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ta-ether · 3 years

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Something I’ve been thinking about lately is Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship. Not in how it’s presented in any particular property – this isn’t an analysis of how they appear in The Song of Achilles, or Hades – but more how their relationship is in the Iliad.

I guess the thing that’s been in the back of my mind ever since I read the Iliad (god, was it the summer before junior year of high school?) seven or so years ago, is that while Achilles and Patroclus are held up as this wonderfully romantic couple, this often comes at people glossing over certain aspects of their relationship that are complex or ask questions that have hard answers. Namely, the one that’s been niggling at me is the question that if Achilles is supposed to have loved Patroclus so much, why did he let him go out to fight?

The wonderful thing about Homer, the thing I so desperately love about Homer, is that there is such ambiguity to things. Homer seems to deliberately sidestep giving us concrete answers. The Iliad is a poem that thrives on nuance, and that extends to the exact nature of the relationship between these characters.

While Achilles swears early in the Iliad he won’t fight until his dignity is restored, Patroclus has a much softer heart (in addition to not having been wronged by Agamemnon). Patroclus’ arc from Book 1 to the beginning of 16 is watching the effect Achilles’ absence has on the rest of the Acheans. Achilles himself retreats into his ship and sends Patroclus out for news of how the battles are going, meaning it is Patroclus who is privy to the pain being wrought, and it is also Patroclus who Nestor eventually asks to intercede on the Argives’ behalf.

After the Trojans start seizing the Achean’s ships in Book 15, Patroclus finally goes and asks Achilles if he’ll return to the battle, or failing that, if he can go in his place and armor. He runs up and Achilles asks him why he’s crying like a little girl. Patroclus starts by saying “don’t be angry with me,” but then quickly himself becomes angry at Achilles after explaining how all of their friends and allies are wounded and suffering on the battlefield:

“But it’s impossible to deal with you, Achilles. I hope anger like this rage you’re nursing never seizes me. It’s disastrous! How will you be of use to anyone in later generations, if you won’t keep shameful ruin from the Argives? You’re pitiless. Perhaps horseman Peleus was not your father, nor Thetis your mother— the grey sea delivered you, some tall cliff, for you’ve an unyielding heart.”

He finishes by putting forth Nestor’s suggestion that if Achilles won’t rejoin the fight, he should. “I could be a saving light for the Danaans,” he says. Achilles responds that since the Trojans have come to the ships, he will allow Patroclus to go out in his armor. Now, this is where, famously, Achilles tells him not to go press past the ships:

“Now, pay attention to what I tell you about the goal I have in mind for you, so you’ll win me great honour and rewards, so all Danaans will send back to me that lovely girl and give fine gifts as well. Once you push Trojans from the ships, come back. If Zeus, Hera’s mate, who loves his thunder, gives you the glory, don’t keep on battling those war-loving Trojans with me absent. You would decrease my honours.”

While Achilles is undoubtedly worried about Patroclus’ safety, he mentions his desire for the honor and rewards that his “returning” to battle would bring him. He also brings up (before he says Apollo might make an attempt on Patroclus’ life) that the reason he wants Patroclus to retreat is that it would decrease his own honors. You can chalk this focus on the honor he may or may not receive to many different things, the most charitable of which is that Achilles isn’t taking this very seriously, and perhaps neither is Patroclus. This is backed up by Patroclus’ flippant approach on the battlefield:

“Well now, there’s an agile man! What a graceful diver! […] I suppose these Trojans must have acrobats as well.”

The point still remains that for all the love that Achilles has for Patroclus, his first instinct – like it has been for the entirety of the Iliad to this point – is concern about his own pride and honor, not the safety of his closest friend or fellow Argives. War takes, but Achilles was more focused on what it gives, and then it took his closest companion.

While Patroclus has more of an idea of the horrors of what the Achaeans have been going through in recent books – specifically Book 11 – he still hasn’t been on the field of battle since before the Iliad started. Patroclus pushes on beyond the ships because of his desire to fight and his own refusal to stop, and it is for this reason he is killed by Hector and Apollo. The narrative remarks:

“How blind he was, poor fool! If he’d done what the son of Peleus had told him, he’d have missed his evil fate, his own dark death.”

We learn later from Patroclus’ ghost in Book 23 that one of his flaws, perhaps his greatest and deadliest, is that he can become blinded by passion and lose reason.

“I killed Amphidamas’ son, in my foolishness. I didn’t mean to, but I was enraged over some game of dice.”

The narrative and Patroclus himself admits that if he’d taken a moment to consider, to think rationally, he wouldn’t have felt the need to continue fighting the Trojans, or to kill Amphidames’ son. The thrill of war and perhaps his own desire for honors hid this from him, and this in effect kills him.

As I alluded to earlier, this isn’t something I think many people touch on when thinking about Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship: the idea that ultimately, it was perhaps Achilles who killed Patroclus – or at the very least, lead to his death. The Iliad does start like this, after all:

“Sing, Goddess, sing the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus— that murderous anger which condemned Achaeans to countless agonies and threw many warrior souls deep into Hades, leaving their dead bodies carrion food for dogs and birds— all in fulfilment of the will of Zeus.”

One of those souls sent to Hades was Patroclus. Achilles even acknowledges this in Book 18.

“Then let me die, since I could not prevent the death of my companion. He’s fallen far from his homeland. He needed me there to protect him from destruction.”

Patroclus’ death isn’t tragic merely because he died, but because the man who loved him could’ve protected him but didn’t, and he knows it. I don’t want to downplay Patroclus’ own hubris’ role in his death or place all the blame on Achilles – merely point out that for all the love Achilles had for Patroclus, he still didn’t go out to fight when asked: first by his friends and allies, and then by his closest companion. He instead lets Patroclus go out in his place. Achilles’ love ultimately wasn’t stronger than his own pride.

This isn’t to say there’s not a deep, meaningful relationship between these two characters. There clearly, textually is. These two people love each other, however that love is interpreted. But they are also deeply flawed people. And, for all his faults, Patroclus knows that about Achilles. He knew that Achilles might put his own pride over the lives of all the Argives, including him, and so he asked if he could go instead. Even Hector knows this, as before he kills him he says:

“You poor wretch, even Achilles, for all his courage, was no use to you. Though he stayed behind, he must have given you strict orders as you left.”

And, for what it’s worth, Patroclus doesn’t say that he blames Achilles, either here in front of Hector, or when he comes to Achilles as a shade in Book 23 (and characters in the Iliad are decently prone to blaming people for their deaths). Ultimately, he seems to accept Achilles, flaws and all, and desires for them to be reunited in death, as does Achilles.

Their relationship isn’t simple and it’s not straightforward, because these characters aren’t simple or straightforward. Achilles both loves Patroclus more than any other Argive including himself, and also loves his own honor and pride over Patroclus. The incapability of these loves directly leads to Patroclus’ death. Patroclus is also more measured and rational than Achilles, and also is clouded to reason, and this incompatibility leads to his death. If the point of the Odyssey is (in part) that the Trojan War caused unnecessary death, then perhaps Patroclus’ death is that in microcosm.

Still, I can’t help but read Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship as one that – to be blunt – failed. They couldn’t make it work, in life at least. If you read it as a sexual-romantic relationship, maybe that’s its own tragedy. I don’t say this to make people angry or even because I necessarily wholly believe it, but more because their relationship is imperfect and should be recognized as such. Personally, I think this relationship, broken but full of love and affection and flaws, is much more compelling than a perfect or unexamined one.

It goes back to why I love the Iliad in the first place: the characters are messy and rather than this detracting from their ability to impact the reader, it only heightens their ability to speak to us. Homer doesn’t provide concrete answers for things, but he doesn’t have to. Everything we need is on the page. Every time you return to the book, the characters show you something new. I noticed a ton of new things about Achilles and Patroclus while writing this, which really only strengthened my belief in the points I made here. The tragedy of Patroclus’ death is, in part, one of how pride hurts those you love the most. The idea that Achilles caused Patroclus’ death is one that shouldn’t go unexamined because it’s perhaps unsavory, because it is in examining it that the true depths of their relationship are brought to light.

There are so many more things I could’ve mentioned: Achilles and Patrolcus’ status as equals, the role the idea of “fate” plays in Patroclus’ death, how the role the gods play in Patroclus’ death effects all this – but I felt that I would let those be for perhaps another time. As it stands now, I feel as though I have (at least personally) answered my initial question. It’s not a simple answer, but it wasn’t a simple question about simple characters in a simple work. And that is both fine and also, in its own way, beautiful.

#the iliad #iliad #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #patroclus x achilles #achilles x patroclus #yelling into the void #im only sort of sorry for the amount of quotations this is even after editing them down #taessays

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Ray Sinclair

(My borderline alright gif)(Welcome to my first underrated movie headcanons post! This is from the movie Something Wild (1986))

(If you’re going to learn anything about me from this blog then you’ll learn that I’m a big fan of criminals.)

- You and Ray first met while you were dating a friend of his. He’d just gotten out of a stint in prison when you and your boyfriend had happened across him on the street. The two men greeted each other warmly as you stood off to the side, wondering who the hell this guy was.

- Finally, your boyfriend turned and introduced the two of you, letting Ray get his first good look at you. That was all it took for him to decide he wanted you and let’s just say that when Ray wants something...he gets it.

- He doesn’t immediately try to put the moves on you. If there’s anything Ray is its conniving and cunning; he’s willing to wait to make sure he gets things right. He studies your relationship, taking note of its weak points; all the touchy subjects and things that make you incompatible.

- At the same time he gets closer to you, showing you a good time and getting you addicted to the rush of adrenaline and the thrill that comes with being around him.

- Isn’t it sad that a man you barely know brings more excitement to your life than your own boyfriend. But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? That’s exactly what he wants you to think but it isn’t like he’s putting up a facade. He’s showing you exactly what it’s like to be with him, he just knows that the lifestyle will be too alluring for you to resist.

- Ray isn’t a great person, he knows that, everyone knows that. He’s a conman, a criminal, a bastard, the list can go on. Him being vindictive and two faced with your ex boyfriend is just the tip of the iceberg but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t actually care about you. He loves you that’s for sure, enough to plot an entire scheme to get you for himself.

- Honestly, all your relationship needed to fall apart was a little push and he was happy to provide it. A little instigation on his part and the two of you were exchanging screaming insults.

- It was only a matter of time before you two officially split up and let’s just say it wasn’t on good terms. Ray was the one who swooped in and comforted you, calling your ex an ass and offering to get your stuff from his apartment.

- To be fair you weren’t all that upset, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how much he was dragging you down. You were finally free to do whatever you wanted and so...Ray asked you to run off with him.

- You’d been happily prancing around your room when he first asked, too caught up in your own excitement to hear him correctly so you had to ask him to repeat himself.

- When you finally heard the question you were shocked, the smile faded from your face a bit as you processed what he was actually asking you. Sure you’d wanted to leave your town for a while, see the world a little and live your life but could you really do it, and with Ray for that matter? Sure he was attractive and you liked him a lot but this was a huge step. You couldn’t exactly go back once you’d started.

- It took you a minute to come to your decision. You were free... and you were gonna stay free. You packed up your things, kissed your life goodbye and hopped in the car with him, never looking back.

- Whatever you want to do the two of you will do. Is it considered a date if you’re just living out your lives together?

- You rarely leave each other’s sides and you rarely want to. You’re as comfortable as can be with each other.

- Lots of pda, homeboy would legitimately fuck you in public if you let him.

- His go-to pet name is baby and he calls you it often.

- Ray can be a real sweetheart when he wants to be and he saves all his sweetheart points for you. You’re the only person he’s ever nice to without there being an ulterior motive behind it.

- He honestly thinks you’re the most amazing girl he’s ever met. You’re beautiful, smart, sweet, talented; the list could go on and he’d happily read it out to you if you cant see what he does.

- He loves having you model clothes for him. He’d steal you expensive outfits just so he could watch you try them on and tear them off you afterwards.

- Acting gentlemanly has never been like a conscious decision of his, he just opens doors for you (etc) because that’s what you’re “supposed to do”.

- You do a lot of moving around so get used to being in cars and packing up your stuff constantly.

- Sleeping in the passenger seat of his car while he drives to your next destination. When you’re awake, he likes to keep one hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

- Ray has no shame and that’s a fact. He isn’t afraid to make a fool of himself for you.

- He always checks on you when he thinks something may be wrong. He may overreact a little in certain situations but it’s all coming a good place.

- You catch him staring a lot, sometimes it’s innocent other times it feels like he wants to eat you alive.

- He’s really protective of you, that’s part of the reason why he watches you so much. He doesn’t like having you out of his sight just in case something happens to you or you need him.

- He finds nearly everything you do amusing. You could be killing someone and he’d find a way to make a teasing comment about it.

- He takes pride in seeing you become more like him. Whenever you do something wild he can’t help but smile.

- He’s probably taught you how to use a gun. You spend some weekends sitting in an isolated area with him, shooting cans off of broken fences and bins.

- Learning how to patch him up and reset his broken noses. Get used to blood, that’s all I’m saying.

-Sometimes he genuinely amazes you with how tough he is. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone in your life that can handle a broken nose like it’s just an inconvenience.

- He likes going through your things so I don’t suggest owning things you wouldn’t want him finding. He does it out of curiosity and boredom rather than suspicion so don’t read into it too much.

- He’s very...convincing. It’s hard to resist him when he asks you to do something or asks to do something to you.

- Play wrestling and just being overall kinda rough with each other.

- He’s one hell of a kisser. He takes your breath away on a daily basis.

- He likes to people watch and make fun of everyone with you.

- He has a thing for your shoulders. He just always seems to be touching them in some way whether it be laying his head on one or wrapping his arm around both of them.

- Late night trips around town. You have a lot of fond memories under the stars.

- Even if he thinks something is silly he can’t help but do it for you just to see you smile.

- Keeping a list of all the motels and hotels that you’ve visited...It’s a long list.

- He likes being able to carry you into your motel room/bedroom after you’ve fallen asleep in his car or on the couch. There’s just something about it that’s so precious to him.

- Sleeping in his shirts with your head resting on his arm and his body pressed against your back.

- Probably has your name tattooed somewhere on him. He also may or may not have gotten it done while in prison.

- Be prepared for a lot of surprises, he likes seeing the look on your face when he catches you completely off guard.

- Likes when you play with his hair. You can always calm him down with it, it’s your own little secret weapon against him.

- Fights are screaming matches but he never lets either one of you walk away. You’re going to fight until things get fixed and that’s just how it’s going to be even if he has to stand by and watch you cool off for an hour. The both of you can go to bed angry with each other but you’re still sleeping side by side and that’s final.

- He hates upsetting you; he always apologizes and knows exactly what to do to make things better though.

- To a certain degree he knows almost exactly what you need and want. Sometimes it’s annoying how right he is about you but other times it’s helpful. You find solace in the fact that there’s certain things about you that he’s just dead wrong about or that he doesn’t know about at all.

- Occasionally, he gets kind of insecure about your relationship because he isn’t sure if he can provide you with the future that you really want. Sure, his adrenaline junky, carefree ways are fun now but how long are you going to think so?

- He has high hopes for you even though you’ve chosen to spend your days with a dirtbag like him.

- He’s often quick to jealousy but he hides it well...to people other than you at least. You know the way he is so you can always spot the little quirks and cues that tell you he’s getting ticked off. That and the fact that he’ll grill you on who “that guy was” after you’ve walked away from them.

- Sometimes he’s ready to start a full on fist fight after hearing someone use a pickup line on you. Other times he likes to stand around and listen to guys talk about or attempt to flirt with you just to see how quickly their faces fall once they realize you’re together. Occasionally he’ll do both of those things just for the additional ego boost.

- He’s willing to fight for a woman like you.

- He likes telling you about his different robberies and schemes. Whenever he commits some kind of crime he just has to brag to you or mock the people he just messed with.

- You’re probably going to have to visit him in prison at least once, just saying. But hey, if you’re with him you already know what you signed up for

- He’s never afraid to admit how much he missed you.

- Even if you broke up with him (probably because of him being in prison, let’s be honest) he’d still be caught up on you and wouldn’t be able to stop himself from trying to get you back by any means necessary.

- He absolutely melts on the inside whenever you tell him you love him, especially if it’s after a fight or when you’re getting back together after a long time apart.

- Ray is a charmer so it wouldn’t be hard for him to get your parents to like him, it’s probably best that you leave out the fact that he’s been to prison though.

- You probably have a Vegas wedding on a whim one night pretty early into your relationship because that’s just how your relationship is. Funnily enough, you don’t regret it one bit.

#something wild #something wild headcanons #something wild headcanon #something wild imagine #80s movie imagine #80s imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movies #80s movie headcanon #80s imagines #80s movie #80s movie imagines #something wild 1986 #ray sinclair imagine #ray sinclair headcanons #ray sinclair headcanon

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curiosity-killed · 4 years

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12 may 2020 free-write

just lazy bb!calsir sketch

Word count: 1954

“Falling in love with him is a fool’s quest,” Jemma says. “Princes don’t marry weavers’ sons.”

Sirion scoffs, recoiling a little. “I am not in love with him,” he retorts. “We’re just — friendly.” He corrects himself at the last minute. Given Jemma’s mood, he has a feeling she’d only tell him princes don’t become friends with weavers’ sons either. She still shoots him a narrow-eyed look, her face stony and shut down in a way he rarely sees anymore. He stops, canting his head. “Commander, what is this about?” he asks. “Have I behaved in some way incompatible with the Legion’s creed?”

Her lips twitch, a pinch to the left. Crossing her arms, she looks away first — across the gardens, toward the palace walls.

“No,” she admits. “You have always comported yourself with dignity. I only—” Breaking off, she releases a deep sigh and closes her eyes briefly before turning back to him. Her arms drop from their crossed position at last.

“I do not wish to see either of you caught up in something that could be avoided,” she says. A grin slips over Sirion’s lips, and he suppresses it as best he can while giving a salute and bow. “I promise not to accidentally fall in love with the imperator princep, Commander,” he vows. From Jemma’s expression, she’d like him to take it a little more seriously, but she only rolls her eyes and starts walking again. It’s ridiculous, anyway. Sirion jogs to catch up with her and settles in at her side. Sure, he likes Callebero well enough, and he does, privately, count him among his friends, but Sirion has more sense than that. He’s not even interested in love right now; there’s too much to do before he can think about settling down. They cross into the Quarter to find company already waiting. The prince perches on the top rail of the fence, one knee drawn up and the other leg dangling down with the red skirt of his robes. His face is tilted toward the sun, but he still laughs and replies to Hayalen without shifting. Beside him, she leans against the fence with arms crossed and shakes her head. A smile plays at her lips. Two staves already lean against the fence. “Good morning,” Jemma greets, dipping in a bow. The prince’s lips spread in a grin as he turns to them and lifts his hand in a wave. Sirion folds over in a bow, but he returns the wave as he straightens. He can feel Jemma’s gaze on the side of his face and resolutely ignores it. They’re friendly. “I was not expecting to see you on the training grounds this morning, Your Eminence,” Jemma remarks. “There was a recess,” Callebero says, reaching both arms overhead to stretch. His shoulders crackle and he drops his arms. “And I was going to lose my mind if I sat in the council room without any fresh air for another minute.” Sirion bites his lip to stifle a snort of laughter. Callebero grins and lifts his chin slightly. “So, you going to spar or just stand around?” he asks. He doesn’t need to look to guess at Jemma’s exasperation, but she waves him on and walks over to join her wife. They clamber over the fence, and Sirion pauses. “Are you sure it is a good idea to spar in full skirts?” he asks, gesturing toward the long madu and faro hanging over Callebero’s legs. Even with the madu’s side slits and faro’s open front, it’s a lot of fabric that could tangle up and trip him. After years of sparring with Callebero, Sirion’s grown used to his tendency to go all in, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for the prince breaking his nose in the middle of the most political week in the capital. “Trying to get me undressed, are you?” Callebero teases, leaning on his staff. He laughs when Sirion rolls his eyes. “Undoing and redoing all this would take the rest of the day. Anyway, this way it’s practice in case something happens when I’m not in armor.” It doesn’t take knowing Callebero very well to see through that bullshit. Callebero slants his gaze over to him, one corner of his lips curling up in a grin, and Sirion has no option but do duck his head to hide his smile. “Then it is my duty to ensure you are prepared,” he replies. It’s not the most thrilling match they’ve ever had; despite Callebero’s words, Sirion does do his best not to trash the prince’s fine robes, and for once, Callebero lets him. It’s more of a dance, a conversation, than an actual fight. Callebero grins through most of it, the smile turning sharp at times when Sirion tests his focus. Sirion can’t help but grin back, that thrum of delight trilling in his veins. “You went easy on me today,” Callebero remarks after, knocking their shoulders together. Sirion breathes out a laugh and sets his cup down by his hip. “Well, what would all the noble families think if you returned with your back covered in dust?” he rejoins. Wrinkling his nose, Callebero takes a long drink of water. Turned to the front as he is, he gives Sirion full view of his profile, of the sharp lines from brow-nose-chin and the way the sun turns his dark eyes pale. “I’d rather stay out here all day than rejoin them,” he admits, turning his cup in his hands. Looking up, he flashes Sirion a too-bright grin. “I know, we can swap places for the day and you can handle them. You have a noble enough bearing for it.” He grins and bumps their elbows together as if hopeful. “Are they really so unbearable?” Sirion asks. “Some at least are of an age to you.” “Ah.” Callebero’s smile wanes into something tight and thin as his gaze falls back to his cup. “I prefer their elders,” he admits. Sirion bristles at the wryness of the statement, the suggestion that it isn’t that their elders are so much better but that the younger ones so intolerable, and Callebero straightens, laughing. “Peace, Sirion — no one is attacking me, and I can fight my own battles.” He takes the teasing admonishment and settles back, but it doesn’t wholly ease his raised hackles. “It is the duty of the Legion to protect House Soko from all threats,” he points out, raising an eyebrow. As hoped, the corners of Callebero’s lips curl up in amusement, and he shoots Sirion a sidelong look.

“Are you suggesting we attack anyone who makes a lewd comment about me?” he asks, teasing.

If anything, that has Sirion’s consternation doubling, and his brows pinch together. He isn’t sure what he expected the young nobles’ offenses to be, but he certainly didn’t expect lewdness. His arms cross without thought, lips pressed together in a seam. Catching his expression, a slow smile starts over Callebero’s lips. His gaze flicks over Sirion before he affects a pout, pressing his lips out even as his eyes are narrowed with amusement. “Aw, are you going to defend my honor?” he teases. “I thought all this practice was supposed to prepare you to do that,” Sirion retorts. Callebero hums and leans back on his palms, tilting his head to one side. The sunlight gleams against the black of his robes so that they almost turn white. “True,” he says, though he doesn’t quite sound like he believes it. “If I can’t defend myself from them, I really shouldn’t be prince.” Despite his words, his tone isn’t genuine. Sirion frowns, tapping the fingertips of his right hand against his left thumb. He’s used to Callebero’s moods fluctuating between solemn and bright, but he hasn’t seen this before: irritation and self-deprecation and disappointment all bundled together. “Is it anything—” he starts and then pauses, fingers half-curled on their way to an undecided sign. Callebero’s expression softens, a more genuine smile slipping over his lips. “Don’t worry about it, Sirion,” he signs, bumping their shoulders together. “People just like to gossip. And Jemma did warn me — repeatedly — this would happen.” He wrinkles his nose as he signs, the childish annoyance at odds with the graceful movements of his hands. A smile quirks Sirion’s lips, but understanding sinks lower. “They’re about you and Jisel?” he guesses. He still doesn’t know the whole story of how Jisel came to Arradine, but he knows Callebero well enough by now to know all the rumors are nonsense. Once, before he knew Callebero, before he understood the unswerving devotion he garners among the Legion, he might have thought the rumors carried some truth. Now, he is appalled that anyone could believe Callebero would abscond with a young princess and not have the face to be honest about it. Now, Callebero huffs out a breath, hands stilling briefly. When they first met, Sirion thought those slender hands were another sign of the prince’s spoiled upbringing, all delicate and limp. He’s well-acquainted with the error of that thinking by now. He’s learned the strength of them, the rough ridges of callouses on his palms and fingers from hours and hours of training. “I don’t get why they can’t just leave her out of it,” Callebero says. “I know they’re going to gossip about me — they always have — but Jisel doesn’t deserve it. She’s already been through enough.” Pausing, Sirion tilts his head in consideration. He doesn’t know all that Jisel has been through, but he thinks, to a certain extent, it doesn’t matter. Callebero would say that of any of the people he calls his own if it would protect them. His own position is, naturally, outside such mercy. He doesn’t know how to say that, though. It’s not as if he can tell the imperator princep to be kinder to himself. Part of him feels like he’s making it a bigger issue than it is to Callebero anyway: aside from the brief displeasure Callebero shows at having to mingle with nobility instead of soldiers and his close companions, he rarely seems to dwell on slights against him. Maybe he really does shed it like so much water off a duck’s wing. “At least we would make a handsome couple,” Callebero says, contemplative in a way that’s clearly a joke. Sirion snorts, but there’s a twist of displeasure in his chest. He likes Jisel, of course. If she and Callebero were at all inclined toward romance, he wouldn’t object. Not that he has a right to in the first place — but anyway, the point is that he doesn’t like the way Callebero seems to accept all this as inevitable and he doesn’t know how to fix that. “She’s too smart for you,” he says instead. “Hey!” Callebero bursts out, but he’s grinning. There’s delight in the surprised widening of his eyes, the laughter in his voice. Sirion grins, unrepentant, and Callebero shoves him in the shoulder. “I know that,” he laughs, “but you’re not supposed to say it.” Satisfaction and a quiet, smug hum, fill Sirion. The somber mood broken, he gathers their staves with a small smile as Hayalen and Jemma return. He doesn’t need to look to know Jemma is making a face as Callebero knocks their elbows together, a laugh in every absent motion. Callebero throws a last grin over his shoulder as Hayalen finally herds him back toward the palace, and Sirion gives a little wave after, his lips still curled up on one side. “Lieutenant,” Jemma says, looking like she’s about two breaths away from burying her face in her hands. He stifles his smile as he falls back in step, but there’s a lightness to his gait that carries him through the rest of the day.

#my writing #calsir #ch: callebero #ch: sirion #story: tcp #lazy pre-relationship noodling

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barisifictionarchive · 4 years

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Author: Juniperhoot

Preferred Name: Jenny

Have any events in your personal life ever influenced the things that you've written? Absolutely. STRAP IN.

Sometimes I rework something that happened to me, or to someone I know, and use it as a template for filling in personal details. See also: Carisi’s tale of molten aluminum burning holes in his ma’s kitchen flooring. That’s something that actually happened to me (well, it happened to my second husband, who got distracted while playing CounterStrike and let the pan boil dry). In one of my Stony stories, Steve tells Tony about a comforting gesture he learned from his mother - three squeezes of the hand, to silently say “I love you.” That’s something I learned from my Mema.

Beyond those bits of color, there are things that have made their way into my writing that come directly from my experiences. My interest in Sonny as a queer Catholic who once considered the religious life is something deeply personal to me, because that was my life, too. Even though I’m an atheist now, the church still holds some fascination for me, and I’m keenly interested in people who find a way to walk that line, and retain some belief while also retaining their autonomy and sense of self. The way I write Sonny is, in many ways, the way I think I would be, if I still believed. Okay, if I still believed AND were also a tall, noodly, bisexual man.

The way I write Rafael’s overthinking interior life is partly me, partly the things I’ve observed in people I’ve loved. The carefully chosen words, the moments of retreating from revealing too much of himself, the guardedness and tendency toward self-preservation that comes from growing up in an abusive home… all very relatable and possibly part of why I mostly write from his perspective, even though I generally consider myself more like Sonny. The shadows in Rafael’s heart are in my heart, too. My empathy is built on those shadows.

I wrote a Stony breakup fic years ago during a difficult time in my life. I’d reached a point where I had to remove some people from my life, because my priorities and theirs were so radically divergent. It felt like a big breakup. It reopened some feelings from my second divorce, and compounded what I was going through with another more recent breakup. Somehow, I used the pain and disillusionment of all that to write about two dudes in love, who found themselves in a crisis of trust and faith in one another. Of course, I also wrote them coming back together, and the work it takes to do that, because in my heart, I want to see good people work things out, if possible. And at least in my story, and in the way I view both of those characters, they ARE good people. In real life, some people really do need to be cut loose, when their values are wholly incompatible with your own. Some relationships can’t be mended. Some friendships turn out to be mostly one-sided. But hey, if they can be mined for material, they were worth it, right?

I’m in a less volatile emotional space these days, so my fics tend to reflect that. I’m the queen of domesticity and cute banter, and love that I’m getting to explore the quieter side of drama. I know I’ve said this before, but it’s worth saying again. It’s not all slamming doors and WE’RE THROUGH!, you know? There’s a marvelous sense of drama in the ways we try to negotiate cohabitation, or meeting the families of our romantic partners. There’s drama in supporting one another’s goals and ideals. At least, I think there is? And I hope my stories achieve that.

Do you have a favorite movie? I have a few, and they’re very different movies, because they reflect different aspects of my heart.

Pee-wee’s Big Adventure (1985) is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever seen, and it still makes me laugh, 35 years after its release. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen it. The stupid characters, the kitschy aesthetic, the score… it’s so very silly. I love it.

Singin’ in the Rain (1952) is, in my opinion, the most perfect Hollywood movie musical of all time. Everything about it works. The entire cast is outrageously talented, and attractive, and the songs are all memorable. The title song and dance routine never fails to elicit chills and a thrill of giddy joy in my heart. When Gene Kelly does that spin in the street, with the umbrella held out before him like a dance partner? Aaaaaiiiieeee. This is the movie that makes me wish I could dance.

A Room With A View (1985) is the sort of quiet, clever, understated romantic (in every sense of the word) movie I turn to again and again. It’s a gorgeous adaptation of a really smart, surprising book that left a mark on me when I first encountered it in high school. The score is lush and inviting, the cast is beautiful (and oh, those costumes!), the script is just fucking delicious, and of course, the scenery, from Florence to Kent, is exquisite. Plus, we get interplay between sincere humanism (the Emersons), religious belief (the Reverends Beebe and Eager), and the religious-by-default stances of so many of the other characters, whose participation in the religious life of the community seems to be more for societal expectations than anything else. It’s just beautiful, and one of the only movies I urge everyone to sit through to the very end, not because there’s a post-credits scene, but because the closing track that plays over the credits is fantastic.

Who is your favorite author? E.M. Forster, partly because of what I said above about A Room With A View. The novel is short, but crammed with interesting ideas and engaging dialogue. He has a unique voice that spoke to me as a teenager, and my appreciation for his writing has only increased over the many years since. Read Howards End. Read Maurice. Read Where Angels Fear to Tread. Read A Passage to India. But start with A Room With A View.

I know a lot of people would say Howards End is his masterpiece, and they’re probably right about that, but I’m telling you, the book that has meant the most to me over the years is A Room With A View. I’ve kept a copy of it with me since I first read it in 1985, and it’s traveled with me from Minnesota to Seattle and back again. Lucy Honeychurch’s ongoing muddle is something I’ve lived, and survived, and it means more to me every time I read the book. More than anything, it’s a book about authenticity vs hypocrisy, and that just fucking speaks to me, you know?

How did you start getting involved in fanfiction? Several years ago, I read a Sherlock fic called “The Road Less Traveled.” It was during the long, painful, post-Reichenbach Fall hiatus between series 2 and 3, and I found myself looking for something to read that would fill the gap. I’d never had much interest in fanfic before, but this thing did something to me.

I didn’t start writing fanfic until I saw an episode of Supernatural that I found upsetting. (Don’t get me started…) I started writing a little thing to try to fix the stupidity. I wrote a couple of things, but the show did everything in its power to kill my interest in it, so I drifted away. (That said, I am very proud of my short Destiel Christmas fic, which I still think is very cute and makes me wish things had played out differently.)

From there, I started writing Stony (Steve/Tony, mostly based on the MCU, but with some elements of various Marvel comics I’ve read over the years). I wrote several things in that fandom, and most of it was extremely stupid, but there are bits and pieces that I’m still rather fond of. I still want to finish my long fic that’s been gathering dust for a couple of years now. Oops.

How did you get involved with Barisi? Barisi is probably the first fandom that I’ve written for that really seemed to embrace me and encourage me to keep doing this. A friend of mine has been watching SVU forever, and would reference things occasionally on chat while she was watching it. (See also: SEX PARTY MEASLES BABY, an intriguing statement that I didn’t actually understand for YEARS.) I started watching SVU off and on, a few episodes here or there, sometime in 2018. I started at the beginning, and worked my way through the whole thing. When I started it, I was mostly in it for Olivia Benson. But I knew Raúl Esparza had been on the show at some point, and at the time, I was in the “oh, I think I remember seeing him in something, he’s good” camp.

It wasn’t until I got to season 14 that I lost my mind over the show. Rafael Barba is one of the greatest characters ever written for tv, and I’m so thrilled he came along and blew my frickin’ mind. My appreciation for Raúl Esparza went through the roof, and it made me go look for him in other things, which fed into my spiraling appreciation.

Fast forward to season 16. Sonny Carisi walks in, and is… a beautiful, mustachioed mess. I love him from the moment I see him, and I say, “Oh shit, this is the love of Rafael Barba’s life, isn’t it?” This is even before they’ve shared a scene. This is before they’ve blatantly checked each other out. This is just me recognizing the potential, and craving it. Then he shaves that stache and starts dressing better, and he’s shadowing Barba and they’re working cases together and Barba’s being KIND TO HIM? COME ON.

Naturally, I started thinking about writing them. And it wasn’t coming from a place of “I need to fix this episode” or “I need to work out a recent trauma” driving me. It was just “ugh, they have an amazing dynamic and I want to explore it and I want to see what their home life would look like.” That’s how I ended up writing Carisi’s Goddamn Legs. Suddenly I was being bombarded with thoughtful comments from readers. In one such comment, Maxi (mforpaul) asked me where I could be reached on other platforms, and messaged me privately about the story, and made a big deal out of tracking me down on Twitter, introducing me to the rest of the fandom. And that fandom turned out to be filled with really amazing people, who think about big issues like justice and queerness and representation. Those same people are also wonderfully silly and down to earth. The power of this fandom!

What inspires you to write? Lots of things. Life, because it is weird and messy and wonderful. My closest friend, who is a springboard for a lot of my nonsense, is always eager for me to write something new. My love of a ridiculous turn of phrase. The quest for dialogue that sounds in-character and natural. Sometimes, it’s just the seed of an idea, a thought that won’t leave me alone, like, “I bet a short king would be obsessed with those long, noodly legs.” Because I, a short queen, am similarly obsessed.

Sometimes, when the writing fever is upon me, it’s hard to sleep, hard to think of anything other than the story I’m working on. I just want to get it all out and done. If I’m writing something that I really enjoy, or feel very closely connected to, I physically tremble as I write. When that happens, I know I’m on the right track, and I don’t want to stop writing. I just want to inhabit that space, and wallow in that feeling.

What is your favorite fic that you have written? Carisi's Goddamn Legs is really something. The pining, the uncertainty, the slowly dawning realization, but most of all, that scene at Lorenzo’s, where it all comes to a head and the way it creeps to the edge of intimacy and then is interrupted by Lorenzo and a retreat to the casual, only to be sent right back to the edge… I’ve re-read the damn thing several times since I wrote it, and that scene gets to me every time. I really like it a lot. I like the dynamic between them so very much, and the way the truth tumbles out of Carisi literally makes me shake.

What is your favorite quote from a fic of yours? Ooh, yikes, this is hard. I have a couple of lines I really like. One is short, one is longer. Just like Barisi.

One of them (from Carisi's Goddamn Legs ) was something I gave to Olivia, as she tries to counsel Rafael on his worries that his emotional armor isn’t protecting him the way it used to.

“Wear and tear, I guess. Armor was never meant to be worn all the time.”

It’s a line that means something to me, personally, because I spent a substantial chunk of my life in armor, hiding who I was and trying to settle for “the best you can expect” rather than my actual heart’s desire. When I dismantled that wall, things got chaotic for a while, but I also realized I was capable of emotional depths and soaring heights I didn’t think possible for me. It’s something that the Jenny of today wants to whisper (or shout) at the Jenny of 25-30 years ago, and it’s that part of me that relates to Rafael’s journey from a lifetime of SHIELDS UP! to embracing vulnerability and intimacy. (I actually really like that whole scene between them, because I love their friendship and think it’s beautiful, and crave more of that dynamic. Platonic intimacy is gorgeous, and woefully underappreciated in most entertainment. I could go on for hours about that, but I won’t. Not right now, anyway.)

And from Staten Island Serenade, this passage of Rafael gazing at a sleeping Sonny really gets to me.

“As hard as it was some days, Rafael knew without question he wanted to be right here with him, because Sonny was worth the effort. He was a bewildering mess of contradictions and weirdness, too smart for his own good but capable of saying the most ridiculous shit Rafael had ever heard. Somehow everything about him was beautiful, and inspired something in Rafael that felt pure, and almost holy, or would be if he believed in holiness. Like Cymon of old, transformed in every way by the exquisite sight of sleeping Iphigenia, Rafael found himself similarly transformed; ennobled by the nearness of Sonny Carisi, someone so decent, so kind, so truly beautiful inside and out that it would have been a sacrilege not to strive to be a better man.”

What is your personal favorite fanfic?

Again with the hard questions. I don’t even know where to begin. I honestly can’t point to ONE and say, “This is it! THE FAVE.” I’m so sorry I’m not able to narrow down my faves on anything. I’m terrible at this.

There are several Sherlock fics that I’ve read and re-read over the years, which I think really nailed their voices and their characters, and gave me things to think about. The Road Less Traveled will always be a favorite of mine, because it was the first, and because it is beautiful.

Pass Here And Go On by abogadobarba hits all the right notes for me. It rocketed to the top of my list the moment I read it. I’ve read it about ten times so far. I am ridiculous.

So Far in a Few Blocks by PhillyStrega is one of the only AUs I’ve ever read and loved. I’m not really an AU person, but shut UP, I love this story.

You Made Them Feel Like They Had the Devil Inside Them by cypress_tree really got to me. It’s about one of those issues that hits very close to home, and I think it’s a beautifully-written story about something that matters.

Anything else you would like to add?

I just want to say how much I love this fandom. I love my fellow inhabitants of Barisi Nation. I love that I get to obsess over things like the intersections of faith and queerness and humanism and sex and domesticity and justice and goodness. Even if nobody else wanted to read my stories, I think I’d still be over here, writing like mad, because I love these characters and it’s a genuine joy for me to spend time in their heads. But gosh, it’s gratifying to know the hours I spend on this silliness actually pay off for other people, too. I love hearing from people who’ve read my stories and found something meaningful in them, or giggled at something ridiculous Sonny said, or thought a sex scene was… well, anyway. You know.

I’m so grateful to get to do this. And I appreciate the hell out of all you lovely humans. You make me happy.

#barisi #Author of the month #Author recommendation #Juniperhoot

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elcorhamletlive · 5 years

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I can finally post this!

fandom: MCU (Post- Avengers 2012) tags: Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Idiots in Love, POV Tony Stark, Stony Loves Steve 2019

summary: Tony is thrilled about his new relationship with Steve. He's on cloud nine, in fact. It's so amazing he can believe it's real.

He just wishes they could... Uh. Touch a little. Just a little.

Ok, so, here’s the thing: Tony never, in a million years, thought Steve would say “yes”.

Not because of some exacerbated insecurity or anything. As anyone who knows him can attest, Tony is far from oblivious to his appeal. He knows he’s an attractive man, and that he could charm his way out of nearly anything, if he wanted to.

He also knows he’s good at flirting. He knows how to be seductive without being inconvenient, how to be flattering without exaggerating, how to be suggestive without pushing any boundaries. He has mastered his technique over years, practicing with many different people. He never had any trouble getting a date, and, to be completely honest, he doesn’t think he ever will.

But.

There is a huge difference between dating, in its usual simple, casual meaning, and the utterly other-worldly, mind blowing, frankly almost terrifying concept of dating Steve Rogers. Dating is easy, but dating Steve – going out for a movie with Steve, holding his hand, kissing him after the night is over, asking if he wants to come up to the penthouse… If you ask Tony, there’s an entire universe of distance between these two ideas. They’re barely in the same astral plane.

And Tony—Tony doesn’t even know what possessed him to ask. It had been an insane impulse to rival every single one of his most self-destructive habits. There he was, in the kitchen, filling himself with coffee, when Steve walked in with a book in his hand, sitting on a stool. He was wearing his grandpa clothes, his brow was furrowed and his blond bangs were falling a little on his forehead.

Tony watched him, and at one point he closed his book and fished out the tiniest notepad from his pocket. He wrote something down, tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth, deep concentration as his fingers brushed his bangs to the side, and Tony had thought: Oh. Oh, I wish I could have him.

That hadn’t been a new thought – actually, it bordered on repetitive at that point, echoing in his head anytime he watched Steve do basically anything - but it apparently resonated with something in Tony’s sleep-deprived brain, because the next thing he knew, he was rambling about reservations that he had made for him and Pepper, and how Pepper had cancelled, and how he missed eating steak, and if Steve wanted to have dinner with him.

And Steve said yes.

And that—well, to say it caught Tony off guard would be an understatement. He had just stared at Steve for a moment in silence when FRIDAY helpfully jumped in to inform him of the reservation's time. Steve had smiled, and Tony had gaped at him like a fish, and, just like that, he had a date with Steve Rogers.

The hours that followed were some of the slowest of Tony’s life. He had been a pile of nerves in a way he didn’t remember ever being before a date. He found himself trying on the suit he used to meet the president and finding it incredibly ill-fitting.

Then, at 6:38, he was ready, exactly twenty-two minutes too early. Fortunately, Steve, being who he was, had also shown up to meet him in the living room early, so Tony didn’t have to wait for long.

Dinner was… surprisingly great. Granted, Tony was almost vibrating off his chair, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He had been outraged by the prices, which Tony found both exasperating and adorable, and after a moment of initial awkwardness, they fell into an easy, natural banter. Steve was a great listener, Tony found. He heard everything Tony said with the utmost attention, but he wasn’t always quiet either – he’d interject with a blunt wit that made Tony grin a little ridiculously at times, and he’d nod at Tony’s rambling as if it were worth listening to.

The restaurant worked, too. It was a discreet bistro not too far away from the Tower. The food tasted delicious, and Steve cleaned up his plate with such voracity that Tony simply had to convince him to order dessert. Steve complained a little, saying it wasn’t fair to let Tony pay for everything, but Tony won the argument, promising he’d let Steve pay next time (Steve didn’t even blink at the suggestion that there would be a next time, which, really, made Tony feel like floating off his seat).

All in all, it was a great choice, even though it was far from the place Tony would have picked to take Steve on a first date – though, to be fair, Tony wouldn’t have been able to rent out the Louvre on such little notice anyway.

By the time they got home, though, Tony’s anxiety had resurfaced again. Even as he grinned at Steve and continued to talk normally, his hands twitched hopelessly in the pockets of his jacket. He wondered if Steve’s occasional lingering gaze was enough of a hint of what his reaction would be if Tony tried to close the evening with a goodnight kiss.

When they got to Steve’s floor, Steve turned towards him and smiled – a large, sincere smile that knocked Tony’s breath right out of his lungs.

“Thank you, Tony. I… To be honest, I don’t remember the last time I had that much fun, in this time.” And he looked a little embarrassed, a little awkward, but still… almost giddy with happiness, as if he had truly forgotten how it felt to be this way. “Thank you.”

And then the elevator doors opened, and Steve got out, and there was no kiss but really, that had been even better. The doors closed, and Tony rested his head on the wall and smiled like an idiot at the ceiling.

That had been date number one. Date number two happened almost a week later, after Rhodey managed to convince Tony Steve wouldn’t want to drop everything and go to Paris with him just because Tony thought anything New York had to offer simply wasn’t good enough. Tony then finally caved and, rambling about how Pepper had talked up the MET’s latest exhibit at the office, asked if Steve would like to go see it on Friday. The way Steve’s face lit up at the suggestion made Tony mentally promise Rhodey a dozen new upgrades for his suit.

“Dude,” Rhodey had laughed when Tony informed him of it that night, “You are so screwed.”

Tony had rolled his eyes and ignored him.

By the time Friday arrived, he was already regretting following Rhodey’s suggestion – what was so great about the MET, anyway? And even if Steve liked it, Tony couldn’t stand art museums, not even the Louvre, so wasn’t this proof of the unavoidable truth that they were ultimately incompatible? It had to be, right? Really, he should just cancel the whole thing and spare them the inevitable misery.

Except then Steve showed up, with a button up shirt and a leather jacket and a bright smile, and Tony’s brain promptly melted and leaked right out of his ears, so. They ended up going.

As the hours went by, walking with Steve through the MET’s hallways, watching the way he frowned thoughtfully at a few pieces and stopped to analyze every detail, Tony’s thoughts changed. Museums could be fun, he realized. Museums could be… witty, and smart, and sweet. Really, museums were so, so…

Rhodey is right, Tony thought, watching Steve struggle with his phone settings to attempt to take a selfie with a painting and having to fight back an honest to god sigh. I’m completely screwed.

The following dates only consolidated that reality. He and Steve went to the Natural History Museum, to Coney Island, to the Brooklyn Bridge. The city Tony knew since his childhood seemed to gain new life when he was exploring it through Steve’s eyes. Steve had so many stories, and so many interesting insights about how things had or hadn’t changed, that it made Tony feel that New York was, suddenly, the most interesting place in the world. He started to spend most of his time at the Tower, only going to Malibu when Pepper really, really demanded his presence.

And Steve. Through these adventures, Tony found out so much about him – little things like his favorite ice cream flavor (rocky road), the kind of movies he liked (mostly sci-fi and fantasy, but he was also fond of animations), the fact that he liked buying the newspaper to do the crosswords. He learned things about Steve that Steve himself couldn’t tell, like the way he walked, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way he brushed his bangs off his forehead when he was nervous or embarrassed. Things a person could only learn by spending time with him, which Tony was doing in ever-growing levels – and yet, worryingly, it never seemed to be enough.

And, yeah, it was a little… weird, at times. Tony had never dated – or hell, even been attracted to someone for so long without moving things to the physical side of the equation. With Steve, though, that side didn’t seem to exist at all. Two months after their first date, they were going out at least once a week, and they still hadn’t kissed, or, shit, even held hands.

Tony had thought about it (by God, had he thought about it) but anytime he thought he could take the initiative, something on Steve’s demeanor would seem to stiff, too skittish, and then it wouldn’t seem like a very good idea.

read the rest on ao3!

#stony #stevetony #steve rogers #superhusbands #tony stark #my fics #reblogs are love

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chicago-reeed · 5 years

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PHCK ME - Reed900 Fic Rec List

Hello!!! You might not remember, but awhile back I mentioned I had the start of a fic rec list that I planned to post (which I never did). To celebrate all 1K+ of you, I thought I would finish the list for you! It is my duty as a loyal reed900 servant.

DISCLAIMER: This list of reccomendations was made purely out of personal opinion. I by no means want to discredit any other fics/authors. Some may not agree with my choices, and that’s totally understandable. I just wanted to share these fics because I personally enjoyed them <3

I didn’t include some fics because they haven’t been updated in a long time, or I didn’t remember them enough to give them accurate reviews. Also, I’m sure there are many more fics that I forgot to put on here (these are from my ao3 bookmarks). I might include them in a future update.

Anyways, all of my recs are under the cut! There are a lot!! I had eight pages worth of them in my documents haha

Mint Condition - by itsdefinitive - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 18/? - Reed could see what they were going for there -- the whole infallible super-soldier thing. A monument to testosterone made perfect, cast in steel within plastic. It was actually really creepy. Maybe that was on purpose.

The first reed900 fic I read, and it’s honestly what got me into the pairing itself.

Charon - by Vapewraith - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 20/20 - Gavin Reed, a mess of a human being, just wants to be left to his self destructive tendencies. RK900, an android designed by the most brilliant minds in the world to be the perfect machine, is desperate to grasp the full range of emotional freedom now afforded to him. The two will need to find an equilibrium before their incompatible personalities—and an eccentric serial killer with a dangerous piece of tech—swallow them whole.

I can’t even describe how much I love this fic. I’m a slut for horror, and there’s plenty of that in here. It might just be my favorite. Definitely recommend.

Two Sides of a Vaguely Similar Coin - by ZombiBird - Mature - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 13/? - RK900 is lost.

It’s been months since the Revolution and he’s still no closer to figuring out what the hell he’s supposed to be doing with himself. He feels like an outsider in his own body. Completely detached, nothing more than a quiet observer; like he’s looking down at the world through a layer of glass instead of fully living in it.

Gavin Reed is a temperamental asshole.

This isn’t news, okay? Gavin’s fully aware of what he is. He burns bridges instead of building them. Bites hands instead of shaking them. Would rather drown in a sea comprised of the consequences of his faults and misdeeds than try to change the way he is. Because people like him? Maybe they deserve to drown.

[Alternatively: Both lost in different ways, Gavin and RK900 try to figure their shit out and end up learning that, sometimes, it takes two people who have absolutely no idea what the hell they’re doing to get a goddamn clue.]

I don’t remember much about this fic, if I’m honest. Not that the story is forgettable, it’s just been awhile since I read it. However, the title definitely stood out to me so I know it was very good :P

Captcha Encryption - by Cerulaine - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Content warnings - Chapters 18/? - It's a little over a year after the android uprising and it's still the end of the fucking world.

Back in the day when things became shit he used to enjoy a drink or two. Or Five. It all depended on how long the shift ran. After 'The Accident' he can't even cough without Nines breathing down his neck anymore.

He just wishes everything would go back to normal, but if there's anything Gavin has learned it's that you can't unring a bell once it's been rung.

Or whatever. Fuck if he knows.

Similar situation to the last fic: I don’t remember much about it (my memory SUCKS), but I do remember thoroughly enjoying this one.

Daydreamer - by Pence - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 21/24 - Large purple bruises twined prettily around the corpse’s throat, every finger defined in perfect cruelty. His eyes tore away from the handprints as a cold finger traced the lightning strike scar across the center of his face—drawing his attention to a small, blue lipped smile.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave this town, Gavin?”

________

When a series of Detroit murders are linked as originating in his hometown, Gavin Reed is unwillingly assigned the case. Fowler insists that his history with the place and people will hugely benefit such an investigation.

He was fucking wrong.

This fic is one big holy shit moment tbh. Really fantastic. Really makes you wonder why these authors aren’t paid to do this.

All Aboard the Underground Railroad - by Senjihae - No Rating - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 11/? - What starts as sticking it towards his half brother evolves into something with the potential to rewrite android history as he knows it. Gavin doesn't realize what he gets himself into until he is mistaken as the 'Android Messiah' of all things. It's not like he goes out of his way to help them, but his life gets a lot harder once Hank is assigned a shiny new boy toy ('sent by CyberLife').

Things only get worse when he's gifted a heap of metal of his own ('sent by Elijah Kamski').

(Yeah, fuck off Elijah)

Very interesting fic. Gavin is RA9 so that’s a thing. A nice slow burn!

Dragon Become Age - by errantwheat - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Content Warnings - Chapters 11/? - Y’all wanted me to write dragon age!au so I did :)

YES! YES! YES! DRAGON AGE AU! YES! YES! YES! (it’s really gud)

Warmth - by TheRedPaladin101 - Teen and Up Audiences - No Warnings - Chapters 1/1 - Gavin frowned, the aching in his shoulder fading from his mind for a moment. “Then give me my jacket.”

“Your jacket is in no condition to keep you warm,” he stated. “For now, use mine and stay warm while we wait to head back to the station.”

----

Five times RK900 gave Gavin Reed his jacket, and one time Gavin gave his in return.

Very wholesome. Lives up to its title. Some good ole hurt/comfort!

Letifer - Terminallydepraved - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 19/19 - Gavin Reed is a DPD beat cop determined to make detective by any means possible, and putting an end to a string of murders looks like the quickest way to accomplishing that goal. Unfortunately for him, he fails to account for the real culprit— or the thought that perhaps he isn't the only one on the hunt for a killer.

(Now with cover art by Leetmorry!)

I love beat cop!gavin. It humbles him. And vampire!nines is scary and amazing. Love how the author wrote both of these characters (and the others too!). I definitely recommend this one!

A Strange and Beautiful Creature - by LittleLalaith - General audiences - No warnings - Chapters 7/7 - Scientist Nines is called in to Amanda's lab to assist with a new discovery - a genuine Mermaid.

While Amanda is indifferent to the creature's circumstances, Nines builds an unlikely connection to the specimen and they grow a little closer than either of them expected.

(AKA Gavin is a sassy sea slug and Nines thrills in breaking the safety protocols)

Mermaid au! Nines wants to save mermaid Gavin, and it’s all very wholesome.

I Think You Do - by spotlightonmringenue - Teen and Up Audiences - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 16/? - “Son of a bitch, there’s another one. What the fuck is it doing,” Gavin says, grip going white on the gun as the android continues to stare at him without acknowledging Connor.

“RK900, my name is Connor. I’m part of a group called Jericho that recovered you from Cyberlife’s Production Center late yesterday. We are currently in the Detroit Police Department Central Station. Are you feeling okay?”

“It doesn’t feel shit,” Gavin mumbles, resisting the urge to step back as the RK900 takes a step closer. It holds out the cup, and Gavin’s eyes dart to it for only a second before flipping between Connor and his doppelganger.

“You requested coffee,” it says, and Hank sighs, leaning back against his desk while rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Quality ‘enemies to friends’ content. Nines is intimidating. Gavin is confused. Good times.

Flying with Crooked Wings - by UnCon - Mature - No warnings - Chapters 20/? - “Listen, kid,” Gavin started, cutting off the desolate child. Sure it was sad his dog had died but it wasn’t Gavin’s fault no one taught the little twerp chocolate was a dog’s kryptonite, “he’s in a better place, alright, so if you’d just stop asking for him to come back—it’d be much appreciated.”

“You promise?” the eight-year-old asked, his big brown eyes looking like glass—fragile and sparkly.

“Yeah,” Gavin lied, looking away as he did it—his halo going a bit crooked. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where dogs went after they died, only that he was tasked with calming the little boys and girls who despaired after them—at least until his punishment was up. “So just, you know, go to sleep and all that.”

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In a world where angels and demons inhabit the same earth, both searching for a way to overthrow the other, both failing--Gavin sits right in the middle, with a crooked halo and a pair of wings to match. It's not enough to be a bit mischievous, however, he also has to get caught up in the demon brothers' scheme to take over heaven. Perfect.

Really good! This fic has the interesting dynamic of Gavin as an angel and Nines as a demon. Check it out!

The Red String Will Still Connect Us Ten Thousand Miles Apart (and to the moon and back) - by Jillflur - Teen and Up - Content warnings - Chapters 5/5 - Gavin, an ‘unlovable’ man without a Soulmate. He was used to it, never had one since he could remember. However, that little fact changes when he wakes up one day and realizes that he suddenly has a Red String connected to his ring finger. It only gets worse when months later, an android walks into the precinct who apparently is his new Soulmate!

Can androids even have Soulmates?!

To make everything even more complicated, a sudden new killer is on the Streets, and he murders people by cutting their Red Strings!

A soulmate fic by our very own jillflur! So good. Amazin. I love the red string trope so much. Yall should big read.

the prince & the reed - by Pence - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 2/? - "I wanted to marry you," the prince murmured, polished armor gleaming as he stared down at the injured man--icy eyes tinged with sadness. Regret.

A guttural scream ripped from the soldier's throat as a heel dug into his wound, arm coated crimson from his weeping shoulder.

The soldier's teeth were stained pink as he jerked his chin up to grin toothily at the other man, bloody fingers scrambling down his thigh in search of the dagger tucked into his boot.

"Then drop to your knees and ask me properly, Nines."

Okay this fic is only two chapters and hasn’t been updated in awhile but GOT DAMN do I love how the author set this medieval fic up. I’m a slut for the medieval au’s, so that’s just extra points.

Not a teacher but I can teach you a thing or two - by Adishailan - Teens and Up - No warnings - Chapters 20/20 - Gavin owed the walking hunk of plastic. He owed him. Ugh, Gavin hated owing people stuff. It gave him a horrible feeling in his stomach, like indigestion, except worse because it involved emotionsTM. This, coupled with the fact he was pumped up with drugs and suffering a concussion, was why he was about to make a terrible, terrible mistake.

“‘Kay. Fine. Thanks or whatever. Lemme know if you ever need anythin' prick.”

RK900’s LED went yellow at this, and this time Gavin was pretty sure he was doing the processing thing. It was still yellow even when he nodded in a serious way and said:

“That would be useful.”

Oh man this one is BIG CUTE! It’s so soft, and is a fantastic slow burn. I totally recommend this fic.

O May I Join the Choir Invisible - by BanishedOne - Mature - No warnings - Chapters 13/? - Gavin Reed was a new inmate at a prison where the infamous killer, R. Nathan Kearney, was on death row. Circumstances led to an unfortunate encounter.

Okay don’t quote me on this but I think you can find the rest of this fic on Twitter. It was posted in a bunch of seperate posts and it was really confusing but there was definitely extra chapters. You can find the post here (or at BanishedOne on twitter). Other than that, this is a really good fic! The boys get into a lot of trouble!

Neon Maps - by caffienefueledfeels - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Content warnings - Chapters 11/11 - Everyone has their limits. Gavin is about to discover several of his own.

He's broke, barely scraping along, and struggling to keep an aggressive black-mailer off his back. On top of that, the grey-eyed distraction in his bed is about to test his heart in more ways than one.

Cyberpunk fic!! Super interesting! Go check it out!

Computers Are Elaborate Cat Beds, Actually - by errantwheat - No Rating - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 6/? - “Marvelous find, Gavin. They’ll promote you for this, surely.”

Gavin pulled an exaggerated frown. He was awfully animated for a robot. “Jesus, What kind of human are you? I’m waving a fucking kitten in your face and you’re still a bitch.”

Really cute. I’m pretty sure there’s some art to go with this fic. Super duper cute reverse au!

More Than a Woman, More Than a Bride - by AvixiLynn91 - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Content warnings - Chapters 38/? - When Gavin’s life is threatened for the last time by a violent gang expanding the production of a new drug in Detroit, Captain Fowler must come up with a plan for his safety. Perhaps forcing a marriage between Nines and Gavin wasn’t the best solution he could come up with...

Oh man. This fic. Let me tell you. I’ve been with this fic since the beginning and it is one hell of a roller coaster XD. The author updates constantly, it’s really impressive.

More Like You - by Mooneye - Teen and Up - No warnings - Chapters 1/1 - “This next bit’s going to get awkward. I’m going to interface with you.”

At that he could feel the collective confusion in the room. His eyes darted up to look at Hank and then Nines. They both seemed eerily still and were possibly thinking that Gavin had surely lost his mind.

Gavin has kept his prosthetic arm, with good reason, a secret from humans and androids alike for as long as he’s had it. The prospect of losing Nines threatens to unravel everything, but perhaps it’s worth the cost.

The idea of Gavin (an android hater in-game) having a prosthetic-android arm is definitely interesting!

An Unforeseen Union - by AvixiLynn91 - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 16/16 - Gavin and Nines are sent undercover to investigate a slew of brutal murders at a gay counselling and therapy resort for androids and humans. They're forced to pose as a couple, but soon feel their relationship becoming more than an act as real feelings develop.

I loved the dramatic whodunnit vibes in this fic! It gets crazy :P

The Great DPD Kink-Off - by connorssock, LittleLalaith, Skye_Willows, Stujet9rainshine - Explicit: only suitable for adults - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 24/24 - It started out as a bit of rivalry and turned into a competition. Who was the kinkiest android in town?

If you like smut, then read this. That is all I will say.

The Black Nights, The Long Dark - by bvssbot - Explicit - Content warnings - Chapters 8/12 - translation of an amazing russian fic тёмные ночи, долгая тьма (the dark nights, the long darkness) into english

An unknown catastrophe was the reason Gavin ended up stranded alone on a godforsaken Canadian island. Having almost made peace with the thought of living in solitude for the rest of his days, he saves the life of a pilot named Richard, whose airplane crashed in the middle of his humanitarian mission.

Shit, I loved ‘The Long Dark’ and I love this fic. I don’t speak russian, unfortunately, so I must wait to read the end. But this is still amazing and you all should read it.

Detroit: Outlast - by Cardboardghost - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 1/? - Connor Upshur is a down on his luck reporter, who spends his nights getting drunk and passing out at home. A mysterious email calls him to Mount Massive Asylum, owned by the Cyberlife corporation. Armed with nothing but a camera and his wits, Connor must brave the asylum's horrors and find way to save the people Cyberlife stole from him.

Gavin Park is a beat cop looking for a more well paying job. So when an offer to work private security at the Cyberlife corporation all but falls into his lap, how could he refuse? Gavin quickly realizes things are not what they seem, and in an attempt to expose Cyberlife, he ends up further in their clutches. Now he and Connor must work together to claw their way out of the asylum's depths, and the familiar faces that wait inside those walls.

This fic only has onw chapter, but go check out Cardboardghost’s art if you finish reading this!! They have provided so much quality content for the Outlast/DBH crossover I didn’t know I needed.

Gin & Tonic - by limchi - Explicit - No warnings - Chapters 8/? - People didn’t like Gavin Reed. Gavin Reed didn’t like people. It went together like gin and tonic, you can’t have one without the other. Nines hated him and he hated Nines. Those were the rules they played by, the rules that couldn't be changed - until fate decided they could.

It turned Gavin into pretending to dislike and Nines into a dense idiot with a crush, unable to grasp the concept of love. Both in utter denial. The catch: gravity worked against them, pulled them together at a frightening pace. Push against and defy the rules of nature or go along the prevailing forces?

Your friendly neighborhood reed900 fic. Very epic slow burn and fluff (and a hint of angst tbh). I definitely recommend!

Bitter Half - by turnabout - Mature - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 5/5 - Gavin Reed was born unmarked, and had spent his entire life expecting to die like he lived - alone. It isn't until Tina points out the new serial number on his chest that he realizes everything is about to change. Whether that's for better or for worse is up to him.

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics and this one does not disappoint!

K-900 - by Serazimei - Teen and Up - No warnings - Chapters 3/3 - Gavin and Nines were a great team. Unfortunately they were both huge workaholics. That's why when Nines' body gets busted on a job and the needed parts aren't available yet chaos is inevitable. Needing to choose between waiting and potentially being of no use at work or participate in one of Kamskis experiments and transfer his mind into an Android dog the decision is easy to make.

Who knew being in a dog body could become such a hassle? Not Nines, that's for sure.

Nines is a pup!!! I don’t believe I’ve seen a fic like this yet, so it’s really cool!

Thanks I'm Hating It - by Lupo (LupoLight) - Explicit: only suitable for adults - No warnings - Chapters 4/4 - Gavin goes to a fast food burger joint and Nines judges him. Then he realizes that Gavin isn't as much of a dick as he used to be, except he is, but in a different way. He isn't sure how to react to this knowledge.

QUALITY reed900 content

Bloodstains - by DeviantAlicee - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 12/? - Nines is an interrogator & detective for the DPD with a dark past. His thick skin & smarts helping him to be one of the most valuable members of the department. He's cold & daunting.

GV200 is one of the first police android models who's partnered with a cruel beat cop who not only hates that his partner is an android but doesn't think GV can feel any of the cruel things he does or says to him. The android doesn't speak up due to the fear of being shut down.

Nines has no clue that the android he bumped into at a bar is in fact a police android. He just thinks that he might be somebody in need of some help. But, as time passes by & a new drug that can be used by androids begins to circulate, Nines begins to realise the situation is a whole lot more convoluted than he originally thought.

This is a really interesting reverse au! Check it out!

Team spirit - by ilse_writes - Mature - No warnings - Chapters 4/4 - Someone had the unholy idea to go camping with the department, all in the name of 'team building'. Gavin is not liking it very much. That tall instructor with his haughty manners and cool eyes... that one he likes very much.

I don’t think I’ve seen another au quite like this one. Very epic content, can we hit Gavin Reed?

Wake Up - by SkySquid22 - Mature - Content warnings - Chapters 6/? - “Gavin!”

GV200 slipped out of his stasis. He didn’t get a chance to open his eyes before a file came down on his face, smacking him.

“And here I thought tin cans didn’t sleep.”

Something was wrong.

Something was very very wrong.

DIS GOT ME F U C K E D U P!!! Bruh @skysquid200 really out here shaking my world with this fic. I was hollering while reading this like I got HYPED

Natural - by Erik_Heinrich - Teen and Up - Author chose not to warn for content - Chapters 1/? - They are all wing people.

Gavin gets partnered with Nines. As expected hes not too happy about it, but their partnership seems to be going well. That is until spring comes along. Nines wings seem a bit fidgety and Gavin is nesting. Nines doesn't realize he's been trying to court Gavin, and Gavin is just as oblivious.

or. They are both complete idiots the whole time

WING FIC WING FIC WING FIC!!!! Yall dont know how long I’ve looked for a reed900 wing fic. My homie @phckingusername out here doin God’s work <333

Thank you all so much for 1K!!! Being able to hop on Tumblr everyday and talk to you guys makes me so happy!! I really hope I didn't f up this rec list anywhere lol. Hope u guys like it!!

#thank yall so much #i cant say it enough #dbh #detroit become human #gavin reed #rk900 #nines #reed900 #fic rec list #reed900 fic recs

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caitsbooks · 5 years

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6 Summer Adult Romances!

Click here to view the full post on my blog, or read more to find out more about these books!

Despite still feeling kinda new to the romance genre, I wanted to compile a list of some of my favorite romance novel’s I’ve read, that I think are perfect for summer.

Whether you’ll be reading on the beach or nice and comfortable in air conditioning, these books will be the perfect addition to your summer!!

Read more for descriptions of each book, plus check out my blog to see 6 YA Romances that are perfect for summer!

Blog || Goodreads || Bookstagram || Twitter || Reviews

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THE HATING GAME BY SALLY THORNE

Page Count: 387 pages Publisher: William Morrow Release Date: August 9th, 2016 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Lucy Hutton has always been certain that the nice girl can get the corner office. She’s charming and accommodating and prides herself on being loved by everyone at Bexley & Gamin. Everyone except for coldly efficient, impeccably attired, physically intimidating Joshua Templeman. And the feeling is mutual. Trapped in a shared office together 40 (OK, 50 or 60) hours a week, they’ve become entrenched in an addictive, ridiculous never-ending game of one-upmanship. There’s the Staring Game. The Mirror Game. The HR Game. Lucy can’t let Joshua beat her at anything—especially when a huge new promotion goes up for the taking. If Lucy wins this game, she’ll be Joshua’s boss. If she loses, she’ll resign. So why is she suddenly having steamy dreams about Joshua, and dressing for work like she’s got a hot date? After a perfectly innocent elevator ride ends with an earth-shattering kiss, Lucy starts to wonder whether she’s got Joshua Templeman all wrong. Maybe Lucy Hutton doesn’t hate Joshua Templeman. And maybe, he doesn’t hate her either. Or maybe this is just another game.”

This book is what finally pushed me into reading adult romances. Yeah, I had read a couple before this one, but this is the book that made me fall in love with the genre. I know it’s been talked about by most everyone, but if you haven’t read it yet, this summer is the perfect time (especially with the movie in the works)!

THE KISS QUOTIENT (THE KISS QUOTIENT #1) BY HELEN HOANG

Page Count: 333 pages Publisher: Berkley Release Date: June 5th, 2018 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Stella Lane thinks math is the only thing that unites the universe. She comes up with algorithms to predict customer purchases — a job that has given her more money than she knows what to do with, and way less experience in the dating department than the average thirty-year-old. It doesn’t help that Stella has Asperger’s and French kissing reminds her of a shark getting its teeth cleaned by pilot fish. Her conclusion: she needs lots of practice — with a professional. Which is why she hires escort Michael Phan. The Vietnamese and Swedish stunner can’t afford to turn down Stella’s offer, and agrees to help her check off all the boxes on her lesson plan — from foreplay to more-than-missionary position… Before long, Stella not only learns to appreciate his kisses, but to crave all the other things he’s making her feel. Soon, their no-nonsense partnership starts making a strange kind of sense. And the pattern that emerges will convince Stella that love is the best kind of logic… ”

Firstly, if you aren’t a fan of series, don’t worry. This is just a series of companion novels, so you don’t have to commit to them. But trust me when I say, after reading this, you will want to. I just love this book so much. These characters are just absolutely amazing and you will not regret picking this up!

JOSH AND HAZEL’S GUIDE TO NOT DATING BY CHRISTINA LAUREN

Page Count: 309 pages Publisher: Gallery Books Release Date: September 4th, 2018 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Hazel Camille Bradford knows she’s a lot to take—and frankly, most men aren’t up to the challenge. If her army of pets and thrill for the absurd don’t send them running, her lack of filter means she’ll say exactly the wrong thing in a delicate moment. Their loss. She’s a good soul in search of honest fun. Josh Im has known Hazel since college, where her zany playfulness proved completely incompatible with his mellow restraint. From the first night they met—when she gracelessly threw up on his shoes—to when she sent him an unintelligible email while in a post-surgical haze, Josh has always thought of Hazel more as a spectacle than a peer. But now, ten years later, after a cheating girlfriend has turned his life upside down, going out with Hazel is a breath of fresh air. Not that Josh and Hazel date. At least, not each other. Because setting each other up on progressively terrible double blind dates means there’s nothing between them…right?”

I have two Christina Lauren books on this list because I am addicted to their books. However, this one is by far my favorite of theirs. It’s a friends-to-lovers done so well, you won’t be able to put it down. I know I wasn’t able to.

RED, WHITE, AND ROYAL BLUE BY CASEY MCQUISTON

Page Count: 423 pages Publisher: St. Martin’s Griffin Release Date: May 14th, 2019 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations.

The plan for damage control: staging a fake friendship between the First Son and the Prince. Alex is busy enough handling his mother’s bloodthirsty opponents and his own political ambitions without an uptight royal slowing him down. But beneath Henry’s Prince Charming veneer, there’s a soft-hearted eccentric with a dry sense of humor and more than one ghost haunting him.

As President Claremont kicks off her reelection bid, Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret relationship with Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations. And Henry throws everything into question for Alex, an impulsive, charming guy who thought he knew everything: What is worth the sacrifice? How do you do all the good you can do? And, most importantly, how will history remember you?”

You all knew I would have to put this book on here. It’s my obsession. The love of my life. I know this book is getting a lot of hype right now, but let me tell you, it deserves all of it. This book is really something special. Not only is it an adorable romance with enemies-to-lovers and plenty of wit, but it’s also a powerful read that you don’t want to miss.

THE UNHONEYMOONERS BY CHRISTINA LAUREN

Page Count: 400 Publisher: May 14th, 2019 Release Date: Gallery Books Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Full Review ]

“Olive is always unlucky: in her career, in love, in…well, everything. Her identical twin sister Ami, on the other hand, is probably the luckiest person in the world. Her meet-cute with her fiancé is something out of a romantic comedy (gag) and she’s managed to finance her entire wedding by winning a series of Internet contests (double gag). Worst of all, she’s forcing Olive to spend the day with her sworn enemy, Ethan, who just happens to be the best man. Olive braces herself to get through 24 hours of wedding hell before she can return to her comfortable, unlucky life. But when the entire wedding party gets food poisoning from eating bad shellfish, the only people who aren’t affected are Olive and Ethan. And now there’s an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii up for grabs. Putting their mutual hatred aside for the sake of a free vacation, Olive and Ethan head for paradise, determined to avoid each other at all costs. But when Olive runs into her future boss, the little white lie she tells him is suddenly at risk to become a whole lot bigger. She and Ethan now have to pretend to be loving newlyweds, and her luck seems worse than ever. But the weird thing is that she doesn’t mind playing pretend. In fact, she feels kind of… lucky.”

While Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating may be my favorite Christina Lauren book, this one is pretty close. Enemies-to-lovers, fake datings, and basically every other classic trope everyone loves found their way into this extremely fun read.

WELL MET BY JEN DELUCA

Page Count: 336 Publisher: Berkley Release Date: September 3rd, 2019 Purchase Options: Amazon, Indiebound, Barnes and Noble [ Click Here For My Review Teaser ]

“Emily knew there would be strings attached when she relocated to the small town of Willow Creek, Maryland, for the summer to help her sister recover from an accident, but who could anticipate getting roped into volunteering for the local Renaissance Faire alongside her teenaged niece? Or that the irritating and inscrutable schoolteacher in charge of the volunteers would be so annoying that she finds it impossible to stop thinking about him? The faire is Simon’s family legacy and from the start he makes clear he doesn’t have time for Emily’s lighthearted approach to life, her oddball Shakespeare conspiracy theories, or her endless suggestions for new acts to shake things up. Yet on the faire grounds he becomes a different person, flirting freely with Emily when she’s in her revealing wench’s costume. But is this attraction real, or just part of the characters they’re portraying? This summer was only ever supposed to be a pit stop on the way to somewhere else for Emily, but soon she can’t seem to shake the fantasy of establishing something more with Simon, or a permanent home of her own in Willow Creek.”

Okay, I know this one won’t be published until summer is over, but I need to mention it. It’s absolutely amazing! Seriously, it’s completely worth the wait. The relationship is so perfect, the characters are all amazing, and it takes place at a Ren Faire!!! What more could you ask for?

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What is your favorite summer romance? I really need some good recommendations!!

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frivolity2015 · 5 years

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A Look Back at 24, the Men I dated, What I Learned, and Why 25 was a Great Year

I have been meaning to write an entry about what a mess 24 was, how 25 was amazing, and how I hope being 26 this year will enable more growth and be filled with more awesomeness.

A Heart that Loves

I entered the dating game somewhat late in life. I never dated while I was in high school or college, or even pursued dating in general. My first relationship didn’t occur until I was at the ripe old age of 23 and so it goes without saying that I was pretty naive when I entered into it. I was so naive that I expected it to be like a teen romance movie and it didn’t take long before I realized real life is nothing like that.

My first relationship was with Antonio, a classmate and (former) friend from medical school. I had only known him for a few months but we were fast friends and became attached at the hip. When I returned to St. Kitts for my 4th semester, the landscape changed since two of my closest friends were gone and I began to invest more and in my friendship with him. Although I wasn’t initially attracted to him, there was this weird phenomenon where the more I saw him, the more attractive he became. One day in March, halfway through the semester, Antonio led me away from a party to talk and within seconds, we fumbled through a confession that we had mutual feelings for one another.

Things were a bit confusing at first because it was my first time developing genuine feelings for a person, and even more confusing was that that person was a guy. Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long before I felt comfortable telling him how cute I thought he was and how I enjoyed holding his hand under our backpacks while we road the bus home to conceal our intimacy. We even went to our Med 4 Banquet together and coordinated our outfits. That night, I quietly snook out of my apartment to sleep at his place for the first time. I’ll never forget how he looked as he stood over the balcony waiting for me and how he led me to his bed. I felt my head fit perfectly on his neck as we lay there, and so with almost no hesitation, I asked if I could kiss him. He said “yes”, and that was my first kiss. I was in relationship bliss. St. Kitts really was a paradise.

A Heart’s a Heavy Burden

Going to Portland, Maine, was like realizing that the clock had struck past midnight; the fairy tale was over.

I don’t want to get into specifics but it was like the Antonio I knew on the island was replaced but an unrecognizable person. The person who made me feel special only made me feel unwanted. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: there is absolutely no worse feeling than having to convince yourself that someone loves you.

Our breakup occurred almost intermittently over the course of the summer. At first he said he needed a break with very defined boundaries that became less strict. I would occasionally see glimmers of the old Antonio but it wasn’t enough. Because I was so in love with him, I sacrificed so much of myself hoping to be loved by him in return. I over enthusiastically jumped at the chance to visit him in California when he invited me to stay with him and his family. I even thought my arrival there signified that we were a couple again since he planned a photoshoot for us at his favorite beach spot.

However, he put his walls back up as soon as I returned to NJ. He became dismissive and distant again. And then, days after my 24th birthday, he broke up with me through a Facebook message, that I never really recovered from.

When rejected by the person you love most, when betrayed by the person closest to you—that’s when self-abasement begins. You hide in a space that’s all your own, and close your heart.

I’m not a fan of who I became after my first relationship. My self esteem was shot. I was upset. I was angry. I had no one to talk to because I wasn’t out yet.

I like to celebrate my birthday surrounded by love because I really believe that it only invites more love into your year. Unfortunately, I felt unloved heading into my 24th year. Looking back, what I regret the most is how bitter I let myself become. No one likes that taste in their mouth but I couldn’t get rid of it.

It didn’t help that the Jantonio saga took up the majority of the year. I kept going back and forth trying to be his friend and trying to reconcile with him; I kept looking for a closure that didn’t exist. I kept holding onto the hope of us getting back together and that he would wake up and realize how much he loved me. That never happened.

Ultimately, I ended up self sabotaging myself in August 2013, nearly a year after our break up. After a well meaning g chat conversation that he initiated, our friendship was officially over. I even removed him from every social media account. I felt horrible about losing a friend and experiencing something where there couldn't be any absolution but I knew it was what I needed to do. The out of sight and out of mind method worked until a friend told me that he was heading to Chicago. I felt so guilty about the way things ended that I reached out to him and asked to meet up with him but he never replied. I can’t even begin to describe how it felt knowing he was in the same city as me for the first time in over a year and that I couldn’t see him, or reconcile.

Sex in the Windy City

I have to backtrack a little bit here because my saga with Antonio overlapped with my misadventures in Chicago. I moved to Chicago in June 2013 and I was determined to find love, enter a relationship, and finally move on! I decided to try online dating since my friend, Caryn, was so successful on it (and now she’s getting married to someone she met on OKC!).

Online dating is definitely a really interesting experience. I’m glad I did it but I would never want to go through the world of online dating ever again. Online dating felt like I was playing some online game instead of finding a match. It makes you feel shallow, it can boost your confidence, and genuinely creep you out.

I’d like to call the next part of this the “What I Learned” section, full of anecdotes, funny stories, and what I really learned from each guy.

JR was one of the first people that I messaged on OKC. He had a really well thought out profile and he was really good looking. He was a graphic designer, he was Filipino, and he was also a recent transplant to Chicago so I thought we had a lot in common. He was also the first person I asked to meet up so I was beyond thrilled when he said he wanted to hang out. His initial idea of a hang out was to go see a movie (LAME!) but we ended up deciding we would just go out to eat. Since we were both new to the city, we didn’t really know where to go but he lived downtown and figured there would be many options. I drove up to his place to meet him and he made me wait over an hour for him because he was busy getting a haircut (and later I saw that he was taking selfies of himself to later put up on his profile; how uncool!). That should have been the first sign that we were incompatible but I waited for him anyway. He didn’t even apologize for being late! Even thinking about how rude he was gets me annoyed. Dinner was okay and the conversation was actually pretty decent. In the end, he paid for our meal as a means to apologize for making me wait and so I agreed to meet up with him again. I wish that I was strong enough to decline because he ended up being a waste of time. Looking back, I should have seen the signs! He used the same cologne as Antonio and he was also from CA. If he was anything like Antonio, I should have seen that he was trouble.

For our second meet up, we decided to be tourists and go see all the city guide spots. Again, he was late and didn’t even apologize for making me wait for him at his place. He didn’t even help me navigate around the city. Also, he was REALLY boring. Although I found him somewhat eager to talk about himself, he had absolutely no interest in actually making conversation. By the time we made it to dinner, I was miserably bored. He kept talking about how his friends were inviting him to go out that night but he never invited me to join him. I felt dissed and decided it was time to go and he acted surprised when I wanted to leave early.

I learned from JR that I didn’t want to date a guy that was way too into himself. He bragged about how much money he makes, how he was too good for an audi, and how essential he was to his company. He was a true narcissist. If you check out his IG account, it’s full of selfies and his purchases. Yuck. I’ve bumped into him twice since those events. Once at a mall where I was trying to avoid him but he followed me into a store and waited for me to notice him and acted like he wasn’t following me. The second time was after matching. I went out to boystown to celebrate and since I knew I couldn’t avoid bumping into him, I went up to greet him. His first instinct was to mention how Antonio had visited him. Yup! It turns out that Antonio and him had a history. Antonio flew all the way out here to visit him right after out heated break up in August 2012.

Kekoa was one on the reasons why I was excited to move to Chicago. Don’t judge me here, but I actually screened all the cities where I could do my clerkship for which had the most attractive guys. Kekoa's profile was one of the first ones listed in Chicago, and I had an instant crush on him. I wanted to meet him, but I decided I needed to practice talking to other guys online first to not blow my chance with him. His profile included a story about playing a game of Taboo that was so wild that the police were called due to a noise complaint. Luckily I had plenty of experience playing Taboo in medical school because it was one of the only games we had on the island (thanks, Nick’s mom!) and I was able to send a message with more substance than “Hey, what’s up?”. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when he messaged me back and agreed to meet up. Our first “meet up”, as he likes to call it, started at a cocktail lounge, where I got carded and became self conscious since he told the bartender that I looked like a baby. Luckily, our dinner went well, and conversation felt seamless; I even had to excuse myself to put more money into my parking meter. I thought it was a perfect date, but there was some radio silence afterward that made me think otherwise.

Luckily, I’ve learned that persistence is key. Since he wasn’t getting back to me about another date, I made made a trip up to his campus to make it too convenient to see me. I was told that a second date is the true test to see if it’s worth pursuing the person, and this date did just that. I ended up staying the night at his place, and when I awoke the next day, I was worried that I’d have a Bridesmaids moment and be kicked out, but he invited me to get breakfast and taught me how to parallel park instead.

I saw Kekoa once more afterward, and then didn’t hear from him again. I remember reciting a prayer before sending him my third text in a row without a response asking God to inspire him to message me back. I was at work when I received a text from him basically saying that right now wasn’t the right time for him to be in a relationship. Although I accepted his answer, I timidly asked him to message me when he got back if he wanted to reconnect, but I knew that was a long shot and his track record only didn’t make me believe otherwise.

Juan was a nice Mexican guy that I met on OKC. We met up at the mall near me, which was really sweet since he was the first person that didn’t have me drive out to them instead. The first date went well and afterward, he told me he had a good feeling about us and wanted to see where things could go. I was curious too, so I eagerly agreed to another date. For our second date, he picked me up to take me to his favorite spots, which included a late night restaurant in Chinatown and Hollywood Ave Beach. I really appreciated that he wanted to give me insight into his world and that he wanted to share it with me. In the end, I didn’t really have any romantic feelings for him; I didn’t even feel inclined to kiss him or invite him up to my room after second date. I kind of loss interest since I had decided that I wanted to fully focus on Kekoa. I knew it wasn’t going anywhere when he asked if he could call me and I was completely uninterested in the conversation.

I learned that it’s important to be with someone who has more in common with you. Although Juan was nice, his idea of fun was watching drag shows and he worked as a store manager for Party City, so it made it hard for me to relate to him or empathize with him if he had a busy work day.

I bumped into him almost a year later at Scarlet and we both excitedly introduced each other to our boyfriends. I could tell that we were both mutually happy for each other and I really am happy that he’s able to make someone else happy.

Genesis was the first person I reached out to after Kekoa up and left me. I was so desperate to meet someone who could fill the void I felt that I met up with him after a short exchange of messages. I feel horribly shallow about this, but I could tell that I was not attracted to him from the moment I saw him. That non-attraction definitely put a damper on the rest of the date even though he was a genuinely nice guy. For once, I felt like he was trying to drive the conversation more than I was. To be honest he could probably tell that I wasn’t invested.

I learned that I was becoming desperate and that desperation is not pretty. Feeling desperate was even worse than being alone.

Ramil was a Filipino guy almost 10 years older than me. I wasn’t too excited to meet up with him because nothing in our conversations pulled me toward him. Regardless, I was so desperate to meet someone that I said I agreed to meeting up with him. There really isn’t much of a story here but I can’t help but laugh a little when I think back to how taken aback I was when he first opened his mouth and spoke to me. I was so surprised by how (Micky) mousey his voice sounded that I had to have him repeat his hello. Our lunch date was boring and I couldn’t even pretend to be interested.

I learned that I am just as shallow as every other guy out there. I couldn’t get passed the sound of his voice and judged him way too harshly.

Alan(?) was someone I met when I downloaded Grindr in an act of absolute desperation. Clearly, the theme of August was “desperation”. I was pretty optimistic about online dating and didn’t think it would take too long to match with someone. I felt pretty successful with the attention I was receiving from people on OKC and even more lucky when I had found a match in Kekoa up until he vaguely ended things. So I went on a date with someone from Grindr, a hook-up app, who didn’t have a very clear profile picture and it didn’t show his whole face. Big mistake. He must have used an old photo because it didn’t look too much like him. In addition, he was kind of bitchy and I wasn’t into his vibe at all. Obviously, he didn’t make much of an impression on me since I can’t even remember his name.

I learned to never go on a date with someone with just one profile picture. It’s almost a giveaway sign that they’re not going to look like it in person.

Bryan was someone who I was intimidated by on OKC. His profile was highlighted in red because it meant that he didn’t respond often to people’s messages. I figured he could be selective because he must have had a lot of interest thanks to the many shirtless photos he posted (in addition some really good answers in his profile). Surprisingly, he messaged me back! It was an instant ego boost that someone that OKC had labelled “very selective” responded to me.

I picked him up from his work and was happy to see that he looked like his profile picture but I felt tricked as soon as he opened his mouth because it turned out he was a Vietnamese fob with a very strong accent. So in that instant, I became a self hating Asian. Horrible.

Our first date was pretty horrible too. He didn’t know where to go around his work so we ended up at the mall’s food court. The silence was awkward and palpable. I felt like he was just watching me eat and it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk. He finally opened up when we made it to a Starbucks. He was actually pretty interesting even though he was obviously shy. He was born and raised in Vietnam, moved to Singapore for school, continued education in Texas and then moved to Chicagoland because of a job that needed someone who was multilingual.

After a quiet date, he messaged me asking if I would be willing to go on another date with him. I agreed as long as he promised to not be less shy the second time around.

I will use this opportunity to take a break, recap, and try to tie in all these loose ends together

The darkest days in my story of heartbreak culminated during Labor Day Weekend. Kekoa had just ended things with me. I went on several “fail dates” that left me feeling empty, desperate, and ashamed. Needless to say, my self esteem was at all time low, and that’s a considerable thing to say since I had always been very secure in who I am. Things got worse when I received news that Antonio was coming to town. I still remember being at work and feeling my heart race to the point of exhaustion. I was shocked to hear he was coming here. Janet Jackson’s “Again” started magically playing in the background of that moment. I thought I had come to peace that he was no longer in my life since I had a few weeks to heal but I reached out to him trying to make peace. He never replied and I had to accept that I wasn’t going to see him although it left me devastated. This was the same weekend that Bryan asked me out and I was glad to have a distraction.

Bryan brought me to Boystown, the gay neighborhood in Chicago that I had never been to but wish I had discovered earlier. We grabbed dinner and then headed out dancing. I was actually having fun! I forgot about being down and out and just moved my body to the beat of the music. We went to another bar and he brought me to the third floor in a secluded area and attempted to kiss me. I cock blocked him and said, “maybe we should get a drink first.” However, he was really persistent. He made his second attempt at a kiss and I gave in. He was not a good kisser. I felt like he pursed his lips so tightly together that I could feel every wrinkle and my tongue had nowhere to go. Things got a little bit creepy when he tried to feel up my shirt. He said, “I can tell you have a nice body.” Honestly, he had a nice one too. Fully chiseled pecs and a tight 6 pack. He stood taller than me at 5′ 10″. We continued making out until he pulled back and said “I could fuck you.”

That should have been my sign to run away, but I didn’t. I agreed. I kept thinking about how Antonio was so displeased with me for never going all the way with him. I was at my lowest point and genuinely believed that maybe it was time to give up on losing my virginity to someone who I loved and loved me in return. I loved Antonio but knew that it was one sided, which is why I never let things go that far. After experiencing so much heartache and going on so many fail dates, I started to believe that I was meant to be alone for the rest of my life. I am not proud of that night and I get upset with myself when I think about all the opportunities I had to walk away from it all.

I felt gross the next day. I couldn’t even look at him without feeling sick. But there he was in front of me, representing all the things I had desired the whole summer--a boyfriend, a relationship, someone that was into me--and suddenly, I didn’t want it, any of it, anymore. That was the last time I saw Bryan.

I learned that no act of desperation should make you do something out of character.

When I was 13, a priest said that the purpose of saving sex for marriage was because we give up half of ourselves when we become one with someone in intercourse. If you go around having sex with multiple partners, you’ll only be able to give a small fraction of yourself to your spouse. If you wait until marriage, you can give all of yourself to the person you make a vow before God with. As soon as I heard that, I promised myself I would wait. I even prided myself in my determination. Yet at 24, at my lowest, I gave that all up and gave a part of myself to someone I didn’t even know.

When you are down to nothing, God is up to something.

I drove home feeling disgusted with myself, with my actions, what I gave up and what I had let myself become. I turned into a senseless person desperate for love. I became someone who’s self esteem was suddenly rooted in whether or not I was in a relationship. Believe me when I saw that prior to Antonio, I had never desired having a significant other because I never saw the point in having one. I was fully content in myself and the relationships I had with my family and friends.

I got home and declared to the heavens above that I was done with dating. I was done with being upset. I uninvited myself from my own pity party. I was focused on rebuilding myself and allowing God to heal me and make me whole again. “Shake it out” by Florence and the Machine became my anthem and every time I sang the chorus, I felt like I was gaining myself back.

It felt like the moment I that I was finally at peace with myself and my situation, the universe threw a few unexpected and surprising pieces into place and I accepted them with open arms.

After waiting what felt like an eternity, I finally sent Kekoa another text message. I knew that Septemeber 6 was his birthday, so as early as August, I planned on messaging him just to greet him. Unfortunately, OKC lied to me and tricked me into believing that his birthday was a day early. PRAISE THE HEAVENS ABOVE because Kekoa actually messaged me back! I wanted to be chatty but I had to control myself and keep it short, simple, and make every attempt to not sound like a stage 5 clinger. My plan worked because he messaged me several days later, the day before my birthday, asking when my birthday was.

When it rains, it pours.

Manny was someone I met on OKC after my crazy Labor Day Weekend in hopes of just making a friend. He didn’t live too far from the suburb I was in so we met up for bubble tea. He was actually REALLY good lucking, tall, and Latino. I was instantly attracted so I was disappointed when I learned that he suffered from Yellow Fever. I only hung out with him twice. My second hang out with him was at his place where we watched a Korean Drama (”Who Are You”). His room was covered in anime and K-POP posters. I was definitely taken aback by it but thought it was kind of endearing. However, I soon began to think he had an Asian fetish because he would send me photos of hot Asian guys on my phone and say “Happy Humpday!”. I never met up with him again but he was definitely one of the people that contributed to the upswing I was feeling as I turned 25.

I learned to NEVER date a guy with Yellow Fever! It’s super flattering at first but then it gets creepy real fast.

Smith was someone I messaged on POF (yeah, yeah, another dating app). He was Laotian, blond, and was only 2 years younger than me. My only intention was to make a friend and stated that from the beginning. I was surprised he wanted to meet up since most of his messages to me online were one lined and I felt like he wasn’t interested in meeting me when he could be going on dates. He was really quiet the first time we met. We were supposed to watch a movie but then all 4 of his roommates came home unannounced. I was really nervous to be meeting all of these people all at once and I could tell that Smith hadn’t told them he was about to have company over. I’m pretty sure he felt awkward introducing me to them when he had just met me moments ago. Regardless, I ended up having a pretty decent time watching “Insidious” with them.

Several days later, Smith invited me to his birthday dinner with his roommates and it was really fun. We went back to his place and he insisted we took shots for his birthday. We ended up not going out that night but he insisted that I slept over instead of driving home. I did. And it was so nice just sleeping next to someone and being held. It was purely innocent; we didn’t even share a kiss but I really appreciated that. I was leaving for home by the end of the week but he made me promise that we’d celebrate my birthday when I got back.

Everything changed when I turned 25.

One reason why my 25th birthday is so memorable for me is because my relatives from the Philippines were there to celebrate it with me for the first time! The other reason was that I felt like I had two prospects waiting for me in Chicago.

I started seeing Smith pretty regularly, but it was pretty casual, and I started wondering if we were just meant to be friends. That changed the night of his birthday party. A few of his friends I was meeting for the first time implied that they’d break my neck if I broke his heart, which definitely caught me off guard but gave me a bit of courage to be more flirtatious. When I tried ordering a drink for him at the bar, he placed his hand in front of mine to stop me from speaking, and I kissed his hand (I’m actually blushing as I type this). We went outside, made out, and I ended up staying the night with him.

I really, really liked being with Smith. He was young and fun, and more importantly, he made me feel young and fun. I loved going out dancing with him, fooling around with him, and just being around him. If I could talk to him now, I’d thank him for pulling me out of my rut and making me feel loved and special again. However, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. I honestly couldn’t see myself fitting into his world, no matter how fun he was or how sweet he was. It broke my heart to end things, but I learned that you shouldn’t be with someone if you can’t see how you would fit into their world.

Kekoa, again!

I was seeing Kekoa around the same time I was seeing Smith. We made plans to celebrate each others birthdays in early October. I was so excited to see him, but I was actually really offended when he made fun of my outfit and I actually thought he was trying to really hard to impress me. At one point during dinner, I even thought about how this would definitely be the last time I’d see him. However, we ended up going out dancing and drinking and I ended up at his place. I’m embarrassed to say that I drunkenly basically confessed that I had a huge crush on him and thought that he was marriage material. YIKES! I woke up the next say saying “I should go”, and left in a rush. But surprisingly, Kekoa messaged me again the next day and asked when he’d see me again.

Things got a little bit messy as I’d spend a Saturday with Smith and then have plans set for Sunday with Kekoa. But once I realized that I didn't fit into Smith’s world, it made it easy for me to end things with him to be with Kekoa. I formally made the decision to end things with Smith when Kekoa tried to nonchalantly call me “babe” and asked me to be exclusive (on November 1).

I wanted to start our relationship on an honest foot, so I told Kekoa that I was seeing someone the same time I was seeing him. Kekoa was hurt when he found out that our story wasn’t exactly how he perceived it, and I thought he’d never want to see me again based off of how he reacted. But the next day, he called me and asked to come over. He basically told me that he didn’t care about my past (cue “As Long as You Love Me” by the BSB) and that he loved me. He said it so easily and without hesitation. It warmed my soul in a way I can’t describe. It made me feel secure in us.

Needless to say, the rest is history and we’re still together, and still very much in love. I entered a relationship where everything was an adventure, where communication was mandatory, where every day felt important, and everyday with him felt like home.

What did I learn? I learned that:

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps, hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

Also important: I learned what I don’t want in a relationship. My relationship with Antonio was toxic and I allowed myself to be belittled into an empty shell of a person. I learned that it’s SO important to be with someone who values you, someone who loves you, and someone who won’t push you away or keep you at an arm’s length. It’s important to be with someone whose whole being is one that you want to emulate. And somewhat oddly, and I’m learning this in pediatrics, it’s important to be with someone who you’d want your child to grow up to be like and that’s what I have with Kekoa. If my offspring could be kind, intelligent, selfless, patient, adventurous, and have a healthy appetite, I know I would be bringing more good into this world.

I didn’t mention this earlier, but Antonio actually reached out to me with this message prior to my birthday:

“Jan - I know this is out of the blue and I’m probably the last person you want to hear from. I just want to apologize for not responding to your texts when I was in Chicago. In all honestly, I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know what to say because the last time we talked it seemed as if we weren’t going to talk/chat/see each other for a while. Things between us have been a little too emotionally heavy for me (and I’m sure for you too) and I really just wanted some space from that. I’m sorry for everything that has happened but despite all of that I still truly value your friendship even if we agreed to take a break from it for a while. I hope all is well with you and thank you for everything. Ps. Advance happy birthday”

I was tempted to respond and try to reconnect. But I knew I couldn’t. I know I couldn’t let someone so toxic reenter my life. And I’m proud of myself for severing that relationship with him and blocking him out of my mind and achieving peace.

I pretty much spent my whole 24th year being heartbroken, but that’s okay. I learned so much about myself in that year of self loathing and true desperation. I am a naturally optimistic, happy-go-lucky, and cheerful guy, so I am thankful that I was able to experience emotions I had never felt before. If anything, it makes better able to appreciate all of the happiness I have now and have an understanding of who I am at my worst and best.

I think what I learned is best said by my spirit animal, Dr. Christina Yang:

“Burke, Burke was…he took something from me. Little pieces over time, so small I didn’t notice. He wanted me to be something I wasn’t, and I made myself into what he wanted. One day I was me, Christina Yang, and suddenly I was lying for him and jeopardizing my career and agreeing to be married and wearing a ring and being a bride until i was standing there in a wedding dress with no eyebrows and I wasn’t Christina Yang anymore. And even then I would have married him. I would have. I…I lost myself for a long time, and now…that I’m finally me again…I can’t…I love you. I love you more than I love Burke. I love you, and that scares the crap out of me. I let him take pieces of me. And that will never happen again.”

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forensicleaf · 6 years

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Of Needles and Ice Cream

Link to fic on ao3

“Mr Stark, is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Tony says, tightening the band around Peter’s upper arm.

He wheels his stool back, picking the sixteen-gauge off the table, then scoots back across to the bed where Peter’s lying down, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than here. Truthfully, this is something that should have been done a long time ago, and Tony hates more than anything that it had taken the kid almost dying for him to finally pull his head out of his ass and get around to it.

“Now’s probably a bad time to tell you I don’t really like needles, huh?” Peter says, eyeing the one in Tony’s hand with trepidation.

“Probably. But you don’t need to worry, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

Peter drags his eyes away from the – okay – admittedly huge needle Tony is holding, and looks up at him, eyes wide as freakin’ saucers and face devoid of all colour. Jesus, he hasn’t even started yet and the kid already looks like he’s about two seconds away from keeling over.

“Ye of little faith,” Tony says drily.

“No, no, no.” Peter says fast. “No. It’s not you. It’s just- I just- mmm.” Peter looks down at the needle again and it hardly seems possible, but it looks like his face goes even whiter.

“Pete,” Tony says, dropping his hand so it’s out of the kid’s line of sight, “look at me. This is nothing, okay? I’ve seen you jump off the Empire State building and not shoot a web ‘til you’re about five seconds away from painting the sidewalk.” Which is not a memory he recalls fondly. At all. Peter might have gotten a thrill out of it but it had terrified the shit out of him when he’d watched it back on the Baby Monitor Protocol. “You can do that; you can do this, no problem.”

Peter’s face seems stuck in a permanent grimace.

“What? What is it?” Tony sighs “You want me to get Pepper in here so she can hold your hand?” He’s actually being sincere, but he realises how he must have come across when some colour creeps back into Peter’s face – a steady blush – and he sputters out an indignant “What? N- no.”

Tony goes with it. “I’m serious, kid - she’ll do it. You know she can’t resist those baby browns of yours.” None of us can. He’s yet to introduce the kid to anyone who’s not completely enamoured to him within the first five minutes.

Peter’s eyes roll at that. “Ugh,” he groans, head flopping back against the pillow, “just do it. Quick before I change my mind.”

Tony laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, hold still.”

He taps the inside of Peter’s arm a couple of times to bring up the vein there, then quickly swipes the crook of Peter’s elbow with a sterile wipe. He raises the needle.

“Wait! Wait,” Peter yelps, voice high and breathy as he pulls his arm in towards his body.

Tony hangs his head. “Kid.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter is babbling, “I’m not gonna lie, Mr Stark – this is totally freaking me out. I don’t – I don’t think I can do it, I’m sorry.” His foot is jiggling nervously on the cot, and Tony reaches out and places his hand on his leg, stilling the motion. Peter sucks in a breath, turns his eyes to Tony’s, and his gaze is pleading.

Tony wants nothing more than to throw the needle down and call the whole thing off - if only to get that expression off the kid’s face. But he can’t. He can’t. What happened last month nearly destroyed him.

He thinks of Peter, bleeding out in the med bay, losing blood quicker than his rapid healing could replace it, thinks of the heart-wrenching wail on the other end of the line when he’d called the kid’s aunt and told her to get here, and get here now. He thinks of the guilt, and the utter rage and stupidity he’d felt when Dr Cho had told him Peter’s spider-DNA-infused blood was incompatible with any regular donor and asked if they had a stockpile of his own on site.

He thinks of the despair he’d felt when he’d had to answer, “no.”

It’s sheer fucking dumb luck and a testament to Helen’s ability that the kid didn’t die. And next time – not that there’s ever going to be a next time if he has anything to do with it – they’re going to be prepared. He’s taking Peter’s blood even if he’s got to get one of his suits to hold the kid down while he does it.

But he’s confident it’s not going to come to that.

Tony sighs, drawing the needle away from Peter again. “Did I ever tell you about the time we did this for Banner?” he asks casually.

Peter seems to perk up a bit at that. “Banner? Doctor Bruce Banner? He did this?”

“Yep.” Tony nods. “Same reason we’re doing it now. That chemical make-up that lets him go all Jolly Green also means he can only have his own blood for transfusion, even when he’s not hulked out. No, I don’t know the specifics, so don’t ask,” he says, waving his hand. He can practically see the wheels turning in the kid’s head.

“Anyway, Brucie is a scientist, right? Biochem, regular Chem, Physics, you name it. So he’s no stranger to needles – uses ‘em all the time. You’d think he could handle one being used on him.” He pauses for dramatic effect. Peter is now listening to him with rapt attention, and Tony notices the way the nervous tension seems to be gradually leaving the kid’s body as he continues to talk. “Nope,” he finishes, tickled by the bemused expression on Peter’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you know how some chefs hate eating at restaurants, or chauffeurs hate being driven? Well Banner’s thing is needles. Perfectly fine sticking them into others, not a huge fan of people sticking them in him. Hates ‘em.”

“That’s just - ” Peter laughs. Good. That’s good. “I can’t picture it.”

“Took a good few weeks to catch on to the reason something always seemed to come up when we were scheduled to meet up. No joke, kid, when we finally got him in here he just about hulked out right there on the cot.”

“No way,” Peter breathes, blinking down at the bed, and Tony isn’t sure if he’s acknowledging the story or simply in awe of the fact he’s sprawled out on a piece of furniture that Banner touched one time. Honestly, give the kid a suit, fly him on a private plane to Germany, offer him a spot on the team and you’d think he’d at least be subtle about Bruce being his favourite - he hasn’t even met the guy.

“Uh- huh,” Tony says, taking Peter’s wrist in his free hand. He can feel the pulse there fluttering under his fingers. Peter looks at him curiously, but he doesn’t resist as Tony pulls gently, guiding his arm back down towards the bed, straightening it out. “My point is,” Tony continues, tapping to bring up a vein again, “you’re already handling this better than he did, because you haven’t tried to lay me out yet.”

“Yet,” Peter smirks, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Holding a big needle, kid.”

Peter winces, but he gives Tony a wobbly smile. “Yeah, I didn’t forget that part.”

He still looks nervous, a little pale, maybe, but less so than before.

Tony holds the needle, poised over Peter’s skin. The kid’s eyes flick down to it, then up to meet Tony’s, and the trust he sees in them makes something warm bloom inside his chest. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve the faith Peter seems to have in him, but he’s damned well going to spend the rest of his life making sure he earns it.

“You ready?” he asks, surprised at the patience in his voice and knowing that he shouldn’t be, really - everything goes out of the window when it comes to this kid.

Peter blows out a shaky breath. Nods, jerkily. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

Brave kid.

Tony positions the needle. “Don’t look if it’s gonna freak you out, okay?” he says, and Peter nods again, eyes drifting towards the ceiling. He flinches a little as Tony presses the needle in, but otherwise doesn’t make a sound. Tony makes sure the blood is flowing through the tube and into the bag, and once he’s satisfied it’s all good, he tapes the needle in place.

“Done.”

Peter blinks. He rolls his head, eyes going to his elbow, and the blood that’s now running freely through the clear tube. “Oh,” he breathes, “that… wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“What’d I tell you? I know what I’m doing.” He taps the kid’s hand. “Now make a fist – like that, yeah – and just unclench it every now and again. Keeps stuff moving.”

“How’d you know how to do that?” Peter asks, lifting his arm to observe where the needle disappears into his skin. “Like how do you know where to stop?”

Tony presses his arm back down to the cot. “Don’t do that. Leave it there.”

“Did Colonel Rhodes teach you?” Peter goes on. “Do you have to learn this stuff when you join the Avengers?”

“Something like that,” he says vaguely. That’s a whole other can of worms for a whole other time. Scratch that, it’s a can of worms for never. Peter doesn’t need to hear about the tragic younger years of Tony Stark.

“What’s this all about anyway?” Tony deflects, gesturing towards the kid, who’s done a complete one-eighty from trembling at the sight of the needle and is now watching his blood make its way through the tubing with utter fascination. “I thought you hated this stuff. Or was all that drama just for show?”

Peter gives him a look. “Well it’s fine now it’s in. I’m not bothered by that,” he says, like it makes perfect sense.

“What?”

Peter shrugs. “Yeah, like - this is fine. Pretty cool, actually. It’s the bit where it pops through the skin that I can’t deal with.”

Pops through the-

“What?” Tony says again.

“You know,” Peter says, miming with his free hand. “How it pushes in and then – pops through.” He shudders. “Blegh.”

Tony shakes his head fondly. “You are such a weird kid.”

Peter just smiles, flexing his hand before making a fist again.

It takes about five more minutes for the bag to fill completely, and Peter can’t seem to believe it’s over that quick.

“Is that it?” he asks, looking at the liquid swirling around in the clear little pouch. “How much is in there?”

“It’s about a pint,” Tony says, moving to disconnect everything.

Peter frowns. “Don’t you need more than that?”

“Well yeah, we’re gonna have to do this a few more times before we’ve got enough set aside for an emergency supply. Sorry, kiddo,” he adds, seeing Peter’s grimace.

“Can’t you just - take more now?” the kid says, hopefully.

Tony pauses, hand stilling where he’s about to withdraw the needle. Generally speaking, one pint is the safe standard when it comes to taking blood, and it’s not advisable to try for more, but then he thinks of Cap, who’d done three in one sitting without even breaking a sweat. Things are a little different when you’re dealing with the enhanced. Knowing Peter’s healing ability, his body’s likely already well on its way to replacing the unit he’s just lost, so they’re probably okay to go for one more round. Maybe.

“Depends,” he says slowly. “How you feeling? Any nausea? Dizziness?”

“What? No,” Peter frowns, “I feel fine.”

Tony eyes him sceptically. Peter isn’t exactly forthcoming about these things. The kid would probably rather stand up in the middle of a prison cafeteria and announce he’s Spider-man than admit he’s not feeling too hot. It makes Tony hesitate.

“Seriously, Mr. Stark, I’m fine,” Peter insists.

Reluctantly, Tony gives in. “Okay,” he says, “one more bag, but if you start to feel weird for whatever reason, you tell me right away, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“I mean it, kid,” he warns.

He attaches up the second bag, checks everything’s good with the tubing and the needle, which all seem fine, then makes his way across the room to the storage vault. He places the blood bag in the newly-designated section labelled Spider-man (most of the people here know who Peter is by now, but Tony’s nothing if not cautious) and hopes to god they never have to use it.

When he makes it back, Peter is exactly where he left him, except in the two minutes Tony’s been gone, he’s pulled his phone out and is now making ridiculous faces at the screen.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, hey,” he calls with a smile when he sees him, like he wasn’t just doing a pretty decent impression of a pufferfish as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Come say hi to Ned.”

“What are we doing? Are we Skyping him or something?” Tony asks, pulling the stool over to the bedside and taking a seat.

“No, no, it’s Snapchat. He bet me I’d chicken out, so,” he gestures to the screen, “photographic evidence.”

“Snap what, now?”

“It’s this app where you – you know what, doesn’t matter. Smile!” Peter says, holding the phone aloft.

Tony throws up a lazy peace sign.

“This better not end up on TMZ or anything, kid. I think Pepper’s had to deal with enough ‘illegitimate children’ scoops to last a lifetime.”

Peter laughs. “It’s just Ned. Well, and May.”

“And me,” Tony adds. “Send me that.”

If he makes it his new wallpaper, well, that’s his business.

He looks up from his phone at the sound of Peter sighing. His head falls back against the cot, eyes closing briefly, and does he look a little drawn, or is that just Tony mother-henning? He flicks his finger against Peter’s shoulder.

“Kid. You doing okay?”

“Hmm?” Peter blinks, eyes tracking over in his direction. “Oh, yeah. Fine. I was just thinking.”

“About?” he asks, leaning over and grasping Peter’s free wrist. Just to be on the safe side. The pulse there thrums against the pads of his fingers, strong and steady – maybe a tiny bit fast, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary given the situation.

“Being bitten by a vampire,” Peter says, a lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Oh god,” Tony groans, “I thought we’d seen the back of that stupid craze in 2012 or something.”

Peter sounds almost bored as he says, “It never dies, Mr. Stark, that’s kinda the point.”

Yeah, okay, he walked into that one. He sighs, long-suffering, tipping his head as he levels Peter with a look that says really?, but the kid just shrugs, looking vaguely amused by his own perceived comic genius.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Tony says, but he can’t keep the affection out of his voice.

Peter laughs at that, but then quickly sobers. They sit in silence for a minute or so, and Tony notices Peter begin to take deeper breaths every now and again, like he’s about to say something, but he never actually does. It’s driving Tony nuts. He’s just about to tell the kid to spit it out when Peter looks at him and asks quietly, “Um, are we almost done?”

So that’s what it is.

Tony glances at the bag, then at Peter, concern furrowing his brows. “Just about, bud, why? You not feeling too good?”

“Uh…” Peter starts, looking up to the ceiling again. He swallows hard. “No, no – ‘m fine. Just… tired.”

Yeah, right. Knowing Peter as well as he does by now, he’s confident that I’m tired more than likely means I’ve been feeling like crap for a good five minutes and just didn’t want to say anything. Feeling tired is to be expected, especially after filling two bags, but Tony isn’t taking any chances. Time to finish up.

“Okay,” he says, giving Peter’s hand a light squeeze. “Okay, we’re done, then. You did good, Pete. A whole two pints - that’s pretty badass.”

“Yay,” Peter says, but there’s no real enthusiasm behind it. The kid looks wiped.

Tony quickly withdraws the needle from his arm, placing a cotton ball over the bead of blood that wells up in its absence. “Press down on that,” he tells Peter, and Peter obliges, holding it in place as his eyes follow Tony around the workspace, watching as he seals off and stores the second bag.

“Don’t think doubling up this time round gets you out of next month’s session, by the way, kiddo,” Tony comments as he searches for a band-aid. He’d bet his ass that’s the reason the kid was so insistent about pushing for more today. “Doesn’t work like that.”

He looks back in time to see Peter’s half-hearted scowl and chuckles. Called it.

There’s still blood oozing from the needle site when he pulls the cotton away, haloed by a shadow that promises to become an epic bruise. That’s unusual for Peter’s normally speedy healing, but in the same way it’s not quite one hundred percent when Peter doesn’t keep his calories up, Tony figures it’s just taken a momentary hit from the dip in blood volume and is trying to figure out what to deal with first.

“Don’t look so glum, kid, hard part’s over. Now it’s ice cream time. Gotta get those blood sugars back up,” he says, swiping the crook of Peter’s elbow with the cotton ball one more time. That bruise is starting to look pretty nasty, now, so he makes sure to apply the band-aid with a light touch. “I know the candy is the only reason you agreed to all this in the first place. Don’t think I was fooled for a second.”

Peter lets out a shaky laugh. “Um,” he says, and the crack in his voice has Tony’s head whipping up. His heart gives a hard thud against the wall of his chest.

“Pete?”

“Mr. Stark, uh,” Peter says in a thin voice, swallowing convulsively, and Tony’s definitely not imagining it now – the colour is rapidly leaving the kid’s face, disappearing like water down a drain. “I feel… a bit like I’m gonna throw up.”

Tony feels his stomach drop. He fucking knew it.

“Okay,” he says, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just means you overdid it a bit. It’ll pass. Stay there. Close your eyes if it helps. I’m gonna get you a bucket – just in case.”

He turns around to do just that, opening one of the many cabinets running along the east side of the room to find something vaguely bowl-shaped, but no sooner than he’s got his back to the bed, there’s a strangled gasp of “Mr Stark!” from behind him.

He grabs the first thing that doesn’t have holes in it and swings round in time to see Peter bolt upright in panic, hand over his mouth, eyes wide. It’s too fast - much too fast for someone who’s only just finished losing almost a fifth of their blood volume, and Tony knows what’s about to happen a second before it does.

Peter wavers, breathing deepening, and if he was pale before, he goes positively ashen now. His eyelid flicker as he blinks rapidly for a moment, and then his eyes roll back and he slumps, out like a light.

Tony’s already diving towards him as he starts to pitch forward. The steel bowl he’d been holding hits the floor with a clatter that echoes through the space as he lunges and catches an armful of limp Spider-kid. Peter is surprisingly heavy like this, all boneless and floppy-limbed, and Tony grunts as he takes the weight, readjusting his footing so he doesn’t drop the both of them to the floor.

“Shit,” he breathes, hand coming up to cradle the back of Peter’s head where it’s resting against his shoulder. The kid’s hair tickles the side of his face, and he presses his cheek into the brown curls for a second, sighing. He can smell the apple shampoo that Peter uses. “I gotcha. You’re alright.”

Stupid. He’s so stupid. Why did he believe for a second the kid would actually give him a heads up when he started feeling woozy. They probably should have stopped half a pint before they did.

His hands are shaking, he realises, as he gently lowers Peter back down onto the cot. He knows he shouldn’t worry – this isn’t anything life-threatening, or even particularly damaging to his health, but trying to manoeuvre the kid onto the bed feels a little too akin to handling a dead body for Tony’s liking. He presses his fingers against the pulse point at Peter’s throat, reassured by the steady beat he finds there. He’s fine.

He’s propping Peter’s feet up on a mountain of pillows, trying to guide the eight pints of blood still circulating round his body back up to his brain when Pepper rounds the doorframe. Her face is flushed.

“Tony, is everything all right in here?” she asks. “I heard – oh my god! Is he okay?” Her eyes widen as she sees Peter passed out on the gurney, and she takes a hesitant step forward.

“He will be,” Tony assures her. “Just sat up too fast.”

Pepper’s eyes flick from him to Peter’s prone form and back again. “That… doesn’t normally happen after one unit.”

“Uh… more like two,” he admits, dragging a hand across the back of his neck.

Her mouth drops open. “Tony.”

“I know, I know. I thought he could handle it. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Peter lets out a little groan then, and all of Tony’s attention snaps down to the cot, where the kid’s beginning to stir. “Hey buddy, you back with us?” he murmurs, squeezing Peter’s shoulder gently, thumb swiping back and forth across his collarbone. Peter’s eyelids flutter, a small crease appearing between his brows as he starts coming round.

“Pep,” Tony says in that same, low tone, “You think you could grab some OJ? And ice cream. Oh and some of those m&m’s the kid stashed behind the coffee machine? Hell, just - anything loaded with sugar. Please?”

He shoots her a glance over his shoulder. Her face has softened and she’s looking at him knowingly, a small smile playing at her lips. Anyone else and it would make him feel defensive, but this is Pepper. She’s the smartest woman he’s ever met – smart enough to see through all his bullshit. She knows him better than anyone, probably better than he knows himself.

“Of course,” she says, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

She leaves, and Tony turns his focus back to Peter, who’s now blinking dazedly up at him. He can tell the second Peter realises where he is because his face scrunches up and he groans.

“Oh man. Tell me I didn’t -”

“Swoon like a Disney princess?” Tony finishes for him. “Sorry bud.”

Peter whines, covering his face with his hands. “Noooo. Mr Stark.”

“If it’s any consolation, it was a pretty impressive nose dive.” And by impressive, he means fucking horrible. Seriously, no repeats of that. Ever, if possible.

Peter glares at him from between his splayed fingers, but Tony can tell it’s out of embarrassment more than anything else. He places his hand lightly on the top of Peter’s head, fingers brushing a few strands of hair back from his forehead. “How’re you doing?” he asks, suddenly serious.

“I’m fine,” Peter replies petulantly, and Tony snorts.

“Don’t get sassy with me, kid. I distinctly remember telling you to let me know the second you didn’t feel all right. This?” he jabs a finger in Peter’s direction. “Not my fault.”

Peter sighs, but he doesn’t make any attempt to argue.

“Do you still feel like you’re gonna toss your cookies?”

“No.”

“Feel dizzy?”

There’s a pause. “A little. More like, shaky, I guess?”

Tony nods. “Thought you might be. Pepper’s already on her way back with the goodies. And I’m giving you a one-time free pass to eat yourself into a diabetic coma, so you better be ready.”

“Pepper was here?” Peter looks mortified. “Oh my god, kill me.”

“And miss the opportunity to remind you of this every chance I get?” Tony scoffs, pressing his hand to his chest. “Pete.”

“You should be nice to me,” Peter grumbles, “I just passed out. I was unconscious.”

“You were out for less than a minute, kid, don’t be dramatic.”

Pepper chooses that moment to reappear, arms laden with just about everything sugary she was able to find. She smiles when she sees Peter is awake, and, tactful as ever, is also quick to notice his obvious embarrassment and graciously make a prompt exit, giving the excuse of having to look over some new company policies.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” she says, lightly patting Peter’s hand before she turns to go. Peter nods, cheeks pink.

“Thanks, hon,” Tony calls after her, wondering how he got so lucky.

He grabs the ice cream first, seeing as he knows it’s what Peter’s all about, and hands the tub over to the kid, who takes it gratefully. Peter pops the lid and digs in, eyes closing in delight as he shovels in the first spoonful of mint choc chip. Tony snags a bag of m&m’s for himself, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a while.

Peter’s energy seems to come back to him pretty quickly as he demolishes the ice cream, and before long, he’s back to his usual, chipper self. Tony listens contentedly as he tells him about his most recent patrols; about the drunk driver he’d stopped from clipping a young couple on a motorbike, which is admittedly impressive, and about the guy he’d kind of just had to subdue with webs for a while to stop him from ripping up fences in Queensbridge Park.

Then he mentions that the fence guy was dressed like a walrus, and Tony loses it, nearly choking on an m&m – honestly, how many packets of these has he had now? It’s probably time to stop anyway.

He clears his throat, grabs a juice box, then another, holding one out toward Peter.

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” Peter says, taking the carton. Then he swings his legs off the cot and sits up to drink it and Tony nearly has a heart attack.

“Relax!” Peter says, seeing what must be the look of absolute panic on his face, “I’m fine now, see?” He sticks his arm out, displaying his inner elbow, where the bruise there is now a dark purple that fades out to green around the edges, already half-healed.

“Huh.” That that super-healing really is something else. Tony resists the urge to prod it.

Peter doesn’t, index finger tentatively tapping against the inflamed skin. “So weird,” he says, “does this happen every time?”

“No, not all the time, but it’s normal enough. Does it hurt?”

“Nah, it’s fine. The whole thing was fine, actually. Y’know – minus the whole,” his hand cuts down across his body in a plane crash kind of motion, complete with sound effects, “…thing.”

“Yeah, I gotta tell you, it’s not normally this dramatic. Next time’s going to be boring by comparison.”

Peter’s expression drops a little at the mention of next time, and Tony can tell they’re probably going to struggle with this needle issue for a while, but then the kid seems to shake himself out of it, face brightening again. “Well, I guess I’ll bring Fluxx, then. You owe me a re-match anyway.”

“The Star Wars pack, I presume?”

“Duh.”

Silly question.

Tony huffs a laugh. Then he remembers.

“Oh, hey, I have something for you.”

He finds what he’s looking for easily enough in the desk drawer, and it’s a testament to how few people occupy the compound at the moment that despite him not having looked in there for months everything is exactly where he remembers. He presses his find to the fabric of Peter’s shirt, just over his heart.

Peter glances down at his chest, to the sticker Tony’s just placed there. It’s of a cartoon elephant holding a balloon, the words I was brave today! in a speech bubble coming from its mouth, or trunk, or whatever. Truthfully, he’d only gotten the pack to irritate Steve, but if he’s got the chance to tease the kid a little, too, he’ll take it. Two birds and one stone and all that jazz.

He fully expects Peter to roll his eyes, or tear it off, or perhaps even let loose with the time old favourite I’m not a kid, Mr Stark.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he beams, looking up at Tony like he’s just handed him the moon and all the stars in the sky to go along with it.

“You think?” he asks, almost shyly.

Tony smiles.

“Of course, kid. You’re the bravest person I know.”

#Spider-man: Homecoming #Spider-man #Spider-man fic #fic #irondad #I know this is posted on ao3 already but I wanted it here too

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polyamoroamer · 6 years

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Bad at Breakups

For someone who has been the instigator of 90% of my breakups, I'm shit at breaking up with people.

Usually by the time I decide to end a romantic or sexual relationship, I've exhausted all other options and been trying to find a good time to suggest breaking up for a long while.

A lot of it stems from my first relationship, which should probably have ended when he, a 22 year old, proposed to me, a 17 year old, after only four months of knowing each other.

My answer externally was no, I'm not ready for that. Internally, I was running away screaming. But the relationship limped on for another year and some, until I met someone who sparked some very intense emotions that just weren't present in that relationship. I broke up with my then-partner because I knew by then that this wasn't right or fair. I told him that I valued our time together very much and that I couldn't be in a relationship with him anymore.

Unfortunately, he decided to attempt suicide as a result of my breaking up with him. My mother and I drove for four hours to get to his home after he messaged me saying he had a gun in his mouth. What she remembers most of that day was me falling down the stairs after reading that message, and the long drive up. We reported him to the emergency mental health team and the police, who confiscated his gun (UK, laws are good and tight here).

He had been like a son to my mum, so she was desperately unhappy and angry with me for leaving him, and put a lot of pressure on me to rescind it. I refused. I'm actually still kind of impressed that I had the mental fortitude to do so under the circumstances.

I made two very close new friends shortly after all this, and their company got me through that disaster and the ensuing rebound relationship. It's something I am very grateful for. When my friends, family and ex partner were all losing their heads over the ending of that relationship, those two had never met him and didn't really care. They just wanted to take me on adventures and get to know each other.

My second longterm relationship was ended in what was for me a very gentle way and what must have been very hard for my partner. R and I agreed to break up when I went travelling, and spent the last six months of our relationship living it to the full and making the most of our time together, even travelling together for a month before the end. When I got on that plane, I saw him smiling and waving goodbye. I didn't see him sag and fold inwards onto my mother and sister as soon as I was out of sight like his strings had been cut. Regardless of our eventual incompatibilities, and our current wonderful relationships, I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for hurting R like that.

Another relationship ended with me laughing at my partner for secretly going monogamous and cheating on his partner with me. I didn't get angry or sad for a good few days because I was just reeling from what a pathetically thoughtless situation he'd managed to create for himself. In a way, it really was kind of funny.

I've only ever had one relationship end in a screaming fight, and while it was kind of thrilling, it was so goddamn awful I never want to repeat the experience. Suffice to say, by the time we'd reached 'you're a fucking crazy bitch' and 'you'll never be anything more than a washed up alcoholic wannabe', I realised it was time to call it quits. Weirdly enough, G's the one who drunk calls me the most telling me he loves me and hopes I'm having a good time.

Breaking up with my long distance datemate was a breeze. I messaged them saying I wasn't sure how I was feeling about it anymore, that I didn't know if it was a friendship or a relationship in my head, and they said they'd been trying to say the same thing for months. It still took me a year to say it, given I wasn't sure if it should be done via text, like 99% of our relationship, or in person, requiring a visit that might get one or both of us hyped up for something that wouldn't happen.

To be honest, out of all the breakups I've had, the screaming match may have been the easiest. It was harrowing and awful and I will never, ever do that again, but it was quick. Brutal, but efficient. I knew that it had to end, and now. As soon as we reached that point I knew I never wanted to go back. So when we talked it out an hour later, I made it clear that the relationship was ending along with the animosity.

Because that's what I find hardest about breaking up: timing. I've held onto relationships for months past a sensible time, just because I don't want to do it near someone's birthday or surgery or death anniversary or the end of university finals or during any other hard or important time.

I want to minimise the hurt, and minimise the possibility of driving that person over the edge.

It's pointless, I know, and unhealthy. I give advice better than I can take. If you're not feeling it, it's probably not right. But when I'm not feeling it? I have to be absolutely sure, for months. I have to know that that person will not send me a message saying they're about to kill themselves. I need to know that that person will survive and be OK.

Which, mentally, I do know. I'm aware that if, say, I was to break up with Z or M or H, they'd be fine. But I'd worry anyway. I'd be scared that Z would take it as a sign that she is as unattractive as her insecurities tell her, that M would think he was as incapable of maintaining a deep, close romance as his insecurities tell him. I'd be scared of being the one thing to make H cry.

Thankfully this is not a situation I'm faced with right now. But as Z and M have recently decided to change their relationship from partners to affectionate, mutually attracted and loving metamours, the subject of breakups has been in my head.

It's something I know I will need to get better at, and probably will practise a lot, but right now I can only own up to the fact that I am awful at breakups. I might be on good terms with most exes, and be very close to one or two, but I need to learn how to not drag things out when they shouldn't be. It's unfair to my loved ones when I do it, and I want very much to be fair.

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living-deciduously · 6 years

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I can’t sleep.

I’m definitely having some elevated hormones or something right now, because I’m feeling all of my feelings at once. And I keep telling myself that that doesn’t make what I’m feeling less true or honest, that devaluing my feelings based on hormones is a product of social conditioning and emotions ARE hormones...but sometimes I think that makes it worse. But I also believe I need to get them out, and address them without fear or embarrassment. So strap yourself in and bring some fucking high protein snacks because this might be a long one.

It started a few hours ago, when I was tagged in one of those question memes that float around Tumblr. The third question down was “Talk about someone you have been in love with.” It broke me. Romantic love is so starkly defined in our (human) culture, and I’ve never experienced it the way I’ve been told that I should. I have loved and been in love with more people (men) than I can remember, and I firmly believe that love can be defined in infinite ways and looked at from infinite angles. I’ve loved so hard I hurt myself, and so lightly that barely felt it... I was in love with a friend of mine when I was 13, as much as you can be in love with someone at that age. As it turned out, he was/is gay. We’re still friends, and I still care about him even if we don’t see each other or even talk that much. Personal history is enough for me to keep caring about someone, even when I run out of things to add to it. I probably loved a hundred different guys in high school, but don’t we all? I loved a man in college, who I never “officially” dated, but we had a...something. It ended very badly, and I’m not going into it. But I did love him while I was with him, and that counts. We’re on decent terms now, and he’s married. I am truly happy for him. Ironically, I barely liked the first guy I kissed. I told myself I did, but I did it because he was good-looking and somewhat interested in me--and god actually normal enough to take home to my parents. But that ended before it even began, and honestly I’m grateful for it. I loved a guy I made-out with at a party, a friend of a friend who I’d been attracted to for a while. I was thrilled to actually have someone genuinely like me back, for real this time! But I got scared. Really irrationally crazy scared to the point where I couldn’t make it to a second date. We had real chemistry and I was terrified of it. We reconnected briefly last year, but that chemistry was gone. There’s a man I’m only in love with when he’s onstage. But in the real world I just like him, and I think that’s okay. I could have fallen in love with a tall, smart, creative man I met incidentally, but I didn’t have enough time to do so before he moved in with a woman that he loved already. I don’t resent that. Sometimes timing is just bad. I love a man who I’ve had long discussions with on why a relationship between us wouldn’t work out. He has a debilitating mental illness, and I am not emotionally equipped to deal with it on that intimate a level. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. We stay friends. Sometimes we cuddle, in his words, “for that sweet dopamine rush.” I love one of my dance partners, but not enough to act on it. He has the clearest eyes I’ve ever seen. I loved the former coworker I dated for two months. I’d already known him for two years, so my feelings didn’t just pop up out of nowhere. He and I clicked mentally, which for me is very rare. When we got together we talked for hours, and were naturally honest and direct with each other. But I broke it off because I couldn’t see a real future in it, and I didn’t want keep seeing him “for fun” or to “see where the relationship goes.” There were other places where we were incompatible that mattered, and ultimately it was pretty mutual. I do still miss him sometimes, but less and less. He was also the first man I ever enjoyed being (non-sexually) physically intimate with. I’m asexual, I should mention that. Not everyone who reads this will know. But I wanted this to be written and read as truthfully as possible. By the way, none of what I’ve written so far is how I answered that third question. I actually thought of one person instantly, and at the time completely hated that I did. Here’s what I wrote: I do have this one friend. I’ve known him for several years, and I’ve never not had feelings of some kind for him. They have varied from simple friendly affection to wanting to pin him to a wall, with a stop on every part of the spectrum in between the two. That said, my feelings make absolutely no sense at all. We only see each other once or twice a year. We are absolute garbage at having a conversation when we’re alone together. We’re social opposites. And he has no romantic feelings for me. I’m not hypothesizing here either, I KNOW. But despite all of these things, my feelings for him never entirely go away. Even recently, when it seemed like he started to avoid interacting with me on social media (which is still kind of happening), they didn’t disappear. I did get angry because I didn’t think I’d said or done anything to make him want to ghost me, but under all of it the feelings were still there. ARE still there. Every time I see him showing manic fanboy enthusiasm for something, or making a stupid facial expression, or talking about how much he loves his grandma…I just crumble. I slide right back into the stupid irrational place I started. The worst part is I want to tell him all of this so badly, but I’m not willing to risk potentially losing his friendship and hurting myself that much. It was admitting this^ to myself that broke me. Rereading it still hurts more than writing about all of those other men did. Here is my most stubborn and vulnerable self, and I hate her. I’m crying while I type. I feel so stupid and small for investing so much emotional energy into someone who barely sees me. Someone who likely doesn’t want or care to look harder. I don’t hold him accountable for that. I have no grounds to make demands. There’s a decent chance that he and I will drift completely apart, and only do the online FB friend thing where we acknowledge each other’s birthdays and make witty comments back and forth. I mean, that’s actually what we’ve been doing for a while. I just have make myself come to terms with it. I can do that, right? This was incredibly hard to write. I often feel empty, or listless. I feel contentment too, but not often happiness. So when my brain decides to turn all my emotional dials to 11 at once, well it’s a fucking ride if anything. But as I get older I find I’m learning how to really think about those emotion dials and how they effect how I interact with the people and the world around me. I’m learning to acknowledge, and even slowly change the things about myself that I don’t like. What I wrote here was a fraction of me, but it’s a step forward. Lastly, my friends, if you read this and recognize yourself, please be kind.

#personal

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