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jaskierswolf · 2 years

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A Surprise Guest

A Jaskier/Reader fic!

Modern AU. Reader meets Jaskier at a party with their mutual friend Renfri.

AO3

A house warming party. The last thing you wanted to go to was the bloody housewarming party that Renfri was throwing. She’d been your best friend since childhood, but unlike you, she’d actually had a great time at University and had come back from Oxenfurt with a bunch of new friends, leaving you feeling a little left out and lonely. But she was still your best friend and you wanted to support her, even if it felt like she was leaving you behind. All you knew was that her ex and few other friends from Uni would be there, as well as a handful of your school friends. The ratio of people you knew to people you didn’t know was going to be rough, and you already had plans of escaping as early as you could. Introverts and parties simply didn’t mix.

What you really wanted was a night in with your blanket, a good cup of tea and your favourite music playing on the radio. Jaskier had just released a new album, another addition to the School of Wolf saga that had dominated the charts for the last five years. You were completely obsessed. The music was stunning, and… well… so was Jaskier. Ever since his first few shitty videos on YouTube, you'd always had a bit of a crush on him, but in your defence he was very pretty in his tight jeans, waistcoats and shirts that were never quite done up properly. Your friends loved to tease you about it, but it was just a celebrity crush... right?

But alas… you had a party to go to, so Jaskier and his new album would have to wait for a few hours whilst you were tortured by socialisation.

The walk to Renfri’s wasn’t very long but you’d probably get an Uber back after having a few drinks. You needed the walk there to clear your head and go through all the funny stories you could tell in case your usual trick of hiding in the kitchen with Renfri’s dog failed you. As you knocked on the door you felt like your heart was in your throat, ready to escape at any moment. Thankfully it was Renfri that answered the door. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, with an undercut on one side, and it was gelled messily to emphasise the streaks of red against the blonde.

She was unfairly attractive and it always made you feel inferior, but then again, your anxiety was a bitch and it didn’t take much to have your brain spiralling.

A few hours. Stroke the dog, have a drink, chat with Renfri a little bit and then home. It was manageable. There was no way you would let a party beat you. It would all be fine. Absolutely fine.

Fine.

“Renfri!! Who is it?” A familiar voice called from inside the house and you felt your eyes go wide.

That was a voice that you could recognise in the busiest of crowds. You’d spent hours upon hours listening to music and interviews and podcasts…

Jaskier.

Holy fucking shit.

“Renfri…” you said slowly, not quite believing your own ears. “Is that… Is that Jaskier?”

To answer your question, Jaskier danced into the hallway behind her. His face was flushed and his blue eyes were twinkling as he laughed, spilling his drink onto the floor.

“Surprise?” Renfri giggled with a shrug.

Oh, she was so dead.

It turned out that one Geralt Rivia was Renfri’s ex from university. The same Geralt Rivia that was Jaskier’s best friend and muse and inspiration for the School of Wolf. You knew that the relationship had ended… badly, but they were staying friends for the sake of their friendship group. It was funny now you thought about it, how many of Jaskier’s songs you recognised just from the details Renfri had told you about her ex. The fights, the arguments… the love. It had all been there in Jaskier’s music but he’d changed Renfri’s name for the sake of her privacy and you’d never even considered joining the dots. After all, love and break ups happened all over the world and Renfri’s was nothing special. Loads of people related to Jaskier’s music.

Everything felt so fucking surreal.

Jaskier Pankratz looked unbelievably hotter in person than in the photoshoots, which simply wasn’t fair. He talked animatedly to both Geralt and Renfri from his seat next to you, of all people, and you couldn’t help but stare.

No one could blame you… and if anyone did then you could blame the alcohol you’d downed as soon as you’d made it to the kitchen. There was no way you could deal with the party and Jaskier whilst sober.

Because holy shit… Jaskier.

He wore a gorgeous teal blue waistcoat and trousers, his tie and jacket discarded somewhere already, and his hair was longer than you remember from the last photoshoot. And oh, his smile. He had the same cheeky smile, and he really did light up the room.

Or take out the oxygen.

Bloody hell you couldn’t breathe. Booze. You needed more booze. Two shots weren’t enough. Fucking Jaskier Pankratz. Renfri owed you big time for springing this on you. Real people did not meet their celebrity crushes. It was reserved only for daydreams and fanfiction.

“Excuse me!” You mumbled as you rushed to get up, trying not to touch Jaskier as you moved. If you were a bit smoother and better at flirting, maybe you would have brushed against his thigh or arm but you needed out.

Now.

Behind you, you could hear Jaskier’s chiming laugh as Geralt made a joke about his pup from hell, Roach. If only Geralt had brought her with him… then maybe you would have been alright. Still, at least Grumpy was still lingering in the kitchen as he always did, the old mutt. It was a familiarity that was a godsend. You pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and slumped down onto the floor next to the dog, scratching behind his ear as you chugged straight from the bottle.

God, it was shit wine. You’d expected better from Renfri but beggars couldn’t be choosers so you grimaced and took another gulp, not noticing that you suddenly weren’t alone anymore.

"Are you alright?" Jaskier’s voice was soft and oh so gorgeous, quiet as he sat down next to you. That accent. Oh, the dreams you'd had about his voice and all the filthy things he could whisper in your ear.

“I-” You turned to face him and any words that you might have said disappeared into the void. Christ he was so fucking beautiful. “Umm…”

Love at first sight had never really been something you believed in, but then again, Jaskier had always been the exception for you. And he just looked so concerned… so human?

It was easy to forget celebrities were human when you only ever saw the photos and the interviews. Despite the amount of time Jaskier spent talking and interacting with fans on social media, you knew that you don't know him, not really.

Shit. He’d asked you a question.

"Umm.. yeah? Yeah. I'm fine. I just. This wine is pretty terrible, and I only really know Renfri and... fuck... I'm rambling," you muttered, running a hand through your hair, and desperately trying to avoid his gaze.

But Jaskier laughed, the sound making you smile in spite of everything, and reached up at the counter for a bottle of red wine; Fiorano, you noted as the bottle fell into his lap. As he moved, the scent of chamomile and lavender wafted around you. "Here, take some of mine."

With a shy smile, you nodded, emptying your glass before holding it out to him. You hoped that he would think your blush had more to do with the alcohol than the storm of emotions that were racing through you. Vodka and wine probably weren’t a good mix, especially with Jaskier in the room, but needs must.

Thankfully, Jaskier just poured you some wine. It still wasn’t your favourite, red never was, but it was more drinkable than the white shit Renfri had stashed away. Soon you felt yourself relax, the wine and vodka doing their job, and Jaskier was funny, always making you laugh. He seemed to really care about making you feel comfortable.

It didn't even occur to you that Renfri had definitely set you up after Jaskier mentioned you look pretty when he saw your picture in her phone.

But you spent the evening passing the wine bottle back and forth, getting happily tipsy, especially after Geralt shares some more of his vodka with you both as well. After coaxing you back into the living room, Jaskier had introduced you to Geralt and the other witchers, and slowly you forgot that you don't know anyone at all, because Jaskier was there, and it felt like you'd known him for forever already.

By some miracle, you ended up staying the whole evening, which just never happened at parties, but you were snuggled up to Jaskier, drunk and content. He kept playing with your hair as he hummed songs you didn’t recognise under his breath.

And you didn’t even notice when you started to drift off, feeling safe in his arms, and the press of lips against your temple had to be a dream right?

You woke up to a number tucked into your coat pocket, signed with a little doodle of a buttercup.

Jaskier had to leave for an interview, but... you knew your life would never quite be the same again.

#the witcher #jaskier pankratz #renfri of creyden #modern au #jaskier/reader #jaskier x reader #wolfie's witcher writing

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bokettochild · 3 years

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Hey I was wondering if you could write a short fic related to your story ‘the blood between us’, from Warriors PoV when Wild got taken away from him as a child

This is more of a drabble than anything, and I probably will revisit it later, but I thought I would share this little piece now.

Sorry if it isn't angsty enough, I'm running on nerves and spontaneous inspiration right now.

Link cried when he first saw his son.

Bundled up in the carefully washed scarf that Zelda had made for him years ago, his child looked so small and fragile. Sablya had smiled, weak and weary as she offered the child to him, and for half of a moment he almost refused.

Once their child was in his arms, however, there was no removing him from them.

Whisps of golden hair and a brief hint of shimmering cornflower blue eyes reflected a perfect balance of the orange sheen of his mother and the dusty blonde of his father, as well as a the mix between Royal blue and dusky silver.

Their child’s skin was mottled in a way that may have worried the two new parents, had it not been for his mother’s blood providing all the answers they could need.

He was perfect.

Link had clutched the tiny bundle close to his chest, crystal tears running down his face as his wife gently patted his arm, a smile twitching at her dark lips as she listened to the whispered promises of love and protection from her soldier husband. There was no doubt in the mind of the midwife, as the woman packed her bag and made to leave, that these two would make excellent parents.

“Why Zve-Zvee-”

“Zvezda.” Sablya correcting, the word rolling off her tongue with the same lilting of her accent that it always bore. “It mean ‘shining one’, Link.”

“And for Hylia’s sakes, you are not naming your child ‘Link’.” Grandfather had grumbled, shuddering slightly even as a sad smile pulled at his features.

“See?” Dark brows arched regally as his wife looked down at him. “Fate can not steal him if name is from realm beyond the control of goddesses themselves.”

Link had sighed and shaken his head. “I can’t even say it.”

“Then say Zvee,” Sablya chuckled, eyes lingering on the child in her arms. “It mean ‘bright’.”

“And bright he will be,” Grandfather chuckled. “I can already see him messin’ round with those contraptions yer cousin had commissioned.”

“Riding Guardians, play with runes.” Sablya chuckled. “Will master all mysteries.”

“Hey now, don’t settle too heavy of expectations on the babe’s shoulders, he’s not even babbling yet.” Link protested, reaching out for the infant in his wife’s arms only to have the other two laugh at him.

Little Zvezda, or Zvee, as Link eventually agreed to, grew fast and strong. He was a small thing, but there was never any fear for his safety. Not when Link was such a doting father, forever keeping his gaze after the child, even with Linkle’s and his wolf friend from their childhood looking out for him.

True to the family ways, the babe was active, if not a bit quiet, and there were few days when he wasn’t found wandering about, his father trailing behind and the wolf faithfully following at his side. Animals flocked to him and there wasn’t an outing where some bird or beastie wasn’t found coming closer than usual to their small infant.

He was nearly silent, slipping off and out of sight in a moment's notice. Unnaturally fast, Link had complained to Grandfather with a fond sigh, eyes trailing after his son as the boy chased after his wolf companion. He was remarkably clever; Zelda had laughed as she watched chubby fingers held twist a bolt into one of the guardians that her Sheikah researchers was working on.

“Sunshine.” Zelda cooed as she swung about the castle halls with him in her arms.

“Little Shade.” Sablya whispered as he snuck into their room in the middle of the night.

“Wild Child.” link would chuckle as he removed the babe from one or another den or grove that the babe somehow managed to sneak off too.

Zvezda was the light of Link’s life but there was no getting away with keeping his precious son to himself. Even the Guardian’s of Time, on their rare visits to the castle, had become enchanted with him. Cia and Lana would coo and laugh as the cubby toddler would explore and poke about in a manner all his own, their laughter only growing as Link had been forced to break form from the rest of the soldiers in order to chase down his offspring. He would have left Zvee at home with Sablya, only Zelda had insisted that she get to see her nephew.

Link had never been stared at with such disapproval by his commanding officer, but with his son giggling and cooing in his arms, he found that he didn’t really care.

It was the little moments that he loved the most. The moments when Sablya and he would wrap their child in Link’s scarf, for no blanket would suffice, not as far as Zvezda was concerned, which Zelda had carefully enlarged for that very purpose, songs and melodies slipping off of their tongues as they sang him to sleep.

It was moments like when Grandfather would toss Zvee into the air, shrieking giggles filling the house as Sablya watched with worry as their child soared, only to be caught by hands roughened by sea and storms but gentle as could be. Zvee would burry his hands in Grandfather’s beard just as Link had as a child, and it wasn’t uncommon to find the two fast asleep together come the middle of the day, Zvee looking for all the world like a little golden bird curled up in his great-grandfather's beard.

It was moments like when the wolf would come, Zvee hanging out of his mouth like some sort of cub, a tired expression on the canine’s face as he deposited a scraped and bruised Zvee into Link’s lap, where he would be combed and brushed, the twigs pulled from his hair and the scrapes tended as Link would scold him gently. The scoldings were quickly forgotten and the twigs would be back within hours some days, but Link could only smile and settle the child down again, repeating himself as he ran a brush through silky long locks.

Moments like when Sablya had taken their family to her own home and presented their child to her own great-grandfather, pride clear on her face as she had watched the old Hylian hold their son. Zvezda had taken to his great-great-grandfather in a way that he had never done with strangers before, but Link blamed it on the heavy furs that the man wore; Zvee was always a sucker for fluffy things.

These were the moments that he treasured the most. The simple times.

But all good things must come to an end.

A guardian can only stand to sit alone in a palace and watch the world go by for so long. Two girls locked away from the world, save on set occasions, were bound to eventually snap.

Lana had turned her loneliness and sorrow into passion as she did her best by the timeline, but Cia had allowed hers to fester, growing bitter as she watched the rest of the world find love and safety in the arms of others, left herself with no one.

Her jealousy towards the crown and her desperation for a companion that would last through time had driven her to break the vows of the Time Guardians attacking the palace and the princess within.

Link had been called to service that day, a messenger riding past their house with a message to gather at the castle, to defend the princess.

Link kissed his wife and son goodbye, eyes lingering on them for a moment as resolve stirred within. He’d defeated Malladus as a child, a corrupted Time Guardian could hardly be worse. He would be home in no time, his child in his arms and his wife by his side.

Sablya smiled at him with pride. “Kick ass.”

“Ass!” Zvezda echoed, earning his mother a sharp look from her beloved as she chuckled.

A final kiss for the each of them and he was swinging up on Epona’s back and riding out with the rest of the soldiers.

He never would have guessed that while saving a life he would be bestowed with the Triforce. Never could have guessed that in gaining the goddesses favor he would also catch the eye of a bitterly lonely woman.

He was named the Hero Incarnate before the kingdom.

Grandfather had smiled with pride, but his eyes had held a sadness that Link could not understand.

Sablya had kissed his lips, murmuring softly that the hero’s tunic suited her beloved far better than any Hylian soldiers' uniform. Zvezda had promptly pulled off his hat and attempted to put it on.

“You’ll never have to wear that thing,” Link promised that night as he pulled the long green cap from his sleeping child’s fingers. “Not on my watch, Little Zvee.”

“Thank Hylia.” Linkle giggled quietly from the door to the bedroom. “That thing looks terrible.”

He’d thrown the cap at her, making her muffle a screech as she darted out of the way, but he didn’t push further. Pride welled in his heart as he thought of the honor he had been bestowed, and that one day, his son might look to him and see a hero. It was a wonderful thought.

Being a hero was a wonderous thing.

Until it wasn’t.

Until he was waking up to a wind that shouldn’t have been there. Until he was rushing down the halls as Zvezda’s screams echoed into their room.

Sablya and he had barely burst through the door, their nightclothes hanging loose about them as their terrified gazes had turned from the empty bed to the child sliding slowly across the floor, his sleeve locked in the jaws of the golden wolf as it attempted to pull it away from the swirling dark abyss that had appeared on the far wall.

Link had darted forwards, fear pounding in his heart and hands already reaching for his son.

Zvezda’s fingers brushed against his for one heart pounding second.

There was a whooshing of the portal, a final pull fo wind and a final shriek mingling with a frightened bark.

And then there was silence.

Link cried when he first saw his son.

The night that he lost him, all of Hyrule could hear the roars of agony.

#fluffics #but sad #sort of #the blood between us #warriors is wild's dad #linked universe warriors #linked universe wild #linkeduniverse #linked universe #angst #asks #requests are open!#linked universe fic requests

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hinagamoizaf · 3 years

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Odaiba Memorial Day 2021

My first Odaiba Memorial Day while being an active part of the fandom, and it’s high time I write an essay about my crackhead obsession with Yakari.

(*There will be some swearing & f-bombs in this post) As a kid, Yamato was like the ‘blue and cooler Taichi’ to me, like he doesn’t exist without being adjacent to the gogglehead. Also my family didn’t have the full Dark Masters arc in our CD collection, so I literally knew nothing about Yams’ emotional meltdown. But now, I adore this overly sensitive dork, and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. Maybe I’m biased in this reading, but I think Yamato has had to push himself to mature faster than his peers; and he’s very much a mini-adult at a young age. For all these grand monster battles, the main cast are still children; among them Yamato is a kid dealing with a lot of unresolved issues but he’s got a lot of heart, he’s passionate about those he holds dear but he just doesn’t know how to process this. Another thing that goes hand-in-hand with Yamato is the fact he’s a musician. Again, I could be reaching way into my ass here; but there’s this mumbo jumbo real life idea of the ‘depressed creative’, and Yamato works his way out of that dangerously romanticised label. The kid’s got a passion for music, he’s literally been playing the harmonica since Takeru was in diapers .Without spoiling DA:LEK, Yamato still holds onto that flame into adulthood but it’s not something he can actively work on; and that takes its toll. I love Yamato because he’s someone who cares so much about those around him and what he does; and he’s just a kid who’ sorting things out and wanting to better himself and well fuck, if that isn’t relateable. Even with the flaws that the Tri films have, I think it’s a natural progression for Yamato’s character journey. I see people saying how ‘they just turned him into a tsundere’ or ‘he’s so snappish now’. But seeing as most of the Tri cast are in High School and general teenagers are assholes to each other, yeah it’s not unreasonable to see why Yamato’s the way he is now. He didn’t lose his touch with the Crest of Friendship; when the literal world is up in flames, there’s still the same loyal and compassionate Yamato who understands the importance of being there for and with his friends. Yamato’s a big mushy boy who has a hard time conveying what he feels and his needs; Hikari isn’t any better and this was how I grew to love the concept of them being together. She’s not the Chosen Child of Light for nothing, Hikari’s symbiotic partnership with Tailmon is a very shoehorned metaphor of being an angel from Heaven and I absolutely eat that shit up. Fans have pointed out Hikari’s so mysterious with her role and powers as late member of the team, the same can be said for her personality. You see Hikari, you think ‘sweet, little girl’ and in part thanks to the 02 dub, she grows into being this sassy brat.

A brat who has trouble asserting herself and is prone to literally get dragged into an ocean of depression. Like any respectful human, Hikari cares for her friends and family; but a mixture of that and a tendency to devalue herself is Hikari’s fatal flaw. She’s too self-sacrificing to a fault, and this reflects the other extreme end of her crest. In my own overly pretentious words, I think Hikari has self-imposed on herself for ‘being the light of the team’; like she carries herself as a doll whose job is to bring others out of darkness when she’s still stuck in the shadows herself. Hikari doesn’t allow herself to verbalise her wants, let alone her needs because she doesn’t want to inconvenience others; she just goes with the flow and puts on a mask of toxic optimism.

I am aware this analyse could be me scraping the bottom of the barrel, but it’s how I interpreted Yamato and Hikari’s character; and now I’ll articulate my brain rot with how the fuck are these two being shipped.

You have these two people who already have this history and experience of being Chosen Children, but there’s also an underlying sub-connection of them being each other’s brothers’ best friend. As many Yakari fanfics have headcanon, it’s not unreasonable to think that Yamato’s at the Yagamis’ apartment frequently because A) Taichi is his best friend and B) The Ishida apartment is prolly empty ‘cause Hiroaki’s out being a workaholic. The Yagamis become the family that Yamato didn’t have growing up, and they welcome him with open arms. At their apartment, things are warm and rowdy, he doesn’t have to be alone with his thoughts and they treat him as a second son. Listen, I've been a diehard Takari shipper too, but I genuinely think Takeru and Hikari can be platonic soulmates. They know each other like the back of their hand, they’re cosmically entwined and their Digimon are in sync; they’re also legit a pair of best friends too. I know early 2000’s fics depict Yakari as being this big drama; but I have a weak heart and I’m here to say Yakari can be cosy and comforting and they’re just two idiots in love who need to be honest with each other.

I imagine their courtship not to be this grand display of fireworks and ‘the chase’, but a very subtle experience with slow burn. For me, Yakari is very much the first blossom of spring. They represent new beginnings and youth, the gentle lull of Mother Nature tending to the earth, something that’s natural but the routine has existed for centuries. Yakari is very much a gentle love, and with everything I’ve said about their characters; these two learn to embrace and nurture the other until they have a whole garden of spring’s blossoms.

This crackship has the surface-layer appeal of ‘brooding lone wolf’ and ‘sweet angel’, so when you peel the layers to find these two very private characters who just need that one-on-one reassurance/affirmation; this ship is a warm blanket of fluff and yes that’s basically the plot of my fics. It’s the charm of slice-of-life, the endearment of growing and improving yourself with the one you love with the occasional reminder that this is a series founded on puppies evolving into angels.

I’ve had enough of tragedies and melodramatic love affairs. I write about Yakari because as cliche as this sounds, I want more stories about ‘the light of friendship’. Yes that was a god awful line, but it captures why I have brain rot for this pair. To celebrate my first OMD, I have uploaded a special chapter on my AO3 fic titled ‘Mon ange’; it wouldn’t be August 1st if I didn’t half-hazardly work on this leading up to the big day. It couldn’t fit on Instagram, but this rambling piece is part of a bigger essay on my tumblr, so that’s also up and running. I hold Digimon near and dear to my heart, and I go about sharing that love by gushing about Yakari.

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cherienymphe · 4 years

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Best Friends Forever (Fratboy!Peter Parker x Reader)

This is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor What’s Old is New Again Challenge! This fic is inspired by #18, “A gentleman is simply a patient wolf. – Lana Turner. Hope you all enjoy!

warnings: NON-CON, manipulation, roofie

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

summary: Peter Parker is your best friend. Peter Parker is your only friend. Peter wants to keep it that way.

Peter Parker was your best friend. In fact, Peter Parker was your only friend. The two of you had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. You grew up together attached at the hip, and therefore, you did everything together.

He was there, watching in awe when you pulled your first loose tooth. You did the same when he pulled his first one weeks later. You helped each other learn how to ride bikes, double dutch, and even attempt to skateboard once. The two of you had broken so many bones together that you had lost count.

You weathered middle school together and the absolute insanity that was high school. You two had been best friends all your life, and it had never been anything more than that, so you both were equally confused when catty high school girls and bored high school guys would constantly accuse the two of you of dating. It was a thought that had never crossed your minds, and it was something you often laughed about.

There were absolutely no secrets between you two, and despite that, you still found yourself completely frozen in shock as you watched Peter slip in through your bedroom window one night during sophomore year. He was covered in bruises, and the oddly familiar red and blue fit he wore had some tears. You had stumbled off of your bed, running to grab him as he struggled to stand.

Realization hit you as he leaned against your wall, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, and your eyes almost popped out of your head.

“Y-you’re Spider-Man?”

It had come out louder than you had intended, and he was frantic as he covered your mouth, begging you to keep quiet. Neither one of you slept much that night as you demanded answers from him. You remembered feeling upset and betrayed that he had been hiding something so important from you, but even worse, you felt worried.

Your best friend had been put in danger so many times while you had been none the wiser. From then on, you demanded that he pass through your house to change out of his suit before going home. Not only for it to be safe for him to get home, but to put your own heart at ease too. It gave you a sense of comfort to see for yourself that he ended the night in one piece.

It was a tough secret to keep, incredibly trying to keep your thoughts to yourself as you watched his crime fighting be reported day in and day out. It was difficult to keep your worry at bay when he was late sneaking into your bedroom or to keep yourself from crying out when he was especially hurt. You were the only one who knew the truth, and the gravity of it served to further isolate the two of you.

Peter was literally your only friend and had been for as long as you could remember. What did it matter that you had never had any girlfriends, even now during college? Sure, you had always envied that special bond some girls seemed to have with each other. Of course, it bothered you a little that you had never experienced what it was like to have a best friend who could relate to you in every single way, but Peter was plenty. Yeah, there were some things that as a guy, he would never fully be able to empathize with, but his sympathy and well intentions were enough.

Besides, having a guy best friend came with its perks. Peter understood guys way better than you could ever hope to, and he was always more than eager to give you advice. Thanks to him, you could probably call yourself an expert on them, but in the end, it never did any good. You had never had a boyfriend, never even anything remotely close. Sure, it bothered you, a lot, but in the end you were grateful.

Peter saved you from regret more times than you could count. Every guy you had ever vocalized interest in turned out to be absolute garbage. At least, that was what Peter told you, and you trusted him. He was never wrong about these things. Tristan, an upperclassman that you’d had a crush on during your freshman year, had apparently been a racist creep. James from your junior year was a party animal with anger issues. Your first year of college, you’d fallen head over heels for a literature major named Logan, but Peter had to be the bearer of bad news when he informed you that the guy had a girlfriend back home and about three more on campus.

After that, you had just given up completely. You saw no point to any of it when every guy you had ever liked turned out to be awful. In the end, Peter was truly the only one you could trust. You were beyond thankful for him, and the day you could bring a guy around with Peter’s approval was the day you would know you found a good one. Unfortunately, you were starting to think that day would never come. You dreaded the day Peter would finally get a girlfriend, because then you would truly be a lonely wreck.

You found it odd that Peter had been single all this time too. This wasn’t high school anymore. In college, girls liked guys who were smart and who read and knew how to have conversations outside of sports. Add the fact that Peter had grown to be quite attractive and had even joined a fraternity, he was a catch. So it was safe to say you didn’t get it, and told him so one night.

“I’ve just never met the right girl,” he said with a shrug, distracted.

“Oh, come on,” you scoffed in disbelief. “So many great girls have shown interest in you. What about MJ? She was tall and funny and her hair-! God, her hair.”

He snorted, a faint smirk on his lips.

“I just wasn’t into her.”

“Why not?” you wondered.

MJ was practically perfect, and you had never known Peter to be nitpicky. He just shrugged, eyes focused on his laptop as he typed away.

“Peter,” you whined. “This is just sad. One of us has to start dating soon or we’ll just end up staring at each other in our old age.”

“I’ve dated,” he said, offended as his eyes cut up to you.

You rolled your eyes, flicking your pencil at him.

“I mean dating dating, not whatever it is you and your “frat bros” do every weekend. That house has seen more girls than a gynecologist clinic,” you complained.

“You know I’m not like that,” he said, shutting his laptop and setting it aside.

While he was somewhat right, he’d still had his own fair share of fun with some of the girls who went to their parties.

“You may not be as bad as the rest of them, but you can’t fool me, Peter. Remember, there are no secrets between us,” you replied, leaning back into the couch. “When are you going to get a girlfriend?”

He didn’t answer, and you continued.

“I know you want one. You’ve mentioned it several times, and I know dozens of girls that would be thrilled to be given the chance.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you his full attention now.

“I just…haven’t found the right girl,” he lamely repeated.

You opted to leave it alone, skeptically eyeing him before reaching out to turn on the tv. You could feel Peter’s eyes on you, but he fortunately spoke before you had a chance to ask him what was up.

“To be honest…there was a time when I thought…you’d be my girlfriend,” he quietly confessed, almost like he was afraid of your reaction.

You looked at him, shock and disbelief coursing through you. A humorless chuckle left your lips.

“You’re kidding…”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were completely serious.

“No, I’m not. It was senior year of high school and… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I know we were teased about it for years and the idea was crazy to us, but one day…I realized that you were the person I was closest to in the world…and I wanted to be closer.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in awe as you listened to this confession. You had never known, and you wondered how you could have missed it. What kind of friend were you?

“It was the only secret I ever kept from you…”

You turned to fully look at him.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He shrugged, dark eyes studying you.

“I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I just forced myself to let it go. And I did,” he answered.

He was right. You had never felt the same way, and you started to wonder what would have happened if he had confessed his feelings to you. How awkward that could have been… It could have ruined everything.

“Peter…I can’t believe you did that. That must have…sucked,” you whispered.

He chuckled.

“I’m not going to lie. It kind of did, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You’re special to me, and nothing would have been worth making our friendship weird or just destroying it altogether. It turned out to be nothing more than a crush, anyway. Just…teenage hormones.”

You felt your heart clench, wondering if you would have done the same. It must have been torture for him to swallow his feelings just to keep things comfortable between you two, no matter how fleeting the whole thing was for him.

“Really, it’s no big deal, Y/N. I’m long over it, now,” he waved you off.

You chuckled, moving past the brief shock you’d just experienced.

“I’m glad for that. If you told me you still had feelings for me, I probably would’ve accused you of sabotage all these years.”

“Sabotage,” he scoffed. “Listen, every single guy you’ve been into was downright awful. You literally have the worst taste in men-.”

“I do not!”

“You do, Y/N. Honestly, if it wasn’t for me, who knows what you would have gotten yourself into.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just for that, you’re paying for the takeout, tonight.”

“Botany? That’s crazy! I want to go into agriculture,” you said with a laugh.

The guy before you, Harry, chuckled with you. The two of you were tucked into a quiet corner of the kitchen. The rest of the house was vibrating with a deep bass, the sound of noisy college students filling your ears. Parties weren’t your thing, but frat parties especially were definitely not your thing. Somehow, Peter had finally talked you into attending one of his house’s infamous parties, and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes before you grabbed a drink with as little alcohol as possible and hid in the kitchen.

It was miraculous really that you bumped into an attractive guy who was equally uncomfortable with these things. He was funny and charming, and he wanted to study plants. You tried not to get ahead of yourself, but someone else might say it was fate that you two ran into each other. Hell, you ran into each other at Peter’s frat house, so the chances that they knew each other were high. Maybe Peter would have good things to tell you about him.

As if he was summoned by your thoughts, your eyes connected with familiar brown ones as he poked his head into the kitchen.

“Peter!”

You waved him over, and his eyes flitted between you and Harry as he approached you.

“Hey, Parker. I didn’t know you knew Y/N,” Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, Peter and I go way back. He’s my best friend,” you said, pulling Peter over.

Your best friend was being unusually quiet, and you frowned. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his eyes had hardened. Was he okay?

“Y/N was just telling me that she wants to go into agriculture. We’ll probably be taking a lot of classes together in about two years,” Harry threw out.

Peter chuckled at that, but it sounded off, and he turned to look at you.

“I figured you’d be hiding in the kitchen, so I came to find you,” Peter said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

A shudder passed through you at the unfamiliar gesture, but you brushed it off.

“Oh, you know how I am. I’m glad I ran into Harry though! He’s been keeping me company, so you can just go back to the party if you want. Your friends are probably looking for you,” you replied.

Peter had become quite popular since you two started college, and you knew that the demand for his attention was rather high. You often felt bad about dragging him down with you. You weren’t really the social type.

“Yeah, Parker, I can look out for Y/N for you,” Harry offered, a friendly smile on his lips.

You returned it and noticed the way Peter’s jaw ticked, and confusion filled you.

“Actually, I came to find Y/N so that we can go,” Peter bit out.

Your frown deepened, but you didn’t question it as Peter gripped your hand.

“Oh, okay. I guess we’re leaving. See you around, Harry!”

He waved back as Peter pulled you out of the kitchen. His grip was tight on your hand as he weaved through swaying bodies and drunk students. Again, you wondered if he was upset about something. It was Peter, so you hardly ever saw him upset. You breathed in the fresh air when the two of you made it outside, and you took the time to eye him.

“Peter…you alright?”

He took a deep breath, chest heaving before he looked at you with a smile. He looked more like himself and you returned it.

“Yeah, I’m just…not feeling too good,” he answered.

“Oh,” you sadly said. “Are you getting sick?”

He shrugged, hand in his pockets.

“I don’t know. I probably had too much to drink. Mind if I crash at your place?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“You’re always welcome to sleep over, you know that.”

It was quiet for a while between you two as you walked back to your apartment. His hand was soft on yours, and the way his arm kept brushing against yours brought comfort to you. You were so used to his presence, borderline dependent on it, and just knowing he was beside you was reassuring.

“I love you, Peter, but please don’t invite me to anymore parties,” you suddenly whispered, a hint of mock fear in your voice.

He barked a laugh, and you joined him.

“All of them aren’t that bad, I promise,” he chuckled. “Did you really hate it that much?”

You hummed, releasing a sigh.

“Maybe I didn’t hate it all that much,” you admitted after some time.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as a wistful smile fell over your lips, eyes gazing at the sky.

“So…how do you know Harry?”

His hand tightened around your own just the slightest.

“He’s in another frat,” he answered with a scoff. “He’s a spoiled rich kid who thinks he can get anything he wants by throwing money at it.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Somehow, I’m not shocked by that, but… You know what? I don’t care.”

He stopped walking, pulling you to a halt with him, and he stared at you with a frown.

“What? What do you mean?”

You shrugged.

“I like him. We have a lot in common and he’s hilarious and so cute. Maybe… Maybe I’m expecting too much, you know?”

Peter looked even more confused, jaw clenching as his frown deepened.

“What are you saying?”

“I mean… Yes, I’m a huge romantic and I want a boyfriend, a serious boyfriend, like I have for years, but… You have always been a girlfriend kind of guy. It’s no secret that you’re open to a serious relationship, and you claim the only reason that hasn’t happened yet is because you haven’t found the right girl, but… Peter, that’s never stopped you from having fun,” you elaborated.

He didn’t respond, and you sighed.

“I’m just saying that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should stop trying to make a boyfriend out of every guy I’m into and just have fun. Like you!”

He forced a chuckle past his lips.

“That’s…that’s not like you…”

“I know, but… I’m tired of being alone,” you shrugged. “We’re in college, now, and the chances of me finding a boyfriend are pretty low. Let you tell it, a good portion of the guys here are trash, but that only matters if you’re looking for something serious, and I don’t think I want that anymore.”

Peter was uncharacteristically quiet…again, and you tilted your head at him.

“That’s…a big change for you,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “…but I’m really into Harry. You’ll help me, right?”

Your pleading gaze met his dark one, slightly frowning at the way he was looking at you. He pursed his lips.

“Please, Peter? I really like him, and you know him so well.”

He looked away with a small sigh. He briefly closed his eyes before eventually nodding, and you smiled. He looked at you with a grin on his lips, taking your hand again as he continued the trek down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. Leave it to me, Y/N, and I’ll help you get laid in no time,” he relented.

You squealed, reaching up to shake his shoulders as you pushed him along.

“You’re an angel!”

He chuckled.

“What are best friends for?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, that was much better than I was expecting,” Harry relented.

“See! I told you, I am an excellent judge when it comes to these things,” you replied as the two of you walked out of the theatre.

It was the sixth date the two of you had been on in 4 weeks. True to his word, Peter had helped you out, and that next morning after the party, you’d woken up to a text from Harry Osborn himself. A huge grin had spread out over your face, and you didn’t hesitate to reply.

The two of you had been talking nonstop since then about practically any and everything. It turns out that you hadn’t been premature in thinking the two of you had so much in common. It was true! It was almost suspicious how much of the same things you liked, including horror films.

“Listen, the storyline didn’t seem all that original, and when I had watched the trailer, I felt like I’d seen the entire thing in less than 2 minutes,” he defended.

“Okay, okay, that I can understand, but ever since I’d missed out on seeing both Insidious and The Conjuring in theatres because I thought they were going to suck, I vowed to myself ‘never again’.”

“Yikes! Both of those films were great. I just know you still kick yourself over that one,” he laughed.

“It literally haunts me,” you groaned. “I know experiencing both of those in the theatre must have been amazing.”

Harry seemed to find your regret amusing, and he stopped to look at you with a smile on his face.

“Hey, so uh, my frat is throwing a party this weekend. I mean, we do just about every weekend, but I was thinking maybe you could come…as my…date this weekend?”

Your eyes widened a bit, and you felt your face heat up. He seemed nervous to ask you, like he didn’t know how you’d feel about it, and it was wild to you. You really liked Harry, and you thought you had made that more than obvious over the past month. Sure, Peter was right when he said he was a bit of a snob, but it wasn’t overbearingly so to the point that it became a turn off. Crazily enough, you could see Harry being more than just ‘fun’.

“I’d love that,” you honestly replied.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards into a smirk, and he stepped closer to you on the deserted sidewalk.

“Yeah…?”

You nodded, looking up at him as he got closer. Neither one of you said anything as he reached up to gently grip your jaw, leaning in until his lips pressed against yours. You sharply inhaled, closing your eyes as you savored this. His lips were soft, and the way he moved them against yours told you that he was experienced.

That didn’t bother you. Truth be told, you had always wanted to be with someone who knew what they were doing, because honestly, you had no idea. You felt flutters deep in your stomach, and you shuffled closer to him when a cool breeze blew by. He pulled away just a little, opening his eyes to look at you as you did the same.

“Come on. Let me walk you back to your place,” he offered.

You happily gripped his hand as he did just that.

You felt giddy, absolutely on cloud nine as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Maybe you were getting a bit ahead of yourself, but a nice and rich frat guy was asking you to be his date to his house’s party. In context, this whole thing was showing a lot of promise. Guys like him normally liked to keep their options open, and him actually claiming you as his date was making somewhat of a statement.

You waved him goodbye as you made your way inside the complex, lips still tingling from the second kiss he’d given you just outside. You were still smiling when you rounded the corner that led to your hall, pausing as your eyes fell on a familiar figure outside of your door.

“Peter, hey!”

He pulled himself to his feet with a small groan, stretching as you fished your keys out of your purse.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for over an hour,” he said, glancing at his watch.

You gave him a sheepish look as you let him go in first.

“Sorry. I went to go see a movie with Harry,” you answered.

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “You’re still seeing that guy?”

“That guy,” you scoffed with a small chuckle. “Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess…”

“You staying over tonight?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“I really wasn’t planning to, but since I’ve been waiting this long, I don’t want to go back to the house in the dark.”

You hummed, opening your drawer of takeout menus to figure out what you should order.

“So…how are things going with Harry?”

You couldn’t stop the smile that fell over your lips.

“Great actually,” you said, sounding surprised. “He asked me to be his date to the party his frat is throwing this weekend.”

Peter’s eyes were wide as you glanced up at him, dark eyebrows raised as he looked at you.

“Really…”

“Yeah! I don’t know… I wasn’t exactly planning for this to be anything serious, you know? I wanted to experience some light fun for once in my life, but now… I think I can see us actually being something,” you whispered.

Peter didn’t reply right away, only humming in response.

“Are you going to the party?”

He blinked, heaving a sigh before shaking his head.

“Nah. I’m not really a fan of the kind of parties they throw,” he said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?”

He waved you off.

“They can just get pretty wild. They regularly get noise complaints and don’t really monitor how much alcohol people are drinking until it’s too late and there’s throw up everywhere,” he explained with a frown.

“Oh…”

You were a bit disappointed that Peter wasn’t going to be there, but you had to remind yourself to stop being so dependent upon him. The two of you couldn’t stay attached at the hip forever, and at some point, you had to start making a social life for yourself…by yourself.

Friday night came much quicker than expected, and you were all dressed and ready to go. The house wasn’t far from your place, and since it was still daylight, you didn’t mind walking. You’d worn comfortable shoes, so it didn’t bother you.

Even though you would probably be considered an early arriver, the place was already lively when you stepped through the door. Everywhere you turned, you were met with someone’s back or chest, and you struggled to maneuver yourself through the bodies. You didn’t recognize anyone, and almost wished that Peter had come with you, growing nervous until you spotted a familiar head of dark hair.

You approached Harry with a smile, reaching out to grab his arm. His eyes were wide when he turned to face you, and you frowned when he maneuvered his arm out of your grip. Your frown only deepened when he stepped away from you, glancing away, and that was when you noticed the girl at his side.

She hadn’t been paying attention, gaze elsewhere, but she smiled when she finally turned to look at you. She was blonde and beautiful and had perfect teeth, dazzling you as she grinned. Her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around Harry’s arm as she leaned into him.

“Hey! Are you a friend of Harry’s?”

She seemed sweet, and confusion filled you at their familiar body language.

“Babe, this is Y/N. She’s super close with my friend Peter,” Harry answered, barely sparing you a glance.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you eyed them.

“Oh! I’ve yet to meet Peter, but I’ve heard you mention him sometimes. I’m Scarlet, Harry’s girlfriend,” she introduced herself.

If it all possible, you probably would have thrown up, but you hadn’t eaten anything all day, too nervous about tonight.

“Oh, wow! I don’t think Peter ever mentioned Harry having a girlfriend,” you responded, hoping it sounded casual.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, but you didn’t spare him a glance.

“Well, I’ve never actually met Peter, and Harry and I only recently go back together…what was it? Two months ago?”

“Two months ago…wow…”

You didn’t know what to say, and you finally understood the full meaning of ‘speechless’ in that moment.

“Yeah, Harry didn’t have any plans this weekend as far as I knew, so I decided to come down and surprise him. You should have seen his face when I showed up on the doorstep an hour ago,” she laughed.

You joined her, feeling like you were going to be sick.

“I’ll let you two catch up. It was nice to meet you!”

“You too,” Scarlet said, waving goodbye as you turned and pushed yourself through the crowd.

There were tears in your eyes, and your body was shaking. Were you on the verge of a panic attack? You stumbled over your own feet as you attempted to make your way to the door. So focused on the baby pink polish on your toes, you didn’t notice the figure before you until your head was colliding with their chest.

You stumbled back, almost falling had it not been for a familiar pair of hands. You looked up in shock, and everything crashed into you as your eyes met Peter’s. His gaze was inquiring, worry coloring his features as he studied you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, letting it fall against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“What happened?”

“H-Harry has a girlfriend,” you whispered.

You felt him tense against you.

“…what?”

“I mean… I thought… You said he was just some spoiled rick kid. You never mentioned a girlfriend,” you said, looking up at him.

“I didn’t know. Honest. They broke up forever ago,” he replied, pulling you against him.

“Yeah, well apparently, they got back together two months ago. The whole time we’d been talking and going out together he…,” you trailed off, shaking your head. “He treated me like I was practically a stranger.”

Peter’s jaw ticked, and he moved to go past you, but you stopped him. His dark eyes were focused on Harry no doubt, but you pressed your hands into his chest.

“Peter, let it go. Please! Just…stay with me? I don’t think I want to go home…”

The last thing you wanted was to lay in your bed and remind yourself of what a disaster tonight was turning out to be. Peter heaved a sigh, hands tightening on you before reluctantly nodding. He pulled you along towards the door.

“Come on. We can just go to the party at my house,” he offered.

You nodded, leaning against him as he walked you out. You wiped at your cheek, unsure of when a few tears had spilled over. You had fooled yourself into dreaming of more with Harry and look where it got you. Even if you had still only wanted something casual, there was no way you would have knowingly got involved with a guy who had a girlfriend. That wasn’t who you were.

“I thought…I thought you weren’t coming,” you whispered.

“I wasn’t, but… I didn’t want to leave you at a party where the only person you knew was Harry. I’m glad I did come,” he murmured. “What an ass…”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. Really. Maybe this is just a sign that I should stop trying to force something with every guy I like. It never turns out well,” you sighed.

Peter’s frat house was just as lively when you guys moseyed inside. A few of his brothers recognized you, and you waved at them. Peter’s arm tightened around your waist, but you didn’t mind it. You knew what other guys at the party would think, but you didn’t care. You were done with guys, and all you wanted was to hang out with Peter, the only guy you had ever been able to trust. So if they mistook you as Peter’s girl, and left you alone because of it, that was fine with you.

The two of you were attached at the hip throughout the night. Peter had gotten both of you drinks, and hours later, you were still nursing that same drink. This was never your crowd, and the more you made your way around the room with Peter, the more obvious it became. He didn’t seem to mind your company though, arm still at home on your waist. You noticed a few disappointed glances being thrown your way, and you chuckled with a frown.

“Peter, I think I’m ruining your chances of getting laid,” you finally said.

He glanced around to see what you meant before he chuckled too.

“It’s fine. You’re my best friend. I’m not just going to ditch you,” he responded.

You smiled but still felt a bit guilty that you had affected his night again. You pulled away from him, letting him know that you were going to be in the kitchen. He understood and promised to join you. To be honest, you wanted him to have fun. You didn’t exactly take pleasure in knowing that he sacrificed his usual routine at parties just for you.

You leaned against the counter, pressing your fingers to your temples as you rubbed circles into your skin. You didn’t know how the night had gone so wrong. How had you been so clueless? No, no! You were not going to do that. It wasn’t your job to watch and hunt for signs of an untruthful man. You weren’t supposed to be suspicious of a guy you were seeing. This whole situation was completely on Harry.

You finished your drink, tossing the red cup into the trash with a sigh. It was amazing that in the span of 3 hours, your life had done a complete 180. You had gone from having the time of your life to being alone and miserable and feeling absolutely foolish.

You heard footsteps make their way into the kitchen. You glanced up, face contorting in a frown as your gaze connected with that of the last person you wanted to see.

“What are you doing here?” you scoffed.

He was holding two drinks, eyes apologetic as he approached you.

“I’m sorry-.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Harry. There’s nothing that you could say that can fix this.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Scarlet and I… We’ve been having problems for a long time, now, and we both thought getting back together would make them magically go away, but they didn’t. The night we met, Scarlet and I had gotten into a huge fight, and I was under the impression that we were over…for good.”

You eyed him.

“Then she wanted to work things out, but I had already met you, and I really liked you…”

You looked away with a sigh.

“We were never exclusive, I guess, but it doesn’t matter because you have a girlfriend. You had a girlfriend the whole time we were hanging out, and I’m certain that you and she have an agreement that you guys are exclusive,” you harshly replied.

He glanced down, and you chuckled, but it lacked humor.

“You were cheating on her…with me… Never mind the obvious of how she would feel if she found out, but how do you think that makes me feel? Do you think I like being that kind of girl?”

He shook his head.

“No, no, you’re not the type-.”

“Exactly.”

He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“I know I messed up, okay? I just wanted to apologize and bring you this… You said it’s your favorite, the only drink you actually really like, and I thought maybe it could soften the blow of you chewing me out,” he confessed.

You eyed the cup, glaring at him before taking it. You took a sip before sighing.

“Well, thanks for the drink,” you saluted him with it. “…but I don’t see us moving past this Harry. It was fun, but I don’t even want to be friends with someone like you. I’m sorry, and I mean it when I say I hope you and Scarlet work things out.”

You brushed past him, taking another sip of the fruity mixture as you went in search of Peter. It was easy to find him, following the sound of his familiar laughter. He didn’t mention anything as he wrapped his arm around you, and you figured that he didn’t know Harry was here yet.

“Hey, I was coming, I swear I was-.”

“Peter, it’s fine! You know I don’t care about you keeping me company or not. I’m a big girl.”

He returned your smile, pulling you closer as his hand tightened on your waist.

You didn’t plan to stay much longer, and about an hour later you decided that you would head out…after you used the bathroom. You found it much more difficult to weave through the sweaty bodies this time, and you blinked as your vision spun for half a second. You stopped to steady yourself, pressing your hand to your head in confusion.

You eventually made it to the bathroom, and you took some time to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked alright, for the most part, but you felt so…off. Your fingers were tingling just the slightest, and the bass in the houses sounded incredibly far away. By the time you were done in the bathroom, you were stumbling out.

You had to hold onto the wall for support, and confusion filled you. You’d only been drunk a handful of times, but this time felt different. Even worse, you had only had two drinks. You dreaded making your way down the stairs, and you had to pause and lean your back on the wall halfway down. You heard someone call your name, and they too sounded so far away. You jerked when a pair of hands landed on your arms.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You stared at Harry for the longest time, wondering what he was still doing here when it clicked. You frowned at him.

“Did you put something in my drink?”

Your words were slurred, but he understood you nonetheless, and his eyes widened.

“What? No!”

“You did, didn’t you? I…I only had two drinks, and this didn’t start until after-.”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that! Come on, let me-.”

“No!” you jerked away from him. “Is this your way of getting in my pants, anyway?”

He frantically shook his head, concern and worry and disbelief all rolled into one in his gaze.

“Y/N, you have to believe me! I wouldn’t do this!”

You scoffed, pushing against him, but it was weak.

“Believe you? How could I trust anything you say?”

He blinked, something clicking in his eyes as he looked down the stairs and back to you.

“Y/N, I didn’t get the drink for you. Did Parker not tell you he saw me? He gave me the-.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

You both turned to look just as Peter came up the stairs. You stumbled towards him, fighting off Harry’s hands as Peter wrapped his arms around you.

“He put something in my drink,” you whispered, on the verge of passing out.

“What?” Peter demanded, tightening his hold on you.

“Y/N, listen-!”

“You’ve done enough, don’t you think? Get out of here, Harry, because if I tell my frat brothers you’re drugging girls they aren’t just going to let you walk out of here,” he threatened.

Harry stumbled over his words as Peter helped you back up the stairs.

“Leave,” you heard him snap at the other brunette.

Your fingers dug into his arm as he helped you walk down the hall, arms tightening around you.

“P-Peter…”

“Hey, hey… It’s okay. You can crash in my room, tonight, yeah?”

You’d only been in his room a handful of times, the both of you usually hanging out at his place. It was always clean and always smelled good, and you had thought to yourself before that it was no wonder girls kept coming back. He sat you down on his bed, and you struggled to sit upright.

You heard him fumbling around in his drawers and looked up just in time to see him coming over with a huge t-shirt. You didn’t mind when he helped you out of your clothes, welcoming it during your inebriated state. His fingers grazed your skin as he slid the shirt over you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, blinking at him.

He took his thumb to widen your eyes, getting a good look at your pupils. You felt like you were having an out of body experience, and you were grateful for Peter. You didn’t like feeling like this, and you shuddered to think about what would have happened to you had Peter not been here.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He ran his eyes over you before resting them on your fogged-out ones.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said with a small smile. “What are best friends for?”

You struggled to return the smile, and he brushed his hand along the side of your face. Your eyes fell closed at the gentle feel of his ministrations. You were somewhat in shock that Harry would do such a thing. A rapist was a big leap from cheater and liar, and you wondered what drove him to do it. He had a girlfriend, but maybe he was truly that greedy and disgusting?

You forced your eyes open when you felt Peter’s hand on the side of your neck. You blinked, eyebrows furrowing as you watched him lean in.

“Peter-.”

You were cut off when he pressed his lips against your own. Your eyes widened, and you reached up to press your hands into his chest, but you had no strength. His hand slid to grip the hair at the back of your head, tightening his grip as he leaned into you.

You mumbled incoherently into his mouth as he laid you down, his lithe frame immediately settling against yours. His other hand was on your naked thigh, his t-shirt riding up to brush against your underwear. You turned your head, gasping for breath.

“Peter…stop,” you panted. “W-what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer you, opting instead to pull away and reach behind his head to pull his shirt off. You blinked as you were met with the sight of his bare chest. He leaned down again, pressing his lips against yours. He simply swallowed all of your protests, and you turned your head away again.

“Peter!”

“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for years, now,” he whispered against your cheek.

Your eyes widened, and confusion filled you.

“…what?”

You tried to scoot back on the bed, but he only followed, his frame still caging yours in as you both moved. His eyes were hard as he looked at you, and you felt tears collect as you fought not to cry.

“Harry gets everything, you know. It’s all just so easy for him, but I’d never let him have you,” he murmured, pressing kisses to your neck. “Not after I worked so hard to save you…for myself…”

You pushed against him again, but he didn’t budge.

“No, no. Peter, what…what are you…?”

Nothing was making sense, and your head hurt and your body felt heavy and the room was spinning. Nothing he was saying was making sense.

“Peter, you’re my best friend… This doesn’t make any sense…”

Your head lolled, much too heavy to lift as you heard him fumble with his pants. Panic gripped you, but you could hardly move. You groaned when he pressed himself against you, and you could feel him hard and throbbing between your thighs.

“Peter,” you mumbled.

“I’m going to be the only person who gets to be inside of you. The only one to know what it feels like to have you wrapped around them. God, I’ve always wanted to know what you feel like,” he whispered, kissing you again.

His fingers made their way to your core, rubbing you through your underwear. You reached up to grip his arm, but you were sure that your hold was featherlight. You let like your body weighed a ton, and the smallest of movements took so much out of you.

You whimpered as you felt your underwear grow damp, and Peter wasted no time in pushing them to the side before pushing a finger inside of you. Another soon followed, and you were panting beneath him as he worked his hand in between your legs.

“Please…stop,” you begged. “I’ll scream…”

“Can you?” he wondered, lips brushing against yours.

Tears spilled over at his question. He was right. Could you even scream? You could barely speak.

“Even if you could scream, Y/N… There’s a party going on. Who’s going to hear you? Hmm?”

He was dragging your filthy underwear down your legs, now.

“Peter, please. I’m your best friend… Please, don’t do this to me,” you pleaded.

Peter’s eyes met yours.

“It’s just been us our entire lives. All we ever needed was each other. I want to keep it that way,” he said.

You yelped, pressing your nails into his back as he slid inside of you to the hilt. Your legs were limp around him, a scream caught in your throat. He leaned down to kiss your wet cheeks, shushing you as you struggled to adjust beneath him.

He took his time as he pulled out of you before sliding back in, groaning at the way you clenched around him. You pressed your nails harder into his back, and he hissed before reaching back to grip your wrist, pinning it to the bed. He did the same with the other and kept a steady pace.

You panted beneath him, eyes fluttering closed. Whatever was coursing through your system made it impossible to focus on anything other than the way his hard length felt dragging against your walls. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he thrust into you, never taking his eyes off of you as he watched your face.

His grip tightened on your wrists, and you gasped at the pain.

“Peter…”

“It’s okay. Just enjoy it, Y/N…”

You gasped again as he picked up his pace, forehead dewy with sweat. He buried his face in your neck again, chest pressed against yours as he pinned you to the bed, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “You’re finally mine…”

Something that was a cross between a choked moan and a sob escaped you.

“I want everyone to know it-.”

“No, Peter-!”

“I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up, so everyone in this house will know you belong to me. You’re my girl, Y/N. You always have been,” he moaned. “…and when you limp out of this house with my marks on you, everyone will know it.”

He came in you with a low moan, and you sobbed into his chest as he rolled over, curling you against him. He ran his fingers down your back, lips brushing your forehead.

“I’ll make you come before the night is over,” he whispered. “I’ll be the only one to ever touch you like this.”

You shook your head, and he rolled you back onto your back, still inside of you. His dark eyes bore into your own, fingers trailing over your trembling body.

“You know exactly what I’m capable of, Y/N… You know the things I can do. I’d hate to have to hurt someone for touching what’s mine.”

tags: @sherrybaby14 @kellyn1604 @xoxabs88xox @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @villanellevi @sebabestianstan101 @harringtonsblackgf

@opheliadawnwalker3 @jtargaryen18 @notyourtypicalrose @readermia

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter #peter parker #dark fic #marvel fanfiction #dark!peter x reader

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xawkward-ariesx · 3 years

Text

WIP game

Rules: Posting a list of current writing works in progress. Feel free to ask me for info on any of them, whether snippets of writing, plot details, main characters, etc. Send me a title listed below and I’ll share something related to it. ;)

I was tagged by @deardiary17 and @rcse (I know you tagged my main but I’m doing it here) some of these I’ve already started posting while others are sitting a couple chapters in in my docs but lets go. (Blue - Doctor who, Red - Vampire Diaries)

1. Golden Girl - a series three dw rewrite where Rose stays but the Doctor almost falls into the void which leads to the reemergence of Bad Wolf, erased memories, multiple timelines and lots of secrets. Ya know the trope

2. Unwanted Destiny - this is an old one that I’m working through rewriting 🙃 But a tvd fic where Elena has a twin sister that hasn’t been present for much of the earliest seasons who has a secret that she’s trying to keep underwraps. Its very tropey

3. Too Good at Goodbyes - Rose is immortal! And her and Tentoo’s kids are too and they’re being hunted by Torchwood. So they run back to Rose’s primary universe and try to settle into new identities and a new universe

4. Decay - Rose is unageing and currently coming face to face with the truth of the Doctor’s words from long ago as she watches her husband die and reminisces on their life together. ‘Humans decay. You wither and you die.'

5. Trouble - a dw/tvd crossover. When trying to send Caroline back in time she winds up in a parallel universe where Rose is trying to get back to her home universe and the man she loves. But they’ve both got a secret.

6. Abyss - With a spell binding her life to Elena’s, Bonnie decides she’s had enough of Mystic Falls’ drama and finds herself in New Orleans with a recently resurrected Kol. She quickly finds herself embroiled in new supoernatural drama though

7. Just One More Lifetime - a tvd reincarnation au. Bonnie is the reincarnation of Kol’s viking wife, after locking eyes the memories of every life she’s live start to unlock and her perspective on vampires starts to change.

8. don’t you leave me lonely - a tvd viking au. Similar to 7, Bonnie is Kol’s viking wife who’s living under the same immortality spell as Freya when she is awoken from her slumber by the Bennett witches who believe she is the solution to their Klaus problem not knowing that it it’s Bonnie’s coffin that’s the solution not her. But Bonnie must buy time to gain full immortality without her descendants realising

9. We’re Just Names in Stone - Kol kidnaps Caroline and Bonnie to prevent the Mystic Falls gang’s plans to rise Silas when his concerns go unheard. Bonnie and Caroline must toe the line so as to not end up dead at the hands of the temperamental original

10. [Error: 38] - When something goes wrong with the timelines of Rose’s original universe that leads to the malfunction of the dimension canon she finds herself in 1913. Stranded with no sign of the Doctor she feigns amnesia as a maid at a boy’s school as she tries to figure out a way back when she attracts the suspicions of the new maid. New to Farringham Martha is suspicious of the amnesiac that started not long before her, fearing her to be one of the family her true identity is much worse as she struggles to balance a human Doctor and his lost love

11. Agents Across the Void - Spyfall au. Something is rewriting the DNA of agents in pete’s world, as members of Torchwood it is up to them to figure out what’s going on. But when Rose and Tentoo receive news that the crack between the universes has opened up again and an unfamiliar face falls through they realise things are more complicated than they first seemed.

12. The Ink on Our Skin - Soulmate au. The Doctor knows he has no future how can he fighting in the time war? But the childish doodles of his soulmate give him hope. He knows he won’t survive the war, let alone meet them. But sometimes even the Doctor makes mistakes

I don’t know who hasn’t been tagged but if you want to do this, then I tag you :)

#Ace writes sometimes #tagged #UD #TGaG #Decay #Trouble #Abyss #JOML #dylml #WJNiS #E:38 #AAV #TIoOS #this was a lot of fun but also oh my god I really do just start everything and finish nothing o.o god i was reading through some of these #this week trying to write something! anything! but alas the words would not come i really need to finish up the chapters for golden girl UD #and Decay. but i'd take writing anything at this point. especially my assignments oh god #ignoring the dw and merlin drabbles i said id expand upon #WIPs #GG

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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So just out of curiosity, what inspired the whole Beacon Bay idea? What kind of sharks and dolphins are they? This entire thing is very intriguing to me and I can't wait to see more.

So first off, anyone who’s ever played soundingboard to my original stuff like Moukie or Adam can attest to the fact that I’m ocean obsessed, so there’s pretty much nothing I’m interested in that isn’t a mere two or three steps removed from an ocean/merfolk/sea witch AU in my head. Gimme anything and like, five minutes, and I can make it ocean themed. Space operas included. I grew up near the ocean, been surfing for ages though of course I haven’t in years, blah, but like. I’m a big fan of the deep blue sea. Its just....neat. ghaskfhalkfhla

So I’ve always had a bunch of ocean-set concepts. This particular AU came about from like, smashing a couple of them together to preserve them when my plans for doing original stuff with them fizzled out, at least for the time being. Cuz the other thing about me is the way some people like, take their fanfic and file off the serial numbers to turn it into original novels, I more often do the reverse, lmao. When I have something I can no longer do something with original-content-wise, for whatever reason, but I still like the idea, I turn it into fanfic so I can still play around with it whenever I want and like, have purpose to that, so I don’t feel like I’m wasting time by still ‘indulging’ in that concept or whatever.

Like my Batfandom fic By Lost Ways, as I’ve mentioned before....that actually started out as an original high fantasy novel set in my ‘Tales of the Citadel’ shared universe. BUT the setting ended up being similar enough to a sci-fi project I wanted I to move forward with, ‘Waveriders’ (the one with the sky pirates and the ATLA-style benders only instead of evoking the four classical elements, waveriders could each ‘hack’ a different kind of wavelength, that one) like....basically, the projects FELT similar enough in setting and various superficial elements that I started to feel derivative of myself moving forward with both, so I picked Waveriders and then recycled the setting and a lot of the plot of the sky-set fantasy novel for fanfic, just for fun.

Same thing here, though Beacon Bay is basically the mash-up of two different shelved original projects. Basically, its the plot of a CW-style show about teen sirens and the sea witch making like the Fagin to their Oliver Twists, from a pilot I wrote years ago.....it got some interest but I refused to make it less gay because lol have you met me, so it ultimately never went anywhere but I still liked the plot.

And then remember the werewolf books I mentioned awhile back, that had the mongoose shifters in them? LOL. Yeah, so I’d written two and a half novels in that series and had this whole expansive worldbuilding of twelve different shifter clans each with their own innate magic, patron deity/creator, etc, but all my agent and editor contacts at the time were like yeah sorry, shifters are over for now, and I was like wow, can’t believe cancel culture’s real and publishing cancelled werewolves, wtf, rude, and then I was like eh, still wanna play in this universe especially with the dolphins and shark shifters which I never even really got to in those books, so I’m just gonna air-lift them out of that and drop them smack in the middle of my CW siren plot and fanfic away to my heart’s content and call that ‘being productive’ when I feel like it.

Anyway, found family was a big theme of those books and the world-building I did there in general, because again, have you met me, I’m not predictable or anything (shhh, the word is consistent), and one of my initial things there was I wanted the various shifter types to all have innate magic, because for literally no real reason that I can discern other than Whimsy, I have always been Team Werewolf in vampires vs werewolves, and I was tired of werewolves always being by default the underdogs in those narratives. Even if that does make for a good pun.

SO, I wanted to come up with werewolf magic that felt natural and organic to werewolves, like nothing too flashy or obscure, but that would make them a legitimate threat even to other supernatural creatures. And I made it so each of the shifter types were granted an active and a passive magic by the god that created their type of shifter, and with werewolves, their active magic was that of the pack gestalt. I took the idea of ‘their whole is greater than the sum of their parts’ that TW kinda briefly touched on when presenting (but never really doing much with) the idea that the more wolves in a pack, the stronger that pack was.....and I decided okay what if being part of a pack upped stats all across the board AND all shifters have a SLIGHT innate resistance to magic, being innately magical beings themselves?

So a werewolf pack, with enough pack members, would thus not only be formidable in strength, speed, senses and speed of healing....but compound that innate shifter resistance to magic, which in a single shifter is negligible, like, just enough to make them slightly harder to track with magic or curse or whatever.....but in a whole werewolf pack, that adds up to make the pack effectively immune to foreign magic. Vampires can’t compel them, demons can’t possess them, witches can’t curse them, etc. So a lone werewolf, not part of a pack, is formidable, but nothing another supernatural being can’t take on. But a lone werewolf who IS part of a pack....different story entirely, because now most other supernatural beings, no matter what their USUAL strengths, are reduced to taking on that werewolf hand to hand, as their own supernatural gifts or spells or whatever, like, aren’t gonna do them any good against these particular foes. And werewolves are USED to fighting with just brute physical strength and attributes, which gives them the edge against opponents who are more used to being able to fall back on magic in battle.

But as much as I like sticking to a theme, I like to diversify that theme where possible, so when it came to the other shifter types, I wanted to similarly come up with ways where ‘the whole would be greater than the sum of their parts’ but in like, entirely different ways.

So with dolphin shifters, their ‘passive magic’ (in quotes cuz that’s not quite the right word for it but whatever) is that they’re all empaths, with their more active magic being weather manipulation. Their empathy is a two-way street....they project emotions as well as just feel other peoples’, which ties into the fact that their patron deity was Dionysus. Dolphin parties....legendary. But in an extremely wild, dangerous and Bacchanalian kinda way. In terms of Beacon Bay specifically, this is a bit of a problem for the BB dolphins, as the closest thing they had to an official Triton (the dolphin shifter version of an Alpha) was Peter, but they were like nope, not loving this guy, and kinda drove him out of town in the AU S1 backstory of this ‘verse, which means Scott and the others are kinda just making it up as they go along, and don’t really know the ins and outs of BEING dolphin shifters. (Derek is....elsewhere, in this. Mostly).

So bottom line is they have reputations around school for being loud obnoxious goofs and trouble-makers, constantly playing hooky and such, but its because they don’t really know HOW to safeguard against spilling their emotions onto everyone around them so they try and err on the side of being the life of the party whenever possible, as that’s better than the alternatives in their opinion. And when they’re just having bad days and bumming hard, the whole pod will just skip school and glomp around the bumming pod member whilst self-caring, rather than like, accidentally bum out the entire school.

But their weather manipulation magic is where the gestalt idea comes into play with them, as I love weather manipulating powers, but I didn’t want to make them all Ororo Munroe, y’know? Only Ororo Munroe can be Ororo Munroe. Don’t make me scoff. I’ll do it. I’ll scoff so hard. SO I went with the idea of weather control married to manipulating storms via song and was like, okay what if a dolphin pod is like, a symphony of shifters.

Basically, its like each individual dolphin shifter is a single voice in a chorus, and there’s magical equivalents of being a baritone, an alto, etc. Like, none of them can whip up a storm on their own. Its more that each of them can summon or conjure a PIECE of a storm with their song, with it being different for each of them....symptomatic of their magic as an expression of them as an individual. So for instance, Scott’s song is ‘tuned’ to lightning. He can call down a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.....but he can’t summon so much as a drop of rain to save his life. Literally. Its an actual plot point at one point. Whereas Isaac’s song is all about calling down rain, Boyd’s is more of an arctic wind, and Erica’s kinda summons a pressure front that in harmony with the two of theirs can whip up a mean waterspout. And then Corey’s all about conjuring fog banks with low visibility while Liam can whistle up a strong, gale-force wind but sucks at using his song as a precision instrument. Etc, etc. But the real magic is when they all use their voices and magic in concert....as a group, they can summon huge magical thunderstorms.

Also, one thing I love about using different kinds of shifters is the opportunity to explore enhanced supernatural senses that aren’t just keen sight, smell or hearing. So the dolphin shifters aren’t like wolf shifters in being able to detect chemosignals or anything like that....in fact, their sense of smell isn’t much different from anyone else’s. But they do have an ability to use what’s effectively supernatural echolocation even above water, and their sight is adapted for optimal viewing underwater, making them particularly good at seeing in the darkness even on land.

(Also, related but somewhat tangential to both the shifter senses and dolphin ‘voices’....all dolphin shifters have a strong talent for mimicry, but this isn’t technically a form of magic, more just a combination of their control over their voice and their keen senses of pitch, etc).

The shark shifters, on the other hand, have some of the keenest senses of all shifters. Not only is their sense of smell even better than a werewolf’s, they’re sensitive to changes in pressure, for one thing. Which means on land, they can even feel changes in atmospheric pressure.....so like, the shark shifters of Beacon Bay could be in math class and then ‘feel’ a sudden drop in air pressure and thus even before some strange weather phenomenon occurs, they’re groaning like ugh fucking A, what the hell did the damn dolphins do now.

Also, their magnetic field perception is such that they can kinda ‘sense’ when people are around, just by being aware of the approaching magnetic field of another living being.

And then with the sharks, I was looking for ways to lean into the associations we have with sharks and blood, but subvert them to be less macabre and more communal. And another big theme of mine in general is like, I am DETERMINED to go to my grave shouting at the top of my lungs “Its THE BLOOD OF THE COVENANT IS THICKER THAN THE WATER OF THE WOMB, NOT BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, HOW DID PEOPLE GET THAT SO BACKWARDS ITS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF HOW ITS USUALLY STATED!”

Like, that’s just...HUGE pet peeve of mine. Its like nails on a chalkboard, lmfao, that drives me nuts. That phrase is usually cited by people using it to express like, the idea that there’s no greater force than family, specifically BIOLOGICAL, ‘blood’ relations, but its literally meant to be the exact opposite, that the blood of CHOSEN bonds, of covenants, of vows or promises, is a greater force than the water of the womb, ie being born of the same womb, as in biological siblings. The entire point of the phrase is biology ain’t shit, family is what we choose. And somehow it got turned ENTIRELY around.

(Note: Okay, so for the record, its not ‘somehow’, there’s actually a very clear reason for why that particular interpretation gained so much momentum, and that’s because for a long time it was conflated with an old German proverb from like a thousand years ago that basically translates to “kin-blood is not spoiled by water.” Which basically was meant to mean that nothing can ‘dilute’ blood relations, not time, not distance, not water. So that phrase DOES correspond to the idea that ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Problem is, there isn’t a direct trace from that particular proverb TO most USAGES of ‘blood is thicker than water,’ which when you throw in the OTHER phrase, which in its entirety is “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” what you end up with is a lot of people SAYING that one when they actually MEAN to say ‘kin-blood is not spoiled by water’ and that’s where the meanings get switched. But I fucking digress. Per usual).

Anyway. So combine that particular pet peeve with my found family fixation AND the fact that this is about magic and magic means I can do whatever the hell I want, fuck your biological connections mwahahaha.....I decided to base shark magic on the idea of the blood-ties of family....but CHOSEN blood-ties, as in blood of the covenant ties.

What I mean is okay, so it first of all just made sense to me to have shark shifter communities be heavily focused around adoption, because like....let’s be real, shark shifters going around biting people to change them into shifters, and then people magically healing from....shark bites....was going to attract a lot more attention than people turning after being attacked by other types of shifters. Not to mention the fact that not only are shark attacks always big news, part of why they’re big news is because they’re actually pretty rare.

So, shark shifter communities were never really gonna propagate via lots of random shark shifter attacks turning people. So the way they DO expand and grow is by, well, family. Both biological AND adoption...as well as of course shark shifter communities taking in people who ARE attacked by rogue shark shifters, when that does happen.

But bottom line is, there’s an additional element in play in shark shifter communities, beyond just the gene pool....and that’s like, a magical tidepool of talents, let’s call it. Because I do love me some alliteration. But also tidepool of talents is just a cool phrase, IMO.

Anyway, the main part of shark shifter magic, and how THEIR whole is greater than the sum of their parts, is that any shark shifter can draw upon or channel the talents, skillsets or knowledge of anyone else in their communal family. And whenever that family gets added to, the talents, skillsets and knowledge of the new addition gets added to the pot, so to speak. So shark shifters are kinda all like Rogue, if Rogue’s focus was less on the superpowers of other people and more on things like Beast’s scientific knowledge, Cyclops’ strategic skills or Cable’s weapons expertise.

And then their ‘passive magic’ is a form of psychometry whenever they come into contact with blood. By touching even just a drop of someone’s blood, they can get a vision of how that blood was spilled or even get a sense of where the person who spilled it is now.

As to the types of sharks and dolphins they all are, for that I went with the thing about the shape you take reflects the person you are.....all the shifters here are full shifters, and there’s no genetic component to their shifting, its purely magical, so like....just because Peter turned the various dolphins of BB doesn’t mean they all turn into the same kind of dolphin he was. In fact, I don’t even know what kind of dolphin he was on account of I don’t really care tbh, lol. Whereas Erica’s an Atlantic spotted dolphin, Liam’s a pygmy killer whale which looks like an orca just tiny in comparison and is actually a dolphin, and I found that combination of factors hilarious, etc, etc.

Same thing with the shark shifters. Even among biological relations, there’s a ton of variety of shark types. Like the twins aren’t even the same type...Ethan’s a blue shark and Aiden’s a bull shark, Tracy’s a tiger shark and Hayden’s an angel shark. Danny’s actually a throwback to an unnamed prehistoric shark, not Megalodon big but big enough to shut up Jackson when he goes on about being a great white shark. Shark and crocodile shifters are the two oldest shifter clans, old enough that literal dinosaurs fall under the umbrella of their shifter type, and thus occasionally show up even in modern generations.

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codenamesazanka · 4 years

Note

Unpopular opinion: Dabi's really not that interesting.

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

Maybe not ‘strongly’ strongly but definite agreement.

I’m repeating myself here cuz I’ve said all this about Dabi before, but I guess a refresher is good.

As a concept and design, he is pretty interesting. Blue flames, patchwork skin? Damn. It’s such a cool appearance, so memorable, so creepy, so intriguing. And the Touya theory? Wow!

But Dabi as he is... :/ I think it’s less that he himself is “objectively” uninteresting—

although his persistence indifference to the League and lone wolf tendencies causes him to miss out on bonding moments, leaves him undeveloped and with a blank personality, which doesn’t make him any more likable or relatable, which causes reader to be apathetic towards him. This reader, at least.

—and more that I am so tired of the oversaturation of Dabi fanworks, fan-focus, fan theories, fan-preoccupation, most of which examines him from the one single fanon angle, that I’ve grown desensitized to his whole deal.

I want a cute fic where Toga bonds with the League? All I ever get is Dabi playing big bro to Toga, and for some reason he’s always braiding her hair. (I have a younger sister and lemme tell ya, I have never touched her hair. She would’ve killed me.) Where’s my Toga and Spinner antics, cuz they were paired together during Machia Month? Shigaraki and Toga being murdery siblings? Mr. Compress getting on her case for not picking up her phone or not knowing high school curriculum knowledge? Nope, it’s Dabi. And not even focused on her (and her possible siblings, the friends she lost, her relationship with her hair because she always has it down when she was ‘normal’, but it’s always in buns now that she’s Toga Himiko, Villain) but instead on Dabi’s angst about his maybe siblings.

I wanna see more of Giran? Maybe with Jin, since they have an established relationship and they care for each other? Too bad.

Why. He didn’t even want to help save the guy.

Basically the more Dabi fever there is, the lower my interest level in him drops; and that’s on me, I admit that.

This sure did turn into a rant; my apologies!

#asked #answered #ask meme #nalslastworkingbraincell #thanks for the ask!!

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wylanvnneck · 4 years

Text

Age Rating: T for Troglodyte

Summary: Hunger Games modern day AU, Peeta is a policeman and Katniss just broke the law. Kinda. Whoops. 'Tis a oneshot.

(Also, mentions of nudity in relation to streaking, so if you’re not comfortable with that kinda stuff this isn’t the fic for you.)

On AO3 | Can you spot all the references?

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

It was all Johanna’s fault. Against Johanna Mason and alcohol, I never stood a chance.

‘District 12’ was a pretty popular nightclub, famous for its signature drink ‘The Nightlock’, so that’s where Johanna, Madge and I had decided to take Annie for her Bachelorette party, she’d just wanted a small get together with ‘The Girls’ so there we were.

The night began when we all met up at Annie’s apartment to get ready together and ‘pre-drink’, ‘cus there was no way in hell we could afford to buy that many drinks at such a fancy place. We dress up, do each other’s makeup, paint our nails, exchange gossip, tease Annie about her upcoming marriage and take lots and lots of shots in between.

By the time we head out to walk the few blocks to the nearby club we’re decked in the sexiest clothes we own, which for me equates to a little black dress with a lacy feather design on the back that Jo’d forced me to buy on a rare trip to H&M, which apparently made my bod look fab, her words not mine. Madge has gone crazy with the makeup on my face, with black wing tip eyeshadow to match the dress.

She herself is looking elegant as usual in her midnight blue catsuit and heels, while Jo is in a dangerous looking pair of black fishnet tights and a leather top that threatened to slip off and reveal its secrets at any minute. Annie is in her skirt and top, rocking a shiny pair of silver stilettos which for me would have spelt out ‘death trap’, but she pulls it off.

The club is loud and noisy, strobe lights switching colours every few moments, dizzying my senses. While I’m still recovering Jo’s grabbed us all by the hands and dragged us to the bar, even though we’re all pretty tipsy already. Looks like I’m getting smashed tonight, but hey, what better occasion to get drunk at than your best friend’s bachelorette party?

We order our drinks from the hot brown eyed bartender, who’s smoothly mixing beverages and flirting with us as he prepares our drinks, cocktails for Madge and Annie, a Nightlock for me and a Jack and Coke for Johanna.

Annie is blushing and I’m surprised that Annie even recognizes flirting at this point, she and her groom-to-be Finnick having been attached at the hip since freshman year in high school.

Madge is more receptive but we all know that she’s irrevocably devoted to my childhood best friend Gale and that she’d never go further than casual flirting. Johanna of course has no such qualms as she shamelessly responds, with me as an unwilling witness as she chats the guy up and I impatiently wait for my Nightlock.

It’s worth the wait though, the dusky blue liquid is enticing, drawing you in like a sweet poison. This was definitely worth the long queue at the entrance and the rather steep pricing.

Now that I’ve sufficiently imbibed in enough alcohol I’m feeling brave enough to hit the dance floor with my friends and Madge, Annie and I leave Johanna to her conquest and find our way to the middle of the room where the space is packed with sweaty, writhing bodies.

I’m not much of a dancer, but the Nightlock seems to have taken effect and I’m filled with a delightful buzzing sensation so I just give myself up to the music, following along to the seductive rhythm.

My surroundings blur, as people dance around us, couples play tonsil hockey, my friends and I do the macarena and bump hips and I barely notice when Jo returns after having secured brown eyes’ phone number and carrying a fresh supply of drinks.

I’m feeling adrenalized and the buzzing sensation increases with this next round and we’re laughing and panting and the music drowns out everything and the lights are shining and it’s the most exhilarated I’ve felt in a while, considering how run down I am each day after my college classes and part time job at the clinic.

For tonight, I’m just Katniss Everdeen, a free unrestrained rebel.

Hours pass and it’s 2.00 am and we’re staggering out the door, blurry-eyed and red faced. The deserted sidewalk is so pretty and black. The trees are so brilliantly green. Trees. Lights. Life.

I’m definitely hammered.

The rest of the girls don’t seem too sober either, but I’m the biggest lightweight out of all of us so it’s no surprise that I’m so far gone.

We’re giggling and talking and I hear Annie start up a game of Truth or Dare. It’s a teenager’s game but who cares and besides, it’s her night.

Madge starts us off. “Alright Bridesy, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Ok, what’s your least favorite thing about Finnick?”

She contemplates this for a while before replying, “I suppose he can be a little too proud of his looks,” she blushes.

The rest of us let out a collective snort. It’s certainly true that Finnick could be more than a little vain, but it was also true that being around Annie made him less so. Besides, when he wasn’t busy preening his blond hair in front of a mirror he was a pretty intelligent and loyal friend.

“I’ll say,” Jo smirks. “Now, ask me one, a Dare.”

Annie dares her to give a 3 minute lecture on safe sex, which ends up with us guffawing as Jo proceeds to explain the science of birth control pills and the mechanics of a condom in a posh British voice that sounds vaguely Australian.

When she’s done and we’ve finally recovered our breath she turns to me, “Alright brainless, Truth or Dare?”

Her black eyes are challenging me, and the alcohol makes me stupid.

“Dare.”

It’s a testament to how drunk I am that I don’t immediately panic at the devilish gleam in her eyes. We’ve made it about 2 blocks from the club and we’ve still got a few more to go to get back to Annie’s apartment where we’re all spending the night. The streets are mostly deserted but the occasional car cruises along.

“Alright Kitkat, here’s what you gotta do. I dare you to streak around this block.”

At first, my alcohol hazed brain doesn’t comprehend what she’s saying. And then it hits me. Annie and Madge are doubled over with laughter and cheering, the traitors.

My cheeks are red, “You want me to...to strip and run around this entire block?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Yup,” the she-devil responds. “Come on, Everdeen, live a little.”

Easy for her to say, she’d done this millions of times, the worst that had happened was that she’d gotten off with just a warning from a mall security officer that she’d managed to charm. I, on the other hand, have always been extremely private about my body, not that I thought there was anything wrong with it but I preferred not to flaunt it. The dress I was wearing tonight is the most daring clothing I own.

However, tonight, I’m feeling daring. Or stupid. Probably very stupid. But it’s 2.15 in the morning, the streets are practically deserted, no pedestrians are around to see me other than my friends. And after all tonight I had been letting go, throwing off my constraints. Besides, when I’m 80 these’ll be the stories I tell my grandkids, right?

Well if I’m drunk enough to think about being 80 and having grandkids, plural, I’m drunk enough to run around a block naked.

So I do it. I take a quick glance at our surroundings to make sure no one’s around before I reach down and peel off my dress, while my treacherous friends let out ridiculous wolf whistles. I hand the black garment to Madge along with my black boots. The chilly night air hits my body and goosebumps erupt on my skin, pale in the dimly lit street lights as I cover my chest with my arms. I feel the blood rushing to my face.

“Well?” Jo raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say go on then, do it .

I take a deep breath and break off into a run. I feel as swift as lightning. I’m unstoppable. I’m running around the streets of the city in my lacy underwear and no bra as my dress was backless. I’m practically as naked as the day I was born as I race along the sidewalk and I’m burning up and I feel like a girl on fire.

I quickly circle the short distance and I’m just about to make it back to where my friends are standing, howling with amusement at the sight of me. The end is in sight.

And that’s when I hear it. The sound of a car approaching. Oh hell.

The situation gets ten times worse when I catch sight of the vehicle that’s just turned into the street. It’s a police patrol car.

Oh, the universe was a cruel, cruel place.

* * *

There’s no place to run and no place to hide in the open street. There’s no escape for me, the lone policeman behind the wheel knows it and I know it. So, heart pounding and with a sinking feeling in my chest I simply walk the rest of the way to my now silent group of friends and stretch my hand out for my dress while he stops the car by the pavement and steps out of it to approach me.

I manage to slip on my dress before resignedly turning around to face him, and when I do I’m struck speechless. In front of me is the most handsome policeman I’ve ever seen. Scratch that, one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.

Ordinarily I’d be disgusted at myself for internally drooling so much over a cute guy, but this isn’t ordinary Katniss. So I stare to my heart’s content. His eyes are the first thing I notice, a stark blue, standing out in the dark early morning light. His ashy blonde hair falls in waves over his forehead, and his skin is pale. He also looks pretty muscular, no doubt as a result of regular training. Shoot me now.

I’m so absorbed in staring at him that I almost don’t notice what he’s saying, “Excuse me ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for being drunk and disorderly.” He sounds almost apologetic, despite his formal tone and his cheeks are tinged slightly red but that’s probably nothing compared to the embarrassed blush on my face.

“Don’t worry Katniss, I’ll call Gale, he’ll know what to do,” I hear Madge squeak from the side while Officer Blue Eyes attaches a pair of cuffs on me.

I turn my head and give her a quick nod before I’m gently ushered into the backseat of the patrol car. The drive is silent and I’m almost completely sober now. No more liquid courage for me, and I’m left feeling disoriented and anxious, starting to panic a little as I resolutely look outside the window as we drive to the station, unseeing of my surroundings.

“So, wild night, huh?” His voice is a slightly husky one. I could listen to it all day. And night. All day and night. Maybe I’m still a little intoxicated.

I let out a dry laugh that sounds rather high pitched, “You could say that.”

“I remember what that was like, you know, back when I wasn’t a cop yet. Highschool seems like a million years ago” He has an easy smile on his face that I can see from the rearview mirror.

“Doesn’t it. Although, I’ve never really been a huge party person. Tonight was an exception.” I wish I could cover my face with my cuffed hands.

I see him look at me through the mirror, blue eyes filled with sympathy. “Whoops, looks like it just wasn’t your night then.”

We’ve pulled up to the Police Station and he’s reversing the car into a parking spot around the back. “I guess not,’ I agree with a wry half-smile on my face.

I’m escorted into the building and it’s practically deserted, the sound of the ceiling fans working filling up the silence as two officers sit hunched around a desk examining a computer screen while sipping on what looks to be mugs of coffee.

Caffeine. I’m jealous.

Officer Blue Eyes exchanges a quick word with one of them and she simply waves back with her hand. He takes me to the back of the room through a short passage that leads to a holding cell, a small square room with barred walls through which I can peek at the corridor that leads to the main office we just walked through. There's a small bench attached to the wall, with a rolled up mat and a pillow on it where he indicates for me to sit. My hands are released from the cuffs and I rub at my wrists.

We haven’t spoken since we got out of the car, but now he says, “Alright then...ma’am, I’m gonna need to ask you some questions.”

“Hit me with it.” I slump against the wall. Might as well get comfy, this was gonna be a long night.

“Ok, well first off what’s your name?”

“Katniss Everdeen.”

“Age?”

“22”

“Are you in college?”

“Yep. But I don’t live within campus grounds.” I give him my address as well.

“Any part time jobs?”

“I’m a part time assistant at Paw Prints Veterinary Clinic.”

‘’Ok great, thank you,” he’s been writing my replies down on a plain spiral notepad. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

He turns and walks away and as he does a question pops, unbidden, out of my mouth, “Wait. What’s your name?” I’d been trying to read his name tag since we reached the cell but I couldn’t seem to make it out.

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.” His smile is breathtaking.

I scrunch my eyes closed and let out a soft groan the moment he’s out of sight. Stupid, stupid Katniss. Why didn’t I just say no to that idiotic dare? Why did I drink so much? Why were cops allowed to be hot?

What was wrong with me?

My eyes are still closed and I’m leaning against the cell wall, contemplating my life decisions that had brought me to this moment, when I hear footsteps approaching.

Peeta was back and he was carrying what looked to be a steaming paper cup and a brown paper bag.

“Here, this should help with a hangover,” he hands me the cup through the bars. It’s steaming hot coffee and the aroma reminds me of Heaven.

I’m ravenous and thirsty and I gulp the brown liquid down, relishing the invigorating feeling despite the fact that I’ve almost certainly burnt my tongue.

When I look up again he’s leaning against the bars, watching me with those intense baby blue eyes. I would feel abashed by how impatiently I drank my coffee but I seemed to have reached my quota of embarrassment for the day. Probably even my quota for the year, forget a day.

“So Katniss, what’s gonna happen now is that you’ll be held here overnight until you’re sober and discharged tomorrow morning, most probably you’ll just be given an official warning as this looks to be your first offense.” His tone is calming and helps to slow my racing heartbeat. He’s still clutching that brown paper bag in his hand.

I nod slowly in response. That wasn’t too bad. I could live with just a few more hours in this claustrophobic space.

He hands me the bag. “Here, in case you’re hungry.”

I look at the bag and there seems to be something soft and circular inside. I think of that old cop cliché and I’m almost certain it’s a doughnut. Instead, it’s a soft looking bun and as I’m opening up the bag further the smell of...cheese? Reaches my nose. My stomach gives a low rumble. I really hope it wasn’t audible.

“It’s a uh...a cheese bun. I make them myself,” his voice sounds a little shy and my heart gives a lurch. Who was this man and why had I been deemed worthy of meeting him? Granted, not in the most ideal circumstances, but still.

“You bake?” The question comes out sounding almost accusatory. “I mean, you- you have the time to bake, you know, being a policeman?” and do it really well, judging from the scents wafting my way.

“My dad actually owns a bakery so he lets me come in after hours and do some baking. It’s surprisingly therapeutic after a hard day at work,” his lips quirk upwards on the left side.

“Wow. That’s...wow. The best that I can cook is a pretty mean mac and cheese,” I confess.

He lets out a soft laugh, “Well, that’s a very useful dish. You can go ahead and eat you know, don’t mind me.”

So I do. It’s delicious. The first bite melts me. It’s soft and salty and creamy and absolutely delectable. I involuntarily let out a long, low moan.

He’s looking at me with that quirked mouth and it almost looks like he’s smirking. “That good, huh?”

“Mhngmm” I garble out. I sound like a chipmunk with food in its mouth but I couldn’t care less.

I force myself to pace my eating this time and manage to intelligibly speak. “So you’re a policeman and a full time baker. Any other super powers?”

“Ah, no. I’m afraid not. Being a policeman doesn’t offer much downtime. I love it though, it’s a pretty fulfilling job.”

But perhaps enough downtime for a girlfriend? I’m tempted to ask, which is ridiculous. It’s none of my business if he's dating anyone. I’m just the drunken girl he’s arrested and taken pity on, enough pity to keep me company for the moment and even share the best baked treat I’ve had in my life with me.

But who cared what motivated him as long as he was here, right? So we talk and we talk and we talk, exchanging questions then jokes then stories. I tell him about my college classes and Environmental Science course and my part time job at the vet.

I tell him about the little girl with plaited blond hair who’d recently brought in an ill-tempered stray cat named Buttercup who for some reason had instantly hated me and proceeded to scratch me a grand total of 18 times.

He laughs and tells me about his little brother Rye and his first time making bread on his own, which ended up in a charred block of dough. He tells me about a recent case of his where this woman named Effie had sent threatening letters to the wrong lady, a distinguished corporate lawyer, rather than the Starbucks cashier that was actually her husband’s mistress and the hilarity that ensued after she found out.

The conversation is so easy and I’m enamoured by this man and the last thought to enter my head before he eventually gets called away and has to leave and I finally succumb to my alcohol induced mini-coma is of a pair of striking blue eyes.

* * *

A few hours later I wake up to the sunlight streaming through the bars of my cell. I’m groggy and my mouth is dry. My hair feels matted with sweat and the dark strands are probably still forming the remnants of a long gone fancy braid. My lacy black dress is wrinkled beyond saving.

“Morning!” Says a male voice that is entirely too chipper.

I blink a few times before I can finally focus on Peeta who’s standing in the now open doorway of my cell.

“Morning…” I reply, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

“So, you’re in luck Miss Everdeen, someone’s already come to take you home.”

“Katniss. You can call me Katniss.” I pause. “Wait, someone’s here for me? Must be Gale.”

“That’s the one...a Gale Hawthorne?”

“Oh thank god he’s here. I did not relish having to stay here any longer than I needed to.”

Peeta’s face looks more guarded than it had last night. Or rather, earlier this morning.

‘Yes, well, he’s here, so we can process you out.”

“Great.”

I’m taken to a desk at the front of the office where a middle-aged officer with lengthy dirty blonde hair sits behind the counter, looking bored with the world. He eyes me uninterestedly and as Peeta and I get closer I see that his name tag reads ‘Officer Abernathy’.

Officer Abernathy sluggishly carries out all the formalities and issues me an official warning. There's nothing for me to collect as the only thing I had with me when I was arrested were my clothes. It’d be a long time before I decided to take those off anywhere that wasn’t in the privacy of my apartment.

Peeta accompanies me to the entrance, he is strangely silent but he looks like he is thinking a million thoughts.

I can spot Gale’s Volvo in the parking lot from here, and I can see him walking up to the station entrance to come and get me.

“So, that’s your boyfriend I’m assuming?” Peeta finally speaks as we stand in the doorway waiting for him.

The idea shocks me, although it makes sense that he’d come to that conclusion. Madge used to think that Gale and I were an item too, but he’s always been more like my protective older brother rather than a lover.

“What? Gale? Ew no, that’d be like incest, it’d be almost illegal.”

He raises a lone eyebrow at me, smiling.

Right. I hadn’t exactly shown the greatest sense of distinguishment between what was legal and what was not. I blush in his presence yet again.

Gale comes up to us and his brown eyes are twinkling. “Well, Catnip, I gotta say, when Madge called and said one of you had gotten arrested I thought for sure it’d be Johanna. Guess I was wrong.”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Yes, well, Johanna’s got a worse punishment than getting arrested coming her way when I get my hands on her." I remember the officer standing next to me. “In the most innocent way of course.”

The quirked lip is back. I swear, for me, it was a weapon more lethal than the gun he carries in his holster. I blame that thought on the headache that I am currently dealing with.

‘Right..so uh, I guess this is it.” There’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I would probably never see Peeta Mellark ever again. Unless I decided to get arrested in this area again and hope to spend an hour or two in his company. The idea had merit. But no, I was already on my first official warning and I probably shouldn’t push the legal system.

I stick out my hand to him. He takes it and shakes it gently, his eyes seem to see inside me as they meet mine.

Almost reluctantly I turn away and start following Gale to his car.

“Hey, Katniss.” That husky voice suddenly calls out from behind me. “I’ll be picking you up at 8.00 tomorrow, just so you know. It’s a date."

I whirl around. He’s grinning and he’s got an annoyingly attractive cocky look on his face.

“Oh really? And how would you know where to pick me up from?”

He brings out his spiral bound notepad from his uniform pocket. “In here, remember?”

I flush yet again and this time I know that it’s definitely not the last time I’d be doing it in front of him. Oh no. If I had my way, this sweet, funny, intelligent and handsome officer and baker would be seeing that blush on my face for years to come.

“On one condition. There have to be cheese buns.”

“You got it,” he salutes me, beaming.

I’m walking on sunshine as I quicken my stride to catch up with Gale who’s already started up the car and as I do I hear a voice that sounds suspiciously like Officer Abernathy’s yelling from the station, “Good on you, sonny boy, you don’t see a girl like that everyday.”

* * *

A couple years later and I’m in a lacy dress once more, white this time, with the added accessory of a bouquet of Primroses. Next to me stands the man who arrested me all those years ago and won me over with a combination of his personality and his insanely good cheese buns. I like to tell him that it’s the buns that were really the deciding factor for me, but we both know that’s a lie.

He leans down and presses his lips to my ear as the photographer stops to reposition his camera.

“You know Katniss, you should have just walked up that aisle in your underwear, it’s my favourite look of yours.”

I glare at him. At least, I try to, but it’s hard with those blue eyes looking back at me.

“Keep up the jokes, mister, and you might not see that look again for a while,” I threaten him.

The smug look on his face is immediately wiped off.

* * *

I’m not yet 80, just a couple more years to go, but as I look at that familiar pair of periwinkle eyes gazing back at me with love in them, I feel like a young woman again. I turn back to the tiny toddlers playing on the ground in front of me.

Someday I’ll tell them, I’ll tell them the story of how their grandparents met. I’d tell them how Peeta likes to say that the only moral of the story is that you shouldn’t break the law, but I’d say that it was really that you probably shouldn’t play such a high stakes game of Truth or Dare, or simply ‘don’t accept stupid dares.’

And yet, when I look at where it got me, I suppose I should also say that there are certainly much worse games to play.

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supergraphicultramoderngirl · 5 years

Text

we got so close, so close to love

a tyrus oneshot that started as a vent fic and ended as something i only wish would happen to me

word count: 2,291 (it’s a big boi)

—————————

It’s been two years since they’ve last said a word to one another.

Honestly? Things had been going great, they’d gotten past Buffy’s old grudge, the gun incident, and Costume Day. Their friendship was going steady, and it even seemed like it could be leading to more.

And then it did.

TJ confessed his feelings to Cyrus at Andi’s 14th birthday party, and it was perfect. They sat on a bench away from everyone else, fairy lights and stars twinkling around them. He explained the real reasons behind everything that went down on Costume Day, and Cyrus told him he returned his feelings almost a little too eagerly. If their friends noticed they were that much more happy and clingy during the rest of the party, they didn’t say anything.

And that’s when it all went wrong.

The next day, Cyrus sent TJ a text that said, “We can’t talk anymore. Bye, TJ.” Completely out of the blue, unprompted. It didn’t make any sense. The most wonderful thing had just happened the night before, why did it have to end so soon?

But it didn’t matter, because it did end, and when TJ tried to text him back, all he got was a message saying that he’d been blocked. So, he figured he had a pretty valid reason to be crying on and off for the next few days, you know, considering he just lost the one person who knew him better than anyone, who he lo— really liked. Actually, fuck it, he loved him. A lot. And now he was gone.

When trying to go up to him and talk to him the next day, he was only thrown a pitiful look from Andi and Buffy, with the latter adding, “I’m sorry, but you have to go, TJ.”

Cyrus never even looked up at him.

The two drifted apart after that, and although it was entirely agonizing for TJ, he dealt with it. Most of the time, at least. If his line of sight drifted over to the brunette boy every once in a while during lunch, it was nobody’s business.

The worst part of it all was having to start high school without Cyrus. He was a lone wolf for the most part, considering the friend group stopped talking to him when Cyrus did, despite the sorry looks still thrown his way sometimes. He started talking to Reed again, who luckily had apparently learned his lesson from the gun incident. He actually kept up with his school work, and he didn’t make as many dumb jokes anymore. Plus, he came out as pan during that year, so TJ could at least relate to him a little bit more. TJ got more involved in basketball, and he occasionally went to GSA meetings now that he was out, just to scope it out and maybe meet some new people. Definitely not to run into an old friend, an old almost.

10th grade was normal throughout the majority of the year. He was finally starting to really get over the whole Cyrus situation, and although he got nostalgic over it sometimes, he knew that it was in the past. There was nothing he could do about it now. He got more help in math and got his first A-, which he may or may not have cried over, and he picked up soccer alongside basketball. He’d gotten really busy, so he didn’t spend a ton of time with friends unless they were his teammates, but the soccer players were nice enough, and he didn’t expect his friendship with Reed to last long, anyway.

This is why he was surprised to hear a text notification from his phone at the end of practice, thinking it would be an out of nowhere text from Reed. It sure as hell was an out of nowhere text, but it wasn’t exactly from Reed.

It was from Cyrus.

It read, “I have some explaining to do if you’ll let me. You know where I am.”

TJ almost didn’t want to go. It had been nearly two years since they’d last spoken, since they’d last seen each other. It took him two years to get over what had happened. Did an explanation even matter at this point? It would just be a nuisance, wouldn’t it?

At the same time, what had happened never really gave him closure. He never even got to say goodbye to him. It was going great, and then it wasn’t. TJ kinda wanted to know why.

He shoved his things into his bag and sling it over his shoulder, sneaking out without anyone noticing he was gone. Not like that was any different.

Tj walked over to the swings, nostalgia hitting him in waves, his eyes getting misty for what felt like no reason. When he arrived, he noticed two things: the swings were way rustier and more covered in cobwebs than he remembered, and that he would always recognize the back of the head of a certain brunette in an instant. He walked up slowly, unsure of how to approach this entire situation. He didn’t have to, though, because Cyrus looked behind him the second he heard footsteps. “You came.”

TJ sighed and blinked hard, forcing the light out of his eyes. “Of course I came.”

“You wanna sit?” Cyrus asked, grabbing the chain of the swing next to him.

“I-I’m good,” TJ mumbled in reply, simply stepping a bit closer.

Cyrus sighed heavily, standing up to face TJ. “So I have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yeah, you already said that in your text,” TJ said, lifting up his hand that held his phone.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

TJ scoffed unintentionally. The old TJ would’ve done that in a heartbeat, but he’d changed. Or at least he had once. “How about the beginning? Why’d you stop talking to me? Everything was going so great, why’d it have to end so soon?”

“That’s a long story,” Cyrus muttered, twiddling his fingers.

TJ responded shortly. “That’s why I’m here, Cyrus.” After a beat of silence, he added, “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, we can just go back to ignoring each other like we have been for the past two years. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me,” Cyrus replied, sounding the most sure of himself then than he did during the entire conversation. “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have shown up if I didn’t, Cy.” The nickname didn’t mean to slip out, but he couldn’t help himself. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

Cyrus opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. “Can we please sit down for this?”

“Fine,” TJ said, taking a seat next to Cyrus, neither of them kicking their legs up to move.

“I was so excited about us, TJ, you have no idea. I even woke up smiling, I remember. That was my first mistake. I went downstairs to get breakfast, and my stepmom saw how happy I was, so she asked about it. I figured, she’s never said anything bad about the LGBT+ community before, plus she’s a therapist so she must deal with gay patients all the time, so I wanted to tell her about me. And us. So I did.” Cyrus took a deep breath. “That was my second mistake.”

TJ’s face dropped. “Oh my g—“

“I’m not done,” Cyrus cut him off. That was new. TJ wondered if he had any influence in that.

“She called my dad in the room and told him what I told her, as if there was something wrong with it. She started bawling, saying that she was so disappointed that I would never had kids, and that I was too young to really know what I’m talking about, and that this is what happens when I hang out around ‘delinquents like you’. And my dad didn’t help either, he just stood there fuming. They made me send you that text, and block you on everything, and stop talking to you, and I did it because I’m a coward and I couldn’t handle being such a... disappointment.”

TJ gently put his hand on Cyrus’ shoulder. “Cyrus, that’s horrible. I’m so, so sorry that you had to go through that alone.”

“Yeah, well, they wanted to keep it under wraps because they were so ashamed about it, so they never told anyone, including my mom and stepdad, so at least I felt more comfortable with them. I only told Andi and Buffy about it. Buffy actually wanted me to go behind their backs and keep seeing you anyway because she saw how happy you made me, but I just couldn’t do that to them.”

TJ sighed, bringing his arm back down and leaning back a bit without falling off his seat. “I get it, I still haven’t come out to my parents yet because I’m pretty positive they’re homophobic, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them, you know? And at least you were able to talk to the girls about it, even if they didn’t fully understand it.”

A small smile appeared on Cyrus’ face as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah. I’m really grateful for them.”

TJ smiled softly, happy to finally get some closure over what had happened between them. He quickly furrowed his eyebrows, however, asking, “There’s one thing I don’t get, though.”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you want to tell me now? After two years of not talking?” TJ asked, no undertones or cruelty or judgement, just curiosity.

Cyrus chuckled to himself. “I didn’t know if I would have to explain this part or not. Guess I do.”

“Hey.” TJ places his hand on Cyrus’. “I’ve already forgiven you, okay? You don’t need to be worried anymore.”

“I am anyway, you should know that,” Cyrus joked, then took a deep breath. “Anyway, my stepmom and my dad said that they had to move because the shrink office they operate out of relocated. And we got in a pretty big fight, and I brought up the whole gay thing again because they basically disregarded it and pretended it didn’t happen for like a year and a half which is pretty damn frustrating, and they said that I might as well live with my mom and stepdad, so I said that yeah, I might as well. And, well, now I do, and I only have to go see my other set of parents every month since they still technically share custody of me. But, they’re not a problem anymore, TJ.”

“That’s great! Wait—”

“I can talk to you again, if you want me to,” Cyrus mumbled, a bashful smile on his face.

“I mean, of course I want to talk to you again, Underdog.”

Cyrus smiled and bit his lip at the oh so familiar nickname.

“But—“

And then his face dropped.

“If you were thinking about anything more than that, anything romantic, you know, I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” TJ explained, trying to word his emotions as carefully as possible.

“That’s,” Cyrus exhaled, “fine. I wasn’t expecting to jump into anything, anyway. I just really wanted you back in my life,” he chuckled.

“I’m glad, I wanted you back too,” TJ replied, a goofy grin on his face that could only be induced by Cyrus.

Cyrus groaned, leaning back and almost falling out of his swing, “You have no idea how hard these past two years have been, oh my goodness!”

TJ laughed, his first real laugh in a long time, “I know, right?”

Cyrus looked down, then back at TJ. “At least we don’t have to face it alone anymore.”

TJ simply giggled in response, just so, so grateful for having him back.

Flash forward two months, it was as if the two had never been separated in the first place. TJ began sitting with their friend group at lunch again, everyone genuinely happy to see him. They all went to his basketball and soccer games, Cyrus bringing posters every time, while he tagged along with the group for Buffy’s basketball games and Jonah’s frisbee meets. He and Cyrus frequently went on “hangouts”, which Andi and Buffy loved to tease Cyrus about. And, it was on one of those hangouts when TJ finally got the guts to do what he’d been wanting to do for two years.

They went out for ice cream on a Saturday evening, and were sitting on a park bench enjoying their chocolate soft serve and blueberry vanilla twist (guess who’s who). TJ looked over to Cyrus, who had some ice cream on his face, and it was almost subconscious the way he lifted his hand to wipe it off. Cyrus looked right into his eyes, and TJ knew then and there that he could get lost in those chocolate galaxies for the rest of his life. His hand stayed on Cyrus’ cheek, and he whispered as if he would break the moment if he spoke any louder when he asked, “Can I try something?”

Cyrus didn’t even answer, he simply quickly got the memo and leaned in to kiss TJ like he’d been wanting to for the past two months, or rather, two years. It didn’t quite feel like fireworks going off and a chorus singing behind them, it felt more like an electric shock going down each of their spines while a warm blanket was wrapped around their shoulders. They touched foreheads as they pulled apart, giggling to themselves, because it finally happened. Two years of waiting, and neither of them would’ve traded it for anything in the world if they knew it would’ve ended like that.

Finally.

#andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #my fic #my writing #fic

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lokikingofasgardslover713 · 6 years

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Asena {Oneshot}

Masterlist

Thor Odinson x Plus Size Jotun OFC x Loki Odinson

Warnings: Blood, gore, kinda

A/N: This is my brain storm of a fic. It is more or less an AU, in which both Thor & Loki are blood related and share the same parentage, true brothers in other words. Laufey has a daughter that is a runt so to say that is traded to Odin to wed both his sons as a peace treaty so the Alfather wouldn’t destroy Jotunheim after finding they were plotting to attack Asgard the day after Laufey’s daughter was to be given the throne. She, Asena (I named this one, name means Wolf Mother) is wed to both Loki & Thor & is to bare them children but Thor first, but she goes to both in efforts to make them jealous though it backfires on her. This is a teaser due to the fact I may or may not continue it.

Words: +2,100

The loose tunic did very little to shield curvaceous body from the cold of the throne room, but that was a thing Asena was accustom to, it actually felt boiling hot at the moment, glad the fight had shredded the sleeves of the tunic to expose soft arms. The pants hadn’t faired to well either, cut up, body aching due the extra strain the additional weight had put on the large framed giantess who was trying to hold the pain & fatigue at bay long enough to exact revenge then she could rest. Noting tremors in powder blue arms littered with heritage lines as crimson orbs glared into the ones before her both baring fangs with a vicious snarl as well.

Heart rate elevated to the point it roared through powder blue ears, it was burning hot in this hell of ice, breathing was shallow but not due to any wounds the giantess had received in the fight, the old leather skinned Jotun at fur covered feet with throat barred to the small females blade had to receive her full attention. A grin plastered wickedly plastered across azure blood splattered face, blood of her own people she slaughtered to get to him, her father, the king, to make him pay for trading her to the Aesir like a piece of fucking meat.

Always scowled at for being a runt, a weed, a thorn in the side of her people & father, the great king of the Jotunheim, Laufey. The useless old giant brought to his knees by his own daughter for the trade off to the Aesir king Odin to the princes, Thor & Loki, as breeding stock to unite this shit hole of a kingdom with the Asgardians. Fodder, all Asena was, fodder the instant her mother bore her, a small squeaking creature as they called her, now great with child, twins, seeming the princes were all too happy to make sure the giantess bore their seed sooner than later.

The life in her womb close to being brought forth as the blade dug deeper into Laufey’ throat to draw cerulean blood, using all her seidr to keep the old bastard on his knees, showing more than just heritage lines but shimmering black ink tattooed all over thick body. The intricate knots interwoven with various beast & ruins, all with a delicate female quality & flowed beautifully with the woman’s voluptuous curves. They were meant to mark Asena as an accomplished sage, the life in her womb kicking hard, swearing they were getting ready though she had longer or thought she had.

“I told you, you would pay! You traded me like livestock! Like a fucking slave to save your own leathery hide,” Asena snarled, hiding the twitch in lower abdomen, digging the blade deeper, it was a gift from Frigga after the marriages.

“Hum, my precious seed, now it seems your husbands will see you for the monster you truly are, only after the crown, the throne, willing to slaughter your own blood to do so,” Laufey snarled at the small giantess with a devilish smirk of his own, catching movement out of his peripheral that she hadn’t yet, the old giant seeing the pain in her eyes & body as Asena tried so desperately to hide it.

“Shut up you piece of shit! I will spill your blood & take what is mine! You were to relinquish the Jotunheim to me that day, had you not gotten wind of the forces Odin mustered to take down our growing numbers! Coward!,” the giantess snarled, still too focused on the giant before her to realize they had gathered an audience, one to awe struck by what they seen to make a move at the moment.

“Coward? Oh no dear one, I am not the coward, I feel you had spread your legs in fear as well. Your belly in tainted with their seed now. There is no way you will be allowed near the throne of Jotunheim,” the older giant sneered with a quick glance down to extended belly that was barely covered by the tunic he realized had to have belonged to Thor, giving Asena all undue attention, the old giant wanted to see his daughter break. “I should have culled you the day you were born Asena... but then again, the ruthless slaughter & chaos you created may have the Jotunheim fearing what may happen if they do not bow to the runtling spawn of her predecessor,” he sneered, this time squinting his eyes at the pain as the blade dug deeper/

“You killed my mother, you deserve this, I told…,” Asena hesitated in her soliloquy as a pain passed through the giantesses lower stomach, this time the creatures in distended womb stilling, a pain following to lower back forcing focus on the giant before her making sure he stayed on his knees.

“You're close. Do you have time to finish what you stared or will you hide behind your weakness as a runt, a female burdened with the seed of the enemy & let your princes take care of the problem, you're nothing without…,” Laufey tried to finish, the blade biting more, seidr burning cold.

Rage consumed Asena more than the pain, keen hearing picking up them, heard… a sound besides the blade ripping through flesh, severing bone, only taking little more effort as crimson orbs bore into her own in disbelief that this was truly & finally happening. Becoming hard to breath, a sinister smile making the giantesses face ache, blood splattering as Laufey’ head fell to the cold stone to roll down the dais body dropping with it.

The giantess, no, the queens crimson gaze following it's roll to the foot of the steps, eyes falling on the very princes that had been spoken of, covered in blue blood themselves but obviously in shock of their wife before them. They knew of her heritage, that was why it was arranged, the woman always refusing to hide powder blue skin even in court but the sparkling tattoo that marked Asena as a sage, seeress, a more highly valued member of Jotun society than just the one & only daughter of King Laufey.

They’re lips moved but she truly couldn’t hear them over the rumble in her ears, the pain burning white hot in lower abdomen, had her full attention now as it came in waves. The stunned giantess looking away to take a stumbling step back to the tall seat the dead giant once occupied, drawing the sword up to keep the two at the base of the steps while floundering to lift aching, ailing body to the seat with a mad man’s smile plastered across her face as she finally seated.

The two gods at the base noting what looked to be Loki’ tunic & a pair of Thor’ cotton pants along with furs wrapping bare feet where all their wife wore. Crimson orbs glaring at the two as she continued to smile wickedly, the feeling of another contraction crossing blue features, that’s what the pain was, contractions she realized as a trickle of wetness beginning to saturate the pants, feeling it warm underneath her.

It was obvious by the warmth the children were taking after their Aesir fathers, they would be here soon, mind clouding over with pain as another hit, the clang of a sword falling to the stone having lost her grip on it. Crimson orbs falling on the very two fathers as they hurried up the steps, talking, always talking but this time Asena truly couldn’t hear them as another hit, thick form doubling over this time baring fangs at the pain & letting out a primal grunt.

Shivering with dread this time as a hand laced into blood soaked ebony locks to help Asena through the contraction as it began to burn, the fingers feeling like Loki’ as it appeared Thor was to terrified to touch his wife. Never realizing one of them was reaching to lift their wife into their arms, the startled giantess letting out a yelp a the sudden motion of being jerked into strong arms to be swallowed in golden light before placed onto a soft bed in the healers chambers.

It was a rush, though the two princes were sure to stay close to Asena despite the orders being barked by the guard that had entered, only for it to end in heartbreak the instant the two infants, both boys, not small by any stretch of the imagination where handed off to the princes to be pushed out of the room while the healer tended to the mother.

The powder blue, almost bare giantess struggling to get to the children before one of the healers gave her a sedative to make her calm, falling into a dreamless sleep. Though not long Asena woke in her chambers that were only accessible by stepping through either Loki or Thor’, no other way in or out & what attributed to the attempt to play one against the other but from her lonely deflated state looked to have back fired.

Sore body stretching out to realize she was completely alone forcing weak self to sit-up, food on a table next to the lonely king size bed, dressed in a loose gown & in a silent room. No crying, no cooing, no little squeaking babes that once had her stomach distended but now a deflated shell left in their wake. This was it, breeding stock, it was fitting, heartbroken body sliding back onto the mattress gingerly, well maybe she should get what rest she could before being summoned to breed with the two again.

Asena choosing to never stir unless she felt it, like she had to, forcing weak body to get to numb feet to hide in the small bath any time any one came into the room, having tried to leave the chamber but it was always locked to her now. Well it was… it was to much, finally refusing to force herself to live, to do anything but to lay in the bed unmoving, the maids left to tend to the giantess in attempts at getting Asena to function.

The third day of the princesses refusal to react, found the chamber door opening after the last meal had been brought & sat on the table while she laid in bed. Asena letting out a sight that the maids where back to get her to eat, but the presence that sat at her back was heavier, moved differently & there was a small squeak coming from them as well.

“Asena, wife, why don’t you turn to look at our son,” came Loki’ quiet voice, a light calloused hand rubbing gingerly along curvy side as she cautiously did as asked, afraid of repercussions since it was possible.

The god flinching at the stone-cold look in crimson orbs, meeting emerald gaze before looking over the bundled creature the god held, Asena finally sitting up to prop on the pillows with the aid of Loki. Carefully the god helped the giantess settle before placing the small black-haired boy into powder blue arms to look down in to emerald eyes that sparkled as they looked up his mother.

“What did you name him,” Asena asked trying to keep emotion in check, heartbreaking as she pushed the little boy back into his father’s arms to cross hers over her stomach to look off into space.

“You named him love, Bjorn,” Loki confirmed watching the giantess shake her head in acknowledgment but not wanting to look away from the foot of the bed.

“Is he growing like he should? No ailments,” she spoke coldly the god placing the bundle into the woman’s lap, moving around carefully to sit next to thick form to pull in close, Loki feeling her trying to be cold to hide all emotion to protect herself from heartbreak.

“Look at him wife, he is fine,” Loki continued to speak kindly, pulling the fur away from the little bundle to reveal a ball of linen that still refused to uncurl at the moment, Asena still not touching the little boy but at least she was looking the squeaking bundle over.

“The other, what did Thor name him,” she spoke, looking over the little boy to cover him but not touching him.

“You named him as well, Talon,” Loki spoke calmly, knowing Asena was broken beyond what originally believed, the giantess shutting crimson orbs as the chamber door opened for Thor to step in with his own bundle looking surprised Loki was there but continuing in.

Without a word Thor sat on the opposite side, placing the twin next to his brother for the two to curl around each other as if still in the womb. The two gods could see how desperately Asena ached to touch the two but didn’t dare as she began to feel tired. Looking to the two fathers with tired crimson orbs, begging them silently to take the boys from her lap & leave, but they only sat closer as she fell asleep against the head board, the twins in her lap.

Tags are open and reblogs are always WELCOMED!

Tags: @dark-night-sky-99 @prettybubblesintheair @gramaeryebard @reallyheckinggay @jovanna-shewolf @andiyholly @katstablook @nickyl316h @beets1bears1battlestargalactica @aslandia726 @moonfaery @furstinnajoelle @itsbqueenthings @lookwhatyoumademequeue

@whovianwookie86-captainxev@jazzieomega @tomhardy41 @get-loki

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki (marvel)#thor odinson #thor fanfiction #thor x ofc #jotun ofc

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millennial-star-gazer · 6 years

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Grey Days( reuploadfrom dragon-shield-maiden account)

Grey Days

Vera's May Prompt Challenge 2018 Prompt(s)9when on dragon-shieldmaiden): "Don't leave me! (Sort of implied in an angsty sense of the word) Genres: Romance, Fantasy, Friendship/Family, Angst/Drama Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy(due to this being from Natsu's/E.N.D's Perspective), Gothic fiction, and Poetry

Characters: Natsu/E.N.D, Lucy , Gray, Diamara, Igneel and Zeref Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy/ E.n.d Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: K+-T for some violence, references to death, mature and dark themes. Reader Discretion is advised for those younger than 12 or 13 years and/or anyone who may not at the level of development (maturity) to handle such heavy subject matter . Side note: Please use your own judgement and proceed with caution before deciding to read If uncertain as to whether you're comfortable with such themes.

Summary: Without his most precious star and father's light, the demon of hellfire is lost—all days perpetually gray. For the loss of his beloved really does drive the heart mad. A retelling of the events surrounding Natsu's/E.n.d's transformation (chapters 503-505) from his perspective in poem form. Title taken from the song of the same name by Chelsea Wolfe. Originally For Vera's May Prompt Challenge and Nalu angst week 2018 on previous accounts . Nalu/Endlu

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial Stargazer (formerly known as twishadowhunter/ comsicdragonqizard/dragon-shield-maiden/star-crossed-dragon! I'm finally back under a new name (on fanfiction and tumblr as millennial-star-gazer) after months of forced hiatus due to personal extenuating circumstances (which can be explained via private message for those who already don't know why) This time it's an reupload of an installment in the wonderful universe of Fairytail—an angsty gothic little ditty retelling the events of chapters 503-505 and other related chapters mostly from Natsu/E.n.d's perspective which was originally as an entry for Vera's May Prompt Challenge and for Nalu angst week 2018 on my previous dragon-shield-maiden account (tumblr). As you may know, the title is taken from the evocative song of the same name by the lovely Chelsea Wolfe which has heavily inspired the poem.

Yes, I know there's been a lot of poems on my profiles, though I do also write other kinds of non-poetry works if my ongoing fics Tantric Flames and the Draconic Demon -soon to be reuploaded by the way- among others are anything to go by). Also partially by Within Temptation's The Heart of Everything plus the musical body of works from Peter Grundy (Bury My Heart) Brunuhville (River of Tears), Nights Amore (This Dreadful Emptiness , That Which is Called Void, Twisted Goa: Lone Deranger , and A Billion Stars Will Die Today) and Adrian Von Ziegler (Ashes, Twisted, Heaven's Touch, One, My Everything, Ethello-iel and Even in Death) who are all incredibly talented composers in their own right that you should check out! (The songs can be found by by clicking on the song titles or via google. Also see below for "Grey Days" if on Tumblr)

Anyway, I don't think y'all need me warning you that spoilers are present when it's already pretty apparent. Without further ado, here's the poem. Don't forget to let me know what you think by leaving a leaving comment/review. (Links to everything below, sidebar and bio if on tumblr plus Fanfiction profile). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: As you all know by now Fairytail does not belong to me, but the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this labour of love wouldn't be possible.