you to know he’s awesome, that’s all.

◇ Despite his refusal to come to terms with his feelings, he gets jealous of others very easily even before you two get in a relationship. He begins to overthink and believe he isn’t good enough or that he’s boring you whenever you hang out with someone else; the only exceptions are his friends but even then it doesn’t calm his envy. This in turn boils down to Sonic doing anything for you to receive your praise or to impress you. Be it by doing nearly impossible tasks or something as mundane as getting you lunch from Meh Burger. He even offers to do tasks you need help with from the others, such as having Tails fix your TV or having Knuckles help move heavy luggage. Anything you could possibly want done, Sonic is immediately on it. As to impress you, he often does so while on the battlefield even if it backfires with him embarrassing himself. If you laugh at his antics afterwards, he still considers his attempt a success as he adores hearing you laugh.

"Hah!! I win again! Did you see that Y/N? Wasn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever seen?"

◇ As his obsession with you grows, it gets to the point where Sonic cannot process not being with you, even for a split second. When you’re not around he feels bored, so to make up for it he talks about you at any opportunity he gets. It does concern Tails and Amy, but as his best friend, the fox justifies it by bringing up the fact he doesn’t know how to properly express himself. “Maybe Sonic is just in denial that he has a crush on them” or something along the lines is what Tails uses in an attempt to back up his best friend. For a while, this manages to subside anyone’s thoughts about his bizarre behavior. After all, Sonic is a hero. He has his flaws but he means well, right?

◇ If you have friends outside of the group or want to make friends, you’re quickly met with Sonic’s blunt comments of disapproval. Why would you want to hang out with anyone else? Is he boring for you? Is the group not enough for you? He crosses his arms and gives you an unamused look when you have plans with anyone else besides him or the team. With his large self-obsessed ego, it makes a dent in his self image whenever you don’t want to spend time with him. Additionally, if the team is hanging out and you aren’t going, Sonic refuses to go as well. He either makes excuses or states that it would be lame.

“You’re not going to Amy’s later? Psh, me neither. She’d probably just have us sit and do nothing like last time…“ 

◇ While being in a relationship with Sonic while being a part of the group can be suffocating, if you happen to just be a resident in the village, his behavior is ten times worse. He feels paranoid whenever he can’t keep tabs on you while he’s busy keeping the village safe or while he’s out just having fun. He’s afraid that Eggman might kidnap you or even use you against him. To deal with this problem, Sonic resorts to asking Tails to create trackers or any device to know your every move. He uses the excuse that they could use the gadgets to anticipate Eggman’s attacks and plan ahead. While this works for a short time, Tails eventually finds out.

“Sonic, are you insane!? Why were the cameras you asked me to build at Y/N’s house? Have you been stalking them all this time!? I can’t believe you!! I’m such an idiot for believing there was a rational explanation for your behavior!“

“Are you seriously accusing me of stalking them?! Especially after everything we’ve been through together? Stop being so nosy for crying out loud! I don’t need you shoving your nose in my relationship Miles.“

“Oh, well, I’m soo sorry for being concerned over one of my friends when my best friend, the person who I trusted the most, turned into an overzealous, controlling, obsessive stalker!“

◇ Once best friends and now their constant arguments put a strain on their own relationship. Amy, Knuckles and Sticks have to act as the glue to prevent the group from falling apart. Not just for each other’s sake, but for the village as well. Even when the two apologize to each other, the two’s conflicting ideals about you don’t stop. While everyone else is concerned for you and your safety, Tails’ is the most outspoken about the situation. His admiration and view on his long time best friend is completely shattered which has him completely frustrated and devastated. Although whenever they try and intervene, Sonic is always there to stop them; each attempt angering the hedgehog as your relationship is none of their business.

◇ Even with his friendships completely destroyed, Sonic is too deep into his own delusions and obsession. He doesn’t need anyone, the only one he needs is you. He just needs you and only you to love him. In the end it doesn’t matter what anyone else says. He’s the only one capable of protecting you and the only one who deserves to be with you.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I know things are bad but we’ll get through this together. If things don’t work out we can always just leave and go somewhere else. Just the two of us! I promise.“

#x reader #yandere #sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic the hedgehog #boom!sonic #yandere boom!sonic #headcanons #yandere x reader #sonic x reader #yandere writing #boom!sonic x reader #sonic boom x reader

[darsynia]

Just Right | Ch 5

(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)

gif from @steverogersdaily

Summary:

You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.

Length: 3,169

FIC MASTERLIST | LAST CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Want to be tagged on this or any other Steve fic? Please ask!

@ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap @isasalom

Excerpt:

“I’m going to ask you again. Am I dead in your universe?”

“Yes.”

The words sever the strings of courage that had been holding you upright, and you sway sideways, prompting Gold Steve to get up and help you sit on the bed. He drags his chair over for himself and leans forward on it, eyeing you with the care and concern of a person who has no idea how to fix what they’ve just broken.

“I didn’t want to tell you, not if I could avoid it,” he says. “Part of why I’m here is to reverse what happened, if we can.”

“What?” you gasp, shaken. He’s hopped universes to--

Gold Steve swiftly reaches over to take your hand with an encouraging squeeze. “It happened to a lot of people. More than you could ever imagine. Please don’t be upset, you’re--” He breaks off, looking at you with exasperated warmth. You feel buffeted from all sides, your ability to master your emotions at its lowest ebb. This man would throw himself into any void if he thought it would save a life, but this?

“Did you seriously just try to make me feel better by saying more people died?” 

Chapter Five

Tony seems reinvigorated by your conversation, and he heads back to his lab. Either he’s too caught up in his conclusions or it’s too dark in the room for him to see how shaken you truly are, but you’re grateful. You… need a minute.

You lay back in the chair with your eyes shut, trying to find a way to calm your racing mind so you can sleep. All that does is swirl your thoughts deeper, a cyclonic storm front being fed a steady diet of awful futures and horrible alternatives. Eventually, you stand up and head toward the residence hallway.

Adrenaline makes your knock louder than you’d intended, but now that you’ve done it, there’s no taking it back. You tell yourself that if Gold Steve doesn’t answer after this one try, you’ll give up and try to talk to him during the dayti--

The door opens, faster than you would have expected it would if he had been asleep.

Before he can say anything, your fear bubbles over and you say, “Am I dead?”

His eyes close tightly for a second, and he drops his head. “What time is it?” he asks, his voice low and wary.

“Sometime after three. I can’t sleep, I--”

“Shh, it’s-- Come in? This isn’t a hallway conversation.”

The implication that it’s not a dining or rec room conversation floats between you for a second before you nod, and he backs up to let you in. As you suspected, his bed is still made. There’s a paperback open next to the wrinkles in the coverlet from where he’d been sitting, and a lamp is on. Gold Steve opens a folding chair and then sits on it, meaning he wants you to sit on his bed. You hesitate, and he scrubs a hand over his face.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the only reason Steve Rogers would sit down before a guest in his space is to make that guest pick the more comfortable option. Even so, it feels too intimate to sit on his bed, so you stay standing, wrapping your arms around yourself for support.

Steve’s brows furrow when he sees how uncomfortable you are, but he doesn’t push. Instead, in a soft voice that makes your heart ache, he says, “What makes you ask something like that, ‘Dine?”

“Tony told me about his breakthrough, the molecular fingerprint thing. He didn’t go into the why, but said if he was looking to send someone through dimensions, he’d want to use an anchor.” You hope you make sense, because even after a half hour, comprehension of what Tony had explained to you is slipping through your mental fingers. “He thinks you used me as an anchor, and that you did it because I don’t exist in your universe anymore. That way you could show up before whatever bad thing happened to kill me.” 

His expression is both stunned and regretful. It makes you wonder what your Steve’s expression will look like when that bad thing happens sometime in the near future. The room suddenly feels very cold, and the thing you’re asking may be inflammatory, but it won’t warm anything up.

“I’m going to ask you again. Am I dead in your universe?”

“Yes.”

The words sever the strings of courage that had been holding you upright, and you sway sideways, prompting Gold Steve to get up and help you sit on the bed. He drags his chair over for himself and leans forward on it, eyeing you with the care and concern of a person who has no idea how to fix what they’ve just broken.

“I didn’t want to tell you, not if I could avoid it,” he says. “Part of why I’m here is to reverse what happened, if we can.”

“What?” you gasp, shaken. He’s hopped universes to--

Gold Steve swiftly reaches over to take your hand with an encouraging squeeze. “It happened to a lot of people. More than you could ever imagine. Please don’t be upset, you’re--” He breaks off, looking at you with exasperated warmth. You feel buffeted from all sides, your ability to master your emotions at its lowest ebb. This man would throw himself into any void if he thought it would save a life, but this?

“Did you seriously just try to make me feel better by saying more people died?” 

“Are you upset at the thought that I’d do it just for you?” Gold Steve whispers your name, your real one, the one almost no one uses, and the tone of his voice leaves nothing to the imagination.

“Don’t,” you plead, pulling your hand away, pressing it to your chest over the heart his counterpart lives in. “You asked me if I had feelings for him, and I do. But whatever difference between our universes that brings you here capable of looking at me with so much affection… That hasn’t happened to him, okay? It’s confusing, and in a really awful way it’s making me dissatisfied with the life I have.” You can’t stay seated anymore, so you get up, backing into the blank space beside his bed where a second nightstand would go. Gold Steve’s giving you his full attention, and the words spill forth, all of them, before you can stop yourself. “And now you’re telling me I’m going to die, that a lot of people are going to die, and you’re you, so obviously it’s something terrible enough to move time and space, and I just--”

Steve gets up abruptly, the fierceness of his action knocking the chair sideways. It collapses down, but he doesn’t stop pacing away from you, the stiffness of his posture illustrating how upset he is.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he grits out, facing the wall across the room from you, head down.

“Do what?”

“Be less than honest with you.”

You don’t feel unsafe, but you do feel unsure. Still, this is a version of Steve, and you love him, even if you aren’t in love with this him. In a way, you feel like you haven’t earned being in love with Gold Steve. The two of you have slotted into some sort of emotional shorthand by accident, and it’s fucking you up.

“So, be honest.”

“You’re going to wish I hadn’t been.”

“Sometimes life is like that, Steve,” you say. It’s the first time you’ve called him that, and you watch the name strike him from behind like a literal cupid’s arrow-- because when Gold Steve turns around, it’s obvious how much it means to him.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “Something terrible happened. We weren’t even sure if we could fix it, but the pieces fell into place…” He looks down at the floor, and the regret painted across his features is somehow beautiful in the half-light. “The cost was too high.”

The two of you abide in the shadow of those words for a moment before he continues.

“We came up with a way to fix it. Tony had already mostly designed the device; he was confident that every Tony Stark could create it, given time. The real question was whether to risk sending me to a universe without him. That’s where you come in.”

“Tony’s the one who got me this job,” you realize aloud. “Isn’t that risky? How could you know every version of me worked with Tony?

“We didn’t have a lot of time to worry about that. There’s more, ‘Dine, but I need you to keep this to yourself. It’s important.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you ask me not to, but… what are you afraid of?”

“That someone would stop me from going back.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. Gold Steve’s expression is best described as dire. “What happened?” you whisper, genuinely frightened. By all reports, Steve had been ready to die in Sokovia, and that had been the latest in a long line of similarly life-threatening events he’d faced with stoic bravery.

He steps toward the middle of the room, the angular shadows from the lamp tracing across his chest. “The… event that took the lives of so many people, it was made possible by a set of powerful artifacts. They’ve been hidden across the universe, and one of them is held on a planet that asks a horrible sacrifice.” Gold Steve falls silent, and you can’t tell whether he’s searching for words or fortitude.

Did he say ‘planet??’ you think to yourself. Aloud, you say, “The one whose cost was too high?”

His smile is lopsided. “Yeah.” He avoids your gaze, looking around the room before seeming to make a decision. “Out of necessity, I lied about some things. My coming here wasn’t a mistake, and we do have this complex, with some variations in the architecture.”

“What don’t you want to tell me, Steve?”

Gold Steve had been avoiding your eyes until you said his name, and the look he gives you makes your breath catch.

“I didn’t tell you that story about loss because I wanted anything from you. I need you to believe that,” he says hoarsely. It’s deflection, but it’s also maybe a confirmation of the thing you hadn’t allowed yourself to conclude.

Imagining yourself as someone he’s loved and lost is too much for you right now. All you can do is nod.

“We gathered up a team, went to get the... artifacts I told you about, and when we all came back, we didn’t all come back. To get one of the stones, there’s a--” He breaks off. “Anyway, we weren’t going to let that stand. We don’t leave anyone behind-- in fact, those were the exact words used. When Tony made a joke about that in Romania…”

“Steve, it’s three in the morning,” you whisper, unable to follow. “I want to understand--”

“No, you’re right,” he says, tone turning confident. The team leader in him is taking over. “Head to bed, we can talk another time.”

It’s only once the door opens and you both move through to the hallway that your mind finally realizes something. It’s an effort to keep your voice quiet.

“Oh my God, Steve, if you get this right, if you reverse what happened, do you get her back?” It’s close to vocalizing a shared secret, the secret: that you are the One Who Got Away.

He closes his eyes and nods. “If we reverse what happened, she comes back, yes.”

“Oh, I hope it works!” you breathe, ducking under his arm to give him an impulsive half hug. Gold Steve tenses up for a second before that arm slings around your waist and squeezes, and he sets his chin against your hair briefly.

“Thank you,” he says, pulling in a breath as though to say something else. You wait, but his silence tells you he changed his mind.

“What is it? You owe me,” you tell him, and his puff of surprised laughter scabs over some of the wounds your conversation inflicted.

“I’m going to say this, even though I shouldn’t meddle,” Gold Steve says, “--but Brigandine, if any part of him is part of me? Then he wants you.”

He steps back and shuts the door, and you’re left in the hallway, shaken to your very core. Deep in your heart, in the places you’d built high, careful walls to prevent heartache, there are vines growing.

You fall back against the wall, heart racing. You’d hoped his story had been about you, but hadn’t dared let yourself think it. After all, you hadn’t met Steve until a year after he’d found out his childhood best friend was the Winter Soldier, and that doesn’t match Gold Steve’s narrative. After a year of loving Steve Rogers, you’d learned the hard way that making assumptions only leads to disappointment. There’s no mistaking what he’d just said, though, and the language he’d used -!

If any part of him is part of me? Then he wants you.

Wants.

There’s no way in hell you can sleep. 

You want to talk to Steve now.  

You want to hide in your room until you figure out what the hell to say to him. 

You want to ask him to teach you how to spar and then beat on him for a while until he admits maybe he thinks you’re cute.

You want to ask Natasha to teach you how to spar and ask her a million, million questions.

Most of all, you just miss Steve. You’d been hiding from the disparity between the two men’s reactions to you for long enough that your heart aches a little. That thought makes you imagine what it must be like for Gold Steve. Sure, he’s got a plan, but there are many steps left on it-- and the person he loves isn’t just a few rooms away. She’s dead, and by all accounts, has no idea how he feels.

You kind of want to knock on his door and tell him the inverse of what he’d said to you, because there’s no way in hell it’s not true. Any version of you is by her very nature completely gone over Steve Rogers. The next best thing you can do for Gold Steve is to make sure that your story doesn’t end the same way.

You hug your arms around yourself and do a dizzy little spin of happiness, anxiety, and hope.

When you come to a stop, an impulsive, sleepy, recalcitrant part of you offers an idea, one you reach for with greedy hands. Three times a week, Steve gets up very early to run, and it’s one of those mornings. You’d only have to wait ninety minutes, which is probably the same amount of time it would take you to fall asleep in bed with your mind racing like this!

You find Steve’s door and settle into a position across from it on the floor, your phone in hand. It’s got enough battery to last a while, and best of all, this gives you time to prepare for what you’ll say.

You wake up in your own bed.

You sit up in utter surprise, scrambling the blanket out of the way to find that yes, you are wearing the clothes you were wearing the night before. You don’t see your shoes anywhere, but they’re not on your feet or in the bed.

“FRIDAY?” you call out, standing waif-like and confused in the middle of your room. “How in the heck am I in my room?”

“Captain Rogers carried you to your room from the hallway just after five in the morning--”

“WHAT?” you shout over her form of address. “Show me?”

You throw yourself into your desk chair and open the laptop, grateful that FRIDAY is integrated enough to take care of the mundane nonsense-- the surveillance camera feed opens right away.

“I can display the footage in whatever order you wish,” FRIDAY prompts.

“How about backwards from when I got in here?”

The display in the window flickers for a second, then starts playing footage backwards. When you see Steve ohmygodhisarmsarebare Rogers back up through the doorway carrying you bridal-style, you slam your hand down on the spacebar to pause the video. It’s hard to breathe as you stare at the frozen image. Steve is wearing a white tank top, facing away from the camera in the process of shouldering his way through the door, careful to keep you from striking the door frame by turning sideways.

You’re certain it’s the Steve from your universe, but ask the question in a stunned whisper anyway. FRIDAY’s response is definitive: this is ‘your’ Steve.

Carefully, you hit the spacebar to unpause.

The blessed hallway camera gives you a front-on view of Steve’s backwards walk, including a moment where he stops and looks down at you. It looks like he’s checking to see if you’re waking up-- but the look on his face is absolutely everything. Your goosebumps have goosebumps as you watch the moment lengthen; Steve tips his head to the side and regards you fondly before starting to move again.

It’s confirmation of what Gold Steve said, in glorious pixelated technicolor.

Excited to rush over and talk to him in person, you get up and start looking for the clothes you’ll change into after your shower. As soon as you open your underpants drawer, though, you’re racing back over and hitting spacebar to play the video again, desperate to see more.

The Steve in the video backs up, then turns, looking down at you for a long second before leaning over to settle you onto the floor. You’re stunned, enraptured, overwhelmed.

Nothing about the video you’re watching contains the kind of jerky movements you’d expect from watching it in reverse. Steve is gentle, careful, and smooth. He’s clearly doing his very best not to wake you up. You’re actually conflicted, because waking up to see him looking down at you so tenderly would have shot up to the top slot in a list of happiest moments of your life, no question.

“Oh my god, I am literally going to combust,” you whisper under your breath. The video is still going, showing you curled up onto your side with your phone propped up onto your hand. This reminds you to look for your phone. You finally find a charge cable sticking out from the drawer of your nightstand-- Steve had clearly  looked for your your charge cable, despaired of finding a place on the messy surface to set down your phone without risking it falling, and stuck it in the drawer.

Is there a chance that Steve Rogers doesn’t know that nightstand drawers are for things guests should never see?  You're lucky yours were tucked farther back and out of sight.

It’s mere chance that has you looking back over at your laptop to see that the video has reached the moment when you'd spun in complete glee in the hallway. You walk over and sit down, smiling indulgently and wrapping your arms around yourself in a mirror of video-you’s movements.

You watch as you back up into Gold Steve’s doorway, and then you realize how different those last moments are when you can see his face.

Gold Steve’s expression is etched with longing as he tells you those world-changing words. That light pressure against your hair was a kiss, and his hands shake a little, as he responds to your hug. There’s grief in every movement he makes.

You’re dumbstruck and worried, rewinding and watching those moments twice, your heart breaking for him more each time. This doesn’t feel like concern about the plan not working. This feels like mourning.

You were already going to go straight to talk to Steve as soon as you got dressed, but now? Now you throw on the clothes you picked out and head out the door. Something is wrong, and the two of you are going to find out what it is.

Next chapter...

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #captain america x f!reader #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #romance #pining

[redux-iterum]

i am aware you can't answer this right now, but! as a patron, your Tigerclaw. ough. it's been a good couple months(?) since i read his death scene and i am still reeling from the impact (in a positive way). just. everything. i am lacking in words tonight but just how emotionally charged it is, from every angle, in every way......... man. thats the kind of shit i hope to write one day. "emotional impact that feels like being beaten with a really heavy pillow (in a good way)" my beloved <3

OH same patron anon from like 2 minutes ago with the Spoiler Comment Question, here with a Hopefully-Not-Spoiler Comment Question. Once again; I love how you write Tigerclaw!!! the fact that I was, in the moment, disappointed and a little upset that Lionface was chosen as deputy over him, the fact that, on more than one occasion, I found myself wondering-slash-hoping that he was somehow, in some way, a red herring and not. y'know. responsible for the deaths that have ALWAYS been his fault in every rewrite and retelling. as if I didn't already know. as if it wasn't a fact I've known since I was a small child reading WC for the first time. damn. as i said before: many thoughts no words to express them But I Love, patron anon back for round 3. sorry that im spamming you with messages i just keep having More Thoughts and apparently no filter. I love how you write Tigerclaw as, like..... not a grand cunning mastermind, possibly not even in his own eyes. Prideful, yes, but there's this element of.... i don't quite know how to put it. He's just a guy. He's just a guy who loves his mate and his son, and is excited for the kits his mate is expecting, if a little apprehensive. Just a guy who is dangerous and terrible because he is so, so very certain that he knows what The Right Thing To Do is, and is willing to do whatever it takes to reach that ideal, but his idea of The Right Thing To Do is so horrible and skewed and dangerous. He does what he has to do, or what he thinks he has to. Does he see it as self-sacrifice, in a way? stooping so low for the sake of those he cares about? sorry again for the multiple asks but i'm obsessed with villains like this and have only just now managed to put the words together. cause like.... a lot of truly awful people aren't masterminds. They're people who are so very certain that they're in the right, and are so very wrong about that. i do love flamboyant, Evil-with-a-capital-E cartoon villains a lot (when done right), but there's something about having a villain be so normal, so clearly An Average(ish) Person, someone who may not even see how horrific their actions are. NOT THAT ANY OF THIS IS AN EXCUSE, it's not that they're misdirected or confused. it's like... the dead certainty that they are Correct and other people are Wrong. There's something very..... tactile? about it. "Real" might be the right word but it doesn't feel exactly right. It's like, this is a person you could meet. A person you could know. And they're just quietly (or not-so-quietly) abhorrent in so many ways. sorry for rambling my head is full of thoughts tonight and i apparently cannot shut up </3

Much gratitude and flustering for these asks, man, golly. I've hoped that I've improved in writing over time, and asks like these make me more confident. Thank you for reading along! (And for pledging on Patreon, an absolute of course.) Apologies for not getting to these sooner, I was saving them for today.

Your assessment of Tigerclaw is spot-on. I would say he THINKS he thinks of himself as a normal, good husband and warrior who's doing his best and having a humble life. There's only so real that can be when he also has the constant thought of "I am the only one who sees the truth and I need to Fix Things because no one else can". He thinks he's so much more honest and realistic than he is. You know people like that. I know people like that. The most dangerous person is one that can fool themselves.

#ask #anonymous #kind words #burning hearts ask #i speak #queue #spoilers