#everyone likes different stuff but you’re fucking weird to bash it when you don’t like it
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‘I will never believe James leaves Lily for Regulus’
okay? Cool? Do you want a medal my guy?
I’m not going around saying I don’t think James and Lily don’t work because I don’t like their ship as much as jeggy, so why are you doing that? For points? To seem edgy? You dont, you look weird. Why do people think this is a valid thing to say lmao cool, you have a favourite ship, READ CONTENT OF THAT SHIP WITHOUT BASHING ANOTHER YOU WEIRDO
saying shit like ‘I refuse to read this big fic and this big fic because I know I’ll love them’ but then saying ‘I’m not as sick for regulus as SOME marauders fans are’ is so strange to me, are you that bored honey?
#this is legit from a tiktok I just saw#was gonna post a screenshot but I don’t wanna start beef with a stranger over petty bullshit lmao#everyone likes different stuff but you’re fucking weird to bash it when you don’t like it#just move on#the marauders#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#lily evans#jily
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Brb gonna go bash my head into the wall :3
Silly lil vent below the line
I literally *only* asked that if theres a problem someone has with me that it gets communicated with me. Obviously im gonna be sad if you dont wanna be friends but ultimately I just want people to be comfortable and feel safe. Everyone has the right to tailor their own spaces to their comforts. Literally all I asked from the people that I was friends with is that they just inform me if I am no longer wanted in those spaces. Which I think is fair. It leaves nothing up in the air and prevents me from entering those spaces thinking that its ok and hurting someone emotionally or mentally.
But for WHATEVER FUCKING REASON people just arent fucking capable of that :3 I “burned bridges” because I blocked you (literally only on tumblr because you didnt want to be friends over KINKS that you wouldnt have even KNOWN THAT I HAVE if you didnt STALK THE GUY I LIKE so I could feel comfortable in MY fucking space where I didnt feel fully comfortable when we were cool because I knew you would judge me on some of my stuff which is why I NEVER talked to you about it). You were “leaving doors open in case I wamted to talk to you” even though you left shared group chats and unadded me everywhere which made it very clear you did not want me in your life and you would have been pissed if I reached out to you because you nonverbally set that boundary. And then its my fault for showing our mutual friend all of the stuff you “vented” about him because you have OPENLY SAID YOU ARE USING HIM and SHIT TALK him fucking constantly. Literally the only time I even really talk about you anymore is if its brought up with him or if im venting here in my safe space. I will literally aboid soaces I know you are currently in because I know I make you uncomfortable and Im being respectful of that.
I don’t understand why the fuck you feel the need to tell our friend when he goes to see you, while were hanging out btw which leaves me alone, to call me a bitch. Thats so incredibly immature. First of all, if youre going to say something behind someones back you better be willing to have them hear about it and deal with the consequences. Its not my fault that he got mad that you constantly called him stupid and talked about wanting to kill him and oh yeah USED HIS CREDIT CADD WITHOUT PERMISSION. Youre a fucking adult you can out up with the consequences with your fucking actions. I mever let him see anything that was not exclusively about him and I showed him because he asked to see what was said about him after learning that you USED HIS FUCKING CREDIT CARD AND SAID THAT YOU WEEE USING HIM.
If that makes me a bitch Im damn well fine with that but theres no reason to not be civil especially because he talks to both of us and its not fucking ok to shove him in the middle of anything. Grow the fuck up. And if you see this please please please go asay. This should be getting thrown into the void akd never reach you. I blocked both your tumblr accounts. If you made a new one to stalk me thats weird as fucking hell. Especially because my kinks don’t involve you. We arent fucking. And if we did, I WOULD NOT ASK YOU TO PARTICIPATE IN KINKS YOU WERE NOT CONSENTING TO BECAUSE I FUCKING CARE ABOUT CONSENT. And if youre going to go “well i dodnt consent to my messages getting shown to him” thats a completely different fucking tjing and if you dont like it maybe dont constantly talk about wanting fo kill your friends. If you need to vent about your friends constantly then maybe they just arent your people and you should stop hanging out with them.
Literally all I wamted was for you to communicate your boundaries and all I want now is for you to not be a fucking dick. If you’re going to be an adult them that shouldnt be difficult. If you cant do that then stop treating everyone around you like a fucking child because youre not any better.
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not the same. (m)
pairing: dom!renjun x sub!reader
words: 2k+
summary: you haven’t seen renjun in years, and you can’t deny your crush on him hasn’t gone away.
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: multiple orgasms, creampie, choking, degradation
This isn’t weird. You’re hanging out with Renjun for the night just like you used to.
He’s also incredibly hot now, but that’s a different story.
The door swings open and you put on your best smile. Renjun grins back and envelops you in a hug, and you try your best to ignore the warmth pooling at your core.
��Hey, I missed you!”
You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist. “I missed you too, Renjun.”
He ushers you inside and notes that the rest of the boys are gone for the night, so it would just be you two. All alone. For hours.
You can do this.
“I made dinner, I’m hoping you still like that stuff we used to eat in school,” he chuckles, hovering over the stove while you take a seat at the dining table.
“It sounds great,” you beam. “Thank you.”
You cough awkwardly. You don’t really know what to say — you haven’t seen Renjun in a few years. The both of you were practically joined at the hip since birth, but you’ve grown a lot after he left, and so has he. You still kept in touch with his career and his surmounting success, but FaceTime calls aren’t the same as being together in real life.
“Do you still dance?” He questions, stirring whatever contents he was brewing. “I remember how good you used to be.”
You chuckle. “From time to time, but not as much as before. I can obviously tell you’re still dancing. Donghyuck mentioned you’ve been working out a lot lately too.”
He rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I work out, but nothing changes.”
I beg to differ. You cough again.
“When did you start talking to Donghyuck again anyways?” He asks. You think you hear a hint of jealousy in his voice, but you shake the thought off before it grows.
“You know him, he’s always bugging me when he gets bored. He was also trying to find something to blackmail you with.”
He laughs, and you forgot how that sound used to make you feel. You shove down the butterflies blooming in your chest. Your crush on Renjun really never went away, especially after he rose to stardom and kept in contact with you. His parents still call you their daughter-in-law, which doesn’t help your attempts to let the crush subside at all.
You eat dinner in silence, and it isn’t comfortable silence either. It’s after a few minutes pass when Renjun grows upset and throws down his chopsticks.
“What’s wrong with us? We were never awkward like this before.”
You blink, avoiding his gaze. “Um, well, we haven’t seen each other in a long while.”
“But we talk all the time,” he frowns. “We had a two hour call just last week.”
You shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, Renjun.”
You want to tell him that seeing him in person clearly has an effect on you. Your panties are practically ruined just because you’re sitting next to him. It’s been like this all the time, but you’re usually able to control your affections for him in a more subtle manner.
“Is it me? Is it the food? Do you actually not like it anymore? I can-“
“No, no, the food is fine,” you assure. You feel incredibly bashful trying to speak to him about your thoughts. “I just- I don’t know. It’s hard. Seeing you in person again.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”
You exhale. “Because you always make me feel weird, Renjun.”
His frown grows deeper. “Okay, you lost me. Am I making you uncomfortable? I don’t mean to.”
“No!” You hiss, getting frustrated. “I just- The crush I had on you years ago never went away, okay? I tried, but it’s just hard seeing you like this.”
You angrily stab your fork into your food and curse yourself silently. You pause when you feel his hands move over yours, turning so you can face him.
“Renjun, what are you-“
You gasp when his lips press against yours, thumb caressing your cheek slowly. You whimper when he pulls you closer against him, to the point where you’re almost straddling his lap.
“Renjun,” you whisper, and he shushes you.
“It’s okay, baby. How long did you wait for me?”
Your fingers grip his shoulder as he balances you on top of him.
“I- um-“
He laughs. “I heard you tell Jaemin a few months ago about your crush. I was wondering if I should make a move or not.”
You narrow your eyes. “So you knew.”
He hums, and moves his mouth to press kisses against your neck. The sensation has you arching at the touch, and your breath hitches as Renjun’s hands move lower and lower.
“So all that time, you were just imagining yourself under me, weren’t you?”
You swallow. “Maybe.”
He laughs again, but this time, it sounds just a little more sinister. You wonder if you’ve awoken something in him.
You squeal when he picks you up, easily moving the two of you to his bedroom. He lays you down on his bed, fingers still gripping your hips tightly. He smiles down at you.
“Aren’t you a pretty sight?”
“Won’t Jisung be mad? We’re violating his room.”
“It’s my room too,” he muses, sucking at the sensitive spot on your neck. “And he won’t know. I understand you’re incapable of keeping a secret, but I’m actually quite good at it.”
“Hey!” You pout.
He grins. “Cutie.” He pauses as his hands hover over your jeans. “I should let you know something before we go further.”
You nod, sensing the nervousness in his tone. “It’s okay, Renjun. I trust you.”
He chuckles. “I’m not usually- um, I’m not usually delicate with these sorts of things.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean having sex?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not crazy, but I don’t like going slow.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m a virgin, Renjun.”
“I just think it would be best if we have a safe word.”
Arousal builds within you at the thought of Renjun being so rough. You never expected it from him, if you’re being completely honest. Renjun was always your happy, tiny friend who loved you unconditionally.
“Um, okay. How about pineapple?”
“Sounds good to me.”
And then Renjun unleashes a part of him you’ve never seen before. You gasp when he undresses you in a blink of an eye, his eyes darkening at the lace of your panties.
“Did you wear this for me, baby?”
You stutter. “I-I didn’t know-“
He smiles. “Just teasing. You look so cute when you’re on the spot, you know.”
You don’t have time to respond before he’s running a finger up your clothed core. You hiss and arch your back.
“So responsive,” he hums. “Tell me how you like it, baby.”
You blink. “I usually like it when they eat me out first.”
“Yeah?” He asks, taking the shell of your ear between his lips. “You like it when they eat your cunt? When they play with your pretty little pussy?”
You whimper at the filth leaving his mouth. “Yes, yes,” you cry. “I want it, please.”
He growls. “Fuck, baby. I want to make a mess out of you.”
He moves until he’s in between your thighs, pressing kisses against the flesh. Your breath hitches as his fingers tug your underwear down. You’re a little shy to be so bare in front of him, but with the way Renjun looks at you, you swear he’s about to devour you at any moment.
You whine when he takes the first lick up your slit, pleasure shooting through your veins. You watch as he spits onto your cunt, tongue circling over your clit roughly. Your orgasm crashes into you without warning and you cry out, tangling your hands into his hair and pulling him closer. He drinks your essence as you ride out the waves of your high.
“Renjun, Renjun, Renjun,” you chant his name, feeling over the moon.
He laughs when you come down. “You cum really fast. Good.”
“Wait-“
You almost scream when he slides two fingers into you. His thumb presses against your clit harshly and you move to scramble away from him.
“I’m too sensitive, no, no-“
He shushes you. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”
You swear you scream when he pushes a third finger inside your dripping pussy, sending you over the edge again. You’re a whimpering mess at this point, begging Renjun to give you a break while he coos at you.
“Aw, you’re so pretty when you look like a little whore for me, baby. Are you always this wet for everyone else?”
“J-Just for you,” you whisper, struggling to breathe. He laughs at your disheveled state.
“It’s just for me? Pretty slut, all for me, right baby?”
You nod and he retracts his fingers, stuffing them in his mouth. He nearly licks them clean and you gasp at how lewd the action is.
“Can I h-have your cock n-now?”
His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Oh? You want more? So greedy.”
“Renjun, please.”
“You can do a lot better than that,” he teases. “Tell me how much you want my cock, sweet girl.”
You scramble. “I want it s-s-so badly, R-Renjun. W-Want you to fill my t-tight pussy with your cock. You made me wait too long,” you whine.
“I did make you wait a long time, didn’t I?”
You eagerly agree, hoping he’ll give you what you desire. You squeak when his fingers close around your throat. He leans down to lick a stripe up your cheek.
“Open.” You follow instructions, opening your mouth wide and observing as his spit trails down to your tongue. “Swallow.”
You obey and he smiles, pleased with your performance.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. Remember your safe word?”
You nod. All you can do is lay down and watch as he frees his cock from the confines of his underwear, his hand still wrapped around your throat possessively. Your eyes widen at the length of his cock, giving himself a few tugs before he positions at your entrance.
You whine. “Hurry, Renjun.”
“Such an impatient whore.”
The stretch is burning and you moan, your eyes locked on how Renjun struggles to push inside of you.
“Fuck. You’re so fucking tight.” When he bottoms out, you both exhale loudly. He pushes your thighs apart further and balances himself on his knees. “Remember that safe word, baby.”
You wonder why Renjun was so concerned about pushing it too far until he actually fucks you. The pleasure is mind numbing, and combined with him choking you and rubbing at your clit, you feel like you’re going to pass out. It gets to be too much for you again, and you whimper, trying to push him away.
He scolds you. “Don’t be such a brat. Take your fucking like a good girl.”
You’re sure you have another two orgasms without actually registering they’re happening. You feel limp in his arms, practically turning into a doll for him to fuck as he pleases. When the fire builds in your stomach again, you feel a tear slip down your cheek.
“I can’t, Renjun. I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can and you will. One more, pretty girl, and I’ll give you all my cum like a good whore deserves. Don’t you want that, baby?”
And you want it. You want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything before.
Your last orgasm is blinding, and you grip his arm tightly, trying to pull him as close as you possibly can. Your whole body twitches and Renjun groans, spilling into you after you continuously clench down on his cock.
When you both recover, you feel like a different person. You faintly hear him rising to clean you up, whimpering when his cock slips out of you. His calming voice returns soon after.
“Shh, good girl. Did so good for me.”
Your eyes widen when you feel him gather the cum dripping onto your thighs and pushing it back into you.
“Renjun-“
“It’s okay, I got you. Last one, I promise.”
You fulfill his wishes, and it doesn’t take very much for you to be thrown off the edge again. You pass out shortly after, hearing his praises before your eyes flutter shut.
“Good girl. So pretty and pliant for me. Sweet dreams.”
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Obey Me: MC is Hiding Something
When MC first awakens in the council room no one thinks much of them. They’re sitting there shivering like a dog left out in the rain and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.
Lucifer starts to wonder what in devil’s name made you a good candidate for this exchange program. You barely had enough courage to answer when Lord Diavolo welcomed you so graciously, much less look dignified in any way.
Something odd he does observe though is, despite your silence and obvious terror, you seemed to accept the concepts of a Devildom and of RAD and him and his brother very easily or maybe you were just nodding along insipidly.
Mammon’s opinion of you is even lower. He already hated the idea of having to watch and make sure some stupid human didn’t get themselves killed on their first week. Damn it! That wasn’t his job! They can’t even carry a conversation, always just staring and watching everybody.
The human doesnt seem to have any kind of motivations or idea as to what they wanna do. Lucifer will never know if he leaves you alone at school for a while considering you’ve found your friends group with the other exchange students. And at home he sees no problem with letting you go off for just an hour or two. All you really do is walk around and examine the rooms and grounds. Maybe you’re an architecture freak or something.
Leviathan barely pays you any mind when you arrive, not like he ever has the chance to, being that he never leaves his room outside of going to class. But during breakfast he does notice how interested you seemed in the game console he’s playing on. And for a moment he wonders if you’re a gamer or an otaku too
but no, ugh you’re just some normie. You watch Asmo obsess over his compact mirror and Satan over whatever book he’s holding just the same. And you’re conversation is shit like Mammon said. Listless and lacking enthusiasm. But he doesnt stop you when you watch over his shoulder when he plays.
Satan doesn’t have a problem with you. That said, he doesn’t particularly like you. But he can respect how much time you seem to spend in the library, and how many books you borrow about the devildom and kinds of demons. It made sense, you wanted to know the kind of creatures you were surrounded by.
he does wonder though, why one day you seem to be borrowing a lot of Solomon’s books and Solomon’s time as well. But then again, that makes sense too, you were both human after all. Maybe you would stop flinching and get even a little more comortable with someone your race around. When one of his tomes disappear, he interrogates Mammon because of course, it’s Mammon.
Asmo likes your style. It’s not particularly glamorous or eye-catching but it matches your aesthetic. He especially admired your choices in acessories. The amulet you’re always wearing is so pretty and he swears sometimes it almost glows. And your rings were peak Devildom fashion, sharp, edgy iron designs. But he especially adored the silver spike earring you wore.
He was both delighted and smug that he was the first one to get a little closer to you. But of course, how could you resist! You even complimented the perfume he was wearing and asked where he got it. And he directed you to his favorite oils and essences shop that supplied products and ingredients from every realm. And while applying some to your wrist he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under your sleeve but you pull your hand away, bashful. Oh, he’ll get you to show him someday. Heehee.
Beel is curious how a human can eat so much. He’s been told human athletes apparently eat a lot to maintain muscle mass and strength and the like but looking at you, you didn’t seem the type to do anything strenuous. Except he does notice that when a demon bumps you in the hall, you’re not hurt or thrown off despite the size difference. And when you’re purposely knocked into by someone else, your reaction is fast, pivoting out of the way and behind the demon and you almost look like...
Nah. You weren’t going to attack him, you began to cower and apologize again and again until Mammon had to drag you way before it got any more embarrassing. The next time you pique his interest is at the gym in the house. You always make sure to go at a time when there isn’t anyone else and he happened to go after you. But it couldn’t have been you that just used that machine. Were you really capable of lifting that much?
Luke and Simeon are sympathetic, Simeon understands the discomfort and the adjustment and answers any questions you have about the brothers and how not to piss them off or placate them if ever you did make them angry. He answers your questions about RAD and the program but does wonder. Wherever did you get an angel relic like the one hanging from your ear?
Luke says you shouldn’t be afraid of those no good demons, if anything happens you can run to Purgatory Hall and they’ll help. He promises. He likes your company and starts up baking with you, teaching dishes and pastries. He tells you a lot about Michael and lets slip things about Lucifer and the brothers back when they were still angels. You don’t push him on the subjects but you do seem pretty interested.
it all came together, very easily. First the lights, Leviathan’s screams echo in the halls as he laments not having saved soon enough. Asmodeus’ whining about losing such good selfie lighting came next and both come out into the hall, yelling for their older brother. “Lucifer!”
If not for that, Lucifer probably wouldn’t have noticed, having been locked up in his firelit office since dinner was over. Heaving a sigh he gets up. All of the yelling told him the lights were out so how could he have expected the brilliant flash of white that burned his eyes when he opened his door. He stumbles, leaning on the door frame for support as footfalls race down the hall.
He growls, feeling his wings and horns materialize but something isn’t right. His vision doesn’t return and his skin starts to burn. In the air he catches the faintest scent of something he hasn’t smelled in a long time. Holy oil.
When the little light in the fridge fades, Beel thinks he may have fucked up. But then it turns out the whole house is out so it must just be some prank. He keeps eating, uncaring whether or not he identifies what it is he’s shoveling into his mouth. Then he smells it.
once upon a time he’d caught Luke with some kind of cookies from the celestial realm. And they were some of the best cookies he’d ever had in his existence. He could never forget that smell, so when it wafts through the air coming from the main hall, he follows. Drool begins to gather beneath his tongue.
He misses the sharp, metallic scent drifting beneath it.
Satan’s vexation spikes when his reading light goes out and his peace and quiet is distrubed by his idiot brothers. Mammon probably tried to turn the power off in Levi’s room to get him out so he can sneak in and steal his stuff again. But then Asmo starts yelling, and one cry from Lucifer rattles his bones.
It’s enough to get him on his feet. But what draws a gasp from him is the flash of lightning that gives him his sight for a moment. White lightning, an impossibility in the devildom’s ever red tinged sky. He goes to the window, knocking a stack of tomes over and unlatches it. But it doesn’t budge. Using the light on his D.D.D. he tries again but it just won’t open.
Outside Satan’s door heavy footsteps, thump along in a slow rhythm. Satan races to the door and Beel is there trudging along the carpet like a zombie, his nose perched in the air.
“Beel?! What the-? What are you doing?”
“Hey what’s the big idea!? Where are you guys!? Who’s doing that weird singing?!”
Mammon calls out into the mansions, just as confused as everyone else. Satan’s brows furrow; he didn’t cause this, then. He’s about to answer but Mammon yelps, and a resounding thwack has Satan grab Beel, and race towards the sound, almost stumbling over each other’s feet in the dark. They’re only guide is the ocassional flash of white and the sound of chanting growing louder as they grow near.
It is still pitch black but years of experience and spatial awareness tells him they’re in the foyer. Satan ventures out, almost tripping over something on the ground; it’s Mammon. He lays at the top of the steps, passed out. Satan is about to shake him awake when Leviathan and Asmo come out of a hall holding up Lucifer between them. Another flash. Lucifer’s demon form flickers in and out, smoke rising from his blistering skin. Satan freezes and Beel picks up Mammon in his arms.
“Satan! What the hell is going on!?” Levi calls out into the dark over the spell.
The chanting stops. So does the lightning and they’re plunged into complete darkness. They hear the sound of plastic and a baggie hits Beelzebub square in the chest, landing on Mammon’s stomach. “Cookies?”
He smells that first but then they recognise the other scent prominent in the air as blood.
Human blood.
“Wait, where’s MC?!” Asmo’s voice comes from the black. “Are they trapped somewhere?”
Someone laughs.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”
Lightning flashes again, bathing the foyer in glaring white. It’s only for a moment but their eyes are quick enough. It becomes clear where the stench of blood was coming from. “After all, I’m not trapped in here with you...”
Your eyes seem to glow, vacant of whatever fear or trepidation you’ve deceived them with for weeks. In your hand is the earring Asmo admired so much, the silver tip dripping red. At your side, your palm is sliced open, already clotting as you’ve used all you needed for the seal activating the devil’s trap around the entire house. Your sleeves are pushed up to the elbows the sigils and signs inked into your skin tasting air again after so long. As you place your hand on the seal they come alight. Your lips curl over your teeth.
“You’re trapped in here....with me.”
Solomon knows a demon slayer when he sees one. And he tells you right off the bat whatever you’re planning it isn’t a good idea. You’re outnumbered and overpowered by them.
but then he sees otherworldly magic light up the skies and decides maybe it’s a good time to visit the House of Lamentations.
Part 2
#obey me#shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me diavolo#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#obey me simeon#obey me luke#obey me solomon#obey me headcannons#obey me fic#merakiulous-k
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My love has left tumblr once again.
As many of you may know, the account under the name MDZADR, has left tumblr. They felt unsafe in their fandom, and as such have deleted their tumblr and AO3 account due to the bad memories linked to them.
As a part of their departure, they have asked me to post something in their name, as follows.
If you want more details about how I came to this realization, continue to read. If not, here is your summary:
TL;DR: For the safety and health of this fandom, I wanted to spread the word that Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and MelodyoftheVoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don’t “ship zadr correctly.” She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is.
Full story below.
I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Nobody did anything to me today, but this just wasn’t worth it.
My AO3 and tumblr are both gone. I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to look like an attention seeker.
Here’s the thing. I wasn’t going to name drop, but you guys need to know the truth. I’m instructing my boyfriend (hi y’all) to turn asks off for his own safety after this because this is going to be a nightmare, but... allow me to tell you the full story. I’ll try to break up the text so it’s less difficult to read, but this is important. I’m sorry to air discourse so publicly, but please... I need you to listen to me.
I’ll start from the beginning, without being vague anymore about who “she” is. I request that you please read the whole thing and not skip parts of it. The whole story matters.
I finally returned to the fandom about two months or so ago. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t do well in my thoughts while left alone too long, so I posted saying I would stop messaging people I knew because I didn’t want to bother them. There were only two people I was talking to at the time, but one of them is famous so I didn’t want to message her directly saying that. Doing so would have put her in a position of feeling obligated to say “you’re not bothering me” rather than just simply being able to sigh with relief from no longer being contacted.
But the first person to contact me was the famous person, and she asked if I was okay, and told me she liked talking to me.
God, I actually cried.
But, that’s just her. Melodyofthevoid is the type of person to talk to people in the fandom, totally unaware of her demigod status. She comments on stories, interacts on posts, messages first... a pillar of kindness, so it seemed.
But let the story continue.
Over time, we were talking more often.
Mostly sending memes (cause everyone I knew, myself included, aren’t exactly great at holding conversations. No shade. Memes are a love language). I was still in the hero worship stage of our relationship, so my view of her was that that was perfect.
Now, let me bridge a connection with a new story idea I got around December 28th or so, and my thinking she was perfect.
I had recently finished watching Madoka and questioned “If I had magical powers, what would they be?” It then turned into its own story idea, basing creators’ powers around the strengths and weaknesses in creations. I actually realized “oh fuck. My stuff is incoherent. My friends’ works aren’t too different...”
Thus spawned the name “Incoherent” for the project.
What does that have to do with this? Well, here’s the thing that really fucked everything up quickly.
This was not on purpose, because originally the project (which I had told nobody of yet at the time) was all about improving your works, making platonic friends, dressing our personas in cute outfits, and writing fun magic.
While listening to music and thinking of the story one day, my brain accidentally shipped my persona with hers, and I couldn’t unsee it. And I’m lousy at keeping my own secrets (other’s are different) so she found out on probably day one or two about my weird crush because of an ask meme of all things.
She didn’t try to put me off any, which was another problem for future things to come, and so I decided that since Incoherent was finally making me feel alive again and feeling the euphoric feelings of love wouldn’t hurt anything (I figured they’d mellow out on their own eventually because that’s how infatuation works) since they helped fuel my inspiration, and then we would just continue from friends to better friends one day and this part of our lives would be over.
Besides, the forbidden is attractive somehow, and makes stories more entertaining. She’s aro/ace, so I had no chance anyway. Someone safe to crush on, in her own way.
This isn’t a story of a love betrayal however. There was no such thing. But it’s important to the story because Incoherent is where my mistakes were made, and hers brought to light.
By this time, I had a handful of people I was talking to, and I created a discord server for the project. Only my boyfriend (hi!) and I were in it at the time. I was not-so-subtly asking my friends what they’d look like if they were a magical person, what their names would be... I thought I would have had to lure Melody in to make her want to join us, but I managed to get her in very easily. Everyone was happy and excited! It was a no obligation, no time limit thing for us to enjoy, a little sandbox to play around in.
Sure there were plans to make it bigger and I was working on art to the best of my ability, but it was gonna be a fun thing mostly. No pressure on anyone.
And how things started becoming a problem was that the rest of us posted publicly about the project and interacted with each other’s posts relating to the story, but she had started to interact publicly less and less with our things, and everyone noticed it.
It wasn’t because we were greedy and wanted the popular girl to reblog our things. It’s because we had a feeling she was ashamed of being seen publicly with us. The reason we were worried before then and started making that connection was because I mentioned I was going to ask another user if they were interested in joining Incoherent. Melody was the only one that seemed uncomfortable, and I messaged her asking about it. We agreed I wouldn’t invite that person but I knew things were off about it.
That person is like me. How long until Melody didn’t want to talk to me anymore? A few days ago, the other shoe finally dropped. A member of our little group and I were talking and (let’s call them Friend for simplicity. They asked to not be name dropped here) Friend was worried they had made Melody upset by tagging her in a meme picture they drew of her persona, and the two had agreed that Friend remove the tag. This spawned an anxiety-filled conversation where Friend and I expressed our concerns about Melody not interacting with the project, or us.
So since I wanted reassurance that that wasn’t the case, I messaged Melody with my concerns. I told her I had the feeling she was ashamed of being seen in public with us because of her friends, and she didn’t refute me. She simply told me to go get some rest. I messaged back with “I’m right.”
I deleted Discord off my phone for hours and nearly deleted my Tumblr, AO3, and the server after my boyfriend helped pass messages between us. Melody confessed that was the case because her friends expressed discomfort with my works, and she was playing both sides.
Her words, not mine.
Melody told me she would be withdrawing from the Incoherent project because it wasn’t fair to us if her heart wasn’t in it.
She didn’t stand up on my behalf when they said things about me. Her friends are the type who talk behind creators’ backs for shipping zadr “incorrectly.” Worse than antis because they actually participate in the “pro-shipping” side of the fandom. I broke that day and messaged her at 3 am.
We finally spoke at 3pm. We both missed each other. I tried to understand more. I wanted it to be more like a conversation rather than an interrogation. It was only one-sided however, and she never opened up further. And I made some mistakes and poor choices of words, and we ended up parting ways permanently right there.
I nearly deleted everything, but much like a coma patient attached to many machines on a hospital bed, my blog was kept alive a little longer by people sending kind words in droves. I was briefly fuelled by spite, wishing to watch the world burn by making everyone on the "correct" side of the fandom upset by posting the worst, most vile content this fandom has ever seen.
I was also welcomed with open arms by a very kind server with fellow degenerates, all of them screaming and crying and partying when they managed to get me in their server. It was so heartwarming...
But as I spoke to others about my situation, I realized something. A disturbing pattern.
People telling me horror stories about how Mooping-10 was cult-like. How the people running it were antis. I was even told once that they have a secondary server where they go to have their talks and do their work, likely the place where the real bashing is held.
The server itself has rules against such behavior, but I suppose it's different when they do it.
One person (and this is the most unnerving part for me, personally) told me Melody actually set off alarm bells in their head without having even done anything yet, and the most disturbing part of the story was that one of the moderators was afraid and upset because they got Covid, and received basically no moral support at all. Only getting told "spoiler that. Sorry you got Covid".
I was horrified. That server has 100 people in it. How many of them are the same? They act like popular kids in school who picked up an unpopular main character and then bash others, and the main character joined in because they don't want to be left behind by their new "friends".
To put it short, back to my point:
TL;DR: I simply only wanted to spread the word that: Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and Melodyofthevoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don't "ship zadr correctly". She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is.
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Thoughts on everyone in the realms?
"Short Answer; I made a chart. Not a well drawn chart, mind you, but a chart. Sometimes you don't wanna put effort into drawing 50 something faces"
"Long answer, uh....well lemme go down the list"
Claudette: My Starflower~!! She's so sweet and kind and amazing in trials and every time I see her I swoon a little- I love her so much~
Dwight: He's cute- And he's a good leader, despite his nervous personality, he knows how to bring a group together. Final guy potential.
Ash: ....Don't...Tell him I said this? But uh....Evil Dead was one of my biggest comfort series, the thing that got me through losing both my parents....the thing that helped me transition, pick my name, and fueled my FX hobby. And I'm still attached, even realizing he's a real person and all- But...it's weird to just, be upfront with something like that, so I'm just...burying it as best as I can.
David: He's a little rough around the edges but he’s good to have in a trial, plus when you can get past the walls, he’s nice to talk to.
Kate: Her music by the campfire is calming and she’s such a sweetheart. If we were in a better situation I’d love to learn Guitar from her, but, it’s hard when you’re a moment away from a trial at any given time.
Amalthea (@askthewidowstars OC): She judged my entire vibe but jokes on her I’m the one who snagged a cutie for life-
Meg: If I had a dollar for every time she left me for dead I would have enough money to paint the entire campfire in solid gold. The only time we’ve ever properly talked was about SAW traps and 90% of it was her admitting she could beat every single trap because she was ‘built different’
Jeff: He’s a sweetheart and really nice to be around. Sometimes when we’re by the campfire in our downtimes I’ll let him draw on my arm. it kinda makes me want a tattoo, honestly. If we ever get out of here, I might get one.
Steve: Bros!! We kinda make up team ‘Altruistic Himbo’, Plus the ‘Babysitter/Brother’ Vibes mesh really well. I kinda wanna re-style his hair though, mostly because it looks fluffy, and nice to play with.
Quentin: Bros!! We’re gonna make matching T-Shirts about committing Arson on Freddy in particular. He’s fun to hang around in our downtime, and I hope there’s a chance he can get some actual rest, even in here. He deserves it.
Adam: If Dwight wasn’t the leader I feel like he’d take over the Reigns. I feel like he’s the calm type that doesn’t handle energetic types well though. Which, y’know, makes things hard.
Nea: Anytime I see her she’s either sneaking around the map and watching everyone get killed, or doing something stupid to get herself killed. I’d get grey hair if We were actually friends.
Feng: Gamer bros- I got to find out we actually played a lotta the same stuff before we were taken by the Entity. We get a chance to nerd out in between trials-
Laurie: Best Final Girl hands down. I kinda hope she can teach me Decisive Strike one day- I feel like its also just a little awkward since again, still a fan of Myers
Nancy: She doesn’t agree that Demo’s a good boy, which makes sense, but we but heads over it. Also I’m pretty sure she wants me dead for touching the bones around the map one too many times. They’re just too tempting....
Jake: He’s pretty quiet, but he’s helpful in trials. I heard he’s been to a convention a few times, but I don’t think he’s actually into it as much as I thought...Which kinda sucks. I’d love more cosplay buddies y’know?
Yui: Kinda makes me want a motorbike. We don’t talk but she seems really cool. A little too cool to me around if that makes sense.
Yun-Jin: She benefits off of throwing everyone else under the bus. And 90% of the time she will throw everyone under the bus. Even if she needs actual help to escape the trial.
Cheryl: Cheryylll!! She’s really cool and honestly would add her to the ‘Can kill god if she was not nerfed’ Squad. Especially since y’know, she has- I bet if we got enough of the kids together we could just beat the Entity’s ass. I know she could.
Tapp: Always been a fan of Tapp before I was taken, although I feel like he’d wanna arrest me if we weren’t in the Entity’s Realm. I might be a little too excited for my own good about Kramer’s work. I don’t think he’d believe the fact its a movie either.
Ace: He’s kinda like the Uncle of the group around the campfire, but, coming into trials, He’s still for saving his own skin-
You can also only stand dad jokes for so long. Especially in an eternity like this.
Leon: He’s cool!!! I got so excited first realizing He and Jill were here, and I wanna get a chance to talk to him about everything that went down, but Haven’t got the chance. He’s nice inside of Trials though, usually doesn’t leave anyone behind. Not a fan of getting blinded though.
Jill: She knows how to lead the trials well, and I look up to her a lot. She’s always been such a badass!!
Bill: If Bill gets his hands on a weapon the entire Realm would be fucked. Badass as hell and Kinda scary. Another one on the list of ‘Entity needed to Nerf’
Felix: You’d think a Childless Father and a Fatherless son would be able to bond a bit more, but, I think we each kinda get the same vibe of homesickness from one another. He’s kind though, and it’s neat to see his work whenever we’re by the campfire.
Elodie: She’s better at helping out than most of the others, but she’s still in a survival of the fittest mindset. I loved hearing about her studies from before she was taken though. I feel like if we had more time we could dig deeper into this whole world and what its about. But we don’t get that-
Zarina: We just don’t really click as much, honestly. I’d love to get to know her better but I think she’s more into digging into the killers and what she can find out about this place. Which y’know, could be better done with a team.
Sage (@askthewidowstars OC): HUSBAND!!! My husband. I love him to the Moon and back. He’s amazing and I miss him even when we’re five feet apart-
...I need a hug now-
Amanda: Best girl hands down!! We vibed a lot in between Trials talking about her traps and old designs, she was impressed by my knowledge, and we hang out in Gideon sometimes!
Ghostface: He’s pretty cute- Also fun to be around, even if he’s kind of a dick when he’s actually at work, it’s better when you’re outside of a Trial. It’s also neat to see he’s not just two idiots in a halloween costume and his own person, as much as I love the Scream Series, too-
Leatherface: Bubba!!! Honestly I’d handle being chainsawed. Fuckin Love Bubba-
Huntress: I wanna learn how to throw hatchets but I know I never will. She’s kinda scary, but also I feel like if she could adopt some of the others in the Realms, she totally would.
Oni: The only times I’ve ever really seen him is just before my skull gets bashed in. All I really have associated to him is the splitting headache.
Twins: I’m gonna punt Victor into the sun. I haven’t been good around kids beforehand and this tiny gremlin motherfucker just makes it worse.
Pinhead: I was so excited to see him!! He’s one of the few that talks more often than not in a trial, and he’s always had this air of elegance about him which makes it so much cooler! I’d be tempted to grab the box to solve it, but, at the same time Dwight’s already been hunted. I just...want to see how it works, really. Maybe if I ask nicely? Nah, probably not.
Pyramid Head: He’s so fucking COOL!!! He’s always just been really fucking cool and I still get stars in my eyes. I wanna re-create his weapon one day.
Joey: Joey’s one of the chill killers to be around, probably my favorite amongst the legion. Also Cosplay gang?? Hello?
Susie: She’s cute!! I like her vibes whenever there’s not violence involved. I wonder if she’d ever get into costume making, she has the artistic eye for it. I also wonder if she’d ever dye other people’s hair...I’d kinda want green tips one day-
Frank: Still wanna throw a palette at him. He’s one of the more serious of the Legion, and usually the one you’d find with a Mori. Not as Serious as Julie but only because he has the cocky god complex to go with it.
Julie: She’s definitely the most serious out of the Legion. There’s no real rest whenever we’re in a trial against her. Scary as hell and less of a bastard than the other three.
Hillbilly: I know he deserved a lot better than this, especially after hearing more about him. I...Haven’t gotten to see much than the end of his chainsaw though.
Blight: This dude’s singlehandedly bringing back my fear of needles and I thought I lost that with HRT- Also like, dude spits up orange fuckin everywhere.
Michael: My Mans!! I always get a little excited knowing we’re up against him. It’s habit- It’s kinda weird to see him easily affected by like, palettes or flashlights though.
Spirit: She seems like she could be nice when there’s some downtime. I’m also one of the few that can understand her well enough, which probably makes things easier. I found out she’s basically my age when I survived a trial by myself. I’d hope to hang out more sometime.
Nemesis: God he’s so fucking tall. Kinda surprised it was Nemesis out of everyone that could’ve been brought, and also, kinda terrified? Still am kinda terrified. I’m surprised he hasn’t just torn up an entire map yet. His zombie minions are also annoying.
Wraith: All this motherfucker does is roll up to pull me off Gens and Exist as a problem. I don’t see much of him outside of a Trial.
Trapper: Motherfucker Incarnate. If the Entity lets us throw hands I’m fighting him first.
Freddy: ....Gross. I liked the Nightmare on Elm Street series a lot, but...Freddy as a person? Ew. Especially this iteration.
Demogorgon: Demopuppy!! He’s a good boy and he deserves to get treats. Even if the Treats are flesh....I wonder if he likes candy though.
Trickster: Pretty!! He also Gives me DIO vibes because of the Jacket and the Knife throwing...Imagine if a killer could stop time...that’d be terrifying.
Deathslinger: I wanna sit down and look at his gun more but I also feel like if I ask I’d just get shot on sight. Intimidating as hell but also cool.
Mary: ....Still on the very complicated ‘Ex Girlfriend that murdered me’ State. It’s hard to avoid her though. Especially since she wants to get back together since we’re stuck here.
Nurse: She does not help my fear of Hospitals, honestly. While she’s easy to go up against, it’s still eugh.
Plague: I really, really hate her power. The Sickness and the Vomit is just- Eughhhhh- It just hits every bad sensory issue at once.
Clown: ...I get killers are Killers and aren’t supposed to be good people but also like....Disgusting. Please Remove from the Realm. He’s just- ...Ew.
Doctor: NOPE. NO. NEVER. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.
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Hotheaded
•KATSUKI BAKUGOU x READER
•Overview: Bakugou was completely confusing. One second he seemed somewhat interested in you, and the next he acted as if he wanted nothing to do with you.
•Warnings: Cursing, the famous Bakugou anger issues, tiny bit of angst
•Season: Kinda in the season 1-2 range in my mind, but no specifics.
-
“Stop looking at me you nerd!” The angry Bakugou yells at Izuku, truly about to loose his mind. This practice scenario was pissing him off, why does Mr. Aizawa constantly feel the need to partner him with Izuku? He’d much rather be with you, you always listened carefully and never seemed to get distracted. Plus your quirks worked so well with one another’s.
Right after the words left his mouth Izuku was hit in the face with a piece of rock thrown at him by All Might. His body slammed to the ground behind him, wind completely knocked out of his lungs. He didn’t move after that, only letting a ugly sound past his lips as the pain overtook. Bakugou cleanched his fists tightly, knuckles whitening. He knew what was going to happen next.
If your partner is down and can’t manage to get up before 10 seconds, you don’t pass. It wasn’t anything major like a test, only some practice. But Baku still wanted to say he won even if he didn’t get a grade out of it.
“Maybe if you stop putting me with this weakling I could actually show you what I am made of,” Baku grunts. He wanted to blast Izuku in the face, and it took everything not to fulfill his thoughts.
Instead he let you creep into his mind, calming his over the top anger coursing through him. He’d never admit the affect that you’ve had on him since the beginning of the school year. At first he hated how you’d smile at him even if his face read leave me the fuck alone. He hated how you’d giggle when he’d try to be intimidating, or when you’d compliment him even if he completely ignored you.
Over time he started to soften up to it, and everyone noticed. Especially you, and it was amazing. But the somewhat calm Baku would only come out when no one else was around. No one else saw the extent to this side of him, only you. When others would come around he’d say some dumb comment to make it seem like he was a hardass.
It didn’t bother you all that much at first, you knew he was just trying to keep his ora the same. He didn’t want to let any of his classmates shit on his pride. But over time his words got more and more hurtful. He started to say mean things to you when others were near, which he didn’t at first. It’s as if he felt the suspicion for you and him growing between his classmates.
Bakugou stomps away from the scene not wanting to stand there any longer. You watched on a screen from a near by building, and you couldn’t help but frown. You can’t stand seeing him get all worked up like this, it always made him in a bad mood for the rest of the day. You left the room and met him in one of the extra waiting rooms. It was empty, only the two of you.
His eyes were filled with anger, but as soon as he saw you they softened. It was weird at first to see red eyes sparkle at the sight of you, but you quickly got used to it. It was rather flattering to have such a hothead find peace in you.
“Are you alright?” You ask in a soft voice. He huffs at your question before slamming his body down in a chair.
“No, i’m tired of being with Deku, he just holds me back!” He says in a thick voice, hand coming to slam down on the table. You reach up to take off his mask, red eyes watching your every move.
“I want to do stuff like that with you, but Mr. Assface never partners us up,” he says through gritted teeth.
You feel your heartbeat increase, and a small blush creep onto your face. He notices it and smirks a bit, he loves having this affect on you.
“Plus seeing you in your outfit in action so close would be mesmerizing,” he whispers, trying his best to fuck with you. He just loved your flustered face.
“Bakugou!” You squeal and hit his arm as hard as you can. But you also have a bashful smile on your face, which is always Baku’s goal.
“No really c’mon, I bet you’d love to see my biceps flexing as I punched shit, you’d love it!”
You shake your head to each side not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing you would absolutely love that. But he could tell by your increased blush that it had just the right affect on you. He can’t help but let out some laughter, teeth showing in full amusement.
Right as you were about to say something back, red-haired Kirishima walks through the door. Baku’s laughter almost immediately stops and his whole body language changes. The uneasiness began to fill your stomach and head, you only hoped he didn’t say anything mean.
“You did pretty good out there Bakugou, too bad I wasn’t your partner though. We would’ve made it through!” Kirishima says as he turns his arms into hard rock to show off a bit.
“You would’ve ended up just like Izuku, on the ground too hurt to move,” he says through gritted teeth. This side of him gave you anxiety. Of course he was always angry and short tempered, but this was different. It’s as if when you’re around he goes more out than usual. He didn’t want anyone to see even a hint of the side he shows to you, so his solution was to be as intimidating as possible.
You obsolutely hated it.
“Oh be nice Baku,” you said in a sweet voice.
His red eyes narrowed at you, and his teeth grinded against one another in annoyance. He stood up from the chair quickly and was towering over you, his goal to be as intimidating as possible was definitely working.
“I wouldn’t want to be partnered up with a weakling like you either. You’d hold me back too. I bet you wouldn’t even make it three steps in before getting your ass kicked!” His words felt like one stab after another. You came to understand why Bakugou was mean to others, why he acted the way he did. but with you, that’s something you could never understand.
You stare at him with hurt eyes. He’d never said something like that about you or to you, and it felt like shit.
Bakugou watched as your face grew pale and your bottom lip began to quiver. Tears started to build in your eyes, he’d never seen you cry. No one had ever seen you cry. To be honest, you couldn’t remember yourself the last time you had cried.
��What the hell Bakugou, chill out man,” Kirishima said.
You stood up, almost eye level. His eyes had softened a bit when you started crying, it was obvious. You didn’t know if Kirishima could tell but you definitely could. He knew his words were too far as soon as they came out.
He expected you to slap him, or even say a smart comment back. But instead you wiped your tears and said nothing, eyes still locked with his. He wanted to hug you, even though he never had before, and whisper a million apologies in your ear. Instead he stood there, frozen.
And he remained frozen as you turned on your heals and left the room, sniffling lightly as you walked away.
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. Right when he thought he was getting better at not being a total ass to you he just screwed things up even more. He wanted to do better for you, but it’s as if every cell in his body wouldn’t allow him to just let it go. To just be nice to you, for you.
Days went by, weeks, than a whole month since the incident, and you hadn’t spoken a word to Bakugou. He missed you more than ever, you seemed to be the only thing on his mind. But it seems as if you’ve completely blocked the thought of the hotheaded blonde out of your head. He doesn’t think you’ve even looked at him since the day your eyes were filled with tears.
Bakugou felt like he was going insane. To only have Kirishima to talk to became a nightmare. He wanted to hear your laugh, see you blush, and most of all he wanted things to be right again.
But you couldn’t help but think that things were never right. He was always angry, always confusing you, and always saying things for the benefit of nobody but himself. You just couldn’t put up with it anymore the pain was way too much to handle. Yet you still missed him like crazy.
You wanted to change him but that wasn’t your job.
Many people have said hurtful things to you in your past, most of them were worse then Baku’s words. But the fact that his felt so different and more hurtful than any others showed you how he’d softened you as well.
Reality set back in as Kaminari handed you a sheet of paper. You’d been sat your desk with eyes fixed on the wall thinking nonstop. It’s as if you forgotten where you were and what you were doing as you thought about the fire eyed boy.
“What’s this?” You ask confused. Due to not paying any attention you had no idea what was happening.
“An easy quiz over the stuff we learned during training the past few days,” he answers.
Thank God for that. For a second you thought Mr. Aizawa taught something while you were zoned out and pulled an ass move and gave a test. This stuff was easy, you’d been working hard on it for days.
The rest of the day went by pretty fast and it was normal, no big crazy things happening. You just wanted to go home and lay in your bed. It was your safe place, a place where you didn’t have to avoid any type of interaction with Bakugou. You knew it was silly to ignore him like this, to act as if he didn’t exist, but it was your solution to getting over him.
Everyone knew you liked Bakugou and they definitely thought you were crazy for it. You were one of the sweetest girls in class and loved working with people. So basically you were the complete opposite of Bakugou in every aspect, but yet you were so attracted to him.
Shit, i’m thinking about him too much.
The whole point of this ignoring tactic was to stop thinking about the blonde yet here you were struggling to think about anything but him. He may be hard to understand in some ways but you admired the challenge. You liked getting to know someone that wouldn’t open up to anyone else it made you feel special. And you liked to think that you made Bakugou feel special as well, but now you really don’t know.
Your feet guided you off the school grounds and onto the sidewalk. The walk home was about twenty minutes and it was a beautiful day. The weather brightened your mood.
“(y/n)!”
You immediately froze. That voice hasn’t said your name for a month. You’d actually barely heard the voice at all due to constantly trying to drown it out. Emotions quickly began swirling and you had no idea if you felt like you were about to throw up or squeal with joy. At this point it was probably both, and at the same time.
Right as you turn around you see Bakugou running at you almost out of breath. Had he chased you from the school? You’d only been walking for five or so minutes no way you could’ve gone that far.
“What?” You asked dryly.
That one word with zero emotion was pure music to his ears. Your beautiful eyes hadn’t even glanced at him in the past month so this absolutely overjoyed him, but he tried to not let it show too much.
“Bakugou what do you want?”
He hasn’t realized how long he’d been looking at you since you two made eye contact. It was just entrancing, he’d taken your gaze for granted as well.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he said.
You were completely shocked. There’s no way hardass Bakugou was apologizing to you right now, and looking like a lost puppy as he does so. His eyes had never looked so sad, so soft, so.. sweet. You hadn’t even witnessed this side of him yet it was a whole different feel.
Words couldn’t seem to find their way past your lips or even in your mind.
“I’m like, really sorry,” he starts, “my pride gets in the way of us and it shouldn’t.”
Your eyes widen at his words, “Us?”
His hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, eyes looking at the ground shyly. Wow, Bakugou being shy? This was all out of a dream, no way it was real. It was one thing for him to joke around with you and be calm but to this was different. This was a layer deeper of Bakugou and you admired it.
“Yeah, us. We have something going on, right? Or has it all been in my head?” He asks embarrassed. He started to worry for a second that you didn’t feel the same but the heat rising to your cheeks answered the question.
“Again (y/n), i’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, and i’m also sorry it’s taken me so long to even be having this talk right now. I’ll do better I promise, i’m never going to make you feel that way again,” he kept eye contact with you the whole time. He truly wanted you to understand how sorry he was and how much you meant to him.
He was about to say more but you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He was hesitant at first, not sure what to think of this, but your warmth and sweetness radiating off of you calmed him down. You made him feel safe.
“Dont let me down Baku,” you said.
His arms come up to return the embrace, basking in how warm and fuzzy he felt. It was much better than being angry and yelling.
“I won’t, I promise.”
#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugō#katsuki bakugo#katsuki#katsuki x reader#baku#baku x reader#imagine#fanfic#baku imagine#baku fanfic#katsuki imagine#katsuki fanfic#anime#love#romance#dynamite#hero academia#boku no hero fanfic#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero academia#boku no hero x reader
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Are you really happy without the conventional work? How do you deal with feeling like a failure compared to your peers? How the fuck do i adult i'm so tierd and stressed and don't know what i'm doing
I'm really sorry about how tired, stressed, and uncertain you may be feeling. <3 That's really hard stuff to feel. And I mean that with every ounce of sympathy I wish I could express better beyond this stiff text. Sending you all the love.
I am happier without doing conventional work. It might be less stable because my jobs are short-term, and the instability does make me nervous, but I feel like it has more pros than cons for my personal happiness. It will not be for everyone, though, and I would not recommend it for everyone.
I'm assuming when you ask about feeling like a failure, it's both in concern to how I feel with it, and how you might feel yourself. <3 <3 I hope that this answer ends up helping. It's the best I can try. <3
As for myself, I don't for a second believe I am a failure. I've always been a cocky bitch, and here the cockiness reigns supreme: I'm pretty awesome whether I do anything or not. When I'm exhausted and unhappy and Depression takes over (and hooboy Depression can take over like demon possession), my mind might stray to unbearable self-hate and self-deprecation, but I argue against those voices rather than let them enter my everyday language about myself. (It's a dangerous habit to ever repeatedly insult yourself; it ingrains those thoughts in you worse, it really does.)
There's nothing that makes me a failure compared to my old peers. They're pursuing jobs that society traditional deems "successful." So what? They're irrelevant to me and my life, and my life is irrelevant to them. Society's ideas of what is and isn't good has always been complete bullshit anyway... why should I care if I amount anything to what broader society feels? Broader society is stupid and I don't give a damn about it. I'm not saying this out of bitterness or rejection or something; I honestly don't care because it's irrelevant to me.
I'm here to pursue myself, pursue what I personally like. If I feel happier, if I make a milestone that's relevant to me and myself and I, then that's awesome. In many ways, if I'm different than my old peers and not following into their notion of success, then I know I'm doing right by myself. ;) It's proof of my own growth, isn't it?
The truth of the matter is, nobody is a failure for being different than someone else. Every person has a different life path. I know for many people, they are more self-conscious about how the world around them operates, how the world sees them. If the world doesn't find them successful, beautiful, etc., they feel like shit. Maybe you feel self-conscious about not meshing with society or being "as good as" other people around you. And I'm here to say: your life is your life. <3 <3 I know it can be hard to stop comparing yourself with others, but in the end, I do believe we have to understand our own innate value is permanent. Our value is there no matter what. You are beautiful. Period. There's no ifs, ands, buts, accomplishments, actions, or choices that will change the fact you are innately incredible. <3
The people whose heart meshes with yours, the people who lift you up, those are the people that matter, and those people will never believe you're a failure. Those people will see you as the diamond you are. If people judge you and are cruel to you for that, then their voices are the irrelevant ones to be discarded, because they aren't valuing you, and so they don't have good life advice or good values. There's no value listening to idiots, fools, and castigators. Now, that's not to say that good friends and acquaintances won't tell you you're doing something wrong or struggling or making a bad choice... a good friend is someone who protects you by speaking honestly and warning you if they think you're stumbling... but they aren't going to put you down as some failure, either. They're there to help you move forward with your life's journey for yourself.
We all struggle. We all stumble. We all fall. We all fuck up. We all get tired. We all don't know what we're doing. We all flail around aimlessly. We all make the wrong choice. We all look "better" to outside viewers than we see of ourselves. We see the sloppiest parts of ourselves whereas most others don't, so that's why it's easy to be the most critical with yourself and start bashing on yourself. But I guarantee that my peers, shiny as their PhDs might look, have probably had nights where they've cried into their pillows, or been frazzled, or been at bad low points, or wished they were anyone else. And I wish them the best and emotional security, but what it means is: we're all some level of fucked up anyway. Some people have worse struggles than others, and that needs to be respectfully recognized, but at the end of the day, we're all human and we all struggle and our pains are all real things we experience. The pain is real and it's valid to feel bad over it. The best we can do is give ourselves a break, stop tormenting ourselves internally over our natural inability to be perfect, and when we have the strength, to give love and support to others so they don't stumble as bad as we did.
I want to relate to you by saying... I think I was constantly clueless, confused, anxious, and apprehensive in the first half of my twenties. It sucked and I'm sorry if things suck for you.
Somehow....... I think a switch was flipped somewhere when I got more years of "adulthood" under way. The switch flipped from "I hate that I don't know what I'm doing" to "ehhh, whatever, life is life." Now, it's not to say I'm more organized. I'm not. My refrigerator has more mold than food. There's a horrible smell coming from the kitchen sink where water's been resting in a dirty pot for several days. My laundry is scattered all over the floor and I've run out of pairs of clean underwear... ran out several days ago. Don't ask what I'm wearing. I don't know the last time I've vacuumed and my place looks like a tornado zone. It took me several months to have the mental energy to schedule my first COVID shot, and I often have to cancel my banjo lessons like an unreliable buttfart because something Came Up In Life Just Now. In many ways, my life is still a chaos zone. I think I'm getting better (I've earned a ton of money in my savings account the last two years, victory!!! I'm no longer living month-to-month!!!). But I just want to say in all this.... it's okay. It's not preferable that my house is disorganized piles of crap on the floor, but I can continue to live. If we manage to wake up, get ourselves food, do hours of work, then we have achieved adulthood, and everything else is icing on the cake.
In the end, I think "stability" in adulthood is being semi-comfortable with instability. Adulthood just means handling unstable shit, and if we're novices with it, so be it. Maybe as your life goes forward, things will be less tiring and less confusing. Maybe things will be more stable. Or maybe not. Maybe the same problems will keep coming around. But I think adulthood is the ability to accept that these problems come around, and handle them, even if you aren't 100% a master at the novel circumstances.
And over time, I do believe it gets easier. <3 It takes more to rock the boat. It takes more to daunt you. The things that were initially anxiety-causing become a part of everyday affairs, and when a new novel circumstance comes up, you're more mentally prepared to try on something new. I encourage you to keep at it, my friend. I hope things feel better over time. It's okay that you aren't sure what you're doing right now. Maybe someone can help you in the present day. Maybe in the future you'll know what you're doing with tasks that previously confused you. Maybe in the future, the new weird tasks won't feel as daunting. Adulthood is weird and we don't know what we're doing, but that doesn't mean that life is going to fuck us through that.
In the end, you will still have beauty in your life. No matter what, beauty will exist in its simplest forms, and the simplest forms are the best. You don't need to achieve anything to get there. You don't need to be put together (although being put together is nice and something I want to help my friends feel <3 ). You don't need to look impressive in society. If you see a beautiful sunset, if you see a cluster of cute mushrooms, if you pet a cat or dog or animal of your choice, if you spend twenty minutes talking with your friend on voice call, if you read a good book for half an hour in the morning, if you buy yourself a tasty $4 drink to treat yourself, then your adult life is worth it, and your adult life is enough. <3
#uff-dah and like always I fail at brief#long post#sending you love friend and hopefully this doesn't accidentally come off weird tone-wise in any way <3#blabbing Haddock#hope something okay was said in there#non-dragons#my life#ask#ask me#awesome anonymous friend#anonymous
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Fanatics 87.3
Awkwardness abounds as Squee and Johnny and Devi spend time with their younger selves.
AU is Johnny the Recovering Maniac by the marvellous @devnny Check them out!
*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*
--
Lost in the Multiverse Part 3
Squee scrambles backwards, tripping over the edge of the crater he created when he crashed into the ground. As his head hits the dirt, he spots the large, purple rift hanging in the sky and stares at it with surprise.
“Okay,” he breathes and sits up. The young Todd Casil stands on the other side of the crater, clutching his Shmee and staring at Squee with wide eyes.
“O…kay…” Squee grunts and stands up, looking around. He’s on Grave Road. If it wasn’t for his younger self standing a couple feet away, he would almost believe he didn’t go anywhere. But he starts spotting small differences. Johnny’s house doesn’t have any glass in the boarded windows; the house that Colton’s family would be living in doesn’t have any of the flowers his mother plants. Instead it would be Todd’s family there now.
“Okay,” Squee says a third time. “So I’m in…the past? But where is everyone else?”
He looks at Johnny’s house. It looks dark and quiet and his car isn’t parked on the street. He hesitates for a second before crossing the yards and knocking on the front door. There’s no answer.
“Hm,” Squee hums and scratches his head, wondering what he should do, when a shiver runs up his spine. He looks up at the rift in the sky just in time to see a bunch of figures flying out. Two of them head right for him.
A pair of demons land on the ground between Squee and Todd. Their bodies are mostly human, but they have wings, tails, horns, and claws. They chortle excitedly as they glare at Squee and he flinches back.
Todd squeaks fearfully and one of the demons turns towards him, licking his fangs. Squee scowls and draws his knives.
He strikes first, startling the other demon as he charges. He barely dodges Squee’s swinging knife, the blade just grazing his nose.
The first demon turns his attention away from Todd as his partner stumbles back. But before he can react, Squee drives his knife into the demon’s ribs.
The demon roars in pain and tries to swipe at Squee with his claws. He lets go of his knife, leaving it in the demon’s chest, and jumps back to dodge.
The other demon charges in and swings at Squee. He sidesteps it and swings his other knife, slicing the demon straight up the chest. As his blood sprays out, the demon chokes and falls backwards.
The first demon rushes Squee and swings at him furiously with both claws. Squee dodges each strike and lifts his knife. The demon slices his hand on the blade, ceasing his attack, then Squee swings and slices open his throat. The demon collapses next to his partner.
Squee pants as he removes his other knife from the demon’s chest, then wipes both blades off on their clothes. As he sheathes them, he spots Todd staring at him with a mix of fear and awe, and he suddenly feels very bashful.
“Um,” he croaks, rubbing the back of his head, then clears his throat. “Are you…okay?”
Todd nods wordlessly.
“Good,” Squee nods and glances at Johnny’s house. “Um…where’s your neighbor?”
“He…moved away,” Todd replies.
“He did?”
“I think so? At least for a little while. He said he’s staying with a friend; a girl, with purple pigtails.”
“Devi?” Squee questions. “They’re living together? That’s…different. I wonder if she’s in the same place.”
“Um…” Todd squeaks and carefully approaches Squee. “Are you…me?”
Squee smiles awkwardly. “I think so.”
He stares up at him with wonderstruck eyes and Squee looks away uncomfortably.
“Um, I gotta go,” he says as he steps back and nearly trips on one of the demon’s bodies. He looks at them, then the rift in the sky, then back at Todd. “Uh…do you…wanna come?”
Todd looks at the demon bodies, then at Shmee, then back at Squee and nods. “Shmee says you’re safe.”
“He does, huh?” Squee grins and pats the bear’s head. Physically, he looks like a smiling teddy bear. But he can feel Shmee’s presence inside. And he smiles. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Where’s your Shmee?” Todd asks as they walk down the street.
“He’s back home,” Squee replies, “at least, I think he is. I’m not really sure. But I hope he’s enjoying himself.”
“So where are we going?”
“To find my friends. I think I know where to look.”
Meanwhile, Johnny and Devi make their way through younger!Devi’s apartment building, younger!Devi, younger!Tenna, and younger!Johnny at their heels. As they go up the stairs, Johnny glances back at them, unnerved.
“So, this can’t be like our direct past, right?” he questions, “cause I’m like eighty percent certain we never lived together. Also, there’s no fucking way I’d let you put a leash on me.”
“Hey! It’s for his own good!” younger!Devi snaps, tugging on the leash that she has around younger!Johnny’s neck as he looks at her awkwardly. Johnny just scowls with discomfort.
“I don’t know,” Devi replies, “are there like multiple pasts?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Johnny grunts.
They arrive at younger!Devi’s apartment and she lets them all in. It looks about the same as Devi’s apartment, but with more drawing stuff cluttering the coffee table and couch.
Younger!Devi removes younger!Johnny’s leash and heads deeper into the apartment. As Devi and Johnny look around, they find themselves standing next to younger!Johnny. Both Johnnys flinch away from each other in disgust and younger!Johnny follows younger!Devi while Johnny moves over to the other side of Devi.
“I hate this,” he growls, “I had a hard enough time learning to tolerate my physical being. Now there’s another one and on top of being another me, he’s a younger version, which just serves as a reminder of my…worser days.”
“He seems to be doing okay,” Devi remarks as she watches younger!Johnny hang around younger!Devi in the kitchen. “Kinda…clingy though.”
“And how are you doing?” Johnny asks.
“Huh? Oh, well, you know, I mean…” she stammers awkwardly. “It’s…definitely weird. But I’m okay. I mean, who cares that she’s a few years younger than me and I clearly haven’t progressed at all in my art career. I’m still working at it. And that takes time, right? So…so yeah. I’m okay.”
Johnny watches her worriedly as she looks away, rubbing the back of her neck.
“My hair looks good though,” she comments.
Johnny cracks a grin. “Yeah, it does.”
“Thanks.”
On top of just looking a bit older, there a few more differences between the two pairs of Johnny and Devi. Devi’s hair is the most noticeable. Younger!Devi still has purple pigtails, while the older Devi has her natural black colour and wears it down, with one side cut shorter than the other. Johnny’s hair is scruffier than younger!Johnny’s and he seems less volatile but somehow more grumpy.
The biggest difference however is how the two of them act together. While younger!Devi and younger!Johnny are comfortable around each other, they still seem very aware of each other’s presences. For Johnny and Devi, it’s the exact opposite. They’re standing much closer together, in each other’s space and brushing up against each other without even noticing.
These are all things younger!Tenna notices as she observes the older pair from the couch.
“Are you two dating?” she asks.
“What!” Johnny and Devi exclaim in shock.
“I just thought because it looks like you spend a lot of time together,” she clarifies.
“Well…we do…but we’re not-we never-it’s not like that-,” they both stammer awkwardly. Then they stop as they realize how close they’re standing, and they step apart.
“Um, okay,” younger!Devi says, mercifully interrupting the awkward situation as she walks in carrying a plate of crackers and cheese and a bag of chips while younger!Johnny carries two glasses of soda. They rest them on the coffee table. “I don’t have much food to offer but uh help yourself.”
“Wow, younger!Devi’s a better host than you are,” Johnny comments as he sits on the floor by the table and takes a glass.
“Fuck off,” Devi grunts as she follows suit.
They also bicker like siblings or an old married couple, younger!Tenna observes.
“So,” younger!Johnny says as he and younger!Devi sit on the couch. “Are you two just gonna…stay here…?”
Johnny and Devi glance at him then look at each other questionably.
“You’re the one who wanted to guard them,” Johnny points out.
“Yeah, because it wouldn’t be fair if those demon fucks killed them because they’re after us,” Devi retorts, “but, I don’t know. I don’t know where the others are. Should we look for them?”
“Where would we start?” Johnny shrugs.
“Then maybe it would be better if we stayed here, at least for the night,” she muses, “maybe they’ll come looking for us. Then it’d be better to stay in one place.”
“So you’re gonna stay the night?” younger!Johnny asks with obvious disgust.
“I mean, if that’s okay,” Devi adds.
“Well, you did save us,” younger!Devi says, “and I guess I can’t just kick you out since you’re…me. But I don’t know where you’ll sleep.”
“I don’t need to sleep,” Johnny states.
“Where do you sleep?” Devi asks younger!Johnny.
“On the rare occasion I do, the couch,” he replies, “but you can have it.”
“Thanks,” she smiles and younger!Johnny feels his cheeks flush.
“So you two really live together?” Johnny questions.
“It’s temporary,” younger!Devi replies.
“How did that happen?”
“I’m helping him recover.”
“Huh. So kinda like what Squee did for me,” Johnny muses, “I’m surprised though that you’re so…forgiving.”
“Yeah,” younger!Devi says, “it took a while for me to…get past all that. To be honest, I’m still not sure if I’m completely past it. But he did apologize.” She looks at younger!Johnny and smiles. “Which I appreciate.”
Younger!Johnny smiles awkwardly and fidgets in his seat.
“Hm,” Johnny grunts thoughtfully and glances at Devi. “Did I ever…apologize to you?”
“Not in so many words,” she replies.
He looks away, rubbing his head. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”
Devi smiles warmly and leans into him so their shoulders touch. “I know.”
Tenna glances between the pairs of Johnny and Devi. “Wow, I’ve never been a fifth wheel before.”
Both pairs quickly look away and move away from each other, feeling very uncomfortable and aware. Awkwardness fills the air and Johnny grumbles, “I hate this.”
#invader zim#invader zim fanfiction#johnny the homicidal maniac#johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction#iz jthm crossover#myocs#myart
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Little Fall of Rain | Peter Parker
masterlist found here
pairing - Peter x reader
word count - 2,828
warnings - ANGST ANGST ANGST
A/N - I watched Les Mis yesterday and got way deep in my feels and decided to write this
summary - You love Peter so much, and when he falls for your best friend, you have a hard time handling it. Who knew so much could go wrong so fast?
“(Y/N)! Wait up!”
You closed your locker and looked down the hall to see Peter running over to you. You smiled as he accidentally bumped into someone, paused to help them pick up their things, and continued his jog in your direction. “Hey,” you said with a chuckle. “What’s up?”
“You’re pretty close to MJ, right?” he asked.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yeah? I guess.”
“Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?” he asked. Your heart dropped a bit, but you maintained your poker face.
“I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”
“Has she ever-” He hesitated. “Well, we’ve been talking a little more lately, and I, I kind of have a crush on her?” The tips of his ears turned pink, but despite the embarrassment, he kept talking. “I just can’t tell if she feels the same way about me.” He looked at you expectantly, but you just stared at him blankly. “Could you maybe ask her? Not obviously,” he quickly added. “Just, see if you can casually drop it into a conversation.”
“Seriously?” you said.
“I’d owe you big time,” he said. “Please, (Y/N)?”
You hated his fucking puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” you said, giving him a tight smile. “Sure.”
“Ah, you’re the best!” he said, giving you a tight, eager hug. You relished in the feeling of his arms around you for a second before he let go and gave you a bright smile.
You and Peter had been good friends for a long time. Since elementary school. You developed a crush on him around middle school, and now you were seniors in high school, and the feelings were just as strong as ever.
And now he liked MJ? Your other best friend? And you were just supposed to accept that? You certainly couldn’t tell him how you felt, and you couldn’t just lash out at him or ignore his wishes. It wouldn’t be a big deal. MJ definitely didn’t like Peter, so once you let him down easy, you could be his shoulder to cry on.
“Peter likes me?” MJ asked, her face lighting up when you told her.
Okay, so maybe you had some things wrong.
“Yeah,” you said. “I know, it’s weird, right? I’ll just tell him you don’t-”
“No, no!” MJ said quickly. “No, I do. Like him, I mean. I like him. I have for a while. I just had no idea he felt the same! He’s so shy and awkward, you know?”
“Well, I mean, you’re a little awkward too,” you mumbled.
“Maybe that’s why our relationship would work,” she joked. You gave a half-hearted laugh, which MJ didn’t notice. “Will you talk to him for me?” she asked. You held back a sigh and just raised your eyebrows.
“And say what?” you asked.
“Just, I don’t know,” she said, suddenly a little bashful. “Tell him I like him. Maybe he’ll ask me out if he hears from you that I like him too.”
You groaned dramatically, knowing MJ wouldn’t think anything of it. “Fine.”
“Yes, you’re the best!” she said.
“Mhm,” you hummed. “I know.”
High school relationships rarely lasted. Sure, maybe Peter and MJ would go on one date, but it wouldn’t go anywhere. All you’d have to do in the end would be provide them both with shoulders to cry on.
“She doesn’t feel the same way. Sorry Pete.”
The lie rolled off your tongue, and there was no way you could take it back. Peter’s shoulders dropped, and you swallowed back the guilt creeping up your throat.
“Oh,” he said. “I guess that’s fine. Thanks for doing that for me.” The two of you were standing at your lockers, waiting for the bell to ring. “I think I’m, uh-” He hesitated as the bell chimed through the speakers. “I’m gonna head home. I’ve had a headache all day.”
“But you still have sixth and seventh pe-”
“I’ll see you later, okay?” he said. You nodded and watched him walk through the front doors of the school, skipping class like it didn’t matter at all. And that was so not like Peter Parker. Okay, so maybe you had broken his heart a little bit, but he’d heal.
After school that day, you headed home to the Barton’s house. You were an Avenger, and Clint was the one who had discovered you. He saw you kicking some mugger’s ass in an alley, and at first, you just appeared like a tough teenager. Then, you bolted from the scene in a blur of speed, and a wave of emotion hit him as he was reminded of Pietro. Instantly, he knew you were a hero worth pursuing. When he found out you were a homeless teenager, he wouldn’t have it. He brought you into his home when you were 14, and now three years later, you basically were a member of the family.
“I’m home,” you called when you opened the front door. You found Clint and Laura in the kitchen, and the kids were all sitting at the kitchen table eating their after-school snacks.
“Hi!” Nate called. You smiled and waved at him, then approached all three of them to give them high fives in greetings.
You fished through the cupboards for a mug to make something to drink, mumbling an, “Excuse me,” to Clint who was standing in front of the cupboard.
“You okay?” Laura asked, chuckling slightly. You sighed and leaned up against the kitchen counter.
“I think I did something stupid,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.
“You think?” Clint teased. You rolled your eyes. “Whoa,” he said, a slight frown growing on his face. “I didn’t even get a playful smile. This is serious.”
“Ugh,” you whined. “Can I have some tea?”
Laura laughed. “Of course. You two go in the living room and chat. I’ll bring you your drink when it’s ready.”
You thanked her and walked through the house to plop on the couch. When the kids were finished in the kitchen, they headed to their rooms to work on homework, so you and the two adults were alone.
“You know Peter,” you said.
“Parker?” Clint clarified. You nodded.
“You’ve got a crush on him, right?” Laura asked, handing you your tea.
“Laura,” you whined.
Clint laughed. “You think we didn’t notice?”
“Ugh!” you said for the second time since you arrived at their house.
You spilled everything. You told them about how Peter liked MJ and MJ liked Peter but you convinced him she didn’t just because you were jealous and desperately in love with your best friend. “I don’t know what to do,” you said, hyper-aware of the fact that you were holding back tears. You felt pathetic. “I know I messed up, but if I lose him to MJ, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Clint sighed. “You should’ve just told him how you felt, (Y/N).”
“What would that’ve done except humiliate me?” you asked.
“Why do you say that?” Laura asked.
“Because he doesn’t like me back,” you said. “And this isn’t one of those cliche stories where he actually does. Peter very clearly likes MJ, so what would telling him how I feel do except break my own heart and make things awkward between us?”
“At least he wouldn’t have made you play match-maker between him and MJ,” Clint said. Laura nodded in agreement.
“Well what do I do now?” you asked. Clint and Laura shared a look that you couldn’t decipher.
“You know you have to tell him the truth,” Laura said. “If you really care for him like you say you do, you should tell him how MJ really feels.”
“You owe him that much,” Clint added.
“Ugh,” you groaned again. “I hate when you guys are right.”
“Then why do you talk to us about this kind of stuff?” he teased. “Because we’re always right.”
“You know, one of these days I’m just going to ask you to lie.”
Clint laughed and gave you a quick side hug. “It’s movie night,” he said. “You wanna pick?”
“Come on,” you scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?”
That weekend, chaos ensued. Not in terms of your high school drama, but in the greater scheme of things. You know, like end-of-the-world chaos. Hydra had been working to program a new army of killer-super-soldiers, each designed to kill anyone they saw as a threat: government officials, millionaires and billionaires, CEOs of major companies, and, of course, the Avengers.
So there you were, suiting up at the compound on a cloudy Saturday afternoon. When you were ready, you joined the others in the boardroom. You sat beside Peter who gave you a small smile. Things between the two of you had been weird since you told him about MJ on Tuesday. Your routines didn’t change. You still ate lunch together, waited for each other by your lockers in the morning, and worked together on chemistry homework, but the vibes were different. You really had upset him by lying about MJ, and everyday you felt more and more guilty about it. “You okay?” you asked him, keeping your voice soft. His smile was just as small as it had been when you first sat down.
“Always,” he said.
“Okay,” Tony said, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “The soldiers’ programming is a lot like Bucky’s. So there’s no way to reason. Unless you can condense Shuri’s work into a millisecond action, these people are lost causes. All we can do is shoot first and capture them if we can.”
“The primary goal is to save the citizens,” Steve added. “Wanda and Clint are on evacuation. Nat and Bruce are working with local officers. We found Whitehall and Bakshi’s command center, so Bucky and I are going to head there and take them down. The rest of you are on the ground in the battle. Save as many civilians as you can, and watch each other’s backs.” You all nodded and chorused back various agreements, then stood up to head to your stations. As you and Peter started to leave the compound, you stopped him.
“What’s up?” Peter asked. “We gotta go.”
“You’re acting weird,” you said. “And it’s bumming me out. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“We don’t have time for this,” he said. “Mr. Rogers said-”
“I don’t care what he said,” you huffed. “You’re my best friend, and I don’t like seeing you this way.”
He sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about MJ. I really thought she liked me, (Y/N).” You licked your lips and let a puff of air out of your nose.
Sure, maybe you needed to tell him you lied, but now was not the time to do so.
“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry, Pete. Try not to let it get to you. At least not right now. After the battle, I’ll sit with you and eat ice cream while we watch a cheesy rom com.” This managed to make Peter laugh a little, so you gave him a side hug and made your way out of the compound.
The fight was crazy. Not only were there super soldiers on your ass, you were crazy outnumbered by members of Hydra. “How are we looking on the battlefield?” Steve asked through the coms.
“Sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard,” Shuri said.
“Like sure, we’re trying,” Peter added.
“But it’s almost effortless,” you finished.
“I hate you guys,” Sam said.
“Can anyone answer me seriously?” Steve asked.
“Did we get a specific count on how many soldiers there are?” Strange asked. “Because we seem to kill one and it’s like two more take their place.”
“Yeah, well, that’s kind of their thing,” Bucky said.
You were getting frustrated. This shouldn’t have been a difficult mission. Hell, you defeated Thanos! Maybe you were all a little off your game at this point, worn out from the big universe-saving event. Now, simple Hydra agents were kicking your ass. Shouldn’t Steve and Bucky have gotten to Whitehall and Bakshi by now?
You took a deep breath and wiped some sweat from your forehead as you got rid of all the agents around you. When you glanced in Peter’s direction, you saw he was struggling. He was fighting off one of the super soldiers, and while Peter was strong and had his Iron Spidey suit, the soldier had serum running through his veins. It was a pretty equal fight. And Peter was so busy with that soldier that he didn’t notice the Hydra agent approaching him from behind. Your eyes grew wide, and you called Peter’s name. He either didn’t hear you or was too busy to turn. So, you mustered up your super speed, rushed behind him, and took the bullet meant for him in your stomach.
Peter heard the shot ring out and felt your body slump against him. He turned and yanked the gun out of the agent’s hands with his web and shot a taser web at his heart. Tony approached to help with the super soldier, so Peter collapsed to your side. “(Y/N),” he said.
He felt like everything fell silent. He didn’t know what was happening. All he saw was your limp body and the blood gushing through your shirt. You put your hand on the wound and winced, then felt a drop of rain hit your nose. Just like that, it started to pour, making the blood soak into your suit faster. You could just make out the rest of the team speaking in the coms.
“We got Whitehall and Bakshi,” Steve said. “How’s it-”
“(Y/N)’s down!” Peter cried. “We, I don’t know, shit!”
“What happened?” Clint asked.
“Gunshot,” he said. “In, in the stomach. It’s-” He cut himself off with a shaky breath.
“All super soldiers are down,” Thor said. “We’re all coming to you now.”
Peter held you in his arms and pushed some hair from your face. “What were you thinking?” he whispered. Before you could say anything, a rumble of thunder sounded and he added, “We gotta get you out of this rain.”
“Pete,” you laughed breathlessly, “a little fall of rain isn’t going to hurt me now, and you know it.”
“Don't talk like that,” he said, his voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay.” You felt blood drip out of your mouth, and Peter wiped it away.
“MJ likes you,” you said.
“What?” Peter asked, keeping his hand on your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I lied to you. MJ really likes you. I just didn’t want to tell you.” He opened his mouth like he was about to ask why, but he figured it out just as fast.
“(Y/N),” he whispered. “We can get you help. Just-”
“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Nothing hurts, and-” You paused and smiled weakly. “You’re here, and that’s all I need. Just don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he whispered, pushing some more hair away from your face. Tears mixed with the rain hitting his face, and his body was shaking now. “If I could make all of this go away just by reminding you how much I love you, I would.”
“Just hold me,” you said. “It’s okay.”
The others were starting to walk over to the pair of you, but Peter didn’t move from your side. He rocked you softly in his arms. “I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep,” he whispered. “Don’t worry.” You were quiet for a moment, and he feared he already lost you. Then, you spoke again, so softly it was barely audible.
“Peter?” you asked.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Will you do something for me?” you said.
“Anything.”
You swallowed thickly and let your eyes flutter closed. “Kiss me when I’m gone,” you whispered. “I’ll feel it.”
“(Y/N)-”
“You know what, Peter Parker?” you said, cutting him off. You forced your eyes open and gave him one last smile. “I think I’ve always been in love with you.”
Peter could see the life leave your eyes. Still, he sniffed and pressed his hand to your cheek. “(Y/N)?��� he croaked out. “Please. Please, wake up.”
“Pete,” Tony said, resting his hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“No,” he cried. “No. She’s okay. She has to be okay.”
Peter looked at the man behind him, then over his shoulder at all the others watching. They all looked devastated. Clint was standing with his back to the scene, his shoulders visibly shaking. Nat stood beside him and rubbed his back. Peter blinked back some more tears and looked back down at you. He closed your eyes with the pads of his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered.
Peter never loved you the way you loved him, but there was still love there. Now, holding your limp body in his arms, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever love again.
----- ----- ----- -----
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One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader
Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.
Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics
Word Count: 6.7K swipes left
Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!
-
“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.
All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”
You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.
“Come on, the boys are waiting.”
Right.
You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.
Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.
Leaving you single, alone, and second best.
It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”
You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.
It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.
Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.
Then there’s you, of course.
The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.
The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.
God, I wish that were me.
There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.
You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?
You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances.
Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”
“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder.
Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.
Tonight you just don’t feel like it.
Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.
“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”
Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.
Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.
“Hey.”
You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”
K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”
He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.
K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”
“Sure.”
And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.
You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.
“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.
“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.
“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”
“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.
“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”
You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”
His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.
They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein.
“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”
And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.
It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.
You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.
“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Today, but not tomorrow.
It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.
“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.
“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.”
He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything.
“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”
You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff. But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.
“Not in the mood,” you huff.
“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.
You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.
It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times.
I missed that.
You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?
“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.
As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.
The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.
Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.
This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.
You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”
It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?
The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air. Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.
You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again.
And you let yourself think, I want that again.
So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.
You downloaded Tinder.
-
You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.
Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.
This time.
At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.
It’s tiring.
And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.
Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways.
“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.
Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable––
“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”
And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.
You blink as you reflect.
This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.
But, at least you’re bored enough to try.
So, what the fuck, right?
“Did you tell Liza and K yet?”
“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.
Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”
Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.
He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”
“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.
“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys.
-
Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.
It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.
You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.
You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.
Pretty wack.
You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.
You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering,
“Just one more.”
Ah.
>> check out the whole bio here <<
“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.
After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.
“It’s a match!”
Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.
You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable.
You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.
Okay...
Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.
But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.
You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.
You’ll deal with it in the morning.
Good night.
And the gears were set in motion as you slept.
You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch.
“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.
T: Hey
Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.
You: Hey!
You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.
And it’s a goddamn mess.
T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.
Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.
T: I’m trying to get over my ex
UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…
T: And you look a lot like her.
Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.
You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.
T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say
You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that
T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.
You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose.
You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.
You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???
T: Yeah, just private
You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol
T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there
You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude
And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.
Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.
T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?
You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)
You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.
Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though.
You’re wary.
You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.
Maybe.
T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?
You: maybe if you show me your face first
T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you
You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?
(Yes. Yes it is.)
You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.
It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.
You: as long as you can hold my attention :)
T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)
–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.
Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)
You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T
BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?
You: ew
BB: o come on. It’s cute
You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it
BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)
You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever
Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.
And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.
BB:
But you are ruthless.
You: ok. Send me another one.
And he could stop if he wanted to.
Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.
BB:
Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....
But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.
But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.
Phew.
You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.
BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself
You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)
BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting
You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back
BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)
You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos. 🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?
BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty
You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”
He replies before you have the chance.
BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now
You: yeah, i feel that
It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.
BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess
You: *a confident fucking mess
BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)
You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse
You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.
BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?
You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back.
Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two.
You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner.
He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.
So, whatever, right?
-
MONDAY MORNING
BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)
You: well you sure get up early. Good morning
BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?
You: coffee most days. You?
BB: i drink tea, darling
You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.
BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup
You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?
BB: what, still too early?
You: never too early
BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?
You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.
BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.
You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?
BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago
You: staying long?
BB: long enough
You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all
BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute
You: and you chose here?
BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus
You: relentless
BB: and nothing less.
-
MONDAY EVENING
BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy
You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it
BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it
You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it
BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it
You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…
BB: you won’t regret it!
You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?
BB: reading emails and talking to you
You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude
BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately
You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”
BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now
You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week
BB: what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you
You: Nice to know
BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)
You: 😈 (devil emoji)
-
TUESDAY MORNING
BB: good morning!
You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)
BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)
You: right. What do you have planned today?
BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?
You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to
BB: you’ll recognize me
You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank…
BB: it’s not!
You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.
BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.
You: why?
BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.
You: Sorry? I don’t get it.
BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry.
You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this.
BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.
You: … That is really unfair.
BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon
You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….
BB: I’m not!
You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex
BB: I won’t!
You: you are SO lucky i’m patient
BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.
You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.
BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.
You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?
BB: a home away from home
You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?
BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart
You: ha ha
BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.
You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure
-
TUESDAY EVENING
You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?
BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa
You: obviously! Send a pic!
BB:
You: is this from right now?
BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.
You: aww, that’s too bad.
BB: would you come over if she were here?
You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.
BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date
You: ha ha. You miss home?
BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT
You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.
BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.
You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that
BB: You are. You’re still here
You: You are too.
BB: You already mean a lot to me
You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)
BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships
You: Interesting
BB: What?
You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me
BB: Guilty. You?
You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)
BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?
You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.
BB: Guess we both have a past to bury
You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”
BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀
You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.
BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?
You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me
BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)
-
WEDNESDAY MORNING:
BB: Good morning!
You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?
BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)
You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.
BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get
You: No I don’t!
BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)
You: I don’t!
BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you
You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)
BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)
-
PING!
“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.
Oh––
You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,
“No one important.”
You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.
BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??
“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”
“It’s because I’m not––” You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”
She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.
You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later.
You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.
And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.
You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.
He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.
And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday.
You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.
“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”
“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.
You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.
“It’s nothing, seriously.”
“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.
“No!”
Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.
You give in after a minute.
You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.
“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”
Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.
Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.
That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.
“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.
?
“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…
“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.
I don’t like this...
“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.
“But what?” You feel yourself recoil.
As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going.
But you can guess what’s coming next.
...
“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”
…
…
…
Wait…...
What?!
-
A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.
Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing.
Much Love,
Madmadmilk 💫
** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks!
#WAH#i'm laughing at the photos bro lol i might change them but i don't have time right now hahahaha#one after the one#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland imagine#tom holland blurb#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland reader#tom holland you#tom holland fics#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#tom holland imagines#tom holland writing#tom holland story#madmadmilk#OATO
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S3A - E9
The last episode took me Hours to get through with all my notes, let’s hope this one doesn’t hurt my fingers so bad.
My fingers hurt too much to come up with a clever pun so Read More:
Thoughts:
This is a dumb first bullet point, but I love Tara’s hair. It looks like it’s braided or something, then in a bun at the back? I like it.
What exactly was the reasoning for her walking into the school alone like this? Let alone going That far into it? If it’s a 911 call that she’s so nervous about she has her hand on her gun, then shouldn’t there be more than one officer??
ALSO, that seems like Very Bad routine procedure? You got a 911 call (but we get no explanation as to what it was FOR) and the first thing you say when you see someone is “Why are you here?” shouldn’t you be asking “Who made the 911 call?”
And then you tell them to leave, and to tell anyone Else they see to leave. When they could easily SEE the person you’re wanting to aim a gun at and TELL them to leave because there’s a cop in the school.
So I’m torn between Julia being just that sick and wanting to terrify each of her sacrifices (which...she talks about them like she’s Genuinely sad she had to kill them, but it was necessary to save the world, so that doesn’t sit right with me?) or fear being a Necessary part of the ritual, like, that the sacrifices Couldn’t be willing?
Honestly, Lyds, that’s so smart and reasonable. “I had to have the weird blackout to get here. YOU get to go find the body.”
What was the point of the staging in the shower room if she was gonna get thrown onto the sign?? Why move her at all?
ALSO if this is supposed to be a threefold death, then didn’t she do it wrong? She killed Tara by strangulating her, but didn’t do the head bash or the throat until after she’d moved her body, for some reason??? Don’t they need to happen like..near the same time?
No to mention that there wouldn’t be much blood bc her throat was slit After death, so the blood wasn’t pumping. Even laying her down wouldn’t render a large amount. But they’re going for horror, so...i guess i’ll let it pass.
Why does it feel like Julia is going after people close to STiles specifically? First Heather, now Tara? And then his Dad? That’s a weird coincidence when she’s got the entire town to choose from.
Also, sheriff, i love you, but ‘they’re not going to get away with killing one of our own.” is a REALLY fucked up line. Police getting pissed ONLY when other Police are the ones killed is SO FUCKED UP. Logistically, police are FAR more likely to get killed than citizens are, aren’t they? They’re the ones that’re supposed to be running into danger? Like, Soldiers don’t Only get pissed when other soldiers are killed, right? It’s literally like...your job to be in potentially fatal situations?
that’s not even my point! My point is that your line implies that law enforcement was Half-assing it before a cop got killed. half a dozen people have died, so Beacon Hills should be Swarming with cops, but for some reason the big guns don’t come in until a cop dies? Your phrasing sucks, Noah. Were you gonna let them get away with it if they killed everybody BUT the cops? I’m being sarcastic on that last bit, btw.
I’ll admit, it’s nice to get some actual SUNSHINE in CALIFORNIA
Is Chris letting Allison stay home because she saw a dead body? FOr as long as she wants? I’m so confused, she’s seen Much worse things, shouldn’t it like raise an alarm that she’s choosing NOW to stay home?
Your badassery is tainted by the fact that you’re wearing a dress and fishnets, Allison. If you’re gonna go hunting put on some pants. or shorts AT LEAST. that’s just not Practical.
I love how blatant a lie Stiles is telling Julia in class. “do you play?” “No, my father does” when we Know he plays, and besides if his dad plays then stiles MUSt because that’s a two person thing most of the time? But no, he doesn’t want Julia to know Shit about him.
the loyalty of Lydia not going near Aiden after learning he killed Boyd is SO refreshing. I TOLD you, if she knew Aiden was a murderer she’d never have gotten with him in the first place.
NOt Derek. CORA. MY BABE BONDS FAST. (I mean, she was locked in a bank vault with him for however long)
FIrst off, I love Stiles losing his shit. Second, the acting here is so sub-par, and it looks like a writer’s mistake.
okay, so, in acting, interruption is an ART. You have to let someone say enough to get their line across, but INterrupt them before they can finish in a way that looks natural. And you have to make sure not to come in late or you get an awkward pause (this is more common with newbies bc experience actors don’t stop their line, they keep it going until you figure it out.) So like The line is ...And shove it up your freaking--” Now, Scott needs to interrupt without being late, otherwise, unless Stiles Continues the line, he’ll pause after saying ‘freaking’ and it’ll be noticeable.
here, the way scott interrupts him feels So Wrong, in part because he let’s Stiles get so far into his threat.
Also, I’m fucking pissed that Scott is downplaying how angry Stiles is. “okay, we get it.” is just...a garbage way to respond to a friend who’s hurting and clearly on edge, thinking Ethan is threatening him.
Exactly How do you “Know” Ethan didn’t want to kill Boyd? You weren’t there, fuckface.
Is this set after school? They’re shouting their heads off and no one’s coming? Even Stiles was shouting about wolfsbane.
THAT IS NOT HOW ACTUAL WOLF PACKS WORK YOU FUCKER. THAT’S A GARBAGE MYTH.
Hearing Cora’s little gasp as her head hit the wall hurt my heart.
Normally I’d be pissed about the girl standing back and not doing anything, but Lydia would be ripped apart and I do not blame her for shouting from the sideline.
I don’t understand what the hell is going on with the Chris stuff. Like, I guess he’s supposed to be looking into it on his own, but that still doesn’t explain where he got the information on this very specific ritual.
But I do understand Allison’s hesitance to outright ask her father what the fuck he’s doing, since last time that happened she was taken to a chained up derek in an underground tunnel system. Finding out her family are monsters is kind of her entire life, unfortunately.
Honestly, fuck yes. Cora go off. Though, I’m sad that no one is mentioning Erica, like At All. You realize she ALSO died at the hands of the ALphas, right? why does no one mention her when they talk about getting revenge?
I...am not talking about this scene.
I gotta say that I enjoy the fact that Allison called Stiles. That’s just...that’s p cool. BUT while it’s cute that her contact picture is from her conversation with Stiles in s2, it’s weird bc it’s a screenshot of the show, and we know that Stiles wasn’t taking pictures at that moment. But the effort is sweet!
I will say that it’s interesting that Cora doesn’t fight Stiles about helping him with his dad. She just finished yelling at Scott, Lydia, and presumably Stiles, and she’s clearly unhappy with literally everyone but Derek, but she’s been very humoring of Stiles. In every scene together, even when she’s snarking at him, she’s not an Asshole.
This conversation with Morrell makes...no sense. Scott literally said in the last episode that good liars wouldn’t have jumping heartbeats when they lied. Then he immediately went to ask Morrell if she was the killer and believed her (even though she’s sketchy as fuck) just because her heart didn’t jump. Wtf?
“But if I kill someone, I can’t be a True Alpha, right?” WHO SAID THAT EVER? WHO TOLD YOU THAT? SINCE WHEN? WTF?
I don’t know if it was intentional (maybe they mention it, but i haven’t gotten that far) but technically having this history teacher disappear leaves an empty class for Kira’s dad to fill when she shows up. Which is neat.
I will forever be angry that Aiden is touching Lydia here. He shouldn’t be near her. And that’s not even me being cranky! She IS PISSED AT HIM. She was avoiding him before today and even then the only reason she went near him was to act as a distraction.
Also, again, I am amazed at Cora’s PATIENCE with Stiles here. Seriously, they’ve clearly been there for a while as Stiles tries to find the words, but Cora didn’t just get pissed stand up and say “I’m a werewolf. People are dying. Help.” She continued to wait for him to talk.
When does stiles rearrange his room? I swear in the beginning of this season it was still in the previous formation with the corner bed sticking out and the desk under the window. Now the desk is facing a totally different direction and his bed’s up against the wall. It’s great, but like, when does it happen? Isn’t this literally the second time we’ve seen his room the whole season?
that’s such a weird text. “Mr Westover Missing” like I don’t know if it’s from Lydia or Scott, but you’re allowed to add some detail? Your keystrokes aren’t limited and there are no government agencies watching your texts for information.
Oh, poor Cora. I honestly wasn’t expecting to bond with her so quickly when I first saw her, but there’s something about getting to see characters being calm that really helps me vibe with them? Like, when they’re nothing but Fight Fight Fight it’s hard to actually relate in any way, but when you actually get to see them talk or relax, then you worry about that being taken away from them.
However much I hate Isaac and everyone else Constantly saying “But I want Scott here. We should ask Scott, blah blah blah” I will say that it’s getting REALLY annoying that Allison’s entire personality is “I”m going to run in with almost zero backup bc I want to be powerful and strong, but then I have to be saved bc I refused to ask for help in the first place.”
Wtf do you mean ‘i’m not that good at this yet’ Isaac? You’ve been a werewolf for literally like 5 months, only like two months less than Scott, and you were LIVING with a born werewolf for that ENTIRE time.
Chris you were shooting at nothing for like two-thirds of that time. That was an empty room. ALSO, if you’ve been there the whole time, why did you wait until he was dead to come out shooting?
Chris yells “help Him” and you go run to stand next to his body without bothering to pull him off the cord around his neck? You realize he might not be completely dead right? Or is his throat already cut?
Also, I wanna note, it was daylight when Cora passed out. Now it’s dark! He went to the ER with her and STAYED with her. I get that people say STiles is kind of callous, but he Constantly goes out of his way for near strangers, and I don’t think that should be overlooked.
No youfcking wouldn’t have Chris, you had tons of time while they were using the garrotte and you just stood there. They came in just before the kill was done, and except for Tara Julia has been leaving people’s bodies where they fall so she wouldn’t left right after. You were NOT ‘this’ close.
Yeah, yeah, and you’re both fucking guilty of being incapable of conversation. Chris you are the adult here, fucking act like it. You had a million chances to confront your daughter and you didn’t. Apparently that’s a habit she picked up from you.
What are they talking about, Scott healing himself?? He was thrown back, he wasn’t injured. I literally just went back and rewatched that scene. He falls backward and he’s completely fine. Stiles, there are so many better instances you could point to. For example, things that actually Happened.
That line is never gonna not hurt.
Stop touching Danny. Stop being near Danny. You are a literal serial killer, get your hands off him. GOD. your brother literally said he would murder danny if he saw you with him anymore, why are you putting him in danger? FUck you.
.....okay, lydia’s speech was meaningful until she fucking turned it into scott worship. Why couldn’t you have stopped at letting her say “maybe I’ll find them before it happens” Why couldn’t it be about HER for once?
Why did you have to make it about how everyone thinks sunshine comes out Scott’s ass even though he’s literally not done a single thing to warrant it. He hasn’t Saved Anyone. He hasn’t done Anything to warrant all this trust.
Lydia wasn’t there when he made Derek kill Gerard. SHE was the one to save Jackson. And Scott was the one who had to be saved BOTH when Allison had to stitch him up and when Stiles had to go after him in the gasoline. Jackson is the one who saved Lydia when Peter went after her. Scott Didn’t save deaton, that was Noah. He wasn’t the one who killed Peter, that was a combination of Stiles and Jackson’s molotovs and Derek’s claws. Scott wasn’t even the one to protect Lydia when Derek and the pack went after her, that was Stiles, Allison, and Jackson. SHe had no idea that Scott was even THERE until she ran out of the house. Scott didn’t stop Matt, that was Allison’s family scaring him off and then Gerard killing him.
THe only possible thing that could count was him saving the two little kids while Boyd and Cora were running around in the woods, and Lydia doesn’t even KNOW about that.
Scott has canonically done NOTHING worth all this faith and ‘leader’ nonsense.
were...were they hinting at a Scott/Lydia relationship before they brought Kira in? Holding hands isn’t really a friend thing...?
That....is the softest most broken little ‘hey’ that I’ve ever heard and I’m Instantly on the verge of tears, holy shit.
Derek, honey, what do you mean ‘not again’? You’ve never left Cora, unless you count moving to New York with Laura and Cora was in South America! This line would make so much more sense if they’d given us Any idea what happened to Cora after the fire.
Normally, i’d be annoyed that Melissa is just ignoring the laws about paperwork. I’d even be annoyed that she did it for the Sheriff. BUT, Melissa is in the know about the supernatural and she KNOWS that the murders are supernatural.
I’m sorry but Supernatural needs trump human laws. Melissa is totally a boss for this.
EYYYY actual druid (specifically magician druids) thing they got right (though i’m not sure it was on purpose). Magician Druids were Very Well Known for their nature magic. For causing storms and droughts and high winds and fog. The building storm around the school is like, Peak magician magic.
God, it really....it really grinds my gears watching Isaac’s progression toward the most abuse he can find. You notice how, in season 2 when Derek was attacking the Betas on the regular and doing awful shit like breaking Isaac’s hands, Isaac was loyal as Fuck to him? (right up until randomly going to Scott to decide whether to leave town)
Then, this season, we start off with Derek being pretty fucking gentle, there’s no indication that he’s been continuing the abuse. Isaac questions his command and Derek’s response is ‘do you trust me?’ to which Isaac easily says yes. In fact, Isaac asks Derek to be the one to hurt him for the memory seeking thing, and Derek refuses because he wants to do what’s Safer for Isaac.Then he throws the glass and Isaac bails bc it’s a direct reminder of what his dad did.
Only he goes to Scott, who was incredibly violent toward him in the previous season. (And who we know will be violent toward him in the future as well) But the only time he lists away from Scott, is to go after Allison, who Tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat, and whose father inherently hates werewolves and is a constant danger to him.
Yet he never goes in the direction of people who Haven’t hurt him. He could go to Deaton, who’d taught him the pain-drain thing and was nothing but kind to him in that short time. He could’ve gone to Boyd after Derek’s lashing out, his pack member, who would never hurt him. Hell, he hates Stiles’ guts, but he could still have gone to him. Stiles was the one to help Derek free him from Jail after all, and he’s not wanted anymore so Noah wouldn’t have anything against him. Stiles may have threatened Isaac to keep him from hurting Lydia, but he never personally laid a hand on him.
But he went to Scott. Someone who’s beaten him bloody multiple times.
So, really focusing on the details here, but on Julia’s death record, her ‘jane doe’ occupation is listed as “Child” Oh, and apparently there was Froth present on the body.
Okay, so I think I understand what they’re saying. The reason Julia lived after getting to the hospital was because the birds sacrificed themselves and their life force kept her holding on. Now, either this was a spontaneous thing, and the birds did it For her. Or she Made them, because we know she doesn’t need to Be There to control weird shit. She could’ve set it up before she left the Nemeton or passed out or whatever.
My confusion is. If that’s the explanation for the bird suicides, then what the Fuck happened on the first day when all the birds came crashing through the window?? There was no reason for that to happen. She was totally fine! And doing it to frighten people doesn’t make sense because she set off the radars of everything supernatural in town. (And Stiles.)
This kind of mass mind-control is kind of insane and makes the situation with Derek just That much more awful. I am so sickened.
Now, on the subject of the chanting, I assume it’s part of the ritual since it’s present at the deaths so much. The question is, where did Julia Get it? THOUGHTS: This chant isn’t present at any of the virgin kills. It’s not there with Heather, and while we don’t see the boy at the pool’s abduction/death, Emily Also didn’t hear it during her hallucination.
What if it’s part of the virgin sacrifice perk? Like, Julia could Only Use it after killing the virgins, because it’s got some kind of mind-control thing about it?
Wh--why didn’t Julia tape her arms down before she woke up? Why make the garrotte before ensuring her victim couldn’t Punch her in the face??
I thought you JUST said she wasn’t going to be a sacrifice?
Still confused. You didn’t sacrifice Lydia, so that doesn’t count as the third philo, but then the teacher who died onstage wasn’t a threefold death, or the hanging thing, they just got their throat cut and they were poisoned. So....what? Was that supposed to count as your sacrifice?
Nobody TOUCHES Noah, who managed to be the only fucking cop on tv i’ve ever seen follow sensible procedure which is to shoot them in the fucking leg when they walk toward you menacingly, rather than threatening to shoot them in the head and doing nothing.
Final Thoughts:
There was a lot in this episode that didn’t make sense. It’s very clearly an amping up for the finale thing, but it’s annoying that after all this time they’ve essentially made the Alpha pack a time waster. The whole thing with getting Derek in the pack is relatively meaningless now that there’s a Darach going after the Alphas. I dunno, feels kinda off.
Anyway, onward.
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I won’t go home without you
Summary/Prompt: “roommates au: where peter is tony's roomate for about a year. Peter has feelings for tony and decides to seduced him even though he has an on and off relationship with pepper”
Word count: 13.7K+
Warnings: Explicit, nff, underage drinking, loss of virginity, jealous!Tony, violence (just a boys fight, not between starker), a little angst with a happy ending. Can’t think of anything else, if you find anything triggering, please let me know!
No Pepper bashing! In this house, we stan Pepper Potts, thanksbye.
*
“I swear to God, Tony, sometimes you make it impossible to love you!”
Peter could hear Pepper’s voice through the door, she sounded furious and upset, which was unusual for her. She was always so – put together. Like she had it all figured out. She was classy and elegant, smart, beautiful and polite. She was the perfect woman, the perfect girlfriend. Peter still felt a little embarrassed to think that when he met Tony, almost a year earlier, he actually thought he might stand a chance with him. A few days later, he met Pepper and it dawned on him that the older boy was way, way out of his league.
“Wow, fuck, I’m so sorry it’s such a hardship to be with me! Why the fuck don’t you just go!?”
They met on their first day at MIT. It was the best day of Peter’s life, he’d always dreamed of going there, but he never actually thought he’d get in. And even if he did, he knew he’d never be able to afford it, so when he got the scholarship, it was like a dream come true – May was really proud. He was so nervous about meeting his roommate, he was afraid it would be some stuck-up, rich, little genius who’d make fun of him for his worn-out clothes, beat-up phone and used textbooks.
“That’s because you keep coming after me with your bullshit promises and lies, and I’m an idiot for falling for that!”
Tony was nothing like Peter had dreaded. He was so cool and laid-back, when he walked into the room the younger boy was immediately smitten with him. Peter noticed he wore nice clothes and his bags looked really expensive, but he was so nice to him. He introduced himself, let Peter choose which bed he would like to sleep in, he even took him out for coffee and they explored campus together. Tony was handsome and charming and an absolute flirt, by the end of the day, Peter was helplessly in love with him, he would write songs and poems about the older boy if he had any talent – unfortunately, he didn’t.
“Go on, then, leave, that’s all you ever do anyway. And don’t worry, I won’t call, we’re done for good this time.”
He remembered spending the next few days thinking of ways to ask Tony out. He rehearsed what to say in front of the mirror – it was terrible –; he looked through his clothes to see if he had anything nice enough to wear to a date – he didn’t –; he even went as far as to try and tame his curls the day he was supposed to ask him out – it was hopeless –, but it was all for nothing, because when he got back to their room that evening, with sweaty palms and wobbly knees, he found Tony kissing that gorgeous, cherry blonde vision that was Pepper Potts.
“You’re gonna end up alone, Tony, I mean it. If you don’t learn how to let others in, you’ll be lonely and bitter, and it’s gonna be all your own damn fault!”
And they made perfect sense together, they belonged to the same world. They were high school sweethearts, Pepper went to the same private school as Tony, her family was wealthy, just like his, she was tall and her nose was so fucking straight and perfect, just like her hair, and she had gorgeous blue eyes and she probably had beautiful clothes to go on dates with him, and they could go to expensive restaurants and split the tab and she’d be able to afford her half, and she could probably write poetry about him. They were just perfect together.
“This is bullshit and you know it, Pepper, you fucking know it!”
And still, when they weren’t together, Tony acted like Peter might have a chance. Like something could happen between them. Whenever Pepper dumped him – which had happened at least three times over the course of that year; four, if he counted that current fight – Tony would act different around Peter.
The younger man wasn’t sure if he was just imagining things – probably –, Tony was always sweet and a little flirty with everyone, but when he wasn’t with Pepper, it was – just different. He’d take Peter out on what other people might consider dates, his touches lingered for longer than necessary, he’d hug and kiss him whenever he had an excuse, they’d cuddle in bed to watch movies and eat pizza, it was just – weird. Good weird. Peter wasn’t complaining.
His friends seemed to think Tony saw Peter as a younger brother, Pepper thought so, too, but it wasn’t that, it wasn’t that at all. He noticed the way Tony looked at him sometimes, the way he stared at his ass when he turned around, the way his eyes lingered on his body when he changed into his pajamas at night. Tony wanted him, but for some reason he never made a move. Actually, he made several moves, but he never took the final step. It was like a very cruel, very drawn out foreplay that never led anywhere. Then he and Pepper made up and it was like nothing had ever happened.
“Have a good life, Tony.” Peter raised his head when Pepper’s voice got louder as she opened the door and walked right past him, she didn’t even notice his presence. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his headphones on – although nothing was playing – and his backpack and a few textbooks resting on his legs. He was just coming back from the library when he heard the yelling coming from inside the room, so he decided to wait outside, but that had been over an hour earlier. He was hungry and his back hurt when he finally turned to see Tony walking out of the room right behind Pepper.
“Good fucking riddance!” The older boy yelled at the blonde’s back, but she had already turned the corner. His eyes dropped to where Peter was sitting and he leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his naked chest. He looked so good, all fucked out, they were probably having sex before the fight, his hair was such a sexy mess, like someone – Pepper – had run their hands all over it. “How much of that did you hear?” The older boy asked, rubbing at his forehead, and Peter just shrugged with a small smile.
“Not much. Are you okay?” Tony reached down to help him with his backpack and textbooks as Peter got up from the floor, which proved to be a little challenging since his legs had fallen asleep. Tony held him by the waist when he almost stumbled back down, their chests touching. “S-sorry.”
“It’s okay, munchkin. And I’m peachy.” The older boy smiled a little sarcastically, but Peter didn’t mind, he knew it was just a defense mechanism. He had some of his own. “I’m sorry you had to wait outside. Let me buy you a drink?” He still didn’t let go of Peter’s waist and the younger boy realized it was gonna start all over again. All the heavy flirting that made him fall even harder in love with his roommate, that made his heart swell with hope, only to be crushed again when he and Pepper inevitably got back together. Great.
“Yeah, sure. Let me just put this stuff away,” he whispered under his breath, watching a dirty, lopsided smile forming on Tony’s gorgeous lips.
Fuck.
*
To Peter’s relief – and disappointment –, Tony had invited other people to join them. Rhodey, Thor, Bruce, Clint and Natasha were already at the bar when they arrived and, somehow, they seemed to already know what had happened. Rhodey, Tony’s oldest friend, made jokes about how he and Pepper would eventually get back together for the hundredth time and Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head emphatically.
“I mean it, I’m done with her, it’s just too much drama, I don’t need this shit in my life right now.” Tony’s arm was a heavy, comfortable weight on his shoulders, his side was flush against Peter’s, their thighs pressed together, even though there was more than enough room in the booth for them to sit further apart. If Peter turned his head slightly to the right, his lips would be inches away from Tony’s jaw, the unmistakable smell of his aftershave would get him drunk way faster than the booze. “I’m getting another one, do you want one, too, Pete?”
“Yeah, sure.” The younger boy downed the rest of his beer as Tony got up to get more. Of course he had a fake ID – he was so cool – and it was convincing, too. It helped that Tony looked older than he actually was, he even had to shave everyday. Peter couldn’t grow a hair on his face to save his life and on top of that he had a baby face. The older boy had hooked him up with a fake ID, too, which was how he could get into bars with them, but every time he tried to buy a drink people looked at him suspiciously.
“You should give it a shot,” Peter was startled out of his thoughts by Natasha’s voice in his ear. The other guys were distracted, talking about their plans for the summer, but she was looking straight at him with a smart glint in her eyes. “You know. Stop pining, start acting.”
“Wai – what? I’m – what do you mean?” He giggled nervously, hands sweaty, but Natasha didn’t even pretend to believe his confusion. Peter liked her, but she creeped him out a little, she always acted like she knew what was going on with him and sometimes even he didn’t know what was going on with himself.
“C’mon, Parker, I’m not blind. You’ve been crushing on him forever, it’s cute and a little pathetic.” She shrugged and Peter actually choked on air. He looked around the table to see if anyone had heard her, but the others were still distracted by their own conversations. “It’s okay, they’re clueless.”
“I-I-” Peter didn’t know what to say. Should he deny it? Could he even make it convincing? Should he confess? Play dead? Call the cops?
“You should seize this opportunity, you know. Now that he’s single again.” Natasha rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and Peter blushed just thinking about doing what she suggested.
“I-I couldn’t, Nat. He loves her. They belong together,” Peter muttered, playing with his empty bottle, when he felt Natasha flick his forehead. “Ouch!”
“If they belonged together, they’d be together, dummy. They love each other, but it just doesn’t work between them. They know it, they’re just too afraid to admit it, they’ve been together so long, they don’t even know what it’s like to be alone anymore. They’re scared.” She downed the rest of her beer and glanced towards the other guys to make sure they were still distracted. “He wants you, Pete. And he knows you want him, too. That’s why he keeps leading you on, he wants to keep you interested, he’s saving you for later, like a snack. Don’t let him. You’re not a snack, you’re a three course, hot meal, a fucking feast. Make sure he knows it.” She leaned forwards, lips brushing against his earlobe, and if there was one single heterosexual bone in his body he would have shivered – but there wasn’t. “You should see how he’s looking at us right now. So jealous.”
Before Peter could say anything or ask what she meant, he felt Tony plopping back down in the booth by his side, one arm quickly reclaiming its spot over his shoulders, pulling him away from Nat, not so subtly.
“Hey, what are you whispering about?” Tony pressed his side to Peter’s, his arm bent so he could run his fingers through Peter’s wild curls. The boy shivered – because, yeah, every single bone in his body was very gay and very attracted to Tony – as he turned to look at Nat, who smirked at the older boy.
“None of your business.” She shrugged, turning away from them to join Clint and Thor’s conversation about climate change. Tony didn’t pay her any mind, he pulled Peter even closer – he was seriously beginning to question impenetrability – and placed a beer in his hand.
“We should do something fun this weekend, just the two of us,” he spoke close to his ear, the bar was crowded and loud, it was a good excuse to lean even closer to him and feel his hot breath brushing his neck.
“Like what?” Peter turned in his direction, their faces were inches apart, Tony made no move to pull away. God, was Natasha right? Did Tony really want him, was he really aware of Peter’s interest? Was he playing a game, trying to keep him close, leading him on? For what? What even was his endgame?
“I don’t know, we could catch a movie, grab a bite, walk around. You know. Just hang out.” Like a date. Peter wished he could say it, but he was a coward, so he just looked into Tony’s beautiful, soft, brown eyes, the eyes that made him fall in love in the first place, and smiled, nodding his head.
“Sounds fun.” The older boy beamed and the hand that had been scratching his scalp slid down his temple and twirled a curl behind his ear. Fucking fuck –
“Your hair is getting long,” Tony mumbled, eyes focused on Peter’s locks, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah, I don’t have the money to get it cut right now, but when I head home for the summer May’s gonna do it.” At first, Peter was a little embarrassed to talk to Tony about his financial situation, he knew the older boy was filthy rich, but he acted so cool about it that Peter sometimes forgot completely.
“I kinda like it, it suits you.” He said, resting his hand back on Peter’s shoulder. “But then again, you’re gorgeous, so I guess any haircut would look great on you.” Peter’s breath hitched, because, yeah – he definitely wasn’t imagining things. Tony was flirting. And not, like, good-naturedly, it was real. Natasha was right.
Maybe.
What if – what if Peter took that final step that Tony refused to take? He was so sure he could make him happy. They wouldn’t fight, Peter would get him. He knew Tony kept crazy hours because he didn’t sleep well, he drank too much coffee and slept in way too often. He knew he didn’t like to talk about his dad or about the company that waited for him back home. He knew he didn’t like to talk about his feelings, but he didn’t need to, because he wore his heart on his sleeve and Peter could read him like a book. He knew he sometimes needed his space, needed to be alone. Sometimes he needed time to study or work on his projects. Peter understood him completely and he loved every single quirk of his. He knew he could make him happy.
Well, he could at least try.
*
The first time he cuddled with Tony in his bed, his scent enveloping him, his warmth seeping through his clothes and transferring to Peter’s shivering skin, he knew they were right for each other. Peter might not be perfect for him, he wasn’t rich, sophisticated, well-mannered or well-connected; he wasn’t a genius – although he was pretty smart – and he wasn’t the most good-looking guy out there – he wasn’t tall, his eyebrows looked funny and his lips were a little too thin –, so, yeah, he knew he wasn’t perfect for Tony, like Pepper was, but he was right for him. He knew it.
Tony didn’t seem to notice it, though, no matter how many other times they laid in each other’s arms. Like at that moment, lying on the grass by Charles River bike path with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish, with Peter’s head on his shoulder and a timid hand on his stomach. Peter could hardly breathe, but Tony was relaxed, peaceful, star-gazing and sharing trivia about the known universe with the younger boy – most of which he already knew, but it was nice hearing it from Tony’s lips.
“What are you thinking about, munchkin?” Tony interrupted his own rant about the Chandrasekhar limit when he noticed he wasn’t paying attention. Peter blushed, but looked up at the older boy, he was staring down at him with an amused little smile. “Am I boring you?”
“No, sorry, I’m just thinking about home. I miss May.” He shared a half truth, because that was something he was constantly thinking about lately. He hadn’t been able to go home for Christmas, so it had been almost a year since he’d last seen her. He missed Ned and MJ, too, and they’d both be in New York for the break. “Are you going home for the summer?” Peter quickly figured out that Tony hated it home. He never talked about it, never talked about his father and rarely ever talked about his mother, although when he did, it was always nice things about her, but it was easy to understand it wasn’t a subject he was comfortable with.
“I don’t have much choice.” He shrugged, looking back up at the sky. “My mom called, can’t say no to her.” The older boy closed his eyes, sighing, and Peter felt bad for bringing it up.
“You can come stay with me in Queens whenever you want. My bed is really small, though, so we’ll have to snuggle together, I hope you don’t mind,” he said, cheekily, and Tony looked down at him with a grin
“We’d make it work.” He wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him closer, and only then did the younger boy realize he was freezing. He tucked his cold nose in Tony’s warm neck and he didn’t even flinch. “Hey, you know what, I’m driving back to New York, you should come with me, we could make a road trip out of it.”
“From Boston to New York?” Peter smiled with mirth, looking up at Tony again, and the older boy looked back at him with a frown.
“Yeah, what about it?” He huffed indignantly and Peter giggled, shaking his head.
“That’s not much of a road trip,” he argued, but Tony just shrugged.
“That’s up to us, we can make a road trip out of it.” And that’s how he knew he was right for Tony, because he heard what he didn’t say. He didn’t want to go home, he wanted to postpone his return, and he wanted Peter to keep him company as he got ready to face what waited for him in New York.
“Let’s do it,” He whispered in Tony’s neck and felt him tighten his grip on his waist.
“Cool.” Peter wanted to say something, maybe do something, but at the same time – what if Natasha was wrong? What if Tony really only thought of him as a younger brother, after all, what if all the flirting was only in Peter’s head? But it couldn’t be. Not when Tony placed a kiss on his eyelids, cold fingers gently rubbing his hipbone. Maybe he was waiting for Peter? The younger boy took a deep breath, trying to talk himself into leaning up and kissing him, when he felt the older boy move. “Come on, we should head back, it’s getting late.”
Well. Some other time, then.
*
Three weeks had passed since Tony’s fight with Pepper, and Peter was pretty sure that was the longest they had gone without talking to each other, at least since he met them. Their fights always lasted around a week, then they would make up – which usually meant Peter had to find somewhere to be while they had loud, make-up sex for hours. It was annoying and heartbreaking, specially because every single time they broke up, Peter got his hopes up.
That time was different. It was, because it had been way more than a week and Tony was acting more and more like maybe he felt the same way as Peter, and he never once mentioned Pepper, and they hung out together everyday, and they laughed together, and they even helped each other with school work, and everything was just so great, it was going somewhere, at least Peter thought so. Maybe Tony was beginning to realize he was a whole meal, after all, not just a snack, whatever the hell Natasha meant by that.
So he made a decision. There was a party at Delta Pi on Saturday, it would be the perfect opportunity to make something – anything – happen. He bought a new pair of skinny jeans he just knew Tony would love – he had seen him staring at his ass countless times not to know – and he had one nice shirt that would go perfect with it. He would drink a few shots and just – be cool. And flirty. And he’d take the final step, if Tony didn’t.
So when Saturday rolled around, he made an excuse about a paper he had to finish and told Tony to go without him, told him that he would meet him at the party. He took a long shower, washed his hair with the sweetest-smelling shampoo he could find at the drugstore, tamed his curls with so much hair product that they actually stayed put when he brushed them to the side, then put on his cheap cologne and his best clothes.
When he looked in the mirror, he liked what he saw. He looked like someone on Tony’s league, someone who could go on a date with him and look the part, someone who could be seen kissing him, walking by his side hand in hand, someone who could make him happy. The perfect boyfriend. It made him smile, imagining all of that.
“You got this, Parker, come on. You can do this,” he talked to himself in the mirror, taking a deep breath and fixing his hair one last time. “Go get him!”
When he arrived at the party, it was already in full swing. A few drunk seniors laid on the grass outside, vomiting or giggling stupidly, and Peter could hear the noise coming from inside the house. It was really loud and really crowded when he walked in and as he made his way through the masses of people, he kept looking for a familiar face. Nat was the first one he found, and she looked at him with wide eyes and a knowing smirk.
“Someone is looking for trouble tonight,” she shouted over the music as soon as he was close enough to hear her. He grinned, accepting the plastic cup she handed him.
“Not trouble, hopefully.” He downed the contents of the cup and it tasted vile. He had no idea what he’d just drunk, but it was alcohol, and he would need to be at least a little tipsy if he wanted to go through with his plan. “Have you seen him?” He shouted back at her, looking around the living room.
“He’s out back by the pool, go get him, tiger!” She beamed, pushing him in the general direction of the backdoor. He took a little detour and stopped at the kitchen to get a beer, and then another, before he headed to the backyard.
It wasn’t as loud outside, but he could still hear the music playing in the living room. People were talking loudly and laughing, someone had jumped in the pool and was trying to convince others to join them. A few girls were taking their tops off and getting ready to jump in.
“Hey, Parker! Over here!” He heard Thor’s booming voice coming from his left and when he turned, he saw a few people sitting in a circle in pool chairs. He recognized Steve – Tony’s best frenemy, they couldn’t seem to decide if they hated or loved each other –, Bucky, Sam, Thor and Bruce, surprisingly sitting on Thor’s lap. Still, no sign of Tony.
“Hey, what’s up.” He approached them, trying to sound cool and chill, but his eyes were wandering.
“Hey, did you just get here?” Bruce smiled, offering him yet another cup filled with something unrecognizable to Peter. He accepted it anyway.
“Yeah, I was finishing a paper, I just –“
“Pete?” Peter turned around quickly, coming face to face with Tony. The older boy looked gorgeous as always, his hair was a floppy mess and he was wearing his signature ripped jeans and a band t-shirt and he still looked like a fucking wet dream. He was gaping at Peter as if he was seeing him for the first time ever and the younger boy, feeling confident and a little tipsy, puffed his chest out and straightened his back.
“Hey, Tones,” he said somewhat shyly, looking at the older boy from under his lashes – he read somewhere online that it was a good flirting technique.
“Hi, I – are you – are you meeting someone?” Tony shook his head, a little confused, blinking a couple of times, and Peter blushed, chuckling and dropping his gaze – this was supposed to make him look charming and cute.
“Just you.” He stared at the older boy head on, and watched nervously as understanding seemed to dawn on him. A slow smile started forming on his lips, confidence growing as he approached, beer in hand. Tony was only a few inches taller than Peter, but the way he carried himself made it seem like feet.
“Well, you found me, munchkin,” he said when he was close enough that Peter could feel his breath on his face.
“Get a room, you two.” Peter vaguely registered Sam’s voice, but didn’t even acknowledge him. Tony, on the other hand, flipped him off, but his eyes never left Peter.
“Suck a dick, Wilson,” he shouted over Peter’s shoulder, before wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him away from his circle of friends. “I thought you weren’t coming anymore.” He said as he steered Peter somewhere quieter. They walked to the far back of the house, where they could barely hear the music coming from the inside anymore. There were a few other people scattered around there, mostly drunk or too busy making out to notice them. Peter leaned against a tree trunk and Tony rested a hand on the side of his face.
“Sorry, I really needed to finish that paper.” Tony didn’t need to know that he spent almost two hours showering and shaving, then a whole other hour doing his hair and getting dressed and second guessing his outfit. “Did you miss me?” He asked, cheekily, punching his chest weakly and Tony grabbed his hand, holding it to his heart.
“Always.” He grinned, taking one step closer to the younger boy. Peter braced himself for something – anything – but Tony just stood there, way too fucking close to be casual. “I like what you did with your hair, but I miss the curls. You look really gorgeous tonight.”
“Yeah?” Peter breathed, gathering all the courage he had to whisper the next few words. “Are you gonna do something about it?” Apparently, it was all Tony needed to hear.
The older boy crashed his lips against Peter’s and he went to heaven and back in the course of 0.1 seconds. God knew how many times he’d fantasized about their first kiss – where would it be? How would Tony taste? Would it be soft and tender or rough and wild? – but his wildest fantasies couldn’t compare. It didn’t matter where they were when Tony pressed his body flush against Peter’s and he felt every inch of his chest and hips touching his. He tasted like alcohol and his hands were rough where they pulled Peter closer by the waist, but his lips were gentle as he kissed him deep and slow.
It was nothing like Peter had imagined – but then again, he’d imagined flowers, bells, rain, tuxes and an actual white horse, so maybe his dreams weren’t that realistic – but it was better. Real. Peter had kissed his fair share of boys in high school, but Tony was different, he kissed with his whole body, his hands were restless and roamed all over Peter’s heated skin, his hips moving ever so slightly and he was so out of it that he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed for being hard – Tony was, too.
“Do you wanna go back to our room?” He whispered against his mouth, nipping his bottom lip, and Peter’s heart went wild. He knew what the other boy was suggesting, and it was another thing he couldn’t stop fantasizing about, but – was he even ready for that? He thought he was, he fucking wanted it so bad, he daydreamed about Tony every single day, all the fucking time, whenever he saw a hint of his bare skin, whenever he was close enough to touch. On the other hand, he’d never done it with anyone – he was suddenly reminded of Wade, his boyfriend from high school who broke up with him because Peter wasn’t ready for sex.
“Yeah,” he whispered, breathless, watching a slow smile forming on Tony’s face before he attacked his lips once again.
“Come on, then.”
They made it back to the dormitories in record time, Peter was so nervous he felt like throwing up – but maybe it had something to do with all the alcohol he drank. When they were finally in their room, with the door closed and locked, and Tony looked at him with dark, hungry eyes, approaching slowly, like a predator, he forgot how to breathe for one whole minute.
The room was so quiet Tony’s steps resonated and filled all the empty space, making Peter shiver in anticipation. They stood in the space between their beds, and when Tony finally reached him, his hands cupped Peter’s face, thumbs brushing his jaw as their lips met again.
“Your place or mine?” He asked playfully, indicating their beds with his chin, and Peter didn’t even hesitate.
“Yours.”
The thought of losing his virginity in Tony’s bed, lying in his sheets, smelling his scent, was everything Peter could have hoped for. Sure, he hadn’t thought his first time would happen before he even had his first official date with Tony, but then again, maybe his expectations were a bit unrealistic in the first place – it involved candlelit dinner, a ring and a string quartet with blind musicians, so.
Tony kissed him again, his fingers ventured under Peter’s shirt, touching the skin above the waistband of his jeans softly, brushing his calloused thumbs on his sensitive hipbones. Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around his neck, and let Tony take the lead as he pushed him carefully towards the bed, until the back of his legs touched the mattress. His heart was beating loudly against his rib cage when he fell backwards and Tony carefully climbed on top of him, his weight pressing him down.
“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” He asked, breathless, as he placed hot, wet kisses across Peter’s jaw, then down the column of his neck, hungrily. The younger boy thought that had to be the most turned on he had ever been in his life, feeling Tony’s teeth against his jugular. “Dressing like that, getting all dolled up just for me?” Peter gasped when Tony placed a leg between his, pressing his thigh against his already rock-hard cock.
“Y-yeah, yes, just for you,” Peter whimpered, feeling dizzy just from the kissing and Tony’s leg rubbing against him. “Kept waiting for you to make a move, but –“ He gasped when Tony sucked the skin where his neck met his collarbone, surely leaving a bruise behind.
“I was trying to be good.” Tony’s quick fingers ventured under his shirt, his palms dragged up Peter’s torso, the boy’s whole body caught on fire from how warm his hands were. He arched his back, giving Tony room to pull his shirt over his head. “Trying really hard not to ruin my sweet, innocent roommate.” Peter almost cried when he felt Tony’s tongue lapping at one of his oversensitive nipples, sucking it into his mouth carefully, gently, like it was the most precious thing. “You made it really fucking hard, Pete. I’m a weak man.”
“Tony,” he moaned when the older boy licked across his chest until he reached his other nipple, and Peter spread his legs, trying to find a position in which he could get more friction from the other boy’s thigh. He was comfortable with all that, it was nothing different from what he had already done with Wade, it didn’t make him nervous or anxious, just really fucking horny. “Fuck.”
“Shhh.” Tony’s lips traveled back to his mouth as his hands slid down Peter’s sides to the waistband of his jeans. “We’ll get there.” He licked his mouth open once again in another hungry kiss, as his fingers worked on undoing his pants. “These fucking jeans, I swear to fuck.” Tony kept pulling back to whisper whatever came to his mind, which Peter found amusing and endearing. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
When Tony was finally able to undo his jeans, he started dragging them down his legs, as his lips traveled down Peter’s chest and stomach, leaving bruises and wet kisses along the way, until he was wearing nothing but his boxers, and that’s when he started feeling anxious. The older boy’s lips were kissing and sucking the skin just above the waistband of his underwear, so fucking close to Peter’s cock he could practically feel the heat of his breath. His cock was so fucking hard it must be purple, he needed something, anything –
Tony mouthed at his left hipbone as his fingers dug into the flesh of Peter’s thighs and his hips buckled, trying to find some kind of relief. He felt the older boy smirking against his skin before he felt his boxers sliding down his legs slowly, and he only registered that he was completely naked when Tony sat back on his haunches at stared openly at him. He blushed and tried to cover himself, but the older boy grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the bed.
“Don’t you dare hide from me,” he whispered under his breath, his face inches away from Peter’s. “You look fucking gorgeous, Pete,” the younger boy whimpered again, accepting the rough, bruising kiss Tony placed on his lips, before he pulled away, taking his Black Sabath t-shirt off. Peter licked his lips, feeling his cock twitch as he admired Tony’s chest and abs; he had an amazing body, which Peter already knew from seeing him shirtless countless times before, but that was different. It was intimate now, Tony was undressing for him, which had a whole other meaning. The younger boy reached out, hands finally allowed to touch the tanned, heated skin and it felt smooth and firm under his fingertips.
Tony let him have his fun for a few seconds before he attacked his lips once again, one of his hands wrapped around Peter’s cock without warning and he honest to God had to hold himself back to avoid coming way, way too soon. Tony tightened his grasp on his shaft and started pumping at the same slow pace as he was kissing him, his other hand mussing Peter’s curls.
Peter tried to reach down to return the favor, but before he could, Tony slid back down where he was earlier and, again, without warning, licked the lip of Peter’s leaking cock and the boy yelped in surprise, eyes flying open. Wade had only ever given him head once and it wasn’t even that good, but the way Tony swallowed him whole, until he felt the head of his cock hitting the back of his throat was a whole different story.
“Oh, God, Tony, Tony, fuck!” He writhed on the tiny bed, the older boy’s fingers dug into his ass cheeks roughly as his head bobbed faster and faster. Peter’s feet were planted on the mattress, knees bent and hands gripping the sheets tightly, trying to keep still instead of thrusting up into the wet heat of Tony’s mouth.
He was half aware of the boy’s finger making its way into his crack and brushing against his hole, but he tried to relax, concentrating on what his mouth was doing. Tony quickened the pace as said finger pressed harder against his hole, testing, and Peter cursed under his breath, trying to relax his muscles to allow Tony entrance when he finally tried to push inside.
Again, he had to hold back not to come on the spot. He had fingered himself before and he couldn’t deny it was something he enjoyed very much, but just the thought that it was Tony’s finger inside him, Tony’s finger trying to get him ready for what was about to come later, fuck, it was really, really fucking hard to hold back.
“Tony, stop, stop, I can’t – gonna –“ He pushed the boy’s head away from his cock, no matter how badly he wanted him to keep going, otherwise it would all be over before Tony even took off his pants. The older boy got up from the bed, quickly undoing his jeans while he headed towards his messy desk. He searched one of his drawers and retrieved a small tube and a packet from there, before making his way back to the bed. He took off his pants, freeing his erection, and Peter stared, mouth watering.
Tony’s cock was fully hard and leaking, it was bigger than Peter’s own and than what he remembered Wade’s to be, which made him a little nervous. The boy climbed back into bed, between Peter’s spread legs, and kissed him slowly.
Again, Peter was only half aware of his hands shuffling and moving somewhere between his thighs, but soon he felt one wet, cold finger breaching him again, sliding in more easily than before. Tony’s finger was longer and thicker than Peter’s own, it reached deep inside him and curled in an angle that made him see stars.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Peter threw his head back and Tony immediately proceeded to suck bruises on his neck, as a second finger made its way to Peter’s crack. He braced himself on Tony’s shoulders as the second finger slid in, eyes shut and mouth hanging open in a silent moan. When both fingers were inside him and Tony’s knuckles brushed the curve of his ass, Peter tried to relax and open up as the older boy scissored his fingers, trying to stretch him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, drawing out his fingers and then thrusting them in again, fucking him open, trying to set a pace. Peter felt the tips of his fingers brushing his prostate every now and again and it made him forget the burn of the stretch for a few seconds, at least until Tony pulled his fingers away completely, sitting back on the bed.
Peter watched, mesmerized and nervous, as Tony opened the condom packet with his teeth, then proceeded to roll it on his cock, giving it a few pumps once it was on. He spread more lube over the already slick condom and Peter almost drooled, watching such a pornographic scene. He positioned himself back between Peter’s legs and the younger man’s breath hitched. He closed his eyes and grasped Tony’s waist, it gave him a sense of control when the older boy held himself with one hand, guiding his shaft to Peter’s entrance.
Peter let out a painful cry when the tip of Tony’s cock finally breached him, after a bit of a struggle. The older boy stopped immediately, leaning down to kiss his lips apologetically.
“Sorry, I haven’t been with a guy in a while, didn’t mean to hurt you, sorry,” he peppered kisses on his cheeks and the younger boy shook his head, trying to to put on a brave face.
“It’s fine – just – just go slow, please,” he whispered back, holding Tony’s jaw in his hands, pulling him in for a kiss to distract him. Tony held his hips down as he kissed him back, slowly pushing himself more and more inside Peter. It burned like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t an unbearable pain, like he imagined he would feel.
Tony took his cock in one of his hands, the pleasure mixing with the pain, until the older boy’s hipbones were flush against the back of his thighs, cock fully sheathed in Peter’s hole, arms caging him into the tiny bed and his weight pushing him down into the mattress. Peter felt so fucking full and trapped and crushed, and it felt fucking amazing. He wanted to feel like that all the fucking time, crushed under Tony’s body, trapped by his arms and full of his cock.
The older boy stopped for a few minutes, peppering apologetic kisses on his face, and Peter really appreciated it, it gave him time to take a deep breath and get used to the intrusion. He wrapped his legs around his waist a minute later, pulling him closer, and Tony got the message.
The older boy kissed him deeply as he started thrusting into him; slowly at first, then picking up the face as Peter relaxed, his body opening up more easily. It was a weird feeling at first, it burned and hurt a little, but it felt mostly weird. Peter wasn’t sure how he felt about it until Tony brushed something inside him and it made him see fucking stars.
“Oh, my God, Tony!” His eyes widened as he gripped the other boy’s shoulders. He stopped immediately, startled, but Peter pushed against him, desperately. “No, no, keep going, don’t stop, please, right there, right there!” He was aware he was babbling and that he sounded like a slut, but he couldn’t really care, not when Tony buried himself deeper into him and started fucking him with abandon, his mouth leaving bruises on his throat, fingers digging into his ass. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Peter couldn’t even think straight, never knew sex could feel that good, he felt so fucking overwhelmed and – fuck –“I’m gonna – Tony, I’m--”
Tony swallowed his words in a bruising kiss as Peter went fucking blind with pleasure, coming so hard he was afraid he would pass out after. Tony fucked him through it, licking inside his mouth, grunting, thrusts becoming erratic and sloppy until he groaned loudly, buried deep inside Peter’s heat. He collapsed on top of the younger boy’s smaller body, but quickly rolled off, mindful of his weight. He seemed to gather the last of his energy to pull him to his chest, before essentially passing out, followed closely by a blissed out Peter.
*
When Peter woke up the next day, he was lying in Tony’s tiny bed, with his head resting on his chest and the older boy’s arms wrapped protectively around his waist. He smiled to himself, feeling silly and happy, even if a little sore. He lied awake for almost two hours, basking in the morning sunlight coming through the window before Tony started to stir. He seemed a little confused when he blinked his eyes open and saw Peter there, but then a smile spread across his lips and he placed a kiss on the younger boy’s head.
“Morning, munchkin.” His voice was raspy and rough, but his fingers rubbed his back softly.
“I think it’s afternoon, actually,” Peter replied, cheekily, and Tony just smiled, tugging his hair a little, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.
“Details.”
Peter was unsure about what was going to happen from then on, but in the end, he didn’t have to worry, he just followed Tony’s lead. Behind the closed door of their dorm room, it felt like their own little world, where nothing could touch them. Peter rushed back everyday, eager to meet the older boy, and he was never disappointed by the reception. Tony always greeted him with a slow, deep kiss and an “I missed you” whispered into the top of his head. He was caring, attentive and so, so sweet. They never slept in separate beds, he woke Peter up with soft kisses on the back of his neck and he always made sure he was well fed and well rested.
And the sex – Peter couldn’t get over how amazing it was and how much better it got each day, specially after Tony found out he had inadvertently taken Peter’s virginity that fateful night. It was two days after the party and Peter was still feeling a bit sore when they were making out in his bed that night. He felt one of Tony’s fingers sliding towards his crack and he tensed a little, bracing himself for the burn that would follow if Tony tried to push inside.
“Hey, are you okay?” He whispered against his lips, frowning. “Don’t you wanna do this?”
“No, I do, I do, sorry, I’m just – I’m still a little sore from Saturday?” He answered sheepishly and Tony’s eyes widened a bit, as he pulled away to take a better look at Peter.
“Still? Fuck, Pete, did I hurt you?” He tried to sit up, but Peter held him by the shoulders, keeping him in bed.
“It’s okay, I looked it up, it’s normal.” He tried to calm the older boy, but he still looked alarmed.
“It’s not normal, it’s been two days, you shouldn’t still be feeling sore.” He retorted, trying to sit up again, so Peter let him, then sat by his side.
“I’m just not used to it, I –“ He took a deep breath, watching the confusion growing on the older boy’s face. “It was my first time.” He finally admitted, feeling his cheeks burning hot as he tried to avoid the Tony’s gaze.
“First time? First time doing what?” He asked, confused, and Peter just remained silent until he heard him gasp in surprise. “Your first time bottoming?”
“Uhm. Yeah. Just first time in general, I guess?” Peter turned to look at him and he would have laughed at Tony’s stunned face if he wasn’t so nervous he could cry.
“Peter, what the fuck!” He threw his arms up in exasperation and the younger boy dropped his gaze, embarrassment, shame and regret mixing in the pit of his stomach.
“It’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, pulling the sheets to cover his naked body. He felt way too vulnerable and exposed as it was.
“It’s kind of a big deal to me!”
“Please, don’t be mad, I didn’t want to say anything because I thought –“ He shut up when he felt Tony’s hand under his chin, forcing him to face him. He still looked a little agitated, but he took a deep breath and cupped Peter’s face with his hands.
“Babe, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m not mad, I just – I wish you had told me. I wouldn’t have been so forward if I knew, I just assumed – you always talked about your ex, Wade? Weren’t you together for like, two years or something?” Tony frowned, genuinely confused, and Peter licked his lips nervously, nodding his head.
“Yeah, almost.” He looked into Tony’s brown eyes and the older boy narrowed them.
“And you never…?”
“Uhm, we just fooled around, you know. Hand jobs and blow jobs in his car. I was really young, like, I was sixteen when he left for college. And I don’t know, it just never felt right.” Peter shrugged and Tony kept looking at him as if he had given birth to a three headed spider.
“And it felt right with me? God, Pete, did you feel pressured or something? I swear, I never woul –”
“Tony, relax, it felt right, more than right, ok? It was perfect.” It was his time to hold the older boy by his jaw, forcing him to face him. He smiled sweetly at him. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t feel it was right. Ok?” Tony looked like he was about to argue, but he swallowed his words and sighed, staring back at Peter intently, before covering his hands with his own. He closed the distance between them and kissed him gently.
“I really wish you would have told me,” he whispered against Peter’s lips, pulling away just enough for their eyes to meet.
“Yeah? What would you have done differently?” Peter smirked, arching one brow, and Tony gave him his trademark, lopsided grin.
“I created a monster.”
It all happened inside their room. Outside, it was as if nothing had changed. They still went to classes and met their friends whenever they could, everybody still seemed to think they were just friends, only Natasha gave him a knowing look when they met for the first time after the party. Peter figured it was sensible, not to tell people yet. Tony had just broken up with Pepper and they were just starting to see each other romantically, they didn’t need other people meddling in their business and making it more complicated.
They had two quiet, peaceful weeks together. Like Peter imagined, they didn’t fight, they respected each other’s time and space, he could sense when Tony needed to be alone and when he needed to cuddle. They spent a lot of time together, but there were no hard feelings if either of them wanted some time apart.
They were having a lazy Sunday morning in bed, kissing slowly as they got down from the high of good morning sex, making plans about their road trip back home in just a couple of weeks. Tony planned all these detours that would get them to New York in three days instead of four hours and Peter really wanted to see May as soon as possible, but he also wanted to be there for Tony, so he just agreed to the crazy itinerary.
Things started heating up again when lazy kisses turned into heated ones, and hands roamed freely underneath the sheets. Peter rolled on top of Tony, straddling his hips, he was still loose from their lovemaking earlier, so he took Tony’s cock in his hand and guided it directly towards his entrance without any prep.
And then, there was a loud knock on the door.
“Tony, open up.” Tony practically threw Peter to the floor when he heard Pepper’s voice. The younger boy was able to avoid falling on his butt by cushioning the fall with his hands, but it sent a sharp pain up his left wrist. “What’s all this noise? Is anyone there with you?”
“Uhm, hold on! It’s just Peter – he’s, uh, changing. Wait a second!” Tony stared at Peter with pleading eyes as he helped him to his feet, but the younger boy was having none of it, he shoved Tony away with one hand, cradling the other close to his chest.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” he whispered, as he looked around for his underwear, feeling hurt by how frantic Tony looked just from hearing Pepper’s voice. He opened the window, probably hoping the smell of sex wouldn’t be too strong, and quickly started to get dressed. Once they were both presentable, Peter sat at his desk and Tony yanked the door open.
“Hey, Pep,” he greeted, leaning against the doorway and Peter scoffed behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“I just, I was – I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” She asked, peeking inside the room, acknowledging Peter’s presence for the first time then. “Hey, Pete. Could you give us a minute, please?”
The younger man looked from Tony to Pepper to Tony again. He expected the older boy to tell him to stay, to say they should all have that conversation together, because he was with Peter now, but Tony just shot him a pleading look and the boy sighed, nodding at Pepper.
“Yeah, sure, I gotta – I’m going,” he gave her a strained smile, as he got up from the chair and brushed past Tony without looking at his face.
As soon as he walked out, Pepper closed the door behind him, and he really, really meant to go somewhere, he even walked a few feet towards the exit, but then went back. What if Tony called him? What if he was gonna tell Pepper, and then he needed him for that conversation? For whatever reason, he sat with his back to the wall, across from their room.
He couldn’t hear them, they weren’t shouting, he wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad sign, but he preferred not to guess. He just sat there for almost two hours until Pepper emerged, Tony right behind her. Peter got to his feet, getting ready to apologize to Pepper and maybe try to explain things, like how nothing happened while she was still with Tony, so she wasn’t cheated on or anything.
He froze on the spot, though, when she turned around and pecked Tony on the lips and left with a casual wave in his direction, leaving the older boy staring at him from across the hall. Peter remained silent, confused by what he had just seen – maybe he had misunderstood what happened, maybe it was just a friendly goodbye?
“Pete.” Tony drew in a breath, like he was about to say something, but then just fell silent.
“What?” He asked, aware that he sounded a little desperate, a little breathless, but he couldn’t help it, his mind was running wild. “What, Tony?” He insisted when the older boy didn’t say anything. He leaned on the doorway, rubbing his face, looking for words – looking for the right words to let him down easy, Peter realized. “Say it. Just say it.”
“That’s why I didn’t want to–“ he started, but Peter cut him off.
“Don’t be a fucking coward, don’t you dare make excuses, just fucking say it!” He took the few steps that separated them to stand right before Tony and the older boy couldn’t avoid looking at him. He looked devastated and lost, like he didn’t want to say the words that came next, but he did it anyway.
“I’m back with Pepper.” Peter felt like he had been punched in the stomach, he felt breathless and like he was about to throw up. He crossed his arms over his chest, like he could hold himself together to prevent falling apart, but couldn’t help the fat tears that rolled down his cheeks.
“And you’re done with me,” he whispered, taking a few steps back. Tony didn’t follow.
“It’s not like that.” He dropped his gaze, sticking his hands in his pockets.
“What is it like, then, Tony?” He insisted, and he knew he was making a scene, he knew he was drawing it out way longer than Tony probably wanted, but if nothing else, he deserved that. Closure. Answers. “What, nothing? Not even a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?’ I’ll take anything, come on.” Predictably, Tony remained silent, eyes cast down. “Did you even tell her about us? Or was I not worth mentioning?”
“I never meant to get you in the middle of this, Pete, which is why I tried so hard not to do anything about – about this uncontrollable pull you have over me, I never meant to hurt you.” He pleaded and there was honesty in his face, in his voice, but still Peter couldn’t believe a word he said.
“Then why are you?”
There was no answer for several minutes, no chase as he walked away.
***
Pepper said sorry, which was new. Usually, whenever they fought, it was always Tony going after her making promises and asking for forgiveness, not the other way around – which was why he honestly, sincerely, genuinely thought they were done for good that time around, because he really had no intention of calling her. He did not count on her coming after him, crying and saying she was in the wrong.
He looked at her that day and he still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He still thought she was the most brilliant person he had ever met, the best friend he had ever had, but – something was off. Different. He listened to her talk about how they could change together, how they could be better for each other, and he wanted that for them – for years, and years, and years, he was so sure they would be together forever, Pepper was it for him, but as he heard her speak about the future, his mind wandered.
He tuned her out as he thought about Peter’s eyes. Not sharp, blue eyes – soft, honey-like brown eyes, paired with an equally soft, boyish smile; pretty, pink lips; blushing, freckled cheeks. He thought about his hair. Not straight, impeccable hair – crazy, wild curls that touched the tip of his ears and the nape of his neck when they were tamed, and pointed in every direction on any given morning. As Pepper made plans about their future, he thought about the past few weeks. Getting used to the smell of Peter’s skin on his sheets, to the sight of him walking around in his clothes, to the sound of his giggles when Tony said something stupid.
And then he looked at Pepper. The love of his life. Right? The woman he was supposed be with, the girl who stood by his side through all of his teenage years, through thick and thin, who opened her window for him and let him find refuge in her arms when everywhere else felt suffocating. He remembered what being completely and utterly in love with her felt like. All-consuming and blinding – wasn’t that how love was supposed to be? He wasn’t sure anymore, it wasn’t how he felt about her in a long time, but Peter –
Peter, with his annoyingly cute nose and chirpy, high pitched voice. Tony remembered meeting him for the first time and thinking about all the things he’d do to him if wasn’t with Pepper. He remembered feeling tempted all the fucking time, tempted to reach out and touch him, feel him, fucking smother him with kisses and then pound him into the mattress. But he couldn’t do anything. He saw the way the boy looked at him, it wasn’t just lust for him, he could tell. He knew that look and he couldn’t give him what he wanted.
Until he did. And it felt good and right, but –
But there was Pepper, looking expectantly at him with tears in her eyes, waiting for an answer. And what else could he say to her?
“Of course, love. I’m sorry for what I said, too. I love you.”
Coming out of that room and facing Peter was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. He saw the exact moment when it dawned on him that Tony was leaving him, and it broke his heart. He wanted to reach out and hold him, console him, but he knew he wouldn’t be welcome, so he just stood there, kept his distance, not knowing what to say to make it better.
Peter was avoiding him. Had been for a week. He left the room early in the morning and only came back late at night, never saying a word to him. Their friends noticed, but they stopped asking when Tony snapped at Bruce, telling him it was none of his goddamned business. Natasha kicked him in the balls two days after he broke up with Peter – was it weird that he was relieved to feel pain? He felt like he finally got what he deserved, even though he couldn’t walk for hours after that.
They were only a week away from the summer break and Tony had hope that maybe a few months apart would be enough to heal some of the wounds. But he just couldn’t help thinking about the summer they wouldn’t have, the road trip they wouldn’t take, the snuggles he wouldn’t get in Peter’s tiny bed in Queens.
Now, more than ever, he dreaded going home.
*
“Holy fuck, is that Parker?” Someone shouted over the music, the person sounded drunk and amused, the mention of Peter’s name had Tony turning away from the beer-pong match to search the crowd for the familiar face. The party was in full swing, loud and annoying pop music was playing in the background, the lights were off and the only thing illuminating the rooms were the street lights coming in through the open windows and the red lights scattered around the frat house. Tony looked in the general direction of the living room and almost fell on his butt in surprise when he saw that scene.
World class asshole Quentin Beck sat on the couch with a lap full of a clearly drunk Peter, the boy was kissing him sloppily and grinding against him like there was no tomorrow, and Beck kept smirking and running his filthy paws all over his thighs and hips, until finally they grabbed Peter’s ass cheeks and squeezed, pulling him closer.
People were howling and cat-calling, at least two assholes – Flash and Osborne – were filming the whole thing with their phones, Peter seemed completely unaware of what was going on all around him – he’d be mortified if he was sober, he was so shy, he hated drawing attention to himself, he’d never do any of that in front of so many people. So of course Tony had to intervene, no matter how mad the younger boy was at him.
“Get your hands off of him!” He shouted, grabbing Peter by the arm and yanking him away from Beck. For at least ten seconds, everything went silent except for the music, everyone went quiet, watching the scene, as Beck’s face went from confused to pissed off. Before he could say anything, though, Peter beat him to the punch.
“Get your hands off of me, Tony! What do you think you’re doing!?” He yelled, trying to free his thin wrist from his strong grip, but the older boy didn’t let him go. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let Peter go back to that – that disgusting excuse of a man’s arms. He deserved better.
“Shut up, you’re drunk, you’ll thank me tomorrow.” He barely spared him a glance, still holding his wrist tight, then he turned to Beck. “And you stay away from him, you piece of shit.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are, Stark? You’re not his dad, if he wants to ride my dick right here in front of everybody, what is it to you?” He got up from the couch and got all up in Tony’s face, which would be more than enough to make him lose his shit on any given day, but the way he talked about Peter only served to fuel his rage.
He didn’t even think, he pulled his arm back the punched his nose with all of his weight, sending him right back to the couch, blood gushing down his face.
“Motherfucker!” Then all hell broke loose.
Tony wasn’t sure about the particulars of what happened, it happened so fucking fast, one minute he was staring at Beck’s bloody face, the next he was being punched in the gut by one of his friends – Osborne, maybe – as someone held him from behind. Rodhey came to his rescue, pushing the guy who was punching him, then Steve and Bucky showed up to help, Beck got up from the couch and they all started throwing punches and kicks and he was pretty sure he ended up kicking Rogers in the face at some point, but –
“Stop! Fucking stop! What the fuck are you doing!?” Peter got in between him and Beck, pushing both of their chests, and Tony stopped immediately, afraid to hurt him, but Beck didn’t even care, landing a blow on his eye and Peter fell backwards right into Bucky’s arms. Tony was sure he was unconscious, the force of the impact mixed with his drunken state were enough to make him lose conscience. He turned back to Beck even more pissed.
“You’re a dead man, you motherfucker!”
Again, he had no idea how long the whole thing lasted, he was way too pissed and way too drunk to keep track, but at some point they were all kicked out of the house. Beck and his goons scurried away, and Tony kept shouting that next time he saw them he’d fucking murder them.
“Tony, stop, Peter is hurt, we have to take him back to the dorms.” Steve looked worried and Tony quickly turned to look at Bucky, who still had Peter in his arms. He was out could, his damp curls covered his forehead and part of his eyebrows, but he could see a purple bruise forming and swelling on his right eye.
“Fuck, is he okay? Should he be sleeping? Should we take him to the hospital?” He was sure he sounded frantic and desperate, but Rhodey just rolled his eyes.
“He’s fine, Tony, it was just a punch, despite what you believe, Peter is not a delicate flower, he will survive. Come on, he just needs to sleep it off. He’s gonna feel like shit in the morning, though.” Rhodey gestured towards Tony’s sports car and Bucky and Steve headed in that direction with Peter. Before Tony could follow, though, Rhodey held him back. “Tony, what the fuck was that, man?”
“What do you mean? Did you not see what that idiot was doing to Peter?” He looked at his best friend as if he had grown a second head.
“He seemed to be enjoying it just fine, Tony, why the hell did you get in the middle of that?” He was trying to keep it down, but he was clearly agitated.
“He wasn’t enjoying it! He wasn’t – he wouldn’t – he was too fucking drunk to consent! And – and they were mocking him! Filming him, making jokes, and – and –” Tony wasn’t unreasonable, he did the right thing, he would have done it again, no matter what Rhodey said.
“Okay, okay, you don’t need to convince me what you did was completely okay, I’m surprisingly used to your shit, but you will have to convince Pepper and Peter that this shit you pulled wasn’t absolutely ridiculous and uncalled for.” He stabbed a finger in his chest and walked away towards Tony’s car, as the other teen ran his hands through his hair, huffing.
“Fuck me.”
*
It was way past noon when Peter woke up the next day and Tony winced just to watch him try to open his eyes. He had made sure that the drapes were closed so the room was mostly dark, but Peter’s left eye was swollen shut, his head was most certainly killing him. Tony got up from his bed, grabbed the Advil and the glass of water he’d set aside for the younger man and rushed to his side.
“Hey, Pete, how’s the head?” He whispered, sitting beside him on his bed. The night before, by the time they managed to get back to the dorms, Peter was awake again. He reluctantly let Tony give him a shower to sober up some, but refused vehemently when the offered to sleep in his bed in case he needed anything during the night. They didn’t have a chance to talk, though. They hadn’t talked in over a week, actually.
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck,” he muttered, deciding not to open his eyes after all.
“Here, take some Advil.” Tony helped him raise his head a little and placed the pill on his tongue, washing it down with a little of water. Peter rested back against the pillow and fell silent again, the older boy wasn’t sure if he’d fallen back asleep. He watched the angelic face for a minute, the same rage that filled him the day before burned inside him again as he observed the horrible bruise marring his face. He was gonna kill Beck, sure, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty. “How much do you remember about yesterday?” He whispered, in case Peter was sleeping, but the younger man opened his good eye and stared at Tony.
“Everything,” he answered, just as quietly as Tony had spoken. The older boy dropped his gaze, gulping, thinking about new ways to apologize to Peter, it seemed these days he was always trying to apologize and trying to make things better between them. “Why did you do that, Tony?”
“Didn’t you hear the way he talked about you?” Tony frowned, Peter couldn’t be serious.
“I did, and I’m a big boy, I can handle myself, I don’t need you to throw punches to protect my honor,” he whispered, rubbing at his forehead, and Tony was reminded not to raise his voice.
“He was taking advantage of you,” he argued, watching Peter narrow his good eye.
“He wasn’t,”
“Did you want to sleep with him?” His voice came out higher and louder than he meant, which made Peter wince.
“Yes, I did,” he answered, staring straight at Tony.
“Okay, fine, then, do what you will.” He got up from Peter’s bed and started pacing the floor, Peter couldn’t be fucking serious, he couldn’t – he was a virgin just a few weeks earlier, now, what, he was willing to fuck any brainless dick who came on to him?
“Yeah, I fucking will, I don’t need your permission, asshole,” he actually raised his voice a little and, fuck, Tony had no fucking right to fucking – Peter wasn’t his.
“Fine, whatever, see if I care.” He stalked to the door, slamming it loudly on his way out.
*
Pepper didn’t want to drive home, let alone make a road trip out of it, she wanted to be in New York as soon as possible, so she bought a plane ticked for an early fight on the first day of summer break and Tony woke at ass o’clock in the morning to drive her to the airport.
As he got dressed, he watched Peter sleep. He didn’t hear him come in the night before, he hadn’t seen him in a few days, but somehow he was all packed up to go home. Tony begged Natasha to tell him his plans and she reluctantly told him that he would take the 11AM bus back to New York.
He felt like an asshole, couldn’t stop thinking about their last conversation, how he managed to hurt the younger boy even more, he didn’t even think it was possible. He wanted to apologize, but every time he approached him, he walked away, pretended he didn’t even see him. His eye had healed some, it was still blue-ish, but at least it wasn’t swollen anymore.
That morning, the first day of summer break, the day they were supposed to leave for their road trip, he slept peacefully and Tony envied him. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.
He finished getting dressed then went to pick Pepper up. He helped her put her bags in the truck and started driving, as she talked about all she had planned for the summer. Family dinners with the Potts, family dinners with the Starks, galas – for networking purposes, according to her –, a weekend at her parents’ house in the Hamptons and few parties with their old friends from school – Rhodey was coming, too.
Somehow, he wasn’t looking forward to any of that, not even a little bit. He kept thinking how he’d rather spend his days in a tiny bed in Queens, cuddling, eating pizza, building Legos and laughing at nothing in particular.
“Tony, are you listening to me?” When he turned to look at Pepper, he realized they had arrived at the airport, his car was parked and he had been staring into nothing for a few seconds. “I said give me a call when you get home, okay?” She was looking at him a little worriedly, a frown on her forehead, and he didn’t want to call her when he arrived, he didn’t even want to go home, not without Peter.
“I think I don’t love you anymore.” He told her, bluntly, then felt like an asshole when she pulled back like she’d been punched in the face. “I’m so sorry.”
“You think so or you know so?” She asked, and she didn’t look surprised, just – disappointed. Exhausted.
“I know so,” he whispered, watching her sigh as she stared out the windshield. He hated that lately he seemed to be breaking the hearts of everyone he loved. His life was a mess, he was a mess, and no matter how hard he tried to do the right thing, he always seemed to get it wrong.
“I guess I’ve known that for a while. Just didn’t want to believe it was true.” Her face was dry and her voice was steady, but he’d known her for way too long to be be fooled.
“Me neither.” He whispered, gripping the wheel and looking at his lap. It was silent for several minutes, he didn’t know what to say to her, everything sounded wrong and patronizing in his head.
“I have a plane to catch,” she finally said, opening the door, and without thinking, Tony’s hand flew to hold her arm.
“Can we talk? Later?” He pleaded, fucking terrified that her answer would be no. They were friends for so long, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life. She gave him a sweet, small smile, though.
“Yeah, sure.” Pepper made to get out of the car again, but the older boy stopped her one more time.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?” She turned to look at him and he took a deep breath.
“I do love you, you know that right? Just –“
“Yeah, I know. Me too.”
*
Tony drove back like a madman, heart pounding, thinking of the things he needed to say to Peter, the right words to mend the things that were broken. When he got to their room, though, at around 9AM, it was empty, Peter was nowhere to be found. In his panic, he didn’t even notice that his bags were still by the bed, he thought he’d left already, left without him. He ran his hands through his hair and turned around, ready rush outside and look for Natasha and beg her to tell him where Peter had gone, maybe could still reach him, but when he did, he saw the younger boy standing in the doorway.
“Pete,” he cried in relief, but the brunette was still giving him the cold shoulder, so he didn’t say anything, just headed towards his desk and started gathering some books. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
“You’ve said that already.” He didn’t even turn to look at Tony, so the older boy walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I fucked up.” His hand slid down Peter’s lean, toned bicep, tugging it softly to turn him around. He did, albeit reluctantly.
“Tell me something new.” When he finally looked at Tony, he pretended to be bored, but the older boy could see in his eyes that he was curious.
“I shouldn’t have left you. I made a mistake, I thought –“ Before Tony could go on, Peter started laughing incredulously, eyes wide.
“What, has Pepper dumped you already?! I thought you guys had three months long cycles, at least, this is a new record.” He shook his head, turning back to his desk. “I’m not playing your game anymore, go find somebody else to string along.”
“I don’t want anybody else.” Tony grabbed him again, trying to get him to turn, but Peter yanked his arm away.
“Tough luck, then. I gotta go.” He ignored the rest of the things on the desk and hurried to his bags by the bed.
“Peter, please. I made a mistake.” Tony placed himself in front of the bags with his hands up, trying to buy some more time, and Peter huffed impatiently.
“What happens when you wake up tomorrow and realize I’m the mistake?” He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the older boy. “I trusted you, I gave you everything and you took it for granted, you just fucking up and left when Pepper snapped her fingers. Seriously, Tony, do you even know what you’re asking me?”
“That’s not – I’m – Pete, come on. I’m only asking for a second chance. That’s all.” He begged, trying to hold the younger boy’s hands, but he stepped away. Peter was fucking right and if he had any sense of self respect, he would not get back together with Tony, but fuck, he had to try. He had to try, because Peter was right, he was fucking right for him.
“And I’m saying no, Tony. I don’t trust you not to hurt me again.” He shook his head, arms firmly crossed over his chest.
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Tony insisted, trying to get closer to the younger boy, but every step he took forward, Peter took a step back.
“Then what are you asking?” He tilted his head to the side, mouth set in a straight line, and Tony sighed, running his hands through his hair almost desperately. What the fuck was he asking?
“I’m asking you to let me drive you home.” He blurted out, still trying to approach Peter, and he was finally successful when he got trapped between Tony and his desk.
“And then what?” He raised his chin, defiantly, and Tony dared to touch the side of his face gently. Peter didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean into the touch either.
“And then let me show you that I’m serious about you, that despite the fact that I’m a fucking mess and nothing in my life makes sense or feels right, you do. You do, you fall into place and fit all the empty spaces and you make me feel whole and less of a train wreck. I know I fucked up and I hurt you and I broke the trust you placed in me, and I’m not asking for you to forget what I did and go right back to where we were, I’m just asking for a second chance to start over. I promise I’m not gonna need a third, I fucking swear. Please. Please. Let me drive you home.”
Tony knew he sounded desperate, and that was because he was. That was the most open he had even been about his feelings and he suddenly remembered Pepper’s words from their last fight. “You’re gonna end up alone, Tony, I mean it. If you don’t learn how to let others in, you’ll be lonely and bitter, and it’s gonna be all your own damn fault!” Tony didn’t want to be alone. And he didn’t want to swallow his feelings anymore. He just needed Peter to see that he was willing to try, that he wanted to change.
The younger man looked at him with wide eyes, apparently surprised by Tony’s honesty and the amount of words he had vomited. He bit his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Tony dropped his hand from his face and took a few steps back, sensing his answer, and maybe Peter was doing the right thing for himself, nobody deserved to be caught in the middle of Tony’s fucking mess, no one should have to deal with –
“I get to drive your car at least two hours a day.” The boy muttered, raising his eyes to meet his gaze again, and Tony’s heart raced.
“Yes, of course, as many hours as you want.” He nodded several times, not sure what exactly he was agreeing to.
“We’ll get separate beds at each motel we stop. No funny business until I say so.” Tony thought he might throw up from excitement, he kept nodding like a moron, as he stepped closer, but Peter kept a straight face, although there was a slight, barely there tilt to his lips.
“Obviously, yeah. Sure.” Tony stopped right before the younger boy and he leaned his head back a little to look him in the eyes.
“If you’re staying over with me back home, you’ll have to sleep on the floor, no snuggling in my bed.” He poked his chest with a finger and Tony’s face fell.
“But I –“
“Tony!”
“Yes, sir, whatever you want, yes. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He quickly agreed, trying not to push his luck, and that seemed to appease the younger boy, who gave him a satisfied nod. Tony just stood there, right in front of him, and so fucking close he could almost taste his sweet skin on his lips. “Is that all?”
“If you break my heart again, I’m sicking Nat on you.” Again, he poked a finger in his chest and Tony readily grabbed his skinny hand, holding it to his heart.
“Deal, I promise you won’t have to do that, I won’t disappoint you.” He stared right into Peter’s eyes and tried to make him see how much he meant every word. “Can I kiss you now?”
Peter looked at him for a few seconds, before leaning up to kiss him. Tony eagerly closed his eyes, hands falling to his waist to hold him close, when he felt those soft, thin lips touching his cheek, just to the side of his anxious mouth.
“Ask me again in a couple of days.” When Tony opened his eyes again, Peter was grinning as he pulled away and, yeah, Tony could wait his whole fucking life to kiss him again. “C’mon, let’s go, you did promise to take me home.”
As he watched the younger boy gathering his stuff to leave, his heart was filled with a weird feeling, something he wasn’t used too. It took him a while to realize he was happy and fucking excited to go with him. For the first time ever, he didn’t dread going home.
“It’s not over tonight
Just give me one more chance to make it right
I may not make it through the night
I won't go home without you"
(Maroon 5 – Won’t go home without you)
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Trust: Jake
CW: References to violence, beating, blood, noncon/dubcon, domestic abuse, child abuse, and all the other gross that goes along with the Box Boy universe
The final installment of this mini-narrative I’ve been working on where Jake and Chris took over my brain. I’m going to take a writing break for a couple of days and hopefully will start posting again on Monday! See my other BBU writings here.
Tagging @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxckfxck, @slaintetowhump
This piece features @deluxewhump‘s Alex, from her Frathouse Box Boy series - highly recommended reading! Alex is used with permission.
His fucking mugshot is all over the place.
Jake only barely remembers that part - it’d been on the second day, maybe, after he’d already been beaten and shocked and awake for nearly twenty-four hours. He has a vague knowledge of standing in front of lights, the sound of a camera, being made to turn. That knowledge comes alongside the memory of a pounding in his head, his knee, of zip-tied wrists dripping blood on the floor while the two men in front of him joked about something on TV the past weekend.
He’d forgotten it as soon as it was over - there were worse things going on in his life than having a photo taken of his black eye and busted-up face - but when he came back to school two weeks later, Jake discovered that just about everyone he spoke to had seen his mugshot on the local news website, with Public Intoxication, Criminal Assault, and Resisting Arrest listed as his charges.
It doesn’t matter that only one of those charges is real. It doesn’t matter that it’s not going to stick, and Nat has already told him that the lawyer who works with the safehouse pro bono is fairly certain they’ll drop the charge since no one can prove Jake resisted anything and the ‘cop’ in question is nowhere to be found.
It doesn’t matter, not any of it, because by the time all of that goes away - by the time he’s healed up enough to go back to class, and Chris has stopped panicking at the idea of him leaving the house, Jake is already known as the guy who got arrested for a drunk barfight after punching a cop.
He doesn’t bother telling anyone what actually happened. He doesn’t care enough about any of these people to try and change their minds about him.
He doesn’t know who he can trust with the knowledge, either. No matter that the guys had given he and Nat two different stories on how they’d been found out, and it’s possible neither one is totally true, Jake is pretty sure it had to be someone on campus.
He goes early on Tuesday, feeling like shit but kind of wanting a break from Chris’s nervous clinging, just… just for a while. He’s done more comforting and caring for Chris than taking care of himself, and it feels good to be back home - and it is home, isn’t it? At some point it became his real home - but he could use the space to just breathe, and feel sorry for himself.
He hasn't spoken to Addie since the night before the raid. Just texted after he got back to let her know an emergency had come up and they'd talk again when he could.
It’s not fair to her, but on the list of things that changed right before he got turned in… meeting Addie is the only big one.
The idea that he got turned in by his fucking girlfriend seems so fucked-up and cliché and weirdly old-fashioned, somehow, that he refuses to think too hard about it. But… if it was her… if she would have sent Chris back to that motherfucker… he has to know.
He’s staring off into space over a cappuccino in the student center coffee shop when movement in front of him catches his eye.
“Um. Hey.”
Jake takes a deep breath at the familiar voice, raising his eyes to see… the frat guy. Alex Something-Something. The one that came and asked him about ways to get a Box Boy to pass because he wanted to take his frat’s human mascot or whatever out in public without people knowing what he was.
The guy looks half-awake, a coffee in one hand and the other resting on the strap of the backpack hanging off one shoulder, wearing a big hooded pullover with his frat’s symbol on the front and blue jeans.
Jake stares up at him, and thinks, you fucking bought one. A bit of anger twists in his chest, but Jake’s too fucking tired to hold onto it. His frat had bought a person, sure, but he couldn’t stay mad at someone who had really been trying to learn. Jake had messages on his phone from some friends who said there was a frat guy kind of nosing around for more info while he was gone, maybe going to join the movement.
It wasn’t fair to judge him by what he’d allowed to happen if he was going to try and do something about it now. What matters is that you leave, he reminds himself, thinking of his mother and Nat and the conversations he’s had, again and again, with people who had to fight between standing still and putting themselves at risk, even in small ways. What matters is that you choose, once or twice or four times or however many times it takes, not to watch it happen again.
He couldn’t hold on to anger when he saw the signs of someone wanting to change. He was too exhausted, carrying too great a weight on his own, and too scared that his one attempt to open up and meet someone had resulted in putting the lives of Antoni and Leila and Chris at risk.
He’d been the one having nightmares, the house turned upside down again and Chris dragged into the middle of the living room, a knee jammed in his back, screaming and screaming for help that Jake couldn’t give because his fucking girlfriend held him down.
If it had been Addie all along, Jake would never date again. He honestly feels like the stupidest asshole on earth for having taken the risk at all. He needs to call her again, he needs to set up a meeting or some kind of dinner date or something. He needs to tell her that he’s scared.
Instead, he’s here way too early on a Tuesday morning, trying to figure out how scared he gets before he’s brave enough to take the risk of letting someone new in.
“Hey,” He says, buying himself a little time to think by taking a sip from his cappuccino, ruining the little heart the barista had drawn into the foam. “You’re on campus early. No house party last night?”
The guy gives him a weird look - like he’s looking for the insult and isn’t sure if he’s found it or not. “Last night was Monday.”
“Since when does that stop a frat house?”
There’s a pause, and the guy quirks kind of a half-sided smile, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay, fair enough. Some of the other guys had a couple people over to play COD, so I guess technically you’re right. Don’t be a dick about it, though, okay?”
“Sorry,” Jake says, and honestly, he kind of means it. This Alex guy’s pretty nice, and the longer he’s thought about it the more Jake is certain that he definitely isn’t the one who turned them in. Even if he’d been kind of complacent in stuff, he just… isn’t that kind of person. Jake can tell, deep in himself, that he’s not. “Sorry. I’m kind of an asshole, I probably should have warned you.”
“You, uh. You did, Jake.”
Jake raises his eyebrows, surprised the frat guy remembered his name at all. “I did?”
“Yeah, like… the first time we ever spoke, man. It was maybe the third thing you even said to me, that you’re an asshole about, uh… the stuff. You know. That we talked about.”
“Oh.” Jake clears his throat. His voice was back to normal - the first week it’d been hoarse, the screaming had turned the inside of his throat into raw meat, barely able to swallow the warm tea that Antoni brewed in massive amounts with plenty of honey. He’d made soup with carrots and ginger and some kind of yogurt and Jake had had to insist Chris not try to feed him like his hands were broken, not just bruised. “Sorry. I’ve had, um. It’s been a weird couple of weeks.”
“Yeah, I heard about that.”
Jake’s eyes narrow as the guy sits down in the chair across from him, sipping his coffee, gripping onto the cup nervously. “Did you?”
“Uh. Yeah. The, um… you know, someone I knew showed me… your, uh. We were talking about it in class last week.”
Jake closes his eyes, slowly. Even after two weeks of rest, it’s hard to open them again. “Of course you were.”
“I mean… man, it’s not every week someone who sits three rows down gets arrested for fighting cops.”
“I wasn’t-” Jake cuts himself off, his hands tightening around the cappuccino. “Never mind.”
“Nah, man, I’m teasing you. Look, I was going to hit up the library before, um, before our Ethics class.”
Jake snorts. One possibility - the handler had told him it was the Ethics in Political Philosophy professor who turned them in. Could be him. Could be the landscaping company guy down the street, like they’d told Nat. Could be Addie. Could be the fucking yoga instructor who smiled at Chris and complimented his fucking posture, could be-
He catches his thoughts before they can take off, drag him down into depression again.
“I’m about to go beg for mercy before that class,” Jake says, dryly, and watches Alex smile in response. “Since I missed, what, four classes. And he’s not exactly known for being nice about that shit. Can’t exactly say my grandma died when the whole fucking campus has seen my face all bashed up, huh?”
“Oh. Uh, well. You don’t… actually, that’s why I’m glad I saw you so early.” Alex sets his coffee down - he’s been sipping it steadily - and reaches over to unzip the backpack currently sitting at his feet, digging around inside of it. “I figured I’d catch you before class started, but this is better. Um.”
“Why? You want to help me beg?”
It’s Alex’s turn to snort. “No thanks. I try not to ever look him in the eyes, let alone ask him for anything. No, I wanted to talk to you because… here.” He pulls out a stack of papers more than an inch thick and sets them on the little table between them.
Jake blinks, and looks down. “What is this? Is this the shit I gave you? You’re… giving it back?”
“Fuck, no. No way, man. I… no. I want to keep those. This is, uh, this is two weeks of notes.” Alex pats the top of the paper like a car salesman patting the hood of a car, grinning at him with kind of absurd, sweet pride in his eyes. “I talked my adviser into printing me a list of your classes, found some people I knew in them, and, uh. Here we go. That’s notes for every single one of your classes for the past two weeks, plus copies of the assignments.” Alex pauses, then pats the pile of papers again. “Man, you are taking way too many classes.”
“Yeah, well. I have a lot of shit to do on all the other days, I kind of have to load them…” Jake leans forward, barely able to believe it as he picks up the stack and flips through it. Different handwriting and little encouraging notes in the margins, copied assignment papers. He just… keeps blinking at it.
“Yeah, I, uh. I know. I talked to some people when, you know… when it came out about the, um. Your face.” Alex waves his hand around, as if emphasizing his own absolute lack of injury.
“Who’d you talk to?” Jake is still staring at the notes, feeling and unfamiliar flutter of something like… like real gratitude. He tells himself to say thank you, and for just a second, the words stick in his throat.
It’s been Jake and Nat versus the world for so long, it’s hard to believe the world just expanded to include a whole new person he barely knows.
“Some people. You know. That, uh. Know you. I… I know it wasn’t a barfight, Jake.”
Jake’s fingers grip tightly onto the papers, and he raises his eyes to meet Alex’s sincere expression of real concern. “You do?”
“Yeah. I, uh. I had no idea shit like that even happens now… we never heard anything on the news-”
“Yeah, and you won’t.” Jake thinks of the Governor standing in the corner, hidden behind glass and shadows, laughing as they hit Chris across the hands to stop him from tapping, hit him again and again and again, the awful soundtrack of his cries layered over the top of that fucking pervert’s laughter. He’s going to fucking kill that man one day.
“Uh, Alex, I just-... you didn’t have to do this, man, that’s… really cool of you. Thanks.” He has to force out the word, but he wants to, he wants to say it. He never expected this.
He’s spent so much of his life insisting he doesn’t need charity, he doesn’t need help, and his mom will get on just fine, thanks. No, those bruises aren’t because of things at home. No, he doesn’t need to talk to the guidance counselor, no, no, no no no-... but here it’s just been done, the mercy, the kindness. None of that bullshit how are you? with the overly exaggerated concern and sadness. Alex just… helped. It throws Jake off-kilter, the same way learning how every single neighbor they had had come together to care for Chris while they were gone throws him off-kilter. “How’d you get everyone to take notes?”
Alex shrugs, drinking his coffee again, supremely pleased with himself. “I just asked, Jake. You can get a lot of stuff just by being nice to people, you know.”
What if we had told the neighbors what we were before the raid? Would they have helped us?
“I wouldn’t know. You just… asked? God, no wonder you’re Poli Sci. You’re gonna make a hell of a politician one day.”
Alex’s smile, if anything, widens. “Yeah, I hope so. Maybe I can do something about this shit, then.” At Jake’s surprised expression, he rolls his eyes. “I read your stuff, Jake. I read every single page. I’m kind of in it, now, sort of. It’s hard to know it and not, uh, think about it. So, can I ask-... your cousin, the one that you brought to class for a while-”
“Yeah.” Jake takes a chance. He takes a risk. He goes stepping voluntarily off a cliff, maybe taking Chris along with him. Somehow, though, he can’t stop himself. He’s tired of feeling alone when he’s here. He’s kind of just tired of feeling alone. “He’s a rescue.”
“Is he a… you know.” Alex’s face darkens, and he clears his throat, looking almost ashamed of himself just for saying the words. “A, uh. Where they… refurbish them? I wish I knew a better word for it.”
“There aren’t any better words for when they pull that shit on people. And… No. He’s not.”
“Oh, okay. Um. What, uh, what kind was he-... I was reading about the different, uh, kinds-”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
Alex nods, slowly, looks down at his coffee, looks back up. “Sorry. How old is he?”
Jake’s jaw tightens - not at Alex, but at the memory of the boy in the video, shaking and terrified, whimpering I’m eighteen to a room full of adults who all knew he wasn’t. “I don’t know.”
“He looks really young.”
“He is. I don’t know how young. Alex, if you… if you tell someone about this shit, about him, they’ll take him away and send him right back. You get it?”
“Yeah. I get it. Except… d’you mind if I tell, uh, my, um… our… my friend? That I talked to you about before? If it comes up that getting, uh, rescued is a, uh, a thing? That, that maybe… I don’t know, maybe he could… go home with somebody. Have a home, like that kid has with you.”
“The kid’s name is Chris,” Jake says, quietly. “He picked his name himself. There’s a couple more where we live. When they’re ready, they move out, and they start new lives. Chris, it’ll take him a while.” If ever. “Look, I, um, this was… was amazing, what you did, getting all those notes put together. I don’t know how to thank you for it, really, saying ‘thanks’ just feels like it doesn’t really cut it, you know?”
Alex nods, finishing his coffee up and setting the empty cup down on the table, decisively. “It’s no problem, man. I get it. I’m just, uh. I’m just glad everything worked out.”
Did it? Is that what happened?
“Me, too,” Jake says, aware of how heavy his voice sounds, how false the sentiment. “Look, I, uh, I can’t bring Chris on campus anymore. There’s a possibility we were… found out… because of that.” His voice catches in his throat, but Jake pushes down the guilt. He has time for that later. “So… you won’t see him anymore.”
Alex is silent, for a long moment. Then he says, almost hesitantly, “What about meetings?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What if I… go to meetings? Do the, um. The… you called them ‘rescues’? Do they go to meetings? If I go to them, if I start, uh, going to them… would I see any? Be able to talk to them? Or…”
“Yeah. Rescues go, sometimes. They give talks about their lives, and everything. Antoni - sorry, I have a, uh, there’s one I live with right now named Antoni - he’s given talks on his life as a Domestic before. I don’t know about Chris, though, he, um... Chris struggles with-”
Chris would go into dark corners with anyone who smiled and touched his face and I don’t always trust the very people who are risking themselves to help us. Not with him. Not when he’s so easy to hurt, and easier to convince that you didn’t.
“That’s okay,” Alex says quickly. “It was just. He seems like a cool kid, I saw you guys over at the yoga class a couple times.”
Finally, Jake’s smile is genuine and real. He thinks of the mussed-up strawberry blond hair spread across the pillow when he woke up this morning, Chris mumbling to himself and shifting into the warm spot Jake’s body had made when he got out of bed. One arm flinging out to search for human contact. How young and soft and sweet he looked, in that moment, like a kid ignoring his alarm clock.
He should be in high school right now.
“He is,” Jake says, gathering up the papers from Alex, finishing his cooled cappuccino in a few quick drinks, setting it back down empty. He sticks the papers in his own bag. “He’s fucking amazing, Alex. He’s been through so much-... they’re all… they’re all fucking amazing. Do you get that? They’ve survived so much bullshit and they come out the other side and they still want to figure it out and get better. They’re amazing.”
“Yeah,” Alex says, softly. There’s a weird look on his face, one Jake can’t quite read. “Yeah, you know… they are.”
“You want to meet Chris sometime,” Jake says, pushing his chair back and standing up, pulling his backpack on over his shoulders. “You let me know. I think… I think I’d let him talk to you. Just… don’t hug him too much.”
“Does he not like that?” Alex looks up at him without standing up yet. “Ours, um, my-... the guy that lives with us… he really likes being touched. And it seems like, when Chris was coming with you…”
“No, he likes it. But he wouldn’t-... he can’t tell what kind of affection is safe, yet.” It’s as close as Jake’s going to get to explaining what Chris has been through, at least here and now. He catches someone pointing at him out of the corner of his eye and sighs.
“No, ours. Uh. Ours can’t either, exactly.” Anger flashes on Alex’s face, distant and thoughtful, and then he just shrugs. “Look, just. I hope those papers help you, man. From what Meghan said, your place was basically trash from top to bottom. I guess she talked to some people who talked to your, uh, your boss or whatever.”
Jake and Nat still haven’t talked, not really. Two weeks later and they’re still drifting past each other, tense and uncertain, each waiting for the other to be the first to bring it up. He feels his shoulder hunch slightly at the mention of her. “Yeah. It was. They left-... You know what, I don’t, um. I don’t want to talk about it. Yeah? Is that okay?”
“Yeah, man, that’s fine. Not a problem. But… if you need help again, will you, uh. Text me or something?” Alex takes a deep breath, meets Jake’s eyes, his jaw set and the open, friendly face set in an expression of stubborn determination. “I want… I want to help you.”
Alex, Jake realizes, is also walking off a cliff, hoping there’s something other than rocks at the bottom. He’s also taking a risk. He’s got his own future, and he probably never saw it including this.
“What are you, um, able to do?” Jake asks, and there’s more to his words than just the surface. A depth he knows Alex can hear. What are you willing to do?
Alex shrugs, standing up finally, giving him that bright handsome smile, politician-to-be through and through. Jake almost wants to shake his hand and the guy’s younger than he is. “Don’t know yet. But, hey, sometimes all you have to do is ask, right? Sometimes it’s just about, like, trusting people not to be utter shits for five seconds.” He moves past Jake, walking away, and calls over his shoulders, “Next time, Jake, trust me, okay? If you need help, just ask.”
He leaves, sliding out through the set of double-doors that leads in from outside, and Jake just stands there, watching him go.
Just ask.
Easy for him to say.
Harder, so much harder, for Jake to do.
He picks up his phone, staring after Alex’s backpack until it disappears into the morning, until he turns a corner down the walkway, behind a stand of trees, and is gone.
Jake hasn’t trusted anyone who isn’t a rescue since he was a little kid. No one has ever been someone he could rely on. It’s never, not once in his life, been safe to trust the people who told him to trust them. Right from the start, the people who were supposed to give him a solid foundation had been the quicksand dragging him down.
Jake dials a number and holds his phone up to his ear. After a second, Addie’s warm voice picks up, blurry with sleep. “Jake? Hey, I haven’t… you haven’t called me in a couple of weeks, are you-... what’s up? Did you get your emergency thing sorted?”
Jake swallows, hard. “Can I… can I meet you for lunch during my long break today? I have something to ask you.”
Was it you?
“Yeah… yeah, sure. I missed you, Jake.”
If it wasn’t, can I trust you to know?
“I missed you, too, Addie. A lot happened, and I just-”
“Yeah, I saw the mugshot, it’s all over campus… are you okay?”
Can I trust you to protect the rescues?
“I’m fine. Now. But, uh. There’s kind of more to it than that… I’ll tell you at lunch. Vegetarian wraps at 1:30, that sound okay? I’m buying.”
There’s a pause, and a smile in Addie’s voice. “Of course it’s okay. I can’t wait to see you.”
Can I trust you to protect Chris?
Jake hangs up, heading out himself, to look over the notes before his first class starts. Alex’s words ringing in his ears, a weight against his back. He’s never going to forgive himself for letting a fucking frat guy be more self-aware than he is.
If you need help, just ask.
Trust people.
Ask.
#whump#trauma recovery#recovering whumpee#angry caretaker#defiant caretaker#defiant whumpee#tw: police brutality (mentioned)#references to child abuse#references to domestic abuse#referenced noncon/dubcon#referenced#conditioning#bbu#box boy#box boy universe#jake the shelter guy#featuring deluxewhump's alex
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You. Are. A. Man!
Five Hargreevs x Trans!Male Reader
Plot: The reader is a transgender male who is struggling with body dysphoria and tries to deal with being reminded that he was once a female. Five is there to support him and remind him that the reader is indeed a man.
Author’s Note: To be honest, it felt weird writing this. I’m a female and I don’t feel like I should be writing this. I feel like someone with these actual experiences should write this. This is also why I’m turning to my friend Axel, who is transgender and having him help me write this. I would love to write more stuff like this in the future, so please send in more requests! Also, if you’re struggling with body dysphoria, please feel free to talk to me about what’s going on. I love you guys and I wanna help ya’ll! I love you guys and remember that you’re all special in your own way! Also go check out my Wattpad!
Warnings: BODY DYSPHORIA! Basically, if you’re sensitive to any content regarding transphobia I guess.
Requested: Yes by @rainbow-depresso-expresso
Key: E/C = Eye color; B/T = Body type; S/C = Skin color
⁂
My chest ached at the feeling of my binder crushing the two lumps of fat that remained hanging on my body. Then again, it’s my fault for making it so tight, but I’ve been wearing it all day. I just wanted to look completely flat; is that too much to ask for? To be born with the correct body and to have people accept you for who you are? I just want to look how I was meant to be born; I wanted to be born a man. Is that too hard? Is it too hard to be accepted for who I want to be, who I was meant to be? I’m not harming anyone, yet only a handful of people in my life support me rather than everyone. These people are the only reason why I stay sane. They’re the only reason I haven’t given up my dream of having top surgery. Though, the topic of transitioning from female to male didn’t settle well with my parents.
Here I am, standing in front of my body mirror with tears brimming my (E/C) eyes which were glaring at my (B/T) (S/C) body. I hate it. I hate my body. I hate every damn thing about it! I couldn’t even look at myself without feeling the dysphoria creeping up my back like it’s a damn spider. I can’t even look down without seeing the two lumps of fat on my chest and what lies between my legs, I can’t even tell my parents about what I’m feeling because I know what their views on transgender people, and they’re not positive.
It hurts to know that you can’t become who you want to be; who you are meant to be. It fucking hurts to hear people call you something that you’re not and to be constantly reminded that you’re different, and when people think of different, they think, “Oh, that’s weird.” Weird eventually leads to people thinking the people or things that are weird as inferior to them. It’s beneath them. Do you know how much it hurts to hear your loved ones bash the people in your community just because they’re different and think that they’re weird? They say those things then turn right to you and tell you that they love you for who you are. No, they don’t, but then again, they don’t know I’m the very thing they despise.
It’s scary to know they if they found out your secret, you’ll change right before their eyes into a hideous, mutated monster. They’ll kick you out, act like they don’t know you, humiliate you and force you to wear the clothes they want you to wear, and they’ll do whatever they can do to convince you it’s a phase and you aren’t who you think you are. I’m terrified of the day they remind me constantly of the things that make me what they want me to be.
I’m so fucking insecure about how my shirt hugs my body, and how I can’t wear underwear without wanting to bawl my eyes out because they’re not boxers. Sure, I have other insecurities that everyone else has, such as how some people don’t like the size of their nose, the color of their eyes, or even the amount of fat they have on their bodies. I can’t change myself though without anyone really noticing what I’m trying to achieve. I had to convince my parents I was just going through a phase just so I could get my hair cut short enough to where it chopped off some of the dysphoria I carried around.
You wanna know what hurts the most, though? Fearing that the love of your life is going to leave you for who you are. You fear that soon he’ll realize the mistake he’s made and walk right out the door. He’ll lose feelings and start to distance himself, whether he realizes it or not. He said he loved you, but he can’t just be with you. Maybe somewhere he still loves you, right? He loved you, did he though? If he really loved you, he would’ve stayed and worked shit out, but instead, he became disgusted with who he associated himself with.
It first starts with him not wanting to kiss you in public. You think that he just hasn’t been comfortable with PDA lately and wants to limit it, so you brush it off. You don’t even point it out to him when you’re alone and continue to tolerate it. Soon enough it escalates into not wanting to hold your hand in public. It hurts, but you don’t bother him. It’s not until he stops doing these things even when you’re alone that it starts to bother you. It hurts, but you’re too scared to bring it up and accidentally start a fight. This isn’t the first time something like this happened to you, so you didn’t push him. You’ve learned from your mistakes, haven’t you? Your world comes crashing down and the nightmares you’ve been having for the past week finally come true. He doesn’t bother saying that he’s sorry, or that he wishes you two could just stay friends. No, he just walks right out the door without even looking back at you to see if you’re okay because he knows you’re not. He knows he broke your already cracked heart into dust, and he couldn’t give two shits.
Why would he though? Why would he want a monster like you? An abomination, that’s what you are. He couldn’t stand the thought of associating himself with you. He couldn’t handle the stares the two of you received in public. At first, you both just assumed it was because you were both men, but now he realizes it’s more than that. It’s because you’re trying to change yourself into someone you’re not. He was ashamed to be seen with you; to love you. He had to leave, he needed to. It was for the sake of his reputation he had said. He couldn’t stand to be with you because of the fact of who you are; of what you are. It’s all because you’re transgender.
As these thoughts ran through my head, my eyes grew increasingly more blurry due to salty tears blocking my vision. I felt both my bottom lip and knees tremble as my breathing grew more ragged, and it suddenly felt as if all air was cut off from my lung. My eyes screwed shut and my lips tightened shut, forcing myself to conceal my sobs. My legs gave out from underneath me, causing me to collapse to the carpeted ground of my bedroom floor and lower my head. I couldn’t look in that damned mirror anymore. A heart-wrenching wail forced itself from my body, and the sobs just came pouring out. My hands found themselves buried in my short (H/C) hair, tugging so hard at the strands that I thought I was going to rip them from my own scalp. Sob after sob, I continued to cry for what seemed like forever. Both my head and heart pounded in agony. My hands trembled and my chest heaved up and down at an increasingly fast pace as I tried to gasp for a single breath between my cries.
Fear shot up my spine as my chest ached for a different reason. I couldn’t breathe. I tugged harder at my hair and clawed at the back of my neck, hoping more pain would force my body to fight for its life and help me regain my breath. It felt like a lump of some wort was lodged in my throat, causing my body to heave forward as if I were gagging. Not to mention my nose was clogged up with snot. My vision grew foggy and my face grew hot. Would this be how I die? A pathetic mess?
I felt two arms quickly wrap around my waist and pull me into their chest. I could feel the rough texture of their jacket, but their shirt under the jacket felt smooth and soft. I could faintly hear their voice, shushing me and telling me something. They sounded calm, not panicked at all. Their touch was gentle as they brought my head to their chest, gently stroking my back with one hand and using the other to pull me close. It was still loose enough to where it didn’t feel as if I was suffocating.
I saw the familiar umbrella tattoo on the person’s wrist and the logo I had seen so many times on the person’s jacket. Only one Umbrella Academy member still wore their jacket, mostly because they were stuck in a teenager’s body and those were the only clothes that fit him. Not to mention he was too stubborn to go out and by clothes for boys his age. Physically his age, that is. I never pushed Five too many times to buy the clothes I’d die to see him wear because I just wanted him comfortable and happy. Plus, who am I to hell him what he can and cannot wear?
I was able to faintly smell the cologne he wore daily, calming me down just a tad. My throat finally ceased and allowed me to gasp for a small bit of air, but it didn’t stop me from hyperventilating. Five gently rocked me back and forth as best as he could, continuing to softly shush me and rub small circles on my back. I could finally make out what he was saying.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he mumbled, humming a soft tune that always seemed to calm me down. “I’m gonna need you to do something for me, dear, can you do that?” I whimpered pathetically and managed to nod in affirmation. He nods and continues. “I want you to breathe with me, okay?” I nod once more, desperate to come down from my panic. He starts his breathing off at a moderately fast pace, almost matching with my own. I was able to match my breathing with his own as I gripped his dark blazer. His breathing gradually slowed down, and as did mine. This wasn’t the first time Five’s had to help me, so I knew what to expect. Once my breathing was stable enough, he spoke again. “Do you need anything?” he softly asked, reaching over and grabbing a soft blanket that laid upon my bed.
“You,” I managed to choke out. My eyes burned from the salty tears, and my head ached from crying. He nods and drapes the blanket around my body and tilts my head up so he can see my face. His eyes are glazed over with empathy and care. He gently strokes my cheek with his thumb and gently presses his lips against my forehead.
“I’m not going anywhere my dear,” he assures me, tightening his embrace just a tad bit. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” I shake my head no at his question. “Do you want to talk about something good that happened today?” I’m silent at his question. Taking a deep breath, fluttering my eyes shut and trying to focus on speaking properly.
“I-I was able to put to...together an outfit that-that made me feel really masculine today,” I start off, pausing as I felt my voice grow shaky as I spoke. I breathed slowly through my nose and continued. “It-It was a pair of khakis that stopped at my knees, and-and the polo Klaus had given me for my birthday.”
“The light green one with the lemons on it?” I nod in affirmation. My heart swoons at the fact he remembers something as little as that.
“Yeah, I-I was also able to finish the load of homework that the school gave us,” I added. He smiles softly and kisses the top of my head.
“See, I told you you could get it done! I’m so proud of you,” he praises softly, keeping his voice low. He continues to ask me questions about my day, focusing on the positive aspects of it.
With a clear and calm mindset, I know none of that would happen with Five. Sure, it’s happened in the past, but Five’s different - very different considering he can teleport and he’s mentally an old man. I know I can always rely on him when it comes to shit like this. He knows I can be a bit much during times like these, and he knows that I’ll end up looking pretty fucking gross. He doesn’t care though. He’s seen a lot of shit in his life, so a red face covered in tears and snot isn’t gonna bother him. He loves me, and he’s told me this an abundance amount of times.
After helping me clean up, we both lay down on my bed with my back against his chest. He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. His chin rest on the top of my head, humming the same soft melody he sang earlier. I felt my eyes droop as a wave of exhaustion came crashing over me. My eyes would fall shut and snap back open as I would realize I was slowly falling asleep, but falling asleep meant I wouldn’t be able to hear his voice anymore.
“Get some sleep, my dear, I’ll be here when you wake,” he mumbled softly. That was the last thing I heard before falling asleep peacefully in his arms with a small smile on my face and a heart full of love.
#trans!male#trans#male reader#x reader#x male reader#five hargreeves imagines#imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves#luther hargreeves#diego hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#ben hargreeves#vanya hargreeves#Allison Hargreeves#Umbrella Academy#The Umbrella Academy#body dysphoria#transgender
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(Not Really) Quick Thoughts on FE: 3 Houses
Me? Talking about a game that’s been out for almost two years now? You best believe it.
Quick Backstory before I bullet point this shit so I can get it out of my system. I played the game the day it released years ago and more or less finished it in a week. My first route was with Black Eagles and after finishing it was ultimately unsatisfied by the ending and set it down with no intention of doing the other routes. A friend started playing it late 2019 and was fawning over Dimitri and his route. Taking her word for it, I gave the game another go and decided to finally finish it. Took me a while but I finally finished the three main routes and oh boy...
The Houses
I loved all the women in Black Eagles but the guys were meh. Caspar was fun and by far my favorite of them, but Hubert grated on my nerves and Ferdinand was sweet but because I also had Sylvain on my team, I kept confusing the two (based on appearance not personality).
The general cast of Blue Lions was by far my favorite. Every person in the house was so enjoyable and I actually loved getting the support conversations for all of them (Ashe is my favorite character). My only issue with the house was ironically Dimitri who I could not stand post time skip (a little more on that below).
By my Golden Deer run, I was mostly playing just to complete the game which might contribute to how lackluster I found them. I wanted to kill Lorenz so bad but he was so good at killing people and Ignatz was sweet but was so bad at killing people that I permanently benched him to focus on everyone else (played this one on hard mode). Almost all of their support conversations were fairly one note and after the layered convos of Blue Lions, I wanted more. Claude is incredible though and it became an inverse of my thoughts on Blue Lions.
Bonus: Yuri and Hapi were my immediate faves (even if Hapi was a glass canon on the field for half of the game) while Balthus and Constance where interesting but still meh for me.
Plot
So I picked Black Eagles house solely because I was interested about Edelgard and I definitely didn’t realize I was signing up to side with the one starting a fucking war. While I loved Edelgard throughout, I found the actual route complicated for me, especially after the time skip where I was taking down people I didn’t want to take down. I was left feeling like I was following the bad guys even as the game tried to say otherwise and it left me with a bad taste. In retrospect, I’m sure the devs didn’t really intend for you to do this route first judging by how little they go in the way of explaining certain things such as Byleth and Those Who Slither In the Dark. Overall, I understood why Edelgard was doing what she was doing, but the game thought that was enough and didn’t even try to convince me why I should side with her outside of that and it only hurt her route overall. Plus, I am still annoyed that Edelgard dealt with TWS in the epilogue and not in her actual route WHEN SHE IS THE ONE WHO WAS ARGUABLY AFFECTED BY THEM THE MOST OF THE THREE HOUSE LEADERS LIKE WTF WHY GIVE THAT MOMENT TO CLAUDE.
I’ll be honest, I remember so little of what actually happened in the Blue Lions route which I attribute to me not being able to really get on board with Dimitri since BL is more or less an intimate character focused route for Dimitri’s growth. I’m not here to bash Dimitri, I’m just saying his shifts in character happened a little suddenly and there were other things about his character that were kinda just vanilla for me. I did find it weird that we never actually saw Rhea again even though getting her back was a big thing for most of the characters and you’re kinda left to wonder what even happened to her (another moment given to Claude’s run).
And finally the Golden Deers. By the 3rd time through all pre-timeskip stuff was so insufferable to get through, but the one saving grace was Claude’s insight in all of it. It made it feel different even though the events were the same. Post-timeskip his route really shines as it is able to bridge the gap between the war and the proxy war behind it with TWS. It’s also the only route that you actually get answers for shit that the other two ignore (which thematically makes sense for those routes but still). It is ironic though that this route did more to get me to sympathize with Edelgard that her own route did. It is technically the best route of the three hands down.
Other
So Rhea. I went in not trusting her because Jeralt mentions to be on guard about her and, since I started with BE, my distrust was proven right since she is trying to rip open your heart to get Sothis back. That hatred/distrust ran through my other two routes up until the last few chapters of Claude’s where we actually get context for what was going on. I was left in a similar position that I was in with Edelgard where I could understand Rhea’s reasoning for doing everything she did, but I still couldn’t side with her considering that she is technically responsible for the worship of Crests and nobility. Also, who builds a church and places yourself on top to be worshipped? Also also, why even place such importance on Crests? I know about the interview with the developers saying she “had” to because of how humans viewed the 10 elites at the time, but I feel like there is another option to build peace between them that doesn’t involve the elevation of Crests. Also racism; really should have done more to prevent that from blossoming in the way that it did.
So Edelgard. She seems to be a hot topic on Tumblr which tracks so I’m going to traverse this with extra tact. I do love her and overall, I do agree that the system that the Church built had become corrupt. I mean when multiple children have emotional and physical scars of that corruption at school, it’s hard to argue against that. Do I agree that starting a war is the best way to change things? Before 2020, I would have said no, that there had to be another way to change things. But now? I dunno sometimes a system is too corrupt to rebuild off of diplomacy alone and it definitely wouldn’t happen quickly enough in a person’s lifetime. Given Edelgard’s shortened lifespan, I do get why diplomacy would have never worked for her. I don’t think I can ever fully support Edelgard for the war she started and for siding with TWS (I know her reasons but that’s basically making a deal with the devil) but I can’t deny that her goals are admirable at the least. Will her winning said war even change things? Well who knows. That depends on how she implements them afterward. I’ve seen lots of people claim that it’s unrealistic for her to have been successful in changing anything after the war but I don’t know about that. If anything, Rhea proved that she could mold the world however she wanted after her war and if Rhea could do it, then why can’t Edelgard.
Considering the nastiness of racism, I can’t even believe that Claude’s run of “end racism” was going to be as successful as they think. Solid baby steps, maybe? But don’t know how well that’ll actually go in the long run.
Dimitri might have been overhyped or something but I expected so much more than what I got from him. In the Academy Era, he rang fairly vanilla in that he was a kind and honorable guy but not much else. Felix mentions how savage he is, but there weren’t very many hints of that pre-timeskip (that I remember anyway). Obviously he was a ticking time bomb and later Dimitri shows that. And I was totally on board with slowly helping Dimitri become human again, but that’s not really what happened. You’re not allowed to do anything with Dimitri other than get his brief blurb in Explore or toss him into battle. I know why they did it, but because they shut him off from you so completely, I had problems being able to connect with him in the post time skip and ended up rolling my eyes whenever he started talking. It also made his change after Rodrigue died so sudden and it felt v forced for me. They really could have done a better job at it is all I’m saying.
Ashe and Mercedes had the cutest S-support epilogue and I will die for them.
Dorothea deserves the world and Yuri and Dorothea making an Opera troupe for commoners is the best thing.
I wanted so much more for Leonie but they stuck so hard to the Jeralt fangirl label that she never really grew beyond that.
#fire emblem three houses#fe:3h#edelgard#rhea#claude#kal rants.#long post is long#I swear if I get even one note on this I will be surprised#put the read more there because I figure knowing my opinions on the houses is enough to know whether you care to read about my opinions#about everything else
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