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princessmisery666 · 8 months

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Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending.

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day.

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again.

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him.

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.”

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours.

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will.

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise?

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later.

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.”

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?”

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.”

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension.

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.”

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first.

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both.

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play.

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.”

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests.

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks.

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.”

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh.

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.”

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.

“That hurt?” he asks.

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.”

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial.

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s.

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone.

“Hey, hi,” you answer.

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.”

“You okay?”

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.”

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine.

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.”

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.”

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.”

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.”

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.”

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?”

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better.

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair.

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.”

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes.

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard.

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.”

“They seem like a good bunch.”

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door.

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you.

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them.

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you.

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction.

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls.

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.”

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?”

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.”

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer.

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?”

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own.

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you.

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you.

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.”

“Good for them.”

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards.

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong.

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you.

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…”

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.”

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly.

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away.

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again.

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return.

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop.

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door.

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #reader insert #female reader #dean winchester angst #spn fanfic #angst #spn fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x you #you x dean winchester

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 10 months

Text

Winter Fireflies

Summary: Despite knowing Natasha for years and dating her for a while now, you're still unaware of when her birthday is. So when Yelena lets it slip, you decide to give her a small surprise.

Authors note: Happy Birthday Natasha! 💖

Authors note 2.0: sorry this is out so late, I got distracted today lmao. Smutty birthday drabble coming later!

Word count: Marvel Masterlist Nat Masterlist

When you walk into the kitchen, you're bummed by the abscence of Natasha. You’ve been trying to track her down since you’d woken up alone in your bed, and had already looked in practicaly every other corner and crevice of the place. Thankfully the kitchen had at least been nice enough to give up Yelena, and you were sure would know her sisters whereabouts.

“Do you know where Nat is?” you ask, strolling over to the fridge for a much needed bottle of water

She shrugs, “She spends a lot of time alone on her birthdays”

You choke on the sip of water you’d just taken, “What did you just say?!”

“Oh shit” she exclaims, eyes going wide. She knew her older sister liked to keep a lot of things close to her chest, but even she hadn’t seen this coming, “She really didn’t tell you?”

“No.” you admit, turning your head away from the blonde

The two of you have been together for little over a year now, and you’ve been friends for nearly five, so the fact that you still had no idea when her birthday was left you feeling more than a bit embarrassed. Because even though nobody else knew either due to Nat having Fury wipe the more personal info from all her files, you thought that the bond the two of you had that helped forge your relationship would have changed matters for you.

Didn’t she trust you enough by now to let you in? Its not like she hadn’t opened up to you about other things. You knew about most of her experiences in the Red Room, including her massive guilt and her nightmares. You knew about the Ohio mission and her sisterly bond with Yelena. You knew about Dreykov and his abuse. So why was her birthday such an elusive subject?

Yelenas brows furrow as she registers the multitude of different emotions etched upon her features and though this is her sisters fault for not being open with you, she feels guilty for letting the meaning of the date slip

“I am sorry, Y/n. I thought you knew”

You just nod and let the fridge door slam harder than intended, “Not your fault”

You have half a mind to just turn and head to your room for the day and ignore anyone that came knocking. If your girlfriend wanted space and privacy so badly, then you’d give it to her….but the bigger part of you knew you couldn’t do that to her. Natasha isn’t doing this out of spite or to intentionally hurt you, she just gets a little lost sometimes.

“Where does she go?”

“I’m honestly not sure” she answers, afraid she's only dampening your modd “But I know she's always back around dinner”

You glance at the clock and see that you have about three hours, “Wanna help me with something?”

She notices the hint of excitement in your eyes and finds herself intrigued, “I would love to.”

When Natasha had returned to the compound she had expected to find you in the kitchen helping Wanda make dinner, but when she didn’t find you there she imagined that you must still be up in your room. To her confusion however, you aren’t there either, and she feels a twinge of guilt knaw at her chest. She should have told you by now what today was and why it was so hard for her, she knew you’d be understanding. And regardless, should have at the very least have left you a note so you didn’t have to wonder why you’d woken up alone.

“Sestra(sister)”

She spins around in your doorway, “Lena, have you seen Y/n?”

“Funny, I was asked a very similar question from her this morning”

The redhead shuts her eyes, “You must think I’m a terrible girlfriend”

“No” she admits with a shake of her head, “But I do think you are very lucky to have the one that you do.”

Nats brows furrow, “I agree, but why do I feel that has a hidden meaning?”

The younger woman shrugs, “I wouldn’t know, but she's in your room”

Nat nods, and though she's still suspicious she heads off to her room instead. Once there she opens the door and is met with quite the surprise. Right above the doorframe a few streamers are hung, in the corner by her widow is a bundle of different colored balloons, and in the middle of her bed sits you with a couple of boxes.

“Kotenok(kitten), what is this?” she asks, despite the obvious answer. Afterall, she hadn’t told you so why would you celebrate her even if you did find out todays signifigance

“Its your birthday” you reply with a smile, “I know its been a while since you celebrated, so I hope this is okay. I didn’t want to go too overboard on decorations and presents, even though you definitely deserve to be spoiled”

Taken aback by your gesture, she finds herself beginning to get choked up, “I- yeah, yeah. Its more than fine”

“You sure?” you ask, feeling a bit nervous that you may have overstepped

“I’m sure.” she responds, walking twords you, “I’m sorry I never told you, I just…I never had this. In the Red Room, special occasions didn’t exist. And in Ohio, everything about them was fake. There wasn’t any real gifts, care or love and I…I didn’t want that again. I didn’t want a giant fake display of affection meant for show. I wanted something truly meant for me, something real”

You gently cup her face and wipe away the tears that she hadn’t even realized had been forming and slipping down her cheeks, “Well, I can assure you that this is all very real, baby. And all for you”

She gives you a soft smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah” you assure her, gently kissing her lips, “Now come see what I got you”

Despite her current age, youd think she was a kid again with the dizziness she feels as you lead her over to the bed. You pull over the larger all white box first, and she immediately knows its the kind of box that bakeries have. Her eyes are practically shining with excitement as she looks back at you and you gesture for her to open it.

Inside she finds a white circular cake thats decorated with running gold icing and intricatly made icing flowers. In the middle is a small plaque wishing her a happy birthday, and in all honesty, if this was all she ever got from now on then she’d be happy.

“I hope you like sprinkles, I had them put them between cake layers for you.” you ramble, as you were honestly a bit nervous on how shed react to everything

“I love sprinkles” she says, looking back at you, “And I love the cake. Thank you detka(baby)”

You practically beam at her, “You're welcome. Now, open this”

The next item you hand her is also in a box, only this time its black and definetly isn’t from the bakery. If she had to guess, its some form of jewerly. She takes it from you and opens it to reveal elegant golden bands, one for each wrist.

“I’ve been working on these for a while now, Tony helped design them of course” you explain, “They can do everything your widows bites can. That way, you never have to go undercover, or even to one of Tonys galas, without them again.”

She honestly hadn’t expected you to have remembered the brief conversation she’d had with you about how, despite practically being a weapon herself and always having a hidden gun or blade on her during undercover ops, she just feels like she’d feel more secure with her most trusted tool.

“They don’t even look like weapons.”

You chuckle, “Well, that was kinda the point, so I’m glad to hear that”

She smiles at you and sets the box down to grab your hand, “Thank you, Y/n. This really has been the best birthday”

“Don’t thank me yet, we still have one more thing” you tell her, glancing back over at her window to ensure it was dark enough outside

“Another gift? Detka(baby), you shouldn’t have”

You squeeze her hand, “Actually, this ones from Yelena”

Amused and curious, she follows as you lead her over to the widow and she lets out a soft gasp as she catshes sight of whats just beyond the compound in the woodline. Just on the edge, in a few of the pines, lay stings of light that glow a faint yellow, that flicker on and off in turn.

“Forrest stars”

Its merely a whisper, but you hear it along with the wonder in her voice. You imagine she must be reliving on of the few good childhood memories she has and you can’t help but wrap one of your arms around her and pull her closer

“Happy birthday, baby”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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loversatthegreatdivide · 4 months

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Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 2

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 3.2k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: I do not necessarily intent to update this everyday, but then again I won't complain about it when I'm motivated enough to make it happen. Also, just as a side note: My knowledge of the British aristocracy and the laws of inheritance in England at this particular time are shaky at best. Some things I will research because I feel like I can't leave it alone, but in this case I honestly do not care how historically accurate every single detail is. Again, Bridgerton is an AU, so I'll do what I want.

Benedict slumped down on the settee, arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was all but lying down with how far he had sunk, and as he half-lay in his seat, his mind raced.

He was frustrated.

It had been days since the Danbury ball, and yet he was no closer to discovering the identity of the enchanting young woman he had met there. In these past few days, she had occupied more space in his mind than he was comfortable admitting. He needed to see her again--or at the very least learn her name.

He had been through every family he could possibly think of, but all had been dead ends. Not that he was familiar with every household in the ton, but certainly his mother had briefed him on many of the households with eligible debutantes. He thought surely one must be the home of his mystery woman.

Anthony strolled into the drawing room, an eyebrow lifting as he looked over at his brother.

"What's got you brooding so?" he asked, taking a seat next to Colin at the small, round table that had been laid out with confections. He took a jelly tart for himself as he eyed Benedict from his seat.

"I do not brood brother--you are the one that broods," Benedict corrected, wiggling himself further down the settee, "I am pouting at best."

"Then what has you pouting so, Benedict?" Colin chimed in, setting the book he had been reading aside.

Benedict thought for a moment about telling them. They were his brothers after all, and there was the possibility one of them may even have some insight into the young lady's identity.

He thought better of it almost as soon as the thought entered his mind.

There was the potential to gain valuable information yes, but the ribbing he would receive in return would be never-ending. And there was the risk of the information reaching his mother's ear. He shuttered to think what she would do if she believed he was actively seeking a wife--he saw how she was with Anthony last season.

He certainly didn't want anyone in his family to presume something so ludicrous as his desire to marry--he wasn't looking for a wife, he was only curious.

Yes, curiosity. That was all.

He decided it wasn't worth the trouble; not yet, at least. While he had no luck finding her again, at the very least he knew she was aware of him. There was a chance she may seek him out, however slim it may be. And it seemed very likely she would attend the next ball. A debutante newly introduced in society could hardly be kept from every dance and social engagement held throughout the season. Even if she herself had seemed less than taken with the last event, there was surely a pestering mama in the picture that was pushing her forward regardless.

So he would wait to speak of it with his family until he had no other options.

"I was just thinking longingly of the peace and quiet in the house while the two of you were away," he joked, his hands moving dramatically to press together, as if in prayer.

"Well now I know you're lying," Anthony smirked, "Since when did you enjoy peace and quiet?"

"It certainly sounds out of character," Colin agreed, "Perhaps he simply enjoyed having fewer people around to catch him leaving for his nightly excursions."

"Yes Colin, I think you're right," the eldest brother replied. Benedict scowled, finally sitting up straight as to address his brothers at eye-level.

"That is quite the accusation, dear brother. Care to defend it on the piste?" Benedict challenged.

Colin smirked, "Careful brother--I'm stronger than I used to be."

"Well then, perhaps after another trip abroad you may finally pose a challenge for me," Benedict quipped, "Shall you join as well Anthony? You wouldn't want to miss our younger brother's humiliating defeat."

"He has been rather big-headed since his return, it would be nice to watch his ego deflate," Anthony grinned over at Colin, "For his own sake as well as ours."

"Would the two of you like to back up your boasting, or shall we sit and discuss it for another hour?" Colin huffed. Anthony and Benedict exchanged knowing smiles.

"Very well then," Benedict said as he rose from his seat, "Shall we then?"

The three brothers exited the room, pushing each other lightly and laughing as they headed for the back garden.

---

Beatrice slumped forward in her chair, frowning as her unfocused gaze fell to the bookshelves that lined the far wall. Her chin sat balanced on one hand, as the other absentmindedly fiddled with a page in the large book that lay on the table in front of her. She knew she would be reprimanded if her tutor--or worse, her grandmother--saw her slouching, but she was too bored to concern herself with it at the moment. She sighed, glancing down at the page she held between her fingers.

As the second child of the Prince Regent, Beatrice was fourth in line for the throne--soon to be fifth, once Charlotte's child was born. She no longer needed to prepare for a hypothetical future where she would someday need to step up and become queen. Yet still, her father insisted she continue her studies while forcing her to follow his excessively strict rules. Even convincing him to allow her stay at Buckingham House had been a struggle. Luckily, her father was rather a pushover when it came to his mother, and when the queen had insistent Beatrice be allowed to stay for the season he could hardly say no.

She straighten, only to slid down into her chair. It's not as if she disliked the act of learning altogether. There had been many times when she felt she had truly enjoyed her lessons, having looked forward to more than one. But there were others that felt rather pointless; just tedious memorization that she would never have need for even if she were to become queen.

Studying the crest and founder of all the current noble houses, along with the family tree going back at least three generations, was not exactly thrilling.

She had found some enjoyment when she first started, flipping immediately to the section concerning a family she was now quite interested in. It did somehow feel a little like snooping, and she felt a bit guilty looking through Benedict's family history. However, she told herself it was all public knowledge, and after all it was a part of her studies.

She learned quite a lot about the family--their crest, the first Viscount's name and history, and of course the family as it stands now. It was a surprise to learn Benedict had seven siblings; she couldn't even begin to image having such a large family. Then again, her father was one of fifteen children, so perhaps eight was not so unreasonable.

After learning all she could about the Bridgertons, she moved on. She was less enthusiastic about learning anything at all about the other households, and soon she found her thoughts drifting.

It had been a few days since the ball. Beatrice had been the one to ask if she could attend, and at the time truly thought she would enjoy going. She hoped she may make a friend--possibly even two. She had been so isolated as a child, and her sister had always been little company to her. It would have been nice to talk to people her own age.

However, she had not expected she would cause such a frenzy. She hadn't realized how little people saw of the royal family at such events--with the exception of the queen, of course. It made Beatrice too conspicuous. She was a shining light of hope representing the next generation of the monarchy.

Then of course, there were the men. Knowing nothing about her, yet treating her like a prized mare up for auction. She supposed even as the second child, she must seem appealing to them. The crown may be out of reach, but her future husband would still be a prince--and of course, there was the considerable amount of riches she had access to as a member of the royal household.

Perhaps that's why she had been so taken with Benedict Bridgerton.

He had clearly not known who she was. Perhaps he had arrived late, or been out of the room when she had been announced alongside her grandmother. Either way, he seemed truly clueless to the title she carried. It made him seem so genuine compared to the others she had met that night. It had been so refreshing to be treated as her own person, rather than a royal. It may well be his motivations were less than pure, but at the very least he seemed like an honest person. Perhaps more prone to humorous banter, but still so sincere when it was needed.

This left her with a rather vexing problem.

On the one hand, he would certainly learn her identity sooner or later. It made sense to simply tell Benedict now rather than hide it from him, which may go poorly when he did eventually discover the truth. On the other hand, she had enjoyed their conversation immensely, and if he found out she was a princess after only a single meeting, he would likely feel the obligation to treat her just as everyone else did. She would lose her one chance to have a real connection with someone that wasn't singularly focused on her proximity to the throne.

If she wanted to continue hiding her title from him, she would need to find a way to see him. If they built up a friendship first, perhaps once he did learn the truth he would be less inclined to treat her differently. She was nearly guaranteed to see him at the next ball, but then she would once again be announced as a princess. Whatever had caused him to miss her entrance at the first ball, she had doubts that it would happen a second time.

With that being the case, she either had to wait and see him at the next ball, holding out hope he may continue to act as he had before even after learning the truth. Or, she had to see him outside of a ballroom. She couldn't bare the thought of losing an opportunity for real friendship, but of course she would never be allowed to leave Buckingham House on her own. This left her with only one option.

She would have to sneak out.

---

Benedict lounged lazily on the sill of his bedroom window. His head leaned back against the wood of the frame as he gazed out over the lamp lit streets below. In his lap sat his sketchbook, filled with half-finished sketches of a lovely young woman whose face he just couldn't quite capture.

Spending the afternoon with his brothers had been a nice reprieve from his mind, but night had fallen and now he was alone. There was nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering every corner of London, searching for a girl he hardly knew. Benedict threw his sketchbook to the floor with a groan, rubbing his charcoal stained hands down his face in frustration.

He felt ridiculous, being so overcome with thoughts of someone he barely knew. The mystery and intrigue of it all certainly played a part in his curiosity, but he would be lying if he said it had nothing to do with the girl herself. Such circumstances made her a novelty to be sure, but she had exhibited qualities he had not often see from those of the ton. He had replayed their conversation a hundred times in his mind, and he was now sure that he knew at least something of her character.

To Benedict, she had seemed a well of profound, thoughtful emotion. She felt things deeply and was not ashamed to show it. This was in contrast to so many in his social class, who held propriety above all things--even their own feelings.

She had been shy, but still wasn't quite as naive as he may have first thought. She was clearly kind, but that didn't stop her from being quick-witted when she saw the occasion for it.

It had been such a short amount of time, but what he had learned of her had only fueled a desire to learn more.

Perhaps most interesting was that her insecurities seemed to match his own perfectly. He had been feeling rather useless following Anthony's return, and from what she had said she felt quite the same about her own situation. He had never expected to find a kindred spirit in one of the young ladies of the ton.

Not that Benedict thought them all completely incapable of deeper thought, it was only that his situation as a second-son was rather obviously specific only to sons. A woman could not inherit her families title even if she were the first born child, so it was unlikely to find one so worried over her place within the family hierarchy. It was their future husband's title that truly mattered.

He didn't know enough about the young lady's family to know for sure, but he supposed if her family had only daughters it would be up to the eldest to marry well to secure their family's title and estate. A second daughter would inevitably leave once she was wed, leading him to believe his mysterious young lady must also be quite loyal to worry about her family so.

Perhaps that was something to think on.

---

Benedict, so caught up in his own mind, failed to notice when the very woman occupying his thoughts appeared on the street below him.

She pulled the hood closer to her face as she looked up at him, his shadowed profile gazing up at the stars. He was difficult to make out in the low light, but she was quite certain it was him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

She was thankful to arrive having drawn no unnecessary attention. This time, she wore a less conspicuous dress than she had at the ball. It was made of a pale green fabric, cut in the popular style the other ladies of the ton were wearing. She had worn a silken, violet cloak over top so she was able to hide her face from view. Perhaps walking around covering her face was in itself a suspicious act, but anyone who may look at her strangely for it would have no opportunity to get a good look at her face, which was all that concerned her.

She may have avoided notice so far, but she faced a new problem: How was she to draw Benedict's eye without also drawing the attention of passersby on the street? She could not simply call out to him, but them he would need to be looking down at the street to alert him quietly. Frustratingly, at the moment he seemed content looking up at the sky, rather than down to earth.

She had only one other idea.

---

As Benedict sat deep in thought, he was roused by a small clank on the wall near his window. Before he had the chance to turn his head, something small and hard smacked him in the forehead. The surprise caused him to lose his balance, his body rocking back and forth in the open window. When he at last steadied himself, he rubbed his forehead, looking down to find whomever it was that had struck him.

A woman in a hooded cloak looked back up at him, gloved hands raised to her mouth in a look of surprise and worry.

Once she realized she had his attention, she pulled back her hood, and Benedict felt his heart jump to his throat.

It was her.

She was really here.

This time, the shock did cause him to tumble over, though thankfully landing on his bedroom floor rather than the street below. He scrambled to the window, popping his head out as he gripped the sill. She had one hand to her lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle a laugh. She quickly beckoned for him to come down before turning, pulling her hood back to it's place atop her golden curls.

Benedict fumbled as he stood, grabbing his coat and gloves from their place discarded on his bed as he all but ran out of the room. He nearly barreled straight into Anthony as he flew down the stairs, one arm in his jacket.

Anthony gave Benedict a suspicious look, "And where are you going in such a rush?"

"Out," Benedict replied simply, sliding his free arm through the empty sleeve.

"Out where?" Anthony asked, annoyed.

"Just out," Benedict reiterated, "Honestly brother, do you truly want to know?"

Anthony sighed, "No, I suppose I don't." He gave his brother a stern look, "Just be sure our mother doesn't catch you--I have to hear enough from her about Colin as it is."

Benedict smiled. He grabbed Anthony's face between his hands and gave his cheek a quick kiss, "Thank you brother!" Anthony made a disgusted noise, knocking Benedict's hands away, "This is why you're my favorite elder brother," he added as he began descending the rest of the staircase.

"I'm your only elder brother!" Anthony shot back, shaking his head as he turned away, continuing his way up to the second floor.

Benedict grinned from ear to ear as he burst through the doors of Bridgerton House. He turned when he reached the street, catching sight of her as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. His smile softened as he watched her, though in truth he was beginning to feel quite nervous himself. Benedict started to move toward her, and soon enough she caught sight of him. He smiled at her, his stomach doing somersaults when she shyly smiled back. They stood there in silence for a long moment, taking each other in.

"You're here," Benedict commented at last.

"Ah, yes...I am," she smiled as she glanced down briefly, "It's good to see you again, Mister Bridgerton--and I am quite sorry, about the rock." He looked at her in confusion, until she quickly pointed to her forehead and he realized her meaning.

"Oh! Was that what that was? It's no bother--after all, I can think of far worse things you could have thrown at me." The back of her fingers pressed lightly to her lips as she laughed. He smiled, feeling emboldened by her response to his rather silly joke, "Though, if you truly wanted to make it up to me, you could start by telling me your name?"

She looked surprised, "Oh, right. Of course. I suppose I did fail to give it to you when we spoke before."

"Yes, and I must say I've been taking it quite personally," he said, his lower lip pouting as he looked at her in mock sadness. She smiled.

"Well, I would hate to think I had caused you any pain," she joked, and he grinned back. "You may call me Beatrice."

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x oc #bridgerton #heavy lies the heart #loversatthegreatdivide #my writing

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vrisrezis · 1 year

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Guys this is au where suguru isn’t insane cuz in my mind he deserves eternal happiness and to be surrounded by people that love him and to live a long life and- yea anyways basically au where that didn’t happen and kuroi and Riko r actually fine

Also reader is considered to be on equal footing with geto and gojo, fellow “strongest” if you will :p

Also this was originally short hcs on how geto woos his stoic crush but I got carried away

Not proof read made this at like 3 am alr I’m so tired and sick and insane and this is probably terrible

I am under the believe suguru doesn’t even have to try to woo you, no matter how cold blooded and closed off you can be. Suguru is such a sweet man that it’s hard not to fall in love. No matter how much you try to reject it, it will happen one way or another. That doesn’t mean he knows it, but he will still have that power over you regardless. He has such a sickly sweet laugh, it’s impossible to not stare and admire. It’s impossible to not make your heart race, to not feel that sudden heat on your cheeks that thankfully isn’t noticeable. His genuine smile has you on cloud nine, but your favorite is when he shyly looks away from your hard gaze that never softens, despite how the male makes you feel deep within your very soul. The world will never know how bad you have it for him. Suguru is rather closed off about his affections towards you himself, though not nearly as much. Besides he makes it pretty obvious to you anyway, as you are somebody who has mastered the art of hiding how you truly feel. It’s in your blood to read through any facade, especially somebody you pay such close attention to.

Suguru, at first, is overly polite with a shy smile. The attempts in becoming a friend are certainly there, but he’s not as bold as his best friend is, so it’s a rather slow progression. And honestly, without gojos help, he wouldn’t have been able to form such a close bond with you over time thanks to how extroverted the white haired male can be. Regardless, over time as he grows more comfortable with being your friend, he teases you, he even shows subtle ways of being affectionate, typically through casual, physical touch. A hand or elbow on your shoulder, fixing your hair, etc. though he could be bolder, your general personality drives him away from closer and more intimate touches. He still gets rather shy around you, and when you grow comfortable enough to be in close proximity of him, his cheeks get all red. Which you secretly think is adorable. His general shyness around you indicates his affections towards you as well, he’s constantly left wondering if you can just feel how much his heart constantly pounds around you. Or if you feel his gaze on you during class. He wonders if you appreciate his kind gestures, constantly trying to take you out and buy you food or simply buying you things you’ve learnt to open up to him about enjoying. He wonders if you know how grateful he is and how special he feels, knowing you of all people trust him with things you wouldn’t trust just anybody with, even if it’s something as small as admitting to the games you like playing.

You’re both smitten for eachother, one way or the other. You’re not completely clueless to it like he is, but you’re scared. You’re scared of vulnerability, you’re scared to love another human being. Because that means admitting to weakness. It means admitting that you’ve let another person get the best of you, when you’ve worked you’re entire life trying to be as strong as you possibly could be, to not let a single person in, to only be able to rely on yourself, because you’re the only one that’s trustworthy, letting people in gets you hurt, leaves you broken. All that time, building up those walls, all the pain and abuse and torture you went through, was all broken by some pretty boy in the matter of seconds. And for some god damn reason you welcomed it with open arms. And for some god damn reason, you don’t regret it. You feel the happiest you ever felt. It’s strange, cause before him you think you didn’t even know what happiness really felt like. All you knew was pain, all you knew was people would hurt you if you got too close. A part of you thinks, you were happy because you finally learnt how to love another, and you finally learnt what it felt like to have another love you. You know he loves you for you, not in spite of you. But a part of you, just can’t believe it was so easy, so effortless. Not only to love him, but to be loved. You chased endlessly after your family, to pay attention and to give a damn and for them to show some sign they cared. The day never came. But now you know, that love isn’t something you should bend yourself over backwards for. Love isn’t forced, it is natural. And yet, you felt yourself trying to go back to your old ways, in fear of history repeating itself.

You tried pushing him away, again. After everything that happened with toji, you realized you could lose geto in an entirely new way and you were not willing to go through that again. You needed him away from you, out of your life. You needed to focus on being a jujutsu sorcerer, that was what was most important.

You were exhausted. And it’s no question why.

Once again you are training at a rather late hour, something you seem to have been doing nonstop since you “failed” to deal with toji in time before your two boys nearly died in the process. You were always very hard on yourself for things like these, one of the few things you were pretty open about was your personal failures. Doesn’t matter to you that you were stabbed in the stomach, that you shouldn’t be training, you didn’t care. Things like this never stopped you, why should it now? Besides, you’ve been through worse.

Suguru had tried countless times to get you to stop, this included gojo and even shoko, too. But you didn’t listen. You never listened to them anyway.

But the moment he sees this going on for officially five days straight, he’s had enough.

“Still at it, huh?” he says, but you don’t even bother to stop and look at him. It’s become routine at this point for him to come and try to get you out of this motion you’ve been stuck in. Besides that, you’ve been trying to keep him at arms length. You don’t bother saying anything, putting both your fists out to have your hands let out a particularly smaller fire than what you normally would’ve made. You stop for a brief moment, huffing at the lack of results.

“Maybe some sleep will do you good?” he suggests, but you don’t bother to look at him as you continue your training, seemingly ignoring him. He lets out a sigh, suguru is not one to be stern with you. Out of the two of you, you’re the one that does the scolding, though it’s typically towards gojo, it’s been towards the raven haired male on several occasions, due to his overconfidence in a lot of the situations he’s constantly being put in.

“Don’t push everyone away, y/n.” he says, his voice being the most stable you’ve ever heard it. His voice is firm, rigid, even. “Don’t push me away.”

There’s a moment where you stop, a brief moment, but it’s enough for him to quickly put a hand on your shoulder. You look down, your back facing him. Your hands are clenched in fists in a feeble attempt to make yourself seem strong, to make yourself seem unfazed, unavailable. You don’t need anyone. You don’t need him, either. Why have you suddenly convinced yourself you do? You’ve lived your entire life without him. Why does it suddenly feel like you need him? It’s not fair.

You grit your teeth, but you finally allow him to turn you around.

He finally gets a real good look at you, for the first time in a couple days. He noticed you were losing weight, sleep too, but he didn’t think it got this bad. He lets out a guilty sigh at the pure sight of you, and you hate how it sounds. Like he’s pitying you. But honestly, how can you blame him? You are a pitiful sight. It’s a disgrace to consider yourself one of the strongest.

“Whens the last time you ate?” he finally manages to ask you, “slept?” his voice is laced with concern, but you don’t meet his worried gaze. “Who knows..” you shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Are you done worrying about me, cuz I have shit to do.” you say, in your usual nonchalant manner. Trying to pull off this facade this late has you exhausted.

You two haven’t been very intimate with one another, but suguru finds his soft hand on your cheek anyway, causing you to look up at the male in front of you. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “don’t hide from me, please?” he says, “this has been hard for me and satoru too but… even we are learning that we’re okay, what’s got you so messed up over this?”

You look up at him, you don’t push himself way anymore. You accept him with open arms.

“I feel like I failed you all.” you admit. “I feel as though there’s something I could’ve done. The mistakes I made on that mission nearly cost kuroi and rikos lives, I wasn’t good enough. I cannot forgive myself for that.”

He pulls his hand away from your face, you almost want to glare at him for the lack of touch, but he grabs your hands instead. “Jeez..” he says, sounding pretty tired himself. “You’re always too hard on yourself y/n. It was me that practically failed to protect them, you’re the one that saved them, you know. And, if it weren’t for you, that fushiguro wouldn’t even be dead right now. If you’re really beating yourself up over that, please don’t.”

You sigh, looks away from him, “I just don’t … want to fail again. More than anything I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Suguru seems to take in your words, as if something was finally clicking with him.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, and you almost want to cringe at his words. You quietly nod.

“Y/n, Cmon. You could never lose me. One of the strongest, remember?” he says, a soft smile peaking through, but you shake your head, taking your arms away from his. He frowns, seeing you retract again. “Yeah well, I almost did. I almost wasn’t enough to stop you from dying. I was almost the reason you died.” you say, and honestly it’s the first time since you were a young child you let anger drip from your voice. He almost hates it’s directed towards him. But a part of him knows he need to let it out somehow, someway, after everything you seem to constantly bottle up.

“There was a time in my life I had nothing, suguru. And now I have everything. I have you. I am not willing to lose that. Anytime I form a connection with anyone, I lose them. That cannot happen to me again.”

You feel arms wrap around you. It’s sudden, “tch- do you not listen to me when I talk? Yknow, I should really kill you.” you threaten, but as his hand comes in contact with the back of your head to stroke your hair, you fall silent. “I love you.” he admits, quietly.

“I don’t care how you feel about me,” he continued, “but no matter what, I want to be there for you. You won’t lose me, you know? I’ll always come back to you. Cause my love for you is so strong, it’s enough for me to change fate itself, to escape even the clutches of death. I love you so much, I would do absolutely anything to make sure you wouldn’t lose me. It’s okay to let me in, fully and unapologetically.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret opening up to me.”

It takes you a minute, but you finally allow him in. You wrap your arms around him, you let yourself cry for the first time since you were a child, for the first time in front of anyone since you were an infant, you allow yourself to finally grieve, to cry, to feel.

And you welcome it, with open arms.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #getou x reader #getou x y/n #getou x you #suguru getou x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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wintfleur · 6 months

Note

i’m sure these are things that you’ll write about/touch on eventually but i’ll just send in my initial thoughts regardless-

how do they get together?

does the public ever find out about it themselves? (even though juliette is private abt relationships)

what’re the dynamics like between them?

how do they tell their families they’re all a thing?

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

a/n ﹒ Hi nonnie and yes I will be talking about most of these in the future, strictly because I’m honestly not too sure on how I’m going to have everything play out because I’m still planning things !! So like I said, I am still working on this, so the answers may change in the future !

also omg i totally misread ‘how did they get together’ to ‘how did they meet’ . . . besides I wanna keep that as a surprise for now x

𐙚 Auston introduced Juliette and Mat at a party in 2021 and there was obviously some sexual tension between them but nothing happened . . . okay maybe a small kiss on a balcony was shared but that was it . . . Juliette met Quinn when she went to a Canucks game in 2021, they met before the game when her manager and the Canucks Pr agent wanted her and Quinn to meet up and film a small video (meeting, Quinn giving her his signed jersey) In my au, Mat and Quinn are best friends, they have known each other for years.

𐙚 I do want the public to find out about them! I’m just not sure how that’s going to happen yet. I do know that the fans do have suspicions from the soft launches, like the faceless pictures she posts for the boys and the faceless pictures of her that they post. the public already knows that Quinn and Mat are best friends so it’s not strange to see them posting each other . . . Some fans think Juliette is with Mat and some think she’s with Quinn, some fans think Mat and Quinn are together . . . it will be a shocker when they find out there all together! . . . Julie has gotten a big amount of hate throughout the soft launch era because some fans can tell that there are two different boys in her pictures.

𐙚 I will be saying more of their dynamics in there couple profile. But I see Mat as being the more dominant one in the relationship, and Quinn being a switch while Julie is more of a sub leaning switch. Mat and Quinn are both talkers, while Julie listens. They are all big spoons and little spoons, it’s always changing. Mat’s love language is physical touch, Quinn’s love language is words of affirmation, and Juliette’s is gift giving. Two tall bf’s and a shorter gf.

𐙚 I feel like Mat and Quinn’s family already knew about them before they told them, and when they did, they were very supportive and happy for them. Julie’s family were shocked at first because they didn’t expect it, but they were also very supportive. I think k they would tell there family’s on there own, it’s something new and they aren’t so sure on what there family’s reactions would be, so they wanted to do it themselves just in case.

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker )

©️WINTFLEUR

#🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤎୧˚ Juliette’s lovers #💌julietteleclerc!#mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #mat barzal x oc #Mathew barzal x oc #quinn hughes x oc #nhl x oc

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disillusioneddanny · 2 years

Text

Eloped in Space Part Four

Dick Grayson had never felt so utterly betrayed in his entire life. Bruce? Married? And he didn’t even tell Dick? He wasn’t even invited to the wedding! How could his adoptive father do this to him? And that had to be a typo, maybe the twink was 20 but–what was better? His father marrying someone who was 200 hundred years old or someone who was 20 years old? He had kids older than 20! It would be so fucking weird for Bruce to marry someone so young.

It was also, unfortunately, something he could one hundred percent see his father doing. Regardless, the vigilante had made the trip from Bludhaven to see the twink and see what the actual fuck was wrong with Bruce.

“What do you think is going on?” Jason asked, falling into step with his older brother as they started towards the manor door.

“No clue. I’m more confused than anything,” Dick admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Jason frowned but nodded in agreement. Alfred opened the door for them, his face pale white.

“Alfie? Are you okay?” Jason asked, brow furrowed.

“Apologies, Master Jason. I think that I may still be in shock,” he murmured, stepping back to let the boys in. “Everyone is in the sitting room already.”

“So, he’s actually married?” Dick asked, eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

Alfred nodded. “Yes, Master Daniel is quite an interesting being, I must say. But, I have never seen Master Bruce as happy as he is right now. Not even when he was a child, it’s odd.”

“Daniel?” Jason asked.

“He prefers to go by Danny,” Steph said, coming out of the sitting room, a wide grin on her face. “He’s amazing and I love him so much. Damian has stabbed him at least five times and Danny hasn’t even blinked!”

“What?”

“I think it’s a game now. He keeps speaking to Danny in different languages and is getting angrier and angrier every time Danny responds. Honestly, this is the best thing Bruce has ever done.”

Dick and Jason shared a confused look before following the girl into the sitting room where the rest of their family was waiting. On a large couch sat Bruce and a young man who looked no older than 25 sat together, Bruce had his arm wrapped around the man’s waist, a fond smile on his face. Danny was currently waving his arms wildly as he told a story to his captive audience.

“Anyway, and that was the day I learned that I am faster than the Flash and I just think that this is impressive,” Danny said with a grin. Bruce just let out a fond chuckle before he glanced up at the brothers.

“Darling,” he murmured, tugging on his ear lightly. “Everyone is here now.”

Danny looked away from the bats and grinned at Dick and Jason. He quickly stood and bound towards the brothers. “Richard! Jason!” He exclaimed before he stopped in his steps. “Oh Moonbeam, you’re right. Jason is very contaminated, we’ll have to fix that,” he said before his eyes flashed a familiar Lazarus green. Jason immediately took a step back from the man and shot Bruce a startled look.

“What the fuck? You talked about us to some stranger?”

Danny pouted. “No, he barely said anything except the bare bones explantations. But, I do know that you reek of contaminated ectoplasm which makes sense if you took a dip in what my Starlight calls Lazarus Waters,” Danny said, tilting his head to the side as he observed the vigilante with those frightening green eyes. “Anywho, Richard Grayson, also goes by Dick, detective by day Nightwing by night. Avid lover of puns and former gymnast. It’s nice to meet you,” he said with a small smile, two little fangs sticking past his lip. He then looked at Jason. “Jason Todd-Wayne. Died and came back to life, former crime lord, current Red Hood. Interesting fascination with guns that has Bruce slightly concerned. It’s nice to meet you both, I’m Bruce’s husband, Danny. You guys can call me Danny or if you feel so inclined, call me Dad. I don’t care,” he said with a grin before he pulled the two into tight hugs.

He skipped back to Bruce and slipped his hand back into his husbands and leaned in close. Bruce just gave the man a dazzling smile before he looked at his children and pseudo children. “I know that you all must have a lot of questions. This is a rather big change, so Danny and I will do our best to answer them to the best of our ability.”

“How did you meet Danny?” Steph asked, practically frothing at the mouth at the couple. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She had never seen Bruce so happy, so soft! He was like a different person.

Danny smiled and shrugged. “I needed some help investigating some pools of ectoplasmic waste that had made it into these realms and Bruce was apparently the only Justice Leaguer who was insanely knowledgeable on them. He kept calling them Lazarus Waters though and I was so confused,” he said with a laugh.

“Wait-what did you want with the waters?” Jason asked, brow furrowed.

At this Danny’s smile widened even further, looking just a little less human. He looked at Bruce. “Should I show them?”

The man shrugged his shoulders. “Darling, our family is made up of detectives. If you don’t, they’ll just start investigating you,” he said with a mirthful smile.

Danny nodded and two large rings of light surrounded Danny before he shifted into a new form. Gone was the gangly twenty something year old and his place sat a large, looming being. Danny’s hair turned stark white, his fangs elongated, eyes shone Lazarus green. He was the definition of eldritch horror with his too long claws and green skin. He was a nightmare.

“Holy fuck,” Jason whispered, eyes landing on the crown with blue flames that licked up in the air. His knees nearly buckled beneath him as he stared at the being, something in his very soul telling him to bow. It took everything in his being to not do so.

“This is High King Phantom, king of the Infinite Realms and ruler of the dead,” Bruce said with a smug smile. “And my husband.”

“Danny, you’re too bright,” Duke whined, covering his eyes from the bright green glow that emitted from Danny’s form. Danny let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly shifted back into his human form and ran over to Duke.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I’ll try not to do that again, I can’t promise anything but I’ll figure out a way to turn down the brightness!” He exclaimed, hands hovering over Duke as though he didn’t know what to do.

Duke gave him an awkward smile. “It’s okay, really,” he said. “I’ll just make sure to wear sunglasses or something next time.”

Danny grinned and nodded before patting Duke’s head and sat next to Bruce once more. “Anyway, as the High King, my job is to investigate any and all issues that have to do with the Infinite Realms. One of those realms is the Ghost Zone where there is this substance called ectoplasm. It’s supposed to look like this,” he said before letting the ectoplasm pool in his hand. “It’s what flows in my veins as well as most ecto-entities. It’s not supposed to exist in this universe. When I learned of the Lazarus Waters and realized that they were giant pools of contaminated ectoplasm I realized that I needed to shut it down and fast. I knew that this dimension had the Justice League as like earth’s mightiest heroes or something like that so I went to them to learn about what they knew of the waters. So with the help of Bruce, we went on a mission to get rid of them completely.”

“The Lazarus Waters are gone?” Damian blurted out, surprise etched into his face.

Danny smiled. “No one is allowed immortality without permission from me. Not only that, but that is not how ectoplasm is meant to be used,” he said with a shrug. “So yes, they’re gone.”

“How did Ra’s react?” Tim asked with a frown. Danny frowned and looked to Bruce in confusion.

The vigilante chuckled. “He was beyond livid. Tried to kill Danny and even attempted to use some spell to force Danny into his slave,” he said.

“Oh! Stinky guy? Yeah, he’s dead,” Danny said with a grin. “Dead and in Walker’s prison for the rest of eternity.”

“What happened to Bruce’s no killing rule?” Dick asked, frowning.

At this Bruce’s face fell, turning into an annoyed scowl. “Trust me,” Danny said with a laugh. “We had a very long talk afterwards that killing is bad and then I told him that as the king of the dead I can decide who enters my realm whenever I want. I’m what you humans call a God,” he said with a sharp grin. “As much as I love my sweet Sunbeam, he cannot stop me from deciding who lives and who dies.”

@mynameisnotlaura @neverlandingbird @angelheartgamer @connorsbonez @quietlyscared @kgne-k @namichanth @magificence12 @alinmenttreasure @phantomskeep @themirrorghost @dragonmoon2995 @numbuh-7-knd @blacksea21090 @blankliferain @avenInfear @rentatsunagi @bytheoldwillowtree @michikoy-yuki @aro-acedumbass @legowerewolf @justwannaseesomebrozawa @starscreamlover @undead-essence @skulld3mort-1fan @random-shit-writing @yinari-uchiha @dragongoblet @lesling123 @ascetic-orange @pastalavistamf @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @drowningroane @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @daemonlogical @jogjosmowwdkfs @markus209 @fox-sama97 @that-one-goblin @immakittybear @the-legal-shipper @blackstar-gazer @spoopyspoony @mj-arts-n-stuff @cloudminder

#dc x dp #danny fenton #bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne x Danny Fenton #dead bat #dc x dp au #dc x dp crossover #Danny Phantom #Batman #Eldritch Danny Fenton #eloped in space #dis writes #pop writes

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slapjacq · 3 months

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I am ill. Not okay. I’ve cried and thrown a tissue box at the wall. Then proceeded to scream at said wall for twenty minutes. Yes I am melodramatic, no I don’t care. I am still in therapy for a reason. Nevertheless, this episode was bonkers, off the wall batshit insane. Like genuinely so good that it almost adds to the tragedy of it all.

Here are my immediate and unfiltered thoughts from my post episode freak out that I have to put somewhere because if I don’t, I will, in fact, explode.

Warning: spoilers up the wazoo, a lot of profanity

First and foremost: Daniel, old Maniel, I can count on you to always keep it a buck, and for that I thank you.

Armand you piece of fucking shit I swear on everything that is holy, you are no longer babygirl, you bitch ass hoe, go stick that fucking doe eyed face up someone else ass you stupid fucking piece of shit. “i cOULD nOt pReVEnt iT” FUCK YOU MEAN YOU COULDNT PREVENT IT YOURE 500 YEARS OLD, YOU SOLD THEM OUT TO BEGIN WITH. YOU STOP TIME, CAN CONTROL BODIES, PLANT IDEAS INTO PEOPLE HEADS, READ PEOPLES MINDS AND THE BITTY BABY VAMPIRE ARMAND COULDNT DO ANYTHIGN ABOUT IT? SUCK MY DICK AND KISS ME MERRY GO TRH THAG SHIT ELSEWHERE (shout out Assad for really giving his all with the whole puppy dog eyes this entire episode 10/10 would fall for them if not the circumstances). I can’t believe I actually was defending this dude a few episodes ago, I literally can’t defend anything else from here moving forward.

Claudia and Madeline deserve to watch these assholes burn and the fact they died such painful deaths should warrant the gods to set the sky alight with constellations of their love. They were allowed NOTHING but a small taste of happiness before it was shredded away from them. No one is EVER gonna villainize them, not to me, not ever. Roxanne absolutely was incredible, and Delainey, in the coming future, better up there as an A-list actor because she has been that astoundingly good. (That goes for everyone here honestly, but Delainey and Roxanne really deserve their flowers here).

Santiago has a special place in hell. I simply cannot wait to watch him die. Decapitation is too kind for him, put him through pain and fury before sending him to hell. Ben Daniels you son of a bitch you played the villain so well. I damn near jumped through the screen when he began to read Claudia’s diaries with a shitty NOLA accent, I have never been so livid in my life.

The rest of Theatre: “All of you motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow.” -Tupac Shakur

Louis GET UP LEAVE YOUR WIFE DUDE YOU KNOW ITS BULLSHIT and honestly I’m not even going to rag on him this episode because the poor man has gone through too much. Jacob was absolutely brilliant in all of this, and honestly I literally will never stop talking about the performances in this show. Regardless, the upcoming rage is justified and I when get to watch him massacre these assholes, I will cackle with the same glee a schoolboy has after he disintegrates ants with a magnifying glass.

And finally Lestat. He rose on the third day and served cunt and made me ball like the mommy issues toting bitch I am. Sam, my man, you knocked it out of the fucking ballpark. Magnificent. Lestat, fucking bastard. You messy bitch. When you get out of whatever the Theatre is doing to you big man, I better see you read Armand to filth. I better see the same from the other. They both deserve to be dragged to hell and back.

Also Daniel Hart is a genius, just really fills your soul with dread this entire episode, I mean the score was filthy, vivid, and hauntingly gorgeous. The violins at the beginning were nasty work and had me fully hypnotized for the entire 50 minutes.

SFX is killing it, everytime, making it all believable and absolutely the worst someone could imagine it to be. I full body contorted at the sight of the sliced ankles.

Shoutout costume department also did its thing. Santiago’s costume was top tier camp. And Lestat’s suit was absolutely everything. Gender envy 11/10.

I could sit here all day and go on about how all the cast and crew did a fucking fantastic job. Like you can really tell they put their heart and soul into this episode.

I mean dear god I’m going to be in shambles for the next two years this episode was insane.

#no I am in shambles #I feel like I just got thrown into the fucking rat box #when I catch you rolin James #I am out for blood #for legal reasons this is a joke #iwtv #iwtv s2 #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #iwtv season 2

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the-au-collector · 5 months

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So I just watched the new Missing Link cutscenes (here's the video I watched if anyone wants to see them too) and I am having Thoughts so let's dump them here shall we?

Player is just... confused. They just seem so confused in every scene they're in and I love it

I really want to talk about the Baroque Society. It seems like Square is going for a sort of "underdogs" vibe for them. They're small, they're tight-knit (?), they're clearly looked down upon by the higher ups (those scientists did not seem happy that they needed to be called to action).

I'm having mixed feelings about Neptune (also I'm assuming Nept is short for Neptune). On one hand, I love him so much. On the other hand, he seems just a little shady. What are his motives? I'm reluctant to believe any higher ups in this world have good intentions. Idk, I'm keeping an eye on him for now. That said, I love every scene he's in he's probably my favorite so far.

Freya's Japanese voice is kind of annoying to me, but otherwise she seems fine. She's the one giving all the information, but I do like the billboard she's by. I know Nomura said she's not related to Ephemer (which I still think she is), but I could (also) see her being related to the other silver-haired characters we know, like Riku or Hermod and Baldr maybe?

"You took in another one, didn't you?" Freya said that in the scene where Player joins the Baroque Society. "Another one?" Did Neptune pick up Brain too? Honestly I think it would be a complete mind fuck for Brain if Neptune did because now we have 5 kids running their own show, probably about to cause some big chaos...

On first watch it seems like these Societies act like guilds rather than unions, but when rewatching the scenes I realize the scientists say "the founters' societies" so maybe they're more like Unions than I initially thought. Also interesting they said founders, not founder. Regardless, this begs the question of why the Baroque Society is so small and shabby?

I'm loving the theory that Lea is descended from Remus but I'm really worried about why Remus didn't reappear. We can't get tragic siblings this soon can we?

Society Legal Investigations Committee... wonder what that is

Player is so confused but so happy to be part of the Baroque Society

I don't really have much to say about the scientists themselves, but the fact that we keep cutting to them makes me believe they're going to be very important.

The silver haired strangers... Ephemer's descendants perhaps? I'm guessing since they're very shady that they planted the dark thing Nept got from the guards into the Guards' minds... yeah we're going to have some interesting things going on in this game.

That's all I can think of for now but the gears in my brain are turning so hard, and I have some theories, especially about Remus. I'll spare you the theorizing until I get my thoughts in order though

#kingdom hearts #missing link #khml #khml spoilers #missing link spoilers #spoilers #kh remus #kh nept #kh neptune #kh freya #kh player

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 5 months

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OC interview

Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck here and @leahnardo-da-veggie here!

Rules: answer questions as one of your OCs!

This time, I think I'll go ahead and do Lexi!

Are you named after anyone?

“Not that I'm aware of. My parents just really liked the name Alexia. And honestly, I can't blame them! It's a good name. I mean, there are so many variants on the name Alexander. Like I could've gotten Alexandra but that seems a little...I dunno, much? Much. Alexis doesn't...feel right. For me, like, I think Alexandra and Alexis are fine names for people who aren't me. Regardless, I definitely prefer the name Lexi. Alexia feels a little awkward to be called on, like, a regular basis. Again, for me. I'm rambling. The point is, no, I don't think I'm named after anyone.”

When was the last time you cried?

“This morning. I couldn't find my pink pen. Yeah, I know it seems stupid and immature to cry over a pen, but, like, it wasn't like I was upset that my pen was missing, it was the fact that I was stressed over losing it because my pink pen is used to color-code my English assignments. And there's a lot of English assignments, y'know?”

Do you have kids?

“I am in middle school. Middle. Schoooool. Who's even thinking about romance? That'll come with time. Like, high school. And kids much later. Like, after college. I don't have to worry about that right now.”

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“I dunno. I don't have a record. Sometimes?”

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

“...everything? I dunno, I look at them, and I see them. The whole of them. Is this an attraction question? I already said I was in middle school! I guess height. Like if I look at them, it's either up, down, or straight ahead. Height.”

What’s your eye colour?

“My eyes are brown. Not much to say about them. They're pretty dark brown. My sister has bright blue eyes that really standout against her skin and hair. I'm not jealous, actually, it's just an observation. I happen to like my dark eyes!”

Scary movies or happy endings?

“Happy endings, of course! I love a good happy ending. I mean, sad endings make me sad. Scary movies can have happy endings, I guess. This is a strange question haha. But happy endings.”

Any special talents?

“Well, I am first chair, first violin in my orchestra class! I think I'm a good leader. Usually take the lead on group projects. Um...oh, duh, I play the violin. And I also can organize stuff really well. Good color sense, I've been told. Uh, I gotta garden! It's small, but I wanted to have an out doorsy activity. Brings my anxiety down.”

Where were you born?

“Uh...here in Texas, I think. At least that's what I was told. *Gasp* There's a chance I was born in Alium! I need to ask my pia about that...”

Do you have any pets?

“No. I wouldn't mind one! A dog or a cat would be awesome. Maybe both!”

What sort of sports do you play?

“I don't actually play sports. There'd be a few issues to convince those in charge, anyways, to get me a different uniform. I have haphephobia - I don't like people touching me - and the more skin I show the higher the risk and my anxiety goes up more. So for now, no, we don't want to deal with that. I ride my bike sometimes. If I were to play a sport, it would be either volleyball or tennis, and definitely cheerleading - those girls are so nice!”

How tall are you?

“I am 5'1, meaning I'm about average for my age!”

What was your favourite subject in school?

“Oh! English! I like learning new words - I always have. Phonics may have been my favorite in elementary school! We don't do that a lot anymore, but we still learn a lot more about language. Also, may be biased because all my friends are in my class this year. Well, not all of them. Three of them. Mr. Flanagan also let us choose our groups at the beginning of the year, so I'm always with them!”

What is your dream job?

“I. Am in. Middle school. Why would I be thinking that far? *Sigh* I guess...I dunno, maybe journalism or counseling? I feel like that'd be fun.”

Other interviews: Wade, Jazlyn, Gwen

Other Lexi: OC in fifteen, OC in three, OC questionnaire, two truths and a lie, Picrew, blank bingo

Tagging @somethingclevermahogony @melpomene-grey @squarebracket-trickster @writernopal @writeintrees

@winterandwords @ceph-the-ghost-writer @elizaellwrites @tabswrites

+ anyone else who'd like to play!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites @nebula--nix

Blanks below cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?

^ for easy copy/paste

#the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #lexi morgan #oc interview #oc tag game #my oc #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community

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kroosluvr · 4 months

Text

sorry i feel bad for ranting on """Main"" i guess though i kinda keep this more of apersonal blog than a very polished art blog thing. under the cut

things wld be easier if i was just an oc-centric artist (which i kinda am but only to myself in my head) but it Is how it is at this point (i want to draw my ocs more but they never turn out the way i want) and theres just so much i want to draw for the silly little media franchises that happen to capture my stupid little heart and etc.

ahhhhhhhhhhhh ifeel stupid for loving too much or whatever. i dont want to throw a pity party over this either because in the end its just "who cares LOVE WHAT U LOVE DRAW WHAT U WANT" right but in the moment i feel stupid and it sucks and i hate it actually!!!!!!! and i WILL in fact keep drawing hwat i want and what makes me happy but like idkidkdidkgkhw

sometimes i cant help thinking if i was a better artist.,, like more artistically skilled........ would people really say the things they do about the things i draw

^ (Authors note: no one has been mean about the stuff i draw just. side comments i guess lol. from my friends though and not random people . so its harder to just brush off i guess)

like maybe im just not good enough yet. which is fine. spite is actually a really good drawing proponent. but its also just like . when will it be enough to be worth it? will it be worth being my friend now if im a good artist? if i draw what you want? ...........................

its obviously not discounting the people who really enjoy my art style adn what i draw regardless (which im soooo so grateful for bc i never like expect anyone to stick around sicne my fixations change like the wind) but its like... these r the people i spend the most time with . and it sucks. i have to. second guess what i say and what i type and just. ok like i know its not that serious either but i hate it i really dont like it (<- im also just socially anxious if u cant tell)

and its also like i cant just extract myself from my friend group for a while to kinda cool off (read: muster the courage to be an idiot in front of them again) bc ummmmm um i dont have many friends . they are kind of all i got. (which is nice i like small circles(?) im not good at opening up to people.) and i do admire and like them very much but then i just feel like i get bit in the ass all the time (This past month) with shit like this i guess

and honestly like. well half the reason i keep switching fixations is BECAUSE of stuff like this where i feel self conscious of """"Being obsessed"""" over One thing so much so i just immediately switch tracks so fast but its just a cycle (Which i dont see as a bad thing tbh? it keeps my art moving and things fresh so like.)

And honestly i dont really try to . be too vocal about. fandom? stuff? when im with my friends? unless they bring it up first? i got burnt so many times with my vtuber interests so like lol ive Learned. but maybe it slips out too much? bruh. my bad i guess

i have to stop thinking abt this man.., why has this happened to me so many times this past month lol its kind of ridiculous

(Im sure they dont like. mean it. right? ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, if they actually meant it and want me to shut up then they should just actually say so right.,

i just want to draw . its not going to stop me from drawing but damn does it really like rain on my parade or put a dent in my fender or whatever other sayings that i cant think of right now

in the end i really REALLY appreciate frm the very very bottom of my heart everyone that even remotely likes/appreciates my art (especially the persona stuff nowadays bc thats what im mainly pouring all my mental and physical and emotional into) like i really really mean it. because this stuff like my silly comics and stuff is really stuff i make for purely my own heart and just what i want to see kinda. and so it just makes me feel really warm that people also want to see it and keep seeing it and love it and everything like that. and, with all this kind of negative stuff going on i just go back and reread tags and comments and stuff and i feel encouraged to keep going and draw more and everything like that. so like really, truly, thank you. i really never thought so many people would like the stuff i make. even if its not really artistically good, or really deeply interesting, im really happy it could be something special to people out there

#cele talks #sorry for . waves hands . this

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sarahjtv · 2 months

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Thank you, My Hero Academia

Today, August 4th in the West and August 5th in the East, the My Hero Academia or Boku No Hero Academia manga has finally ended after 10 years of serialization in Weekly Shonen Jump with 430 chapters total.

It still doesn't feel real, but it is. I finished reading the final chapter a little over an hour ago and I can say that I am very happy with this ending. The only real complaint I have now is that I wish Horikoshi gave us more chapters for the epilogue to give us more content. The 5 chapter epilogue we got was definitely rushed in some parts, but we should still be blessed we got those 5 chapters at all because I cannot tell you how many times mangaka shortened their epilogues to 1-2 chapters, and then that's it. Apparently he has a lot of pages left in the final Volume to fill in, so we’ll see if Horikoshi will expand on things when it releases in early December. For how it was as a final chapter, it's was near perfect.

Having Izuku become a teacher at UA was a great alternative to becoming a Pro Hero after the embers of OFA faded away. Teachers inspire their students to strive forward and follow their dreams. If he wasn't going to be a Pro Hero, being a teacher at his Alma Mata is a great consolation prize. Thankfully, that dream of Izuku's didn't die.

Izuku did so much for the world and the people around him for that 1+ year that it was going to give something good back to him somehow. Though it took 8 years, thanks to his friends supporting him all the way through, he is able to continue living his dream as a Hero with his friends by his side. Considering the fact that All Might's Iron Might suit cost most of his fortune, I gotta wonder how much it cost to make Izuku's support suit. Shoto, Momo, and Iida are all rich thanks to their family's inheritance, but I'm sure everyone else had to save up a shit ton of cash to get this project done ESPECIALLY BAKUGO! I'm glad they got there in the end anyway.

And seeing our beloved kids as adults (I think they're 24-25 now) leading the way for a better world is so satisfying to see. I love all their upgraded looks and outfits too! I hope we get more details about them in the upcoming Fan Book and Art Book next year! Honestly, I'm going to miss this entire cast even Mineta of all people. Horikoshi clearly put a lot of love and care into each one of his characters no matter how small of a role they played. I saw these kids and even adults grow into amazing people and heroes for the better part of the last decade and saying goodbye to them is like saying goodbye to a good friend.

Despite its problems, this story will always hold a special place in my heart. It was a beacon of hope for me over the past 6-ish years and I'd argue that it saved my life when my life was in the pits. It still is today in a way. I can't give My Hero Academia an honest rating without bias kicking in hard, but I think this is one of the best manga that Shonen Jump had to offer. I'm so glad Horikoshi got to end his story on his own terms and ended up being one of THE most successful mangaka in modern WSJ. He deserves everything good that ever comes to him. Please don't ruin that for us, sir lol.

Regardless, thank you, Kohei Horikoshi. Thank you for telling this incredibly special story of a young boy who became the greatest hero and how everyone can be a hero Quirkless or not. I will forever be grateful for what you brought to me and I will cry happy tears as I say goodbye. I hope you take a long, deserving break for now. I look forward to whatever you have in store for this world next.

#my hero acedamia #boku no academia #mha 430 #bnha 430 #izuku midoriya #deku #kohei horikoshi #finale #final chapter #thank you #thank you for everything #goodbye for now #I will miss you #weekly shonen jump #manga #congratulations #*happy crying*#🥲

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sloppysequinz · 16 days

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I think Miss Chappell would have a lot to say about your post with the tags 👀🥲 but regardless, I’m sorry your man is standing in the way of your happiness and not supporting it. You deserve better girl

Look I know you probably meant well by this, but honestly fuck off. Just because I made a vent post about having different kinks and a different perspective on relationships than my fiancé doesn’t mean you know a single thing about my relationship.

“Standing in the way of my happiness”? What the fuck? This man has done nothing but build my happiness. “Not supporting it” this man has given me support that you fuck-os on tumblr could only dream of. I post about ONE thing on here, and that’s all you see of me. What the fuck would you know about supporting my happiness? You don’t even know who I am.

Yes, I am sad that I had to miss out on some kink in my life, but that’s the choice I made when I committed to a monogamous relationship with the man that I love. We both contribute to the shape of our relationship, our boundaries are set by both of our desires, not just mine. That’s the choice I made and I would happily make it again. It is a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of my life.

I just want to be able to post on here about the mild downsides of that choice without being judged by immature know-nothings like you. I don’t need to deserve better because I already have the best.

#asked and answered #this made me irrationally mad #I love my fiancé so much

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pavo-ocxllus · 2 years

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❝ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐧—𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠-? ❞

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡… two men who's share a single brain cell decides to give you their jersey in the most unconventional way possible 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠… atsumu miya x gn!reader, shoyo hinata x gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠… fluff, second-hand embarrassment, 1.9k words (atsumu: 0.9k, hinata: 1k) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬… sweaty atsumu = menace atsumu, definitely not realistic lololol, i guess it's suggestive?? it won't be in the rated-r tag; coming from a volleyball player, [name] mentions a play atsumu did that i'm not sure is entirely possible 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭… after who knows how long, i finally found the inspiration to write slightly based on this (https://youtu.be/71G7IXjUx6U) video of ronaldo giving a fan his jersey! you could also think of this as sort of a sequel to this post, just with different characters! happy late new year and pretend i didn't disappear for a bit <3

𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚. ･ﾟ: *. — 宮侑

the victorious sentiment echoed in the stadium, the cheers specifically belonging the crowds adorned in gold and black. the match between the msby jackals and the ejp raijin had finally concluded, with the jackals coming out on top.

the thing about atsumu was that no matter what—once he gets into your life, he never seems to get out of it. you thought taking a job as a manager for the raijin (which, last time you checked, their home location was definitely not in osaka) would finally get you to part ways with the setter and heal from the obviously unrequited puppy crush that grew out of hand.

unfortunately, the japanese volleyball world seemed to be quite small, considering the numerous times the two teams went against one another. well, perhaps it was good luck for you; you weren't exactly ready to let him go as a friend yet.

(in your opinion, the word 'friend' was a bit of a stretch, but your point remained standing.)

atsumu, like always, was one of the players that were the center of attention in all his sweat-drenched glory; honestly, it was quite difficult not to notice him.

so, after congratulating the opposing team's manager and coach, you decide to be the good sportsmanship-like person you are and praise his performance (as well as stretch his already over-inflated ego... but it wouldn't be that bad, right?)

"miya-kun!" you called out once he was finished talking to some interviewers, running up to him when he acknowledged your presence with that stupidly big grin of his. once you eventually stood before him, it was as if the words you were mentally preparing yourself to say we're stuck in your throat. "y-you did great today!"

"didn't i tell 'ya to call me atsumu? 'ya know i'm not gonna let 'ya call me that when 'samu and i are in the same room, so why stop there?"

you flushed at the forwardness, though you respected his wishes regardless. "well then... atsumu-kun, you did great!"

he arched his neck back with his hands stationed at his hips, laughing for a while at how swiftly you corrected your "mistake."

"wow," the setter chuckled a bit before finishing with a cocky smirk. "didn't think i woulda had one of my fans be a manager for the raijin, out've all people."

you froze a bit slightly for some reason, but found yourself relaxing not long afterward. he never seemed to change. sometimes, you forget he's just as dorky as ever. you didn't hold back from comparing it to volleyball—he still played the same way as he did in high school.

"well, of course i am, atsumu," you've stated blankly, as if this were and obvious fact. before hearing those words fall out, the blond's head drifted slightly to study a nearby team warming up for a match. however, when he finally registered it in his head he widened his eyes, doing a double take. "you've come a long way from high school... and that rally when you faked a dump, a set, yet actually dumped was nothing short of incredible-"

not bearing to let you incessantly compliment him despite it being only five seconds, the man interrupted. "yeah, yeah... i know, i'm amazin', aren't i? is it gettin' hot in here? personally... i think they should tone down the heater right about now, heh."

you noticed that? was along the lines of the blond's thoughts as he tried to cool down the burning red on his face, blazing across his cheeks. the announcers kind of brushed it under the rug, much to his chagrin, yet it wasn't a big deal that he was noticed. why did you make it a big deal? most importantly, why did he?

"atsumu!" you called out, breaking him out from his thoughts by perching your hand on top of his shoulder. "you're heating up and spacing out... i know i'm not the jackals' manager but you really have to start lookin' out for yourself. though, i suppose it's kind of warm in here..."

"'ya know what? you don't gotta get me to the infirmary, [name]-san. it's scorchin' in here!"

not paying attention to the somewhat cryptic wording, your eyes bounced around the arena, attempting to find the quickest route to get atsumu taken care of. "right, just follow me okay—oh my god."

it all happened too fast—you swore he was wearing a shirt a few seconds ago, and now it was held snugly around his arms before he practically shoved it into your hold.

rather than resting your focus on his defined figure (though, to be fair, you couldn't but sneak a glimpse of it), your eyes were trained on his damp, black and gold jersey, displaying the number in bold font: 13. a part of you didn't even feel the least bit disgusted at the admittedly gross gesture, you simply were standing there, paralyzed in the sheer audacity of it all.

"i- atsumu, there's no way i can-"

"anythin' for a fan, am i right?" he smirked, paying no heed to suddenly grabbing the attention of various newscasters not to far from you two.

deciding to escalate the situation even further, he added something else to the conversation in a lower tone. "if 'ya want, i can give 'ya my shorts, too."

winking at you and flashing his teeth, you couldn't help but feel the urge to turn in your two weeks' notice.

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚. ･ﾟ: *. — 日向翔陽

the awe of the crowd watching the tiniest player in the msby jackals soaring above his teammates and opponents couldn't even come close to holding a candle to your own expression.

it's only amazing to see that he's come so far... you remember when you first discovered HINATA on that low-quality, youtube video you discovered when searching for nothing in particular attempting to fill the void of having absolutely nothing better to do. even at his debut, even at the clumsiness he initially felt during the beginning of the match, you could feel that there was pure passion and skill behind it all.

when you heard that the infamous ninja-shoyo was coming to japan and made the msby black jackal's starting lineup, you knew you just had to purchase a ticket for one of his games as soon as your busy, hectic life would let you. and now here you are, already have been to seventeen of his games (and counting!) managing to somehow score the same seat in the middle of the stadium, particularly on the side with the gold and black team playing.

the excitement coursing in your veins still remained even after 30 minutes since the match had concluded. the little grin on your face continued to stretch as you ordered some onigiri near the food stand that had been set up right outside the volleyball court; not even the scene where one man (who, may you add, bore a strange resemblance to the owner of the food stall) and two others out of your peripheral vision were causing beside you, clamoring about how they deserve food on the house for "winning," wasn't able to break your attitude.

inevitably, your prior upbeat mood had toned down, now replaced by a strong sense of curiosity regarding the situation behind you. it was only a matter of time before you couldn't handle it, swiftly turning your head around to see what was up. though, you weren't necessarily expecting to have your eyes widen at the sight.

the blond one was somebody you recognized from the game earlier and behind him was a spiky, silver haired man, who also participated in the match. apparently, you didn't notice the obvious pattern, seeing as you still managed to widen your eyes even more when you noticed the fluff of orange hair right behind you.

for a split second, both you and hinata locked eyes, before you glanced away first. you directed your attention toward the onigiri stand, hoping that they could just hurry it up your order so you wouldn't have to stand around here for much longer-

"hey!" an unfamiliar voice called out. judging by the way it came behind you, there was an unfortunately high possibility of it being one of those three players. reluctantly, you glanced back, with the opposite hitter's eyes practically boring into yours. "didn't i see you before?"

he was met with confusion as you quirked an eyebrow. "w-what do you mean?"

you hope to the universe he didn't mean he saw you doing something embarrassing, like buying his merch in public or something of the sort.

a few moments pass, mostly consisting of hinata pondering a bit, glancing at you every now and then while looking down at his shoes trying to figure out your identity. how long was your onigiri going to take to get ready?!

"ah! i know!" hinata suddenly exclaimed, pushing the side of his fist into his palm. "you're the person i always see at our games!"

you take what you previously thought was embarrassing back—nothing compared to that tiny observation could be any more humiliating.

"bokuto-san, miya-san, i think we just found a fan!!"

"as if we don't see more than one everyday, shokkun," the blond disregarded hinata's discovery, going back to haggle the price of onigiri with the owner once more, the sounds of their bickering fading behind you.

"ah, it's your very first fan interaction!" the owl-headed one piped up—based on how loud he was, you were surprised he didn't cause an even larger scene. "they're really special, and they're regular too, which makes it super special! you should give them something!!"

ignoring the blatant display of total embarrassment shoved in your face, you noticed how hinata seemed to be thinking rather hard on this subject.

"you know what, i know what you can do!" might as well get something out of this, right? "my onigiri is taking a little while, and since your teammate seems to know the proprietor personally, maybe you can get it on the house for me-"

"i know!" the ginger-haired man interrupted your brilliant idea. regardless, you didn't say anything; you were curious what was in his mind that he believed was better than free food. "i can get you my jersey!"

you blinked owlishly, feeling the urge to cock your head to the side in confusion at the sudden outburst, only being able to muster up a, "huh?"

hinata nodded, almost excitedly. "yeah, i think that sounds good, doesn't it?"

"well, sure, but i think my onigiri would be even better-"

you suddenly sputtered, your words refusing to come out of your mouth as you watched hinata pull up his shirt, exposing his attractively toned body. understandably, not wanting attract too much attention and cause your onigiri to be even more delayed, you grabbed the hem of his jersey and yanked it down.

"i'm good! really, a selfie or something would do!" you panicked, retracting your hands away from him.

"but, wouldn't you want a jersey of your favorite player?"

"...you aren't wrong-"

"then it's settled then!" before your reflexes activated, he yanked his jersey over his head, handing it to you as he bowed. "i hope you support our team in the future!"

you weren't sure if this "souvenir" would encourage you to come to more of their games or swear off of watching volleyball ever again.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

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