#the universe doesn’t want me to have a stable life apparently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greypetrel · 10 months

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'Greis I'm looking at you' -I entirely agree with the tag :P I had to restrain myself from picking ten different flowers, buttt maybe "Elder" for Raina and "Camellia" for dark lady Aisling?

Hello Greis! 💜✨

Gonna do another post for the second in due time, I KNEW this was the prompt list for you. And if you want to ask something else be my guest whenever, it’s a fun list. :3

I tried to make it romantic... It turned out angsty. The raccoon didn't listen to me either and here she goes and she goes on forever. Because when she fucks up, she fucks up GREATLY.

Tis the prompt list

No One Likes a Jack-The-Lass

Elder- compassion

Having a crush is nice.

Having a crush makes you feel light on your feet and eager to wake up in the morning, gives you something to strive towards and makes you feel like, after all, you’re doing something right in your life, that in spite of the death and pain and devastation, there’s something light and nice to keep you anchored and afloat.

If you desperately crave stability after your sister was brought to the Circle, your youngest brother is either dead or a Grey Warden, your mother dead horribly but ten days ago, all you need is a crush to distract you and keep you smiling and going forward.

Having two is even better: one is there to distract you when there’s something cold and dead clutching at your heart painfully when you’re thinking that one would not be anything more stable than two friends mutually scratching an itch, and the other couldn’t be if you want to maintain the first as well. But it’s fine: as long as you keep them both private, close to your heart, without telling anyone, you just have the giddiness and the smile upon your face, without any of the maluses.

You don’t have to decide, if it’s all in your head. It’s easy, if it’s all in your head.

But there is nothing easy in both her crushes, as much as Raina has been trying her damn best to pretend it is. She can pretend life is good, that her feelings for Isabela, the one thing she clearly told her was out of the table with her, aren’t slowly gnawing at her well-pretended happiness. To pretend that she isn’t desperately explicit, lately, in how much she just wants to fall on her knees before Merrill, on the other hand, and tell her to please accept her and return her feeling and kiss her. To pretend that pursuing Merrill doesn’t mean leaving Isabela, and vice versa.

She doesn’t have to decide, and she can pretend some more, that her life is looking up. That her family may be half destroyed, in spite of everything she did for them, but she has friends she can count upon, she has two crushes, she doesn’t destroy everything she touches, she won’t destroy everything else.

The first crack in the lie comes one day, as she realizes that maybe her circle of friends is slowly cracking under her hands.

The first crack in the lie is realizing she is losing Anders as well.

Anders whom she laughs with. Anders who tried to teach her brother and couldn’t get him past repairing broken bones. Anders she always teams up with in missions. Anders who just gets her humour and launches it right back at her. Anders who fights against windmills as much as she does. Anders who does the right thing even if it means living in the sewers and hiding, and who wouldn’t take too much advantage of her house, even if it was freely offered as a shelter. Anders who understands hating oneself and disappointing the rest of the world. Anders who is her friend.

Anders who has been, apparently, harbouring feelings for her and is just telling her, in his clinic, in front of people and patients that are awkwardly pretending they aren’t there to hear.

Anders who is just making her hate herself all the more.

Because in another universe, with another person, it would have possibly to slip from a friendship to romance. She would tell him that she doesn’t care of Justice or that he sleeps in the small room on the back of the sewer clinic. She never minded, and she doesn’t now, she understands having such a low opinion of herself.

And yet, it’s not another universe.

“You can’t tease me like this and expect me to be still forever.”

And yet, he’s frowning at her and approaching, his eyes are intense, his hand runs to hers and-

“I-” She steps back. “… What do you think is going on between us?”

He stops, blinking twice at her, mouth open and at loss for word.

“I’m… I misunderstood? But you- You said-”

“Anders. I call Varric husband.” She underlines, and there’s regret in her voice, and she’s restless and wishing they were anywhere but there. She tries to be kind and delicate about it, but it doesn’t do much in having him look less puzzled and hurt.

“Yes but you are clearly joking with him, I thought that with me- Why the flirting? What’s… It’s Justice, isn’t it? You finally realized-”

It’s funny how in that situation too, they’re just there, both making a challenge of who can hate oneself better. Raina tho, is not a person who will stand down a challenge. Never was, never will be. Not on this thing in particular.

“No. You’re a dear friend but… I like women.”

“I know, but-”

“I mean that I like only women. I’m not interested in men. I never was. Not in Varric… Not in you.”

They stand there, one in front of the other, the air so tense Raina could cut it with one of her daggers, if she unsheathed it right now. Instead, she stands there, looking down at her feet with a deep frown, acrid bile rising up in her throat and feeling the eyes of every single person in the clinic, still around them and looking at the pair, burning on her skin, itching and making her want to run away, don’t look at the cracks, don’t look at how she ruined yet another good thing.

“I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with Justice, or magic, or…”

“No. I am sorry. I misunderstood. It won’t happen again.” He stops her, tone clipped, a wall rising instantly around him.

He steps back, clears his throat, and rights his jacket, just to have something to do with his hands, and with a nod of goodbye just turns his back at her and walks towards the back room briskly, with as much dignity as he can muster.

“Please, Anders, let me-”

“You should go.”

One step to follow him, and she stops at his words, her hand in the air, outstretched. She lets it fall at her side, the eyes around her burns more every second it passes. She should be stubborn and follow him and make him turn and make him listen and explain. But there’s a wall before her, and she feels horrible, and it’s, suddenly, like watching her mother’s back on the way back home, silent and disappointed in her, back in Lothering when she still was trying to find her a good marriage in those dreadful months after her father died and they struggled with money and keeping the farm. Her mother who told her she was proud of her just before dying, and whose words Raina really can’t believe were but just a void peace offering, at long last.

Nauseated with herself, Raina steps back and, not ready to face that here and there, where everyone can look. She’d need compassion, now, and it’s not the place she can find it. And there’s nothing she can do to fix this, no magic spell, no helpful spirit, no nice gesture or chore to do in his place. What she can do, is listen to what he wants and heed it. She walks mechanically to the exit door, and from there she runs.

---

“Do you need to tell me something?”

“Do you want me to tell you poems now?” Isabela laughs, not turning to look at her as she slowly brings her hands on her back, untying the bow and loosening the laces of her corset carefully, in the way she knows Raina likes. “What should it be… Roses are red, violets are blue / Charming Hawke how much I desire you.”

She snorts, not really in the mood for jokes, for once. Not that anything changed for her, on the contrary: if she’s ill at ease with Bela is just because she is desperately wishing whatever this was meant more for her as well, and that the piratess would just tell her that she doesn’t desire other people as well. But that is not a topic Raina will introduce first. No, what is sitting heavily on her conscience and distracting her from the obvious and well-practiced attempt to seduce her is something else, right now.

“I meant what happened this morning, actually.”

“Oh? What happened this morning? I may need some… Incentive to refreshen my memory.”

The corset gets thrown at Hawke, who catches it as it collides against her chest, holding it up where it landed and keeping it there. Having something for her fingers to fidget with helps, as she steps back just enough to lean against the wall.

“I’m serious, Bela.”

“Mh, come and tell me how much, would you?” She whispers, strutting to press herself flush to Hawke, hopping on the balls of her feet to tease her lips with hers for a kiss, hands falling on her hips.

It’s a struggle, by then, to keep concentrated, but with what happened with Anders but yesterday, the doubts Raina has over the event of the day and… And well, whatever’s going on with Merrill, it’s less of a struggle to resist to the piratess’ attentions and lean her head back, refusing the kiss and making her lover pout.

“You ditched me at the Qunari compound.”

“I’ve been a bad, bad girl-”

“Bela.” She chides, seriously. “What’s going on? It’s the third time you suddenly remember you have something else to do just when we get there.”

All her reply is a sardonic snort and the sudden lack of a warm, soft body pressing her against the wall, and being met with Bela’s eyes that are suddenly keen and attentive, not playful and… Raina would say loving to fool herself and stubbornly convince her that her feelings are not unrequited.

“What about it? I don’t want to enter the Compound. All those stern faces give me the creeps.”

“You’ve told better lies trying to fend off people hitting on you downstairs.”

“So what? Varric lies all the time, you lie all the time, why is it a problem if I do? It never stopped you before.”

“I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing is going on, don’t worry about it.”

“Bullshit, Bela. Just tell me, I can help.”

Isabela, at that, laughs. It’s not a happy laugh, it’s mirthless and it has an edge of scorn to it. Particularly because the keenness of her face is intensifying, and now the woman is scowling at her. Barely two steps away, and yet daring Hawke to get any closer.

“You can help. Of course. The Great Hawke helps everyone, there’s nothing she can’t do, right? So of course you can also help poor, helpless me, the damsel in distress, terribly needing guidance as the current drifts me away.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.” Raina underlines, growing irritated at the unfair accusation and not minding how much it stings.

“What did you mean, then? If I wanted your help, I would ask.”

“I meant that I thought you trusted me, by now.”

“I do trust you, Hawke.” Bela replies, and there’s honesty in her eyes, albeit she’s still glaring at her. “I trust you in a fight and as a drinking companion, and I trust you in my bed. I don’t see where this-” She gestures vaguely at her. “-comes from.”

It stings. It stings painfully too close to her heart. A sane part of her brain, the rational, diplomatic one, tells her that she should not reply, she should apologize, lie if she must, and just either get on with the evening, or invent an excuse and get the fuck out of there. She should not, by any means, stay where she is, if she doesn’t want to come too close to her feelings. But Raina has always been bad at hearing her own advices. So, Raina stays.

“You trust me only skin-deep, tho.”

“And what’s the bad thing? Trust is still trust, I don’t trust many people even like that.”

“I trust you more than that.”

“And this is why I don’t go with girls all that much.” Bela sighs, heavily, turning her back and walking slowly to the head of the bed. “They always end up in wanting to paint our nails and braid hair as we gossip and confess the deepest darkest secrets of our life.” She goes on, sitting on the bed heavily and starting to unbuckle her boots, in nervous, jerky movements that betrays that if her tone may be controlled and measured, she really is not.

“I’m not asking you to paint my nails and tell me the story of your life.”

“As if.” One boot gets tossed on the floorboards, with a thud. “I don’t see why I should tell you every little thing that’s going on my mind.”

“Because we’re friends?”

“Varric is my friend, and yet I don’t tell him everything, why should I do it with you?”

“I think that I mean more for you than Varric, no?”

It’s out of her lips before Raina can really think about what it means, and it comes angry and suddenly, and followed by an instant, deep feel of regret and of knowing she just said the one thing she should never have said. The one thing Bela told her from the start she didn’t want.

More.

More than friends, more words Raina can’t stop vomiting at the other, months of emotional frustration spilling out suddenly against her will.

“I’m more for you, after… It’s been months of this, and I know you’ve not been seeing anyone else but me, lately. You asked me help with Castillion, not to I don’t know, Aveline in the City guard. Varric with his contacts. Fenris who’s a trained warrior. You asked me.” She points a finger at her chest, hurt, breath coming in ragged. She sees Isabela staring at her with a harsh bent on her lips and something cold in her eyes, and she knows she just lost the war. And yet, she can’t stop, even if she hears her voice growing into a desperate plea for acceptance, comprehension, compassion. “You were there when Mother… You came to pick me up. You rely on me as much as I rely on you, so…” She throws her corset on the bed, harshly, and it lands right beside Bela’s hip, with little grace. “… So, forgive me if I want to know what’s going on to help a person that’s more than my friend.”

Silence falls in the room. A perfect, thick silence full of the nervous tension of uncertainty. Of a maybe that, if Raina just closes her eyes and pretended hard, could almost believe it would have ended up in a yes. She doesn’t want anything else: a yes, some compassion, some understanding and something to go well even if she burnt all steps and fucked up royally by saying the one thing she shouldn’t have said. When she opens her eyes, Bela is still there, considering her from the other side of the room, seemingly ten miles away, cold and harsh. If she can read the plead in Raina’s face, she doesn’t make any sign of it.

“Maybe I should go.”

Raina finally says, voice hoarse. What she really means was to ask her to please, please let her stay, don’t give reason to the panic I’m feeling.

“Maybe you should.”

---

The house is too quiet, and it is driving Raina crazy.

She walked up to High Town without waiting for her brother, and slammed the door on her way in. Nobody came to greet her. It’s late in the evening, she registers absent-mindedly, of course everyone’s asleep and not there to welcome her. And yet, there’s no one there for her, and it just makes her feel lonely, giving reasons to the voices in her head.

The vast majority of her mental space, indeed, is still over-fixating on the one, single thought that there is no compassion to be had for her. She has fucked up in the span of two days one of the closest friendships she has built, and every chance she ever got at ever getting somewhere with Bela.

If she could cry, it would all be easy.

She could slam the door, wallow in self-pity and concentrate on the ten different memories of her mother telling her that of course it ends like that. Of course everything is exploding in her hands. Her mother always told her that she couldn’t get anything in life, she had to come to compromises and slow down. There was a limit she couldn’t cross, no matter how much she bumped her head against it. Wishing for everything all at once would only end her up with nothing at all in her hands. Leandra told her, but Raina never listened, and now everything is, as the prophecy went, turning slowly into sand. First her family, now her friends.

She is left there with metaphorical sand in her hands, wishing she could cry and vent it out and be better in the morning.

And instead, no.

Instead, her eyes are dry, her heart is beating fast, drumming in her ears and making her restless, not able to settle down, not sleepy, too antsy to read. She could grab her daggers and start strolling around Kirkwall until a band of thugs finds her, but in that state, she knows she wouldn’t be much of a fight.

She fucked up, but she doesn’t particularly care for ending up so beaten that she won’t be able to walk. Particularly, she doesn’t want to be found hurt and brought to Anders. Not now, really.

So, she does the next best thing: knitting.

But she’s not good for knitting as well, right now. Too antsy for it, her hands just won’t cooperate. Her leg bouncing up and down quickly as she’s sitting on the very edge of the armchair really doesn’t help. What she can do is doing a row and undoing it because the tension was wobbly or she missed a loop or did one knot more when she didn’t mean to. Do another, and make more mistakes. On repeat. The more she makes mistakes, the more she grows frustrated, and the more she grows frustrated the more mistakes she makes.

In the end, she just tosses her work in progress in the basket with her yarns and needles with a vengeance, so hard that a couple of balls rolls out of said basket and tumble all the way across the pavement. She just missed that, honestly: she can’t leave them, or Beowoof will have the time of his life playing with the loose threads when Garret and him will be back, and she’s already growing late with First Day gifts, if she had to go back and buy the yarns of the right colours all over again, she won’t make it in time. So, she pads around her living room, collecting back everything and rolling loose yarn in its balls, when someone knocks on the door.

Her heart does a double leap.

Garrett won’t knock. Garrett has his key, and the hour has grown a little late for a casual visit.

An emergency.

At the same time, something she craves and loathes.

In doubt, she runs to the door and opens it.

She opens it, and there’s Merrill.

Merrill who starts to ramble, entering her foyer and starting to pace, and Raina has really not the heart to tell her that it’s a really, really bad moment. She has not the heart because in the well of self-commiseration she’s fallen into and is desperately trying not to drown in, Merrill has something she craves.

Merrill has compassion.

She tells her she admires her, presents her all her virtues on a silver plate, with eyes big and sincere. Raina almost can believe her. Almost. In another moment, maybe she could. Right now she desperately, desperately wants to believe her, but…

“Who’s the person you’re describing? I didn’t know I had a secret twin…”

It’s a joke, but Merrill doesn’t play on it. She just looks up at her, and blinks, puzzled.

“Why shouldn’t it be you?”

“I pride myself in being a human disaster and a mildly successful trash raccoon. Hardly as virtuous as you’re describing.”

“I like raccoons.” Merrill tells her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. “They’re very clever, won’t take no for an answer and will thrive in every condition.”

“You wouldn’t want one in your house, tho.”

“It wouldn’t be as nice as having a pet griffon… But why not. It’s not a bad thing as you make it, being a raccoon.” She smiles at her, shily, blushing hard as she continues. “I would like you even if you were a fluffy destructive animal, I would just find you something more resistant to play with and make you a nice bed full of pillows… well, if you wanted to stay with me, that is.”

She giggles nervously, looking down bashfully, all boldness in making such statements abandoning her.

It’s not the talk they should have. It’s really not the talk and Raina should, by all means, be a responsible person and talk things through, tell her of Isabela and of the fact that she has no idea where they stands. Now in particular. Tell her she liked the both of them but didn’t want to hurt her if it was a problem for her. Tell her, before it was too late and she did something stupid. Not yield to a moment of confusion and fragility and jumps at the first lifeline she’s shown.

But being presented with just a little bit of compassion and acceptance, by a person whom she respects greatly and has been admiring, and even some more since the last trip to Sundermount… It’s too much. She has been needing that same compassion in the last period, she had been needing that same compassion ever since her father died and she was left the black sheep of the family, and yet the one that kept the farm running and provided. She has needed that same compassion ever since her mother started to teaching her etiquette and found her lacking and riotous to learn, simply not interested, and refused to come to terms with her, forced her to learn and to keep her hair long.

Raina does the third stupid thing in three days. She surges forward and just takes that compassion, kissing Merrill intensely, without thinking.

She comes as close to crying as she could get when the elf, after a moment of surprise, kisses her back and hugs her neck with her arms, pressing herself closer.

If Raina’s impulsive, Merrill doesn’t mind. If she wants to run and burn steps, Merrill is there to agree and smile at her, as bright as she never saw her. Raina’s hesitating, and Merrill kisses her gently and whispers her soothing words, telling her that it’s ok if she wants to stop. They don’t need to do much of anything if she doesn’t want. The more compassion the mage shows, the more the rogue surges up to take. And take, and take. Her body is lithe under her hands, her fingers nimble, and Raina lets her take her by the hand and bring her forward to the bed and be dragged to climb upon her, and kisses her again.

For some time, she blissfully forgets everything else that’s not her lover, her friend, her definitely something more than that, melting and moving, losing herself in bare skin and a warm embrace, and almost believing she actually is the person she described before. She’s warm and she’s comfort and all that matter, right now, is a “yes” or a “no”. And it’s “yes” and “yes” all over again.

But, her memory catches her back. It catches her back when she rolls on her side to regain her breath, slowly, eyes closed and basking in the afterglow, head tucked under Merrill’s chin and hugging her close, so close to her, and who cares if they’re both sticky with sweat. She really doesn’t and could also doze off, as the elf’s hands are absent-mindedly caressing her shoulders, fingers tracing a couple of scars on her deltoid.

“I love you.”

Raina blinks her eyes open and freezes, all her memories catching back, as waking up after a dream. The panic raises up again, and she lays there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do or say.

“I… I probably shouldn’t have said that.” Merrill laughs, with embarrassment. “I always says the stupidest things…”

It would be a good moment to give back the same compassion she’s been reserved. It would be a good moment to come clean and explain. Merrill is not Anders, she’s not leaving her because the wrong word will send her spiralling down, and she is not Isabela, recoiling because it all needed to be just skin-deep. Merrill wants to stay and she wants more. And Raina is frozen in place with a thousand things she should have told her before stuck in her throat and making her breath too quick.

“I… You said nothing wrong.” She manages to spit.

And yet, she can’t stay there. She can’t keep up the ruse. Not with her, not if love is on the table. She breaks the embrace and sits up on the bed, propping herself up with both hands at her sides. She tries to breathe, but her breath won’t catch, and it’s not physical exhaustion, it’s not being spent and satisfied. Her diaphragm just refuses to work under her ribcage and she feels her heart in her throat, choking her.

“Venhan?” A voice asks from behind, a delicate hand is on her shoulder.

Raina has never felt guiltier in her own life, and that’s saying something.

“I… Shit-” Her heart is drumming in her ears and she can’t breathe. Her leg starts bouncing furiously as she struggles to get her lungs work and to breathe in enough air.

“Hawe, If I-”

“You did nothing wrong. Nothing.” She snaps, more brashly than she intended, but it’s important to tell her. Even if she can’t bring to look at the other. “I’m- It’s-”

Raina can’t stay there one minute more. Not with Merrill’s hand still on her shoulder, caressing it soothingly, yet again with some compassion she doesn’t deserve and she hates and- She must get out.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I-”

And maker, she is sorry. She is sorry and feels horrible when she basically jumps out of the bed, eyes scanning the pavement for the clothes she threw off before. She is disgusted of herself when she fishes her shirt and slips it on, without a breast band, without anything. There’s a pair of underthings she has not the mind to see if it’s hers before slipping them on, jumping on one foot as she’s headed to the doors. She hates herself when Merrill follows her and tries to make her stay, to make her reason, and with tears in her voice -she doesn’t turn to look at her but she knows she’s crying- begs her to please forgive her.

Forgive her, as if the disappointment, the delusion, was Merrill and not her.

Forgive her, as if the one in that room that constantly fucks up everything she touches was Merrill, and not her.

Raina doesn’t listen. Raina unlatches her door and runs, as fast as her leg could bring her, as fast as a self-fulfilled prophecy can run, down the stairs and out the living room and the foyer, outside in the streets still blissfully too empty at that early hour to spot Raina Hawke running desperately away in just a white shirt and underthings.

She doesn’t stop until she is back at the Hanged Man, banging on Varric’s door as if it was a question of life and death. It is, in a certain sense, and after her brother, the dwarf is as close as she got to family, when her family is destroyed and scattered against her own best efforts. When her family is destroyed and scattered because of her best efforts. And as she feels her group of friends crumbling because of her, because she is stupid and deserves no compassion, she couldn’t but take advantage of the one that still hasn’t realized.

When Varric opens the door, cursing and complaining that it is way too soon and he hopes it’s important, she just collapses on his floor on hands and knees and, as tears still won’t come up her eyes, screams, long and primal, as loud as her lungs could go.

The whole tavern wakes up, but she couldn’t care, still whimpering and trying desperately to have her body start breathing again, barely responsive when she was coaxed in moving some more inside, so the door could be closed.

There’s compassion in that room, a friendly hand caressing her back and some tea with honey when she’s finished screaming and her throat is raw and hurting. She takes it, grateful, groaning some more.

“Varric.” She tells him, after a sip.

“Yes, you forget your pants and I don’t think mine will fit you, you beanpole.”

“Don’t write this.”

He stays silent, frowning at her as if she just insulted him, his ancestors and Bianca. He doesn’t scold her, tho. Maybe the fact that she’s curled in a corner, half naked and not shivering in the cold just because he slipped a blanket over her shoulders, still crouched defensively down and looking like shit, maybe that’s what stops him. He just sighs and comes sitting with her, on the ground, ruffling her short cropped hair.

“I do have some principles, Hawke.” He grumbles, with affection. “They’re not that many, but there are some.”

“Thank you.”

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #merrihawke #hawkebela #dragon age fic #ficlet #long post #writing petrel #raina hawke #I am so very sorry she just went and fucked things up #I love elder flowers but they always have that kind of duplicity?#Compassion yes but also witchery and something darker

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absolutebl · 2 years

Text

Star in My Mind

quick pitch

Star & Sky: Star in My Mind

April-May 2022 on GMMTV’s YouTube)

8/10

Main Tropes: university set, high school crush, jock/nerd, long term pining, secret crush, reunion

Adapted from a y-novel by Peachhplease, starring Joong (2 Moons 2, formerly one half of a VERY popular BL pair J9*) + fresh face Dunk, and directed by New in his usual blatant and somewhat mechanical style. The very first episode I said “I think I’m confused by the directing on this show. WAIT A SEC. Is this New phoning it in? (Runs to check.) Why YES yes it is.” So yeah... called it!

Back to Joon.

While it was awful nice to see our beautiful golden boy again, I think he was ill served by this role, or maybe he just doesn’t shine as brightly without Nine? Or maybe he needs a stronger directing hand than New’s? Yes I think GMMTV intends for Joong to be their next Singto but from this performance I’m not sold. I thought Dunk out acted him, making Dao a likable and complex character against which Kluen felt rather flat. Although that said at first I really didn’t like Dao.

This is (sort of) a lost love reunion arc (GMMTV bringing back the blue shorts, hello old friends) + freshy hotness contest giving it a 2 Moons vibes. It was fun to see some Wabi Sabi stable playing around at GMMTV, and while it sounds like I’m being harsh I actually did enjoy this show.

I like how honestly they treated all the faen fatals for a change.

I like how directly they approached the pain of rejection contrasted to loyalty and holding out hope.

I also liked that Kluen was set up to lose if he couldn’t get it together and actually communicate his feelings. It’s a good life lesson.

It was frustrating how long it took though. There was a lot of me yelling at the screen:

I don’t like shows that function on this “plot.” Miscommunication for the sake of it (or for the lack of it) is always frustrating for viewers or readers. We feel manipulated.

Also, ultimately, these two were a bit too sappy and Dao was a bit too blushing maiden for such an aggressive uke, but that’s par for the course with GMMTV and Director New. (After all, he’s rumored to be the reason Pharm is that way in UWMA, apparently he’s wasn’t written like that.)

Look, this is one of those shows that I shouldn’t really like after 400 BLs. It’s not at all unique, just some classic Thai uni folderol driven by miscommunication (or just non-communication) and yet... I COULD NOT STOP WATCHING.

Also good kiss. Honestly, 2022 is the year of the BL kiss.

It was interesting to see Thailand tackle a love triangle, but let’s be fair, it really isn’t their forte. Phoon was a plot devise to drive Kluen into confession. Thailand should leave love triangles to Korea, Korea pretty much owns it after all this time. They’ve put a lot of work into it, Thailand, ceed this one to the north, please?

All that said, in the end, the show itself worked for me, fitting solidly into GMMTV’s pantheon and it’s... how do I put this... central lane?

It feels like the Thai pulps are noodling along in in the slow lane, and the outliers like Mame’s shows and Cutie Pie and KinnPorsche are in the fast line. Sometimes we don’t know where they are going but they are going there QUICKLY. (With shows like SCOY just drunk driving all over the darn place.)

Oh I like this metaphor.

I guess what I am saying is GMMTV is like reliable soccer daddy of BL, a well maintained station wagon, clipping along but safely. And we all know what we are in for.

Star supplied exactly that.

It didn’t excel, like Bad Buddy, it didn’t disappoint, like My Gear and Your Gown, and it didn’t fly off the tracks like Not Me. It was exactly what I want from GMMTV.

Does that mean I am a touch disappointed?

Sure, because I had my expectations met and I kinda always want them to be exceeded, especially with us all knowing GMMTV can actually do better.

In short, everyone involved with this show seems to have mostly phoned it in, but it was a REALLY nice phone call.

That said?

MORE OF THE SAME PLEASE. I didn’t get into BL for the goddamn novelty of it.

RECOMMENDED

It’s basic BL. But honestly, don’t we all need that plain white t-shirt to wear under our engineering smock... in the end?

* Note: I did think GMMTV was gonna make a play for J9 but I guess they just picked up Joong. And apparently Nine is now a Cpop idol. Bummer he could have done very well in GMMTv’s stable.

(source)

#thai bl #gmmtv #bl review #recommended bl #My Gear and Your Gown #Bad Buddy #love triangle #kluendao #2 moons 2 #Star & Sky: Star in My Mind #star in my mind #it's on youtube

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cattatonically · 3 months

Text

Conspiracy of Dragons - Louisa Masters (Here Be Dragons, book 4)

Synopsis

There’s only one person I trust…

It’s no secret that I’m hard to handle. People get annoyed by me. Sometimes they’re amused, but not for long. It’s not easy to deal with a paranoid conspiracy theorist, and I stretch everyone’s patience.

Everyone except Wil. He was there at the beginning, when I left my old life behind, and he’s stuck with me since. He’s been my friend when no one else wanted to. Patiently taught me how to fit in. He’s the one person I know I can rely on.

He’s the only man I can see myself ever being with. The only man I would want to spend eternity with.

But when my past rears its ugly head and the stuff of my nightmares rises from the dead, the hope of a happy future rapidly fades. I need him more than ever, but I can’t risk him. I can’t let anyone use him against me.

Torture doesn’t have to be physical to hurt. And I’m not going to let myself be hurt again.

My Thoughts

When we first met Steffen, I was completely put off. Understanding later that his trauma had affected his actions on such a broad scale, for such a prolonged length of time, I got it. And it was a wake-up call.

We all have shit in our histories that aren’t for others to judge and understand. But the difference between explanation and excuse is the work put into rational decision making and critical thinking. And Stef puts in the work to be rational and critical daily.

Wil also understands this about Stef absolutely. He respects Stef’s boundaries, and understands his paranoia. Wil knows what Stef needs, when he needs it. And Stef can tell what Wil needs when he needs it in return. They’ve built a very solid, very stable relationship for a long time. But the one thing Stef’s paranoia can’t be placated by is the stability of their relationship. Wil can be used against him. And he has to keep him safe.

As Stef’s past comes back to haunt him in a really shocking way, Stef, Wil, and all of their friends step up to the plate in a big way to provide support and care. More of Stef’s past is revealed, and it’s even more hugely apparently that his rampant paranoia – which he works tirelessly to manage – is a manifestation of him being in survival mode for as long as he was.

But in the end, Stef doesn’t let the PTSD win. He pushes forward, and continues to persevere. With the love of his life by his side. They work through it, and handle the situation, and grow stronger and more stable for it. And honestly, having that kind of love, care, and support is the best way for Stef to move forward, and continue his healing journey.

Reaching the conclusion of this series feels a little bittersweet. Part of me isn’t quite ready to let go of this universe (and apparently there’s another spin-off series!), but I also feel like the Dragons have told us their stories, and their happily ever afters are the exact happiness they all deserve.

#Book review #Conspiracy of Dragons #Louisa Masters #Here Be Dragons series #Catt reads #Catt's life in books

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aajjks · 6 months

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Hey Alina. I need some advice please.

I need to choose which degree to study at university. I've been offered a space for a few different degrees at a few different institutions. Most of them only need me to let them know by January, but one of the universities wants me to decide this weekend to accept one application and decline one.

I'm a very creative person who loves many forms of art, although I am very capable in maths and science too. My parents say that I'm an expensive pet to keep because I like living a relatively lavish lifestyle, so they recommended that I get a degree and a job that pays enough for me keep up with the type of lifestyle that I'm used to.

The one degree that I applied for is artistic so I think I would enjoy it and absolutely love what I'd do. The other degree is science related in a field that I currently don't know much about, but it seems slightly interesting. I've been told that it's really difficult to get a scholarship in art and it's also really difficult to find a job in art. It also apparently doesn't pay very well. It's a lot easier to get a scholarship to study science, it's easier to get a research job and it typically pays a lot better than art.

I'm in a bit of a pickle, because I really don't know which offer to accept and which to decline. On the one hand, I'd love to be able to utterly enjoy what I do everyday, but I don't want to have to worry about financial struggles. I could probably get used to a simpler lifestyle with less worldly things. It doesn't sound too bad because I'm not that materialistic, but I would prefer not having to worry about just getting by day to day. On the other hand, I don't know too much about the science-related degree, but it seems interesting, so it shouldn't be so bad. It will pay well and I might still be able to do art on the side as a hobby if I have time, but I'm hesitant to get myself into something that I don't fully understand yet. The science thing is currently out of my depth, but I'm sure I could learn more about it, so it won't seem so daunting.

What do you think? Art degree that I love, but with few jobs and little pay? Or science degree that I might not like as much, but I'll be able to have a better lifestyle financial wise?

I have applied for about 20 other things too, but I'll make my decisions about those in January. For now, I just need to narrow these two down. I might end up having to just do art on the side so I can actually earn a living, but who knows?

In an ideal world, I'd study art and do it to my heart's content and just get a rich hubby 😌😜. Unfortunately I don't see that happening any time soon. I need TPOL!Jungkook in my life 🥲

Hi and thank you so much for asking for my advice. It means a lot

Also, I took my time to think about this because yes, it is not an easy decision to make about what major you’re gonna have in University.

I honestly think that you should pursue the science degree.

I know you are really passionate about art and it’s your best subject and I know we should always do the things we are passionate about but I think that we also need to build a stable future so I think you could do that with the science major and yes, it is also very nice to Gain knowledge about something you are not really familiar with. And art is a really great subject but like you said it doesn’t really pay much and we don’t want to worry about you know financial issues.

If I were you, I would have chosen the science major. Because you can pursue art at any time in your life art never goes away honestly.

but just my opinion cus I’m a very optimistic person. 🩷 and yeah it would be great to have a rich husband who will love you very much *sigh*

#asks

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selfmayhemnights · 9 months

Text

hi.

i know, i know. you’re probably thinking what the hell happened now that i’ve resorted to talking to you again. well, let me tell you. a lot. the late months of last year was a misery and the early years of ‘23 was a series of i don’t know and this is surprisingly fun.

one thing’s for sure and consistent, yep, you guessed it. i fell in love with someone i cannot have, again. don’t laugh. please. the universe already made the fool out of me.

i want to tell you everything, i’m just not sure where to start. do you want to know what happened about the person i fell in love with last year? it was a misery. everyone in the office knew about it and sided with him. as they should, it was my fault and i can’t blame them. but that point in my life is probably one of the biggest drive for me to control my alcohol consumption. i lost couple of people during that time, some bridges were reconnected later on but some completely fell off.

but we’re good now and i can see better now. he wasn’t really that good of a person either, especially to me. but we both moved on from what happened, and we’re both careful with each other this time. and i think that’s the best thing for us.

i met somebody new recently and i want to pursue his love. he’s different from the rest, physically and personality wise. he’s completely out and can be as feminine as me, which usually is a deal breaker. i’m surprised too. but he’s nice, easy to get along with, and most especially he has goals. i like that in a person apparently. i want to be with someone who has plans in life. someone who wants to be stable in the future.

but then again, i seem to have a problem being with the people that i like.

i feel something for them but they don’t feel the same way for me. he’s open to just being friends though, that’s what they always say (and then end up being in an awkward situation for a period of time, pft, men).

to be fair, he’s already seeing someone since two months ago and they’re living together now. and i fully respect that. convincing him to allow me would be cheating and too cruel. i don’t want that. his partner seems nice too.

you know, this is probably the most determined i’ve ever been. sure he’s not comfortable with the idea of me pursuing but that doesn’t mean i won’t wait. surprised? yeah, me too.

but i’m not going to wish ill on them. i’ll wait, and if the universe finally had enough of me, maybe, just maybe, i get to be with him. i’d like to know more about him, he’s very interesting. he’s a student leader and an academic achiever. do you see a pattern of the people that i like? i think i do.

i still have time to know more about him. maybe trusting the process works and maybe showing him that i am eager and willing to wait would be rewarded someday. maybe starting off as friends and not being impatient is the right way. fingers crossed.

this is probably the longest letter i’ve done. you’ll be hearing more from me often. promise. i think things are much safer with you. i don’t like talking to people anymore about stuff like this, i feel like someone’s going to jinx it.

i’ll talk to you soon. off to bed!

0 notes

jupitermelichios · 3 years

Text

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

#skyrim #spoilers #technically #although this game is a decade old and we all own at least two versions of it at this point #so i'm not sure it counts #long post

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evanjinx · 3 years

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alternative universe buddie fics recs :)

note: the links weren't working the first time i wrote the post but i edited and they're okay now!! if it still isn't working for you is probably because you're trying to open from a reblog from before i edit it, so try open directly from the original post on my profile.

Blind Date by @sassypopstar [complete | teen and up audiences | 3.8k words]

Buck feels a little ridiculous dressed in a jacket and a shirt. But Maddie had insisted on him dressing up for the occasion and even Chimney had quipped that it’s the right thing to do. So Buck, who never went on a blind date before in his life, listened to his big sister and her boyfriend because apparently that’s who he is now. Or the one where Buck goes on a blind date with someone called Eddie.

Buckley's Bouquets by awashleyno [complete | teen and up audiences | 23.4k words]

A world where Buck owns a flower shop and manages to develop a huge, massive, ridiculous crush on a handsome firefighter that comes in for a visit one day. Or, 5 times Eddie gives flowers to other people and the 1 time he gives them to Buck.

Call It What You Will - Fate? Destiny? (A Tsunami) by @abow123456 [complete | mature | 20k words]

Evan Buckley's day of relaxation is cut short when a tsunami hits the beach he was relaxing at. He has to fight to keep himself and a lost little boy safe from the water, as well as anyone else he finds. After, he meets the boys father and family, and it causes a snowball effect of good things for him, for once.

Capuccino with extra, extra sugar by buckbng [complete | teen and up audiences | 2.7k words]

Buck is the cute barista and Eddie is the grinch that hates coffee. Until, he doesn't. Because if Buck says he looks like the kind of person that would love a cappuccino, who's Eddie to disagree with him? OR Eddie really doesn't like coffee but pretends he does just so he has an excuse to see the cute barista at the coffee shop.

Confirmation Bias by strifechaos [complete | mature | 31k words]

After the fallout with his ex-wife, Eddie believed he could only trust his family with his son. He hadn’t imagined falling for his son’s sweet-hearted nanny, Buck. With his own family so distant, Buck never considered that he’d be lucky enough to find a home for himself, let alone people he could count on. Not until he meets the Diaz boys. AU: Buck was never a firefighter, and becomes Christopher's sitter when Shannon's job takes her away from Eddie and Chris for the summer. Eddie tries to not fall for his son's nanny, he's not very successful.

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings [complete | mature | 7.3k words]

Evan Buckley is lost. It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door. Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name. Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Frequent Flyer by red_to_black [complete | mature | 13.4k words]

In his entire time being a firefighter, Eddie has never met anyone as accident-prone as Evan Buckley. And Buck - well, he's quickly becoming the 118's best customer. (Or - the one where Eddie is a firefighter, Buck isn't, and Eddie finds himself rescuing Buck from increasingly sticky situations. Sometimes literally.)

Gave me no messages, gave me no signs... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 7.4k words]

"Buck is beyond nervous, and he’s really trying to convince himself that the familiarity of the situation is not some sort of bad omen. Just because there are parallels of the start of his relationship with Eddie to that of his relationship with Abby doesn’t mean that this new adventure is destined to end in the same miserable fashion. He hopes it won’t, has to believe it won’t. Because even with Abby, he hadn’t fallen this hard for her before their first official date. With Eddie, everything is already intensified by a thousand." Or, Buck covers a shift for a firefighter at the 136 and it leads to a budding relationship through text messages.

Gotta Find My Corner (Of the Sky) by doctornineandthreequarters [complete | general audiences | 31.3k words]

It was the last day of 2016 and two lost souls found themselves in a quiet dive bar, as the loud noises of the city celebrating New Year’s Eve buzzed around them. Most people chose loud, flashy bars with DJs and entrance fees and promises of champagne for New Year’s Eve. But both occupants of the dive bar preferred the quiet. They both didn’t need the added chaos when everything around them already felt chaotic. --- Or, Buck and Eddie meet on New Year's Eve, 2016, a meeting that sets of a series of events that changes the trajectory of both of their lives.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Till I Saw Your Face by @hmslusitania [complete | general audiences | 10.4k words]

After the ladder truck and the blood clot and the tsunami, Bobby makes Buck go to therapy before he does something stupid (like sue the city). Buck's not totally comfortable being alone with a therapist, but fortunately he makes a friend and ally who's willing to help him out - Eddie Diaz from the 136 who's just been caught in an illegal fight club. OR Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

i want your midnights by allyasavedtheday [complete | teen and up audiences | 36.3k words]

In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

i wanna be know (by you) by @starlightbuck [complete | general audiences | 12.5k words]

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Hen glances down at Eddie’s phone then back up at him in disbelief.

“How do you ‘not mean’ to download a bunch of dating apps but still have them on your phone?”

Or In which Eddie delves into the intimidating world of online dating.

if i got locked away (would you still love me the same?) by @firefighterhan [complete | general audiences | 3.7k words]

Buck gets accidentally thrown in jail after meddling in a fight outside of a grocery store. There, he meets an unexpected guest, famous music artist Eddie Diaz, who is being suspiciously quiet about how he ended up here in the first place.

if only in my dreams by @buttercupbuck [complete | general audiences | 5.4k words]

Years before Eddie joins the 118, Buck meets him at an airport bar on Christmas day.

in a week by @buttercupbuck [complete | explicit | 78.9k]

in which Eddie joins the U.S. Forest Service and in the meadows of California, finds the things he thought he lost and the things he thought he'd never have.

It Started With A Bang And A Hostage Situation by JayJay__884 [complete | general audiences | 6.6k words]

Buck goes to the store one late night to buy food because of Maddie's pregnancy cravings. Whilst at the store, Buck accidentally gets caught in the middle of a robbery and gets knocked out. After waking up in the backroom, Buck finds himself as a hostage with a handsome and caring stranger.

Leading with the Left by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 84.7k]

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

Lift me up by @captain--sif [complete | teen and up audiences | 5.5k words]

Buck gets stuck in his apartment building's broken elevator with his good-looking neighbor from the sixth floor.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels [complete | explicit | 11.2k words]

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

*stupidly handsome and annoyingly talented rival spy

Mr. Buckley's After Hours Detention by aresaphrodites [complete | mature | 11.4k words]

It’s not like Eddie Diaz planned on this. Really, there was no scenario in his mind where he would ever be bringing his son’s teacher a freaking goody basket to class; a homemade goody basket, no less. Then again, Christopher has never had a teacher quite like Evan Buckley.

MukbangsWithBuck by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 19.3k words]

After growing tired of eating alone in his loft, Buck decides to start a YouTube channel where he records himself eating dinner and telling stories about crazy things his team has encountered on calls. He eventually gains a substantial fanbase, and he is led to the channel of another LA firefighter who uploads informational videos and also casual vlogs with his ten-year-old son. It isn't long before the two start a friendship through messages, both of them secretly hoping it will turn into something more. Or, Eddie and Buck are both firefighters/YouTubers and they end up falling in love.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates [complete | explicit | 139.1k words]

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out. But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie. Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back. He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

Passive Aggressive Flirting by @starlingbite [complete | general audiences | 4.5k words]

Buck and Eddie have never met. They both work at the 118 but just on different shifts. That's all about to change when Buck finds a sticky note message, signed E.

String of hearts... by @reallysmartladymariecurie [complete | teen and up audiences | 11.1k words]

“Now. Eddie is this incredible presence. He’s funny and smoking hot, and he has a son who sounds wonderful. And he’s serious and vulnerable at times. But so enjoyable to be around, every single second that he’s there. And how can I put myself out there when the expectation is so high? When the thing I might lose is so beautiful?”

In which Buck owns a plant shop in LA, and Eddie becomes his new favorite customer. Pining ensues.

check out my post of buddie fics with dad!buck

#i will probably do a part two of this because i have more but this post its already way too big #buddie #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #fic rec #911 #911 fox #911 on fox #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #otp: you act like you're expendable but you're wrong #tv: 9-1-1 #*

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

Text

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

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peter-parker-recs · 3 years

Note

do ya have any good fics with peter and the defenders or just any daredad/daddevil fics? thanks in advance :)

You are officially the love of my life. I’m so excited about this you have no idea. I’m just gonna spam some of my favs here.

This is pretty much just nyc vigilante fluff, it has a super sweet relationship between Matt and Peter (seriously man the feels), and it has some funny fics, as well as some hurt/comfort and even if they’re all short they all end up being super sweet. It’s a series under the name How Nyc’s Vigilantes Found A New Family In Each Other

This one isn’t necessarily daredad but it does have Peter and Matt being adorable. Basically Peter and May get evicted after Ben’s death and find a place in Hell’s Kitchen that’s cheap because they can’t hold down a tenant because the next door neighbor apparently keeps weird hours, (spoiler this neighbor is Matty). It’s pretty much just Peter and May move in next to Matt when Peter is just starting out as Spider-man and their paths keep seeming to cross until Matt basically becomes his pseudo big brother. It’s called Losing A House (Finding A Home).

Aunt May dies and Peter’s guardianship gets left in the hands of his uncle, one matt murdock. This is really sweet and i love the devildad feels plus it’s fucking hilarious to see them interacting as DD and SM.

Spider-man meets Daredevil by chance, but DD sees something in him and offers to help teach him, however Mr. Stark doesn’t like the idea and forbids it (Peter doesn’t listen). This is hands down one of the best Marvel fics i’ve ever read, it has Spidey teaming up with a lot of New York’s vigilantes as well as tony and peter trying to figure out the whole mentor thing with an amazing plot attached to it. It’s a series under the name The Teenage Vigilante's Guide to Saving New York (And Making Friends Along the Way)

May dies and Peter has to go on the run from CPS, he’s spiraling he’s malnourished and injured and he’s going out as spidey all the time, and it finally comes to head when he almost dies while trying to bust a drug ring, luckily Daredevil was there to help. This was some amazingly written daredad and the way they describe what peter goes through is amazing, the relationship between him and mj and ned is heartbreaking and the one between him and tony is amazingly written and oh so angsty, it’s definitely one of my favorite fics and they had this amazing idea to have a Stan Lee cameo, but if you read it don’t read the last chapter because the second to last one leaves you on a happy ending and then the last one sets up a sequal that NEVER GOT WRITTEN. It’s called I Can’t Take This (All This Meaningless).

This one is a lot more Team Red oriented but it’s one of the most hilarious fics I’ve ever read. Basically, Peter hears that there’s aliens attacking New York and that Daredevils stuck in the middle of it while he’s in school and runs over to help fight out of suit. It’s got a whole lotta Team Red shenanigans and people being super worried for this absolutely crazy child trying to fight aliens while his friends just sit there and cheer him on. This is definitely one of my favorites Team Red fics and one of my go to comfort fics. It’s called Peter Skips School to Beat the Shit out of Aliens and Banter With His Friends

Seriously I have more of these if you want more, I have a problem. A lot of the others I have do tend to be more Team Red centered then these but I also have some more nyc vigilante fics. Happy reading!

Oh wait quick warning these are pretty much copy and pasted from my personal notes that I keep so I can differentiate between fics if I wanna re-read them (That list is like at least 100 something fics long at this point, but ig it is multiple fandoms so its fine, i’m perfectly mentally stable) and I might’ve missed some trigger warnings, I don’t put them in my own notes because of something triggers me I just won’t put it there.

#matt murdock #peter parker #foggy nelson #fluff #sunshine child peter parker #wholesome peter parker #vigilante peter parker #wade wilson #jessica jones #frank castle #tony stark #danny rand #may parker #claire temple #johnny storm #karen page #michelle jones #ned leeds

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forsakenmis · 3 years

Text

Calming her down

Title: Calming her down Pairing: top!Wanda Maximoff x female!reader Rating: 18+ Incredibly NSFW Warnings: Dark Wanda, kind of non-con, strap on, fingering, mummy kink, post-WV finale so spoilers if you haven’t seen it. also i haven’t editted it so beware grammar and spelling mistakes. Word count: 4215 words

It had taken far too long to track her down. Why they asked you to do it, you weren’t really sure. It’s not as if you and Wanda ever really talked, or even made eye contact, during the years as an avenger. Yet you were given the task of pulling her back onto the rails, rails she’s apparently veered pretty badly. You really think Doctor Strange, the Gandalf of wizards, would be a lot better at handling her than you would be. Or even Clint, the guy who was her mentor. But no-no one wanted to reach out to her, even though they spent years arguing that she needed to be supervised. You could go on for days how you being the person being sent is the most ridiculous idea they could have had.

You weren’t even a super, or an avenger, you started off as a shield agent who was then thrown into Stark Industries as Tony’s intern. Fury wanted an in and you were that in. Then everything went bottoms up and you became a slightly more valuable member of the group. Support, really.

After the snap, you just wanted a stable life. A normal life. By the time they contacted you to do this, you’d applied to a college. No, a university. In Australia, which was far, far away from New York. The briefing was simple. Wanda, left to her own devices in her time of need, went to try to handle her own grief after stealing Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. You were being asked to go try to talk some sense into her. Then, within the week of you repeatedly saying no, it turned out the head of S.W.O.R.D. was a bastard which you could have seen coming from a mile away, and Wanda was god knows where.

They promised you they’d leave you alone after this.

So you said yes.

What could go wrong?

You were still asking herself that three weeks later when you were sitting there still trying to find out where exactly she went. Wanda wasn’t going to be easy to find, especially considering she didn’t want to be found but you did it. It was four in the morning when you finally narrowed down a list of ten possible locations that she could be in. You were too tired to even crack a smile, you fell back onto your bed to sleep.

Your celebration was sleep for by the next morning, you were trekking across the world and came to the outskirts of a property with the view of the mountains. Pretty, sure, but you didn’t think Wanda was here for the view.

It was eerily quiet when you walked up to the door. That type of quiet they put into horror movies before they pulled out a jump scare. You didn’t trust it. Then again-not that there was anything around to make noise. Wanda could be asleep, as maybe all this isolation has meant she’s forsaken a body clock.

Still-you trusted it as much as you could lift Mjollnir and you couldn’t even make it shift.

The curtains were closed, you couldn’t see anything as you walked up the two steps and you had to stop your hand from hovering over your handgun. It would have been more of a self assurance. You couldn’t dream of winning against Wanda in a fight, both of you would be aware of that, but you couldn’t exactly imagine she’d be that trusting of you if you walked in holding a gun. So you fiddled with the watch around your wrist, it was a gift from Tony years ago.

You could have brought reinforcement, sure, but that seemed like a moot point considering you were trying to gain her trust, somewhat. The reinforcement would have been S.W.O-oh whatever, sword, you don’t have the time for formality. And sword made such a huge mess of it the first time round so you didn’t think they were going to help this time round. You tried calling Clint, but he was busy, apparently. Too busy to pick up your calls.

This was definitely a suicide mission.

You knocked three times with the back of your knuckles and listened, trying to hear any hint of movement.

Nothing.

You knocked again. Knock. Knock. Knock. Not even a creak.

Maybe she was asleep or maybe, dare you say it, had gotten it wrong. God, you’d hate for some old man to swing the door open.

Your hand dropped to the handle, going to test the lock, but then it swung open and if it wasn’t for your own instincts, you would have stumbled forward.

Wanda.

Your eyes slammed onto her face and, for the first time in years, you fumbled. She looked different, way too different for your liking, she looked older since Tony’s funeral. Mature. More confident in herself. You could think of a different million ways to describe her in that split second.

She’d always been pretty before but this Wanda was…gorgeous. This Wanda could also read minds.

You cut your thoughts short and took in a slight breath. Wanda wasn’t saying anything and her only acknowledgement was the slight hook of her brow.

“Wanda,” you began before forcing a smile onto yourself, “long time no see.”

“So they sent you, of all people,” Wanda remarked and you made a face. Sure-she was right but that was, quite frankly, rude.

“They suggested I come and I wanted to come,” you lied, “to see how you were doing...okay, look, I know we never talked. Or interacted. I know that. I was probably not the most open to you as I could have been.” Wanda was continuing to stare at you. She was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. A shirt that arguably was one size too small for her. You weren’t really sure what to say, if you were honest, you’d spent so much time trying to find her, tracking her down like a puzzle, that you forgot to plan for this interaction.

“But I like to think we were on good terms,” you continued. Worst thing she could do was close the door in your face and you were more than happy to camp outside. “Enough that you’ll hear me out. I heard about your book, the darkhold–” That’s when you got a reaction out of her. Her eyes narrowed, growing even colder, and you could see her grip tightening on the door. “–we need to talk. Please-just let me in. I’m not going to fight you. We both know I can’t do that.”

You were keeping your thoughts clear. You didn’t want her reading you.

After a second, Wanda swung the door open wider and let you in.

Your eyes scanned the room the moment you entered the threshold, looking for all the exits, before you turned back to Wanda. Wanda, who had closed the door, and had started walking towards you, close enough that you took a step back but found yourself hitting the back of a table.

Now that she was right up in your personal space, close enough that you could smell the soap she was using. Your heart was beating now.

“So you came for the book?” She asked, staring down at you. She was only a couple of inches taller than you but it may as well have been more.

“No, I came here to help you. And I know that book isn’t helping you, no matter how much you think it is. Wanda, that book is dangerous,” you said, gaining enough courage that you pushed yourself off the table to step forward, getting into Wanda’s space just as she was in yours.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Wanda remarked but she didn’t move. “You’re as bullheaded as you used to be, never knowing when a fight was too big for you. I remember all those times Nat and Steve had to throw themselves on the line because you’d done something reckless.” “That’s rich coming from you.” “I could protect myself,” Wanda snapped back. “So where are they? The rest of them. The people that said they were my family. Were you all that they had?”

You clenched your teeth. Don’t say the truth. “They wanted a woman’s touch with it,” you lied. “There isn’t that many of us who were close to you back then anymore.”

It was really only Nat and maybe Pepper who were close to Wanda. Both were a little preoccupied as of right now (for different reasons) to come knocking on Wanda’s door.

“A woman’s touch?” Wanda echoed, saying it in a way that made you clench your teeth. It was a raspy whisper. “And what, may I ask, would that entail?”

With the way she said it, you were pretty sure that Wanda wasn’t meaning it in the same way you were. Albeit, your meaning was rather off as well. In that you had no idea what that would entail either.

Wanda must have realised this and took a step back. “I suggest you leave,” she said and you hesitated before shaking your head.

“I won’t do that,” you said and she frowned. “They asked me to calm you down–”

“Calm me down?” She repeated, pronouncing each syllable, and it was as if the temperature dropped ten degrees. “Calm me down.” Then she smirked and it made you roll back on your heels.

“As long as you have that book, yes,” you said, “how about this–I take the book and then I go. You’ll think more rational without it, Maximoff, you know that. Deep down. You’re smart, Wanda, smarter than anyone ever gave you credit for. Besides Vision–”

“Don’t say his name,” Wanda snarled and suddenly she was in front of you again, hand around your throat, “do you understand me? He doesn’t exist here, not with you around.”

You didn’t really know what she meant but you ran with it and nodded. Her hand was tight and your airway was becoming a little too blocked for your liking.

She stared down at you, her eyes hard and cold, but then they softened and her grip loosened but they still didn’t leave your skin.

“You know, I might have pursued you back then, if it wasn’t for him,” Wanda began and you blinked. What? “You were everything I liked in a girl. Besides your recklessness….and stubbornness...but I think I can deal with that pretty easily.”

“Wanda, I’m flattered, really, but how about we focus,” you said, carefully, deciding to take that with a grain of salt and then over analyse it at three in the morning. Like how could you be cock blocked by a bloody robot? “Just give me the book and I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll make sure no one comes looking for you–” “You can’t promise me that,” Wanda remarked before she dropped her hand to take a step back. Then she looked you up and down. “You said they wanted you to calm me down, right? How about I keep both you and the book.”

You would like to say you were able to fight back. Prevent Wanda from knocking you out. But you were gone by the time she finished her sentence.

----

When light streamed into your eyes, the first thing you registered was the soft pillow underneath your head. Then you felt the rest of the bed and your eyes sprung open.

Your legs were bent up and out, Wanda’s red mist wrapped around your ankles and knees to keep them up. Meanwhile, your wrists were stuck to the headboard. Then your eyes rested on….Wanda?

Transparent Wanda reading that bloody book. You swear to god-you’ll burn that book the moment you get your hands–

“You’ll do no such thing,” Wanda’s voice cut through your apparently rather loud thoughts. You turned your head, trying to find her, and there she was in the doorway, sipping a cup of tea, watching you. Then she kicked off it and moved into the room and slid the mug onto a table before coming to the bed. “Maybe I’ll let you hold it one day as I read it.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand, Wanda, let me go,” you whispered as you began to struggle, pulling on the restraints again and again, but they weren’t budging. Neither was Wanda.

“I don’t think I want to,” Wanda hummed as she pushed herself onto the bed, “you see, I lost everything. My brother, Vision, Nat, Steve, my two boys, then Vision again. I lose every single family I ever have. Maybe this time I’ll succeed. I’m trying to find them, you see, with the book. Find them and pull them out. We can live here, happy, away from everyone.”

“We’ve done this story before Wanda, it didn’t–” “This time will be different, I’ll be more powerful, I won’t mess up this time,” Wanda pressed as her hands went to your inner thighs, moving them up and down your clothed skin. “And, when it comes to you, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. I don’t think I’ll let them see you. No, you can be my little secret. I stared at you for too many years, let you whore yourself out to other people. Not anymore.”

You drew your brows together. This couldn’t be happening.

“As you said, you’re meant to calm me down, right? Meant to pull me off some edge because everyone else was just too busy,” Wanda said as she positioned herself between your legs, bending down to kiss your jawline. You throbbed and pulled on the red strands wrapped around your wrist, but to no avail. “But I can think of another edge you can get close to,” she whispered as she pulled away again.

“Wanda, what are you–”

Her fingers slid in between your thighs, pressing into your heat, and a sharp gasp left your mouth. She began to rub through your jeans, cupping your heat, and you tugged again. This time, the red scratched the watch around your wrist and suddenly your clothes had snapped into the red armour Tony had built you years ago. Protective armour that replaced whatever you were wearing in a nick of time.

Useful.

The shift was enough to push Wanda off you and she stared down at the red and black armour with a slight tilt of her head.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” She asked as her hands trailed down the cool metal. “Neat trick. Tony’s design, right?”

“Of course,” you responded after a moment, your chest rising up and down. There was no point in denying it-it was obviously Tony’s. Right down to the colours.

Wanda’s eyes turned red as the red mist circled around her hand as she lowered it back down. You flinched when you felt it slink in between the small crevices. The suit was meant to be protected against outside substances, able to go into water, but you supposed Tony didn’t exactly build it against Wanda.

“Wanda, you don’t–” “If you don’t be quiet, I’ll make you, do you understand me?” She hissed as she bucked her hand backwards and the suit around your hips ripped off you and tossed across the room. You whined as the cold air hit your bare skin, contrasting the building heat in between your legs.

You were left with nothing but the top half and the pants that wrapped around your thigh. “Much better.”

With that, she went back to what she was doing before but this time there was nothing to prevent her from slipping her fingers through your slick folds, the tips of her nails teasing your entrance.

“Look at you, already so wet,” she cooed and you gritted your teeth. This really couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. She could control reality, this was just a dream. “This isn’t me in your head, sweetheart, trust me–I would have cut the foreplay if I was creating this.”

She continued to massage your heat and it took you everything you had not to moan.

“Why are you…” you tried saying but you were cut short, once again, when her fingers found your hooded clit, using the tips of her nails to start playing with it. You bucked your hips instinctively and she chuckled.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Wanda asked and the building heat was beginning to become a little too much. “So how about this, sweetheart, you help mummy out by becoming mummy’s little stress reliever.”

Two fingers suddenly plunged into your entrance and your back arched. At least your clit got a little bit of a break but it wasn’t long until her palm began to grind against it as she thrusted the fingers into your tight entrance. Each thrust expanded your walls, letting her in even deeper, your own arousal making her movements slick and quick.

“Wand-” you began to moan but it morphed into a sharp yelp when she pulled her fingers out to slap your cunt.

“You’re a smart girl, sweetheart, it’s how you got around Tony for so long. I think you know exactly what you want to be calling me,” she said and suddenly she was back down so that her face was only inches away from yours and her fingers slid back inside of you.

Unlike last time, though, it wasn’t rough and sharp. Her fingers were slow as they moved inside of you, curling at the tips, scratching your walls. Exploring. She was exploring you and you could do nothing but whimper and moan.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you would. Look at you, already so wet and submissive for me,” she whispered, scattering kisses down your jawline as she reached your ear to nibble on your earlobe. “I’ll keep you in here for as long as I need you. Ride your pretty little mouth as I read that book, fill you up again and again until you’re passing out. All you have to do is be a good little girl.”

Heat was curling through your body, that buzzing sort of heat, that made your vision blur. Your teeth were clamped together. You wanted to moan, they were in your throat, but even when you opened your mouth, no sound came out. Just silent moans. The fingers moving inside of you had grabbed all your attention.

Then she scratched that little sweet spot and it was that that pushed out a moan that bounced around the room. Wanda laughed, hitting it again and again.

“Let your mummy hear your moans, sweetheart,” she said before she pulled back to kiss you on the mouth, biting hard on your lip so you wouldn’t even try to close your mouth and stop the tongue that slid into your mouth.

Your stomach was twisting into knots at this point and seemed like every other muscle seemed to be cramping. You were close to climax. Your walls clenched around Wanda’s fingers. Just a little bit–

You groaned when she peeled herself off you. You blinked up at her, looking through what seemed like tears, as you were denied that relief. Relief from the throbbing coming from your cunt.

“You want to cum, baby?” Wanda asked as she pulled off her shirt. Underneath was a simple black bra that was quickly disposed of. Your eyes, naturally, landed on her chest. A chest that, even under the circumstances, made you drool. Wanda’s clicking your fingers drew your eyes back up. “Eyes on mummy, sweetheart. God, you really are a little whore, aren’t you? Tell me-do you want to cum?” You pulled on your restraints just once more but all it seemed to do was to make it even tighter.

You nodded, jerkily.

“Use your words, sweetheart, I very clearly established you’re not mute,” Wanda remarked as her fingers went down to her jeans, fiddling with her button.

“Yes. Please, I want to,” you mumbled, knowing you won’t be coming back from this point. Then again-if she could make you feel like that again...maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Wanda tilted her head as she hummed, not having to move much to slap your sore cunt again and you jerked. “Say it politely and maybe I’ll consider it.” You scrunch your eyes shut and mewled when she began to knead your pulsating clit again. “M-mummy, please,” you whispered and her hands left your cunt. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt her lips on yours. Soft, gentle...loving.

“Good girl...that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She asked and you could hear the ruffling of her pants as she kicked them off. “Now...mummy’s going into your head, okay? I promise it won’t be long.” You began to struggle again but the warmth of her powers quickly washed over you. Your memories began playing the past three months. You tracking her down. Refusing back up.

Then she was out again.

“You really told no one where you were going? Almost as if you wanted this to happen,” She said as she shifted on top of you. Shifted that you felt something rub up against your entrance and you flinched. She...she was packing. “Of course I am, sweetheart, do you really think I wasn’t prepared for you? I knew you were coming from a mile away, honey.”

And with that, she pushed the strap inside of you, not bothering to wait for you to adjust until she was completely inside of you. You arched your back again, pressing into Wanda’s naked body, as the pain of being ripped open rushed through your body. You moaned and grunted as you grew adjusted to the width and length of Wanda.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Wanda murmured into your lips and suddenly your wrists were freed. But then her own hands came up to wrap around them to press them against the pillows herself. “I know you’ve taken bigger. Do you think we didn’t know? Didn’t know you and Nat were fucking every other night?” The comment drew you out, just for a moment, and you shook your head but all she did was pull back slightly to slam inside of you again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Wanda snarled, “tell me, tell me the truth. Use your words.”

It took only a few more thrusts of her strap filling you up again and again that the words began to spill out of your lips. “S-she found out. About my status as a shield status. Fuck,” you hissed out, barely able to hear your own words over the lude noises of Wanda beginning to pound into you. This wasn’t fair-you couldn’t dream of talking when she was fucking you like this.

“So you whored yourself out to her to make sure she kept her mouth shut,” Wanda said, finishing the sentence and you nodded jerkily. “You little slut. I bet you liked it too, just like how you like me pounding into you. But you’re mine now. Not hers. Not Tony’s. Mine. My little whore.”

She shifted upwards so that her chest was dangling above your face. “Suck your mommy's tit, baby, I saw you admire them before.”

It was a welcome change, you had to admit, to trying to formulate sentences and words around the moans and screams spilling out of your mouth. Your head leaned forward, closing the distance, so your mouth could wrap around her erect nipple and your walls clenched around her strap as you heard her moan.

Her hand moved to the top of your head, her nails scraping against your scalp as she interwove her fingers through your messy hair. Your tongue lapped at the small bud between your teeth and she began to move her hips in time with your tongue.

Your now free hand wrapped around her body so your nails were digging into her shoulder, drawing Wanda down even closer so you could take more of her tit into her mouth.

The same heat that had built before was coming back, and you weren’t sure how long you could hold on at this point.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby, just this once,” Wanda purred, hearing your thoughts, and it was all you needed, that confirmation, to come undone. Your walls clenched around the strap and you could feel Wanda slowing down as thrusting became just a tad more difficult and you screamed into her tits, careful not to clamp your jaw shut, as the orgasm rushed through you.

Even through it, she continued moving inside of you, and you almost felt like you could pass out.

“Good girl,” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I could get used to this. I’m going to keep you in here, do you hear me? Make you a good little whore for me to come home to.” They did say your mission was to help Wanda calm down.

#wanda x reader #smut #wanda maximoff smut #dark!wanda maximoff #top!wanda #dark wanda maximoff x reader #misfitwrites #wanda maximoff x you

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

Text

Angel with a Shotgun

here we go. this popped into my head after i watched a tiktok about angel shots. if you go on a date and don't feel safe for any reason, please please please find a safe way to remove yourself!! asking for an angel shot is a great way to do that!!

WARNING: tw mentions of implied SA, stalking, harassment, police, EMT's, hospitals, alcohol, being drugged, swearing,

please don't read this if any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable. i don't get graphic with anything but still, put yourself first and be safe!! i love you <3

wordcount: 1907

Harry Styles x Reader

masterlist

It started off as a normal night. Y/n had met this guy in class and he’d asked her out for drinks. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, none of her friends had heard anything bad about him, so she deemed him a suitable guy to go have a fun night with.

She’d met him at a bar just off campus and was having a really great night! The pair were dancing and talking and laughing, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time in a long time on a first date.

In Y/n’s experience, usually guys were creeps and girls never decided she was what they were looking for, so she had a hard time in the dating world. This guy, Jack his name is, seemed ok. Keyword being seemed.

She should have known. When he asked to meet her at a bar all the way across town, she should have put it together that he wasn’t what she was looking for. He didn’t put up too big of a fight when she insisted they meet at the bar closer to campus, that way she would know people there and be in a familiar place if she needed to get away from him quickly.

When he started making comments that were off putting to her, things she doesn’t really want to repeat in fear of actually vomiting all over the table, she starts looking for a way out. He keeps trying to play footsie with her under the table and is getting visibly frustrated at her lack of participation, so she tells him she’s going to get them another round of drinks after finishing the one that was already on the table and quickly exits the booth before he can protest.

Harry had been watching from across the room at the bar, seeing this couple who looked like they were on a first date. He watched as they laughed and talked, getting to know each other. But as the night went on, it seemed the woman was getting more and more uncomfortable.

He had told his coworkers to keep an eye out for the two in case anything was to go down, and when he sees her get up and make her way over to his bar, he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“What can I get for you, love?” He asks her, leaning over the counter to hear her better. She sniffles a little, and takes a deep breath. Leans in before timidly asking.

“Can I get an angel shot?”

Harry’s senses are quickly kicked into gear and he nods, gesturing to his coworker that he’s gonna get this taken care of before meeting her on the other side of the bar. What neither of them had realized was that 1. Jack was walking up to them and 2. he had slipped something into her drink apparently because suddenly she could barely hold her own body weight. Harry caught her before she hit the ground and Jack rushed over, playing the part of concerned boyfriend but the bartender saw right through it.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to back up.” He tells the man, authority very present in his voice. Jack doesn’t take well to this, eyebrows furrowing and voice lowering in defense.

“S’cuse me mate, but I’m gonna take my girl home. She’s had a few too many, f’you know what I mean.” He chuckles and goes to scoop her up. Harry stops him, putting a hand on the guy's chest, stepping between the girl and this guy.

“You'll do no such thing. This girl has obviously been roofied and it’s you she was running away from. The only thing you’ll be doing tonight is talking to the police, who are making their way in right now to do with you what they will.” Harry says, watching the color drain from this bloke's face. He turned around, ready to make a full run for it but was stopped by not only the police but also a crowd of other guys who heard what was going down and were ready to step in if assistance was needed.

“I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was trying to take advantage of me!” He cries as he’s put in handcuffs and taken away.

“Yeah, it’s obvious the one who’s passed out cold because she was drugged was trying to take advantage of you.” Harry yells after him before turning around and scooping the girl into his arms. Due to the commotion and the presence of not only police but also paramedics, the premises was cleared and the bar was shut down for the night. Harry held the passed out girl close to his body, having had his coworker fetch his jacket from the break room to keep her warm now that the club wasn’t filled with body heat, and waited for the paramedics to come in for her.

When they come in and place her on the gurney, she starts to stir. Little whines and groans escape from her and the EMT’s check her vitals, deeming her stable and letting Harry know she’s going to be ok. He decided to follow to the hospital just so she has a familiar face when she wakes up and has someone to explain her situation that isn’t a scary doctor.

. *

It’s a few hours of unrestful sleep at her bedside and his co-worker showing up with a change of clothes for him when she finally starts to come to.

Groaning and reaching up to hold her head but realizing her arms are too heavy to move, she rasps out, “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Harry explains, wanting to reach out and hold her hand but not wanting to startle her, “You’re ok but the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation.”

“You’re the bartender I asked for the angel shot aren’t you?” She questions after a pregnant pause. He hums a confirmation and she looks over his face a few times, before tears well in her eyes.

“What happened?” A few tears fall from her eyes. She can’t remember much after leaving the table, just the sight of green eyes and curly brown hair nodding at her when she asked for the shot. The rest is pretty much a blur, just random flashes of scenes she can’t quite make out in her head.

“You came over and asked me for the shot and then a few minutes later you passed out. The bloke you were with slipped something in your drink. And unless something happened at the table that I didn’t see, then nothing else happened. Do you remember anything happening at the table?” He explains, hoping her answer is no.

He’d learned her name from the EMT’s who checked your ID once you were loaded into the ambulance but he didn’t know the name of the man she was with. He realizes she doesn’t know his name either.

“No, was just being a sleazy dick. I don’t know how he could have slipped me something, I didn’t get up before I went to you. Must’ve turned my head for a bit too long. God, I should’ve known this was gonna happen!” She groans but he shakes his head.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, darling! He’s a sleazeball, a no good lowlife. S’not your fault.”

“What’s your name?” She voices, peering into his pretty green eyes.

“M’Harry,” he smiles, timidly reaching for her hand, rubbing his thumb soothingly across the soft skin.

“Thank you for staying with me Harry! For helping me…” Y/n says quietly. He shakes his head with a small smile.

“No need to thank me, pet. Would do it over and over again.”

Her smile, while tired and defeated, was enough to show him her gratitude. She feels a weight lift off her chest, hearing that nothing bad happened after she got to him.

She knows it’s probably just nightingale syndrome, but Y/n thinks Harry is terribly adorable. With his messy brown curls and tired green eyes that make it look like he hasn’t slept in ages. She thinks she could see herself going out with him, which is an odd thought considering what happened last night. You’d think that would be enough to turn her off to men for good, but there's just something about him. But now isn’t the time to bring any of that up.

“I’ll call a nurse, tell em’ you’re awake.” He voiced, making his way to the door after gently placing her hand back on the bed.

. * .

“Ms. I’m just calling to let you know the restraining order has gone through. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Y/n felt a weight lift off her chest. After months of being harassed and stalked, she would finally be left alone. Harry leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, stroking the loose hair out of her face.

“S’ finally over, lovie. It’s all over!.” He whispered in her ear, pulling her closer to him, rubbing up and down her thighs. She felt tears spring to her eyes, tears of relief, tears of joy, but also tears of sadness because the last few months had been some of the hardest of her life. She was ready to move on and be done with this nightmare.

When Jack had found out Y/n and Harry got together after that night, it’s like it activated something inside him. Like he thought she was just playing hard to get and he had to literally stalk her to get her attention. He seemed to think she was playing a game. Somewhere in his twisted little mind he had the audacity to think she actually wanted him.

He’d sit right next to her every single class period and would get up and move next to her when she tried to get away with him. He’d show up at her house, sitting across the street just watching her front door, he’d call her phone and text her, he’d wait outside her other classes and follow her around campus. She complained to her university, told them what was going on and they didn’t really do anything. She went to campus security and they brushed it off because “She wasn’t in any danger. He just wants to get to know you.”

So she finally was forced to file a restraining order. Her case was still open, from when he got arrested that night at the bar. They're charging him with second degree assault and criminal harassment because apparently she’s not the only girl he’s done this to. Many other women had spoken up since news of that night had spread around campus. Yet still, the university did nothing.

Harry stood by you every step of the way, picking up the shattered pieces on hard days. He wanted to beat the shit out of this guy and he would if it wouldn’t interfere with the case. He knew you needed him and he didn’t want to chance anything.

There was a pregnant silence between the two lovers. Just letting the silence wash over them, letting themselves breath freely without this weight suffocating them, they basked in it.

It wasn’t completely over, because there was still a trial, but he wouldn’t be coming around without getting arrested again.

That was enough for Y/n to breathe easy.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #x reader #harry x reader #bartender!harry #bartender!harry styles x reader #bartneder!harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #bartender!harry styles #tw sa #one direction #fan fiction #one shot #angel shot

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westmoor · 3 years

Text

Oxenfurt isn’t all that different in winter, Geralt notes. Apart from the odd storm tearing along the coastline past midwinter, the weather is mostly agreeable. And although most of social life has moved indoors - public debates and forums picking up in concert halls and libraries - it still feels like standing in an anthill, teeming with life in apparent chaos until one learns to recognize the rigid structures upholding it.

The first day is mostly lost to sleeping. It can’t be helped.

They’d debated renting him his own quarters, but only briefly - it would’ve been a waste of money when Jaskier’s were unoccupied for most of the day. He couldn’t deny the safety of it, either. Perched above the streets of a city that never seemed to get a wink of sleep, being surrounded by the comforts and belongings of a man he knew so well they might’ve been his own, the timber floors feel solid beneath his feet. Just like the solid warmth of a body, weighing into the bed next to him.

And so, swaddled in the scent of his bard and a fresh mattress under his back, a wood stove keeping the adjoined office-and-bedrooms mellow and warm, sleep pulls him under at its leisure.

He expects to be teased for it when Jaskier makes it back in the late afternoon. Instead, all he gets is a bright smile, a bump of shoulders, and the promise of a proper supper.

The second is idle.

He sees that Roach is content, well-fed and dry in her open stall on the university grounds. Considers bringing her tack back to clean, but there’s no rush.

His nerves grow dull to the constant noise and bustle of the town, between the safe retreats of the stables and the professor’s quarters. He skims through some of Jaskier’s reading, sidetracked by scribbles in margins and their continuations on paper scraps stuck between pages.

Respite, he calls it. Solace, shelter. It needs no definite name. He finds it in the dead of night, tucked into the hollow between Jaskier’s shoulder blades.

The third day, he sits in on a lecture.

He knows, of course, that Jaskier can hold a room. Has seen him do it, knew him when he learned it, to wake the entire audience already in the first verse and have them eating out of his hand by the third.

He built a career on it. Really, it’s a marvel to watch.

This is different.

The confidence is there, certainly. So is the way he moves about the room, talking with his hands each moment they’re not otherwise occupied. The charm, too - but not the bluster. No clever turns half drowned by empty drivel but real substance, knowledge and proficiency born from hard-earned experience, set against the framework theory and thesis.

He enjoys the subject matter too, and yet again he finds himself surprised, listening intently as the professor peels back rules of rhyme and verse to reveal the broader commentary within. Geralt catches Jaskier’s eye as the latter riles his audience, singing a Mahakam working song to the tune of a Skellige shanty, and he grins.

They dine late that night, huddled close to a small table in the office-tuned-sitting room. Geralt starts with a counterpoint to the day’s lecture, and their conversation wanders on from there,

Geralt doesn’t even blame the wine when his thumb comes to skim across the ridge of Jaskier’s knuckles, rough and gentle and familiar, and he thinks, I’m fucked.

But the hand in his doesn’t budge. And when he musters the courage to look up at the face watching him above the rim of crystal glass, the hopeful smile there, he finds that maybe… Maybe this time, he’s not.

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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Another totally unprompted ask, on the assumption that you are definitely no longer in need of them… another thing I’m trying to work out about Loki characterisation in preparation for perpetrating fic torture on him is how suicidal the poor sod is most of the time. This is another thing I’ve seen referred to a lot but only in passing. Though obviously this is a pretty triggery topic, so ignore if you want.

I am always in need of totally unprompted asks, otherwise I just assume no one wants to talk to me lmao

So, hoo boy. I have been mulling over this for, apparently, three days now bc there's just ... there's a lot to unpack here. Putting under a cut for obviously triggery content and also for length bc fml.

In my opinion, the response to "how suicidal is Loki most of the time" is "very, but whether or not he wants to do anything about it varies from moment to moment" (see what I did there? I'll see myself out). In other words, I have always had a headcanon that Loki is consistently, passively suicidal. This is a headcanon that comes straight from TDW, bc I'm certain that Loki never had any intention of surviving their mission. And that could be a whole other post, really, but the point is that even though this is a TDW-centric headcanon, I have come to adopt it as applying to Loki in general as well, not just in those specific circumstances.

When I say passively suicidal, I mean that Loki is just sort of ambivalent about the value of his own life. He feels like he doesn't deserve to be alive, and feels like there's little point in being alive. Which - I don't mean to sound all gloom and doom, like, poor uwu emo Loki (and I kinda hate that I have to pause to disclaim that, no, I don't just have a fixation on Loki being depressed for funsies/the aesthetic/whatever); I think that this mindset stems from really complicated places that I'm not sure I can articulate, but I will try.

I view Loki as someone who suffers from a severe inferiority complex, and I feel like it stems from being abandoned as an infant. Loki's life started with a traumatic event and, even if he doesn't remember the event itself, the feelings he experienced stayed in his subconscious. Feelings of loss, of fear, of despair and abandonment, of suffering - these are all feelings that burrowed into his bones and lived there for his entire life, feelings that colored how Loki viewed himself as a person as well as how he compared to the people around him.

Keep in mind that Loki didn't know he was abandoned until the events of Thor 1, obviously. We don't really know how old Loki is, in human years, but I have always assumed that he and Thor were at least adults (not teenagers), maybe the equivalent of early twenties - and the reason I bring that up is because it means Loki made it all the way to adulthood carrying the weight of a trauma that he did not remember or even knew had happened, so to him, there was no real reason for how wrong he felt. There was no explanation for the feelings of loss, of neglect, of fear. So on top of struggling with those feelings, Loki was also burdened with the alienation that comes with wondering why one can't just be like everyone else, why one can't just "snap out" of depression, why one's sense of self-worth has always been lacking.

So imagine what it's like to grow up as Loki. He was traumatized as an infant. The trauma has been with him his entire life, along with the confusion/alienation of not understanding why he feels the way that he does, and then on top of that, his basic personality lends itself toward introspection and isolation, so he likely felt even further removed from Thor and from his peers. Loki's too smart for his own good, and he's got an enormous capacity to feel and I feel like this is a combination that works against him as much as it does for him, bc it probably means he spent a lot of time examining himself and identifying all of his perceived flaws - and then berating himself for said flaws.

People with depression are probably pretty familiar with the bully that lives in your head, the one who is always there to remind you that you're stupid, or ugly, or that nobody likes you, or that you have nothing of value to contribute to anyone, etc. Loki's no different; he's got that bully in his head, too. Add onto this the fact that his brother is literally perfect, that he feels his father doesn't love him (or love him as much), that his interests in things like magic are looked down on in his culture, and that he's a prince (meaning that along with the privilege comes pressure, and being in the public eye, knowing that everyone around him is comparing him to Thor as much as he compares himself to Thor, well.) and you have a total clusterfuck of a mindset, and Loki's been existing inside of that clusterfuck for nearly all of his life.

I always go back to the quote where, when filming I think the vault scene, Kenneth Branagh directs Tom by saying, "This is the moment where the thin steel rod holding your brain together snaps." And it's such a significant moment for Loki bc this is where it all crumbles for him, learning the truth, but I also fixate on the "thin steel rod" part of the quote bc that's not how one would describe a healthy, stable person's mind. The implication, to me, has always been that Loki wasn't that stable to start with due to his general upbringing, his internal struggles, and his personality, so of course the devastation of learning he's adopted, and Jotun, would send him over the edge. One doesn't go from zero to 60; one doesn't fall over the edge unless they were balancing fairly close to it in the first place. And to me, the "thin steel rod" basically equals the aforementioned clusterfuck of a mindset.

THE POINT IS. (Holy shit, I ramble.) This is the foundation on which I'm basing my headcanon that Loki neither values his life nor feels as if he even deserves to live it - bc his default mindset is one of inferiority, of loss, of pain. And I think that going from being a general unstable person pre-canon to being passively suicidal post-canon is a thing that happened because, somewhere between the vault in Thor 1 and the dungeons in TDW, Loki just stopped caring.

Life is exhausting for everyone, but even moreso when your mental load becomes more than you can carry. Loki is exhausted. His experience is that things just keep getting worse and worse for him - he's never been valued, he's always been found wanting. He discovers that he was literally thrown away as an infant, unwanted and left to die, and things haven't gotten much better for him since then. Everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. His plans spin out of control. He's unable to prove his worth and his value and when he is, in fact, rejected, he literally tries to kill himself (only to survive and end up in an even worse situation).

It all just continually goes downhill, and Loki is fucking exhausted. He's done. He has no hope that anything is ever going to change - he will never be valued or even seen, he's unable to connect to anyone, he has no family (aside from Thor, but their relationship is so fraught with pain). As far as he's concerned, his life has been nothing but a waste since he was born and if no one else values it, why should he?

So - passively suicidal. He places no value on his life, and doesn't shy away from situations that could cost him his life. It's possible that the only reason he's not actively suicidal is bc his previous attempt not only failed but led to such a horrible situation that he's probably too afraid to intentionally seek out death again. He doesn't want to fail and end up worse off for it.

And - not that you asked this in particular, but - my biggest disappointment in the series is that none of what I've just written is addressed in a satisfying way (to me). That is, we don't get any real explicit acknowledgement of the trauma of Loki's abandonment as a baby or how that affected his mental health growing up; we don't get to explore how devastated he was to learn of his adoption; we don't ever see him reconcile his ingrained belief that jotuns are monstrous savages with the fact that he is jotun. He says "I betrayed everyone I loved, but I'm different now" and we're supposed to infer what he means without Loki actually articulating why he feels that he's the only one who should be held responsible for all these things that had happened or what "I've changed" even means to him (aside from not betraying Sylvie).

I would have liked to see these things addressed for a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is that I would want to see how Loki comes to terms with all of his issues and his pain enough that he stops being passively suicidal. We never get to see that; after TDW, the time that passes allows for Loki to kinda chill, resulting in the Ragnarok version, but if there was any real healing or recovering going on, it was happening off-screen, with the audience expected to just go with "yeah Loki was going through it for awhile but he's kinda better now."

Furthermore, much of what I've written here is based on prime Loki's development through TDW, but doesn't account for series Loki's split from that timeline nor the theme of "Lokis survive" that's so prevalent in the series. So I don't think the "passively suicidal" headcanon is really appropriate for series Loki but, at the same time, I'd like to have seen why. I'd like to have seen Loki learning to value his life, or where the "we survive" mindset comes from, since that's not really been a thing before now. (Out of universe, I suspect it comes from the context of Loki just not dying whenever he tries to, but since TDW and IW haven't happened, and Loki didn't intend to survive his fall from the bifrost, framing Loki as an innate survivor doesn't really make sense, but to be fair, I'm just being picky.)

So, yeah. I'm not saying Loki doesn't experience growth or development in the series, I'm just saying that his arc left much unsaid and, furthermore, framing his growth as "wanting a throne to not wanting a throne" without addressing that Loki doesn't actually want the power of the throne, he wants the value and self-worth he associates with the throne, is - well, again, unsatisfying. Not bad, but it leaves viewers like me wanting bc we're cognizant of how much more could have been done.

I ... am going to end this now. This is probably nonsensical and all over the place, so I'm very sorry, and I'm sure this is why I don't get meta-starter asks lmfao bc no one's out here trying to read my dissertation submission for a Ph.D in Loki, but well, sometimes it just be like that.

Thank you for the ask and the opportunity to ramble.

#asks #charlotte replies #loki pokey artichokey #loki series #loki series criticism #loki meta #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide attempt #tw suicide #tw mental health #tw depression #i spent two fucking hours on this yet i still feel like it's rambly nonsense #i hit stream-of-consciousness at some point and just went with it #and now i'm too lazy to revise #so i'm sorry #this'll probably only get like 10 notes anyway bc that's how it be on tumblr #put effort in and get little validation; put no effort in and everyone loses their minds

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