#idk why i’m treating this so carefully but i feel like i have to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

possamble · 5 months ago

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Like take for example how she treats healing Laios leg!! We *never* see someone who was healed have lasting symptoms from a heal. It *itches* terribly — Laios looks like he will scratch it raw. The itching implies an incomplete heal — you only itch that bad when something is being regrown or scabbing like when you get tattoos. There’s something that needs to finish healing. This scene always stood out to me— because Falin notices and *heals* it. And that brought up a ton of questions for me (We see her cast magic, was it to soothe the itching? A phantom pain? Why was it itching in the first place? Didn’t Marcille finish the job? Why was he having after effects we never see someone have any before?) and i’m breaking my brain over it because is this an sign of Marcille’s engagement with healing in general? Perfunctory—a means to an end? Morals? I feel like there is something there for us because that scene wasn’t necessary to the plot so why did Ryoko Kui add this interaction? I think how Marcille engages with healing was telling us a lot more than I previously realized because she was in a medical researcher position before coming into the dungeon however when we see how this was practically applied by her was really interesting!! She’s so divorced from feeling empathy for the pain of healing and i think that’s some sort of self-preservation instinct. Idk i just feel like her engagement with healing is so fucking fascinating when juxtaposed with her beliefs on death pls share thots if any

I think what gets hidden in the details about Marcille’s healing is that no, she’s not a talented cleric and healer in the way that Falin is. But Fantasy settings tend to relegate healing towards “holy” and “good” magic that never causes harm—

and Marcille is what you’d get if you put a doctor and a surgeon with a modern, more realistic approach towards medicine in a genre that doesn’t usually allow for that.

Like, you’ll see surgeons or doctors secretly being incredibly efficient serial killers in TV thrillers everywhere—but a fantasy series with a cleric or healer that’s secretly great at killing is a bit more rare to find(though not nonexistent, admittedly). Healing magic tends to be painted as either a religious discipline that’s not accessible to those who don’t have a tie to a deity or some ineffable force in the universe, or a matter of accessing some natural “life force” that exists in all living beings.

Dungeon Meshi, of course, loves bending fantasy conventions in the most incredible ways, so that’s not how it works here. The series allows itself to contend with the fact that healing a human body requires extensive and painstakingly detailed knowledge of that body.

The reason that Falin might appear to be a much more talented healer than Marcille is because Kui dresses her up in all the archetypal traits of a Caring Cleric, and that immediately clicks with readers expecting fantasy conventions in ways that Marcille's expertise doesn't.

This isn’t to discredit Falin, obviously. She is a talented healer, as attested to by Marcille herself:

But the interesting thing is that she does it all on instinct, so it’s not an exact knowledge. Furthermore, she uses the gnomish system of healing, which is implied to rely more on the judgment and knowledge of natural spirits (and therefore takes less mana). So it’s not hard to imagine that she would have less exact knowledge of how the human body operates than Marcille does as a medical researcher.

And that in and of itself raises questions: In a world where magic can immediately re-attach a limb, why would medical research be necessary? But Dungeon Meshi makes it clear that healing magic isn’t perfect, nor “holy” magic—it’s simply magic, like any other, carefully tailored to operate within the confines of what a human body needs in order to keep living. It’s not able to cure everything, and it especially seems to have gaps in terms of being able to treat illnesses that aren’t immediately solvable injuries.

And that all ties into Marcille's attitude towards it: It's a scientific and magical discipline like any other that requires careful study. There's nothing inherently good or bad about it—it was made by people, for people, and what matters is how you use it.

So, Marcille was at the academy, studying the ways that illness happens in a body, and carefully writing new magic to counteract or at least mitigate it.

(How I interpreted this was that she was likely part of research teams dealing with complicated things like autoimmune diseases, cancer, and other things where the body isn’t technically injured by a foreign element, but erroneously harming itself due to internal reasons.)

For me, this kind of explains her approach to pain in healing:

Honestly, what this immediately reminded me of was that a friend of mine had to have surgery on their throat when they were younger, and part of the procedure was waking them up without anaesthesia right after the surgery to make sure that they could still feel everything. They told me it was the worst pain they’d ever felt in their entire life—but from a medical perspective, it was necessary to make sure that none of the critical nerves in the neck had been affected.

Sometimes in medicine, pain is necessary because it’s not some uncomplicated and bad thing—it’s a response of your nervous system, and sometimes the only indicator that your body is still working the way it should. And I think this is the mindset that Marcille has, which is why she seems so blase about it—she doesn’t think that she’s actually hurting people, it’s just a necessary part of the healing process.

And in some ways, she just sees it as a realistic downside of the fact that you have to recover quickly in dungeon situations:

Normal recovery would take months. Healing magic shortens that to a few seconds. The pain is a result/tradeoff of forcing something that would naturally take a long time into such a short timespan. This all makes sense and is Right and Correct and Normal in Marcille's mind. It's not that she lacks empathy and doesn't care enough about not harming her patients: she doesn't think that it's "harm" at all.

Not a shred of guilt in that face before causing extreme pain. Contrast this to her constant fussing over Izutsumi on the smallest things—it's hard to believe she wouldn't even be a little apologetic if she actually believed this would be hurtful in a way that matters.

I think this is overall, less indicative of any lack of empathy so much as her incredibly stubborn and sometimes ridiculous way of compartmentalizing things to her own internal rules. I’d even argue that this mindset is preferable in surface situations, where people have the luxury of time. Dungeon healing hurts because it has to be fast and instantaneous—but if you're just treating a broken bone that can be put in a cast with slower healing magic to help, wouldn't you prefer that over an instant heal with the chance to cause brain damage, no matter how minuscule the chance is? Shouldn’t your long-term health matter more than short-term recovery and some pain?

To touch on Laios’s leg injury—we actually do see this kind of reaction to healing magic later on in the manga. When Marcille is teaching Laios how to heal, she ends up bowling him over because her cut gets super itchy:

but then she reacts positively and tells him that it's supposed to happen, before trusting him enough to try it on Senshi.

So while yes, it was an “incomplete” heal, I don’t think it was particularly telling about her approach to healing. And honestly, judging by the fact that it only distracted him when he was relaxed enough to be cleaning his armour before bed, it looks like she connected all the major muscles and nerves enough not to cause pain or risk re-injury by moving, but just left superficial stuff for Laios’s body to naturally heal.

Her mindset makes sense in context: She also had to heal Chilchuck and Senshi, while conserving enough energy to immediately start digging for Falin’s body and potentially do a very taxing resurrection spell as soon as possible.

After that, Falin healed the rest of Laios’s leg injury in a situation where it wasn’t needed, but there were no other high stakes to discourage it. Also, she can’t bear to see others in pain. ambrosiagourmet already did an incredible analysis of how this empathy doesn't really signify perfect altruism so much as Falin's deep discomfort with having to witness pain, so I won't go into that too much—but the important part is, Falin isn't inherently a more caring healer than Marcille. They are both making decisions for the patient based on their own approaches to healing—it's just that Falin's approach is preferable for dungeoneering overall.

(In Marcille's defense, it seems that dungeons are an incredibly specific environment that falls way outside the realm of what's actually taught to mages in most schools. Being a combat-oriented mage actually seems pretty frowned upon.)

So, in a lot of ways, Marcille is both realistic about dungeon healing (mana conservation by not doing full heals when not necessary, thinking about pain as the condensation of the time it would have taken to naturally heal, etc.) and very unrealistic about it. What she doesn’t realize is that the pain matters: In a dungeon, people have to be up and ready to continue right away, over and over. If it hurts every time, that makes them very averse to being healed, stressed out about getting injured, and affects their performance as dungeoneers.

All that to say… I personally believe that Marcille is very passionate about healing people. Not healing magic necessarily, but medicine as a whole. It’s not just a means to an end—it’s her main area of study only second to her research into ancient magic. And sure, she might have gotten into it because of her fear of death—but what I think people don’t give enough credit to is that her motivations changed from when she was a child.

You see it here, when she’s laying her dream outright to the Winged Lion:

She might be kinda racist herself, hypocritical, and short-sighted (mostly out of ignorance, I’d argue), but at heart, she hates that people hurt each other. She hates that long-lived races look down on everyone else just because of lifespan. She has—arguably very correctly—identified the disparity in lifespans as one of the main causes of interracial strife, and she wants to get rid of it so that everyone can fully understand and relate to each other as equals.

And in some ways, it’s not even that insane of a dream.

Knowing that people used to live as long as she’ll have to, and something changed in the eons since, is it really that weird for her to want to change it back somehow?

But all that aside—the most important part of this to me is that… originally, she wasn’t actually that hung up on completely equalizing lifespans. She got into medicine because she wanted to, at the very least, close the gap as much as she could in her very long life.

She was realistic about it at first. She thought that, by studying ancient magic’s ability to pull from the infinite, she could harness that infinite energy in tandem with medical knowledge to give more life to the short-lived races.

But as she says it herself, it changed when she realized that she doesn’t have time to gradually unravel it on her own.

So, yes. She got desperate. She got crazy. In light of all she did as dungeon lord, it’s easy to assume that she never cared much about healing as a profession, and is just a self-obsessed little girl caged by her trauma and trying to change the entire world to make sure she doesn’t have to be hurt.

And… she is all that. She's my blorbo supreme but I'll be the first to insist that she is very much a complete hot mess. But my point is that these were very extreme circumstances, and Ryoko Kui has given us all the understated evidence we need to know that she’s actually a very passionate doctor otherwise. This is the girl who freaks out if she’s not useful to other people and not allowed to help:

Did actually get excited about making safe dungeons for helpful purposes beyond just learning more about ancient magic to fulfill her dream:

And in tandem with her own personal trauma—not in opposition to it or to obscure it—cared about making life more peaceful and equal for everyone in the world. Not to mention, she had to have done some insane work to be acknowledged as the most talented researcher at the academy and be allowed onto teams that were researching new healing magics.

TL:DR, I think she has a lot of empathy for people and passion for helping them, it’s just expressed in a way you wouldn’t expect in a fantasy because Ryoko Kui doesn’t fuck around with her storytelling and genre subversion. She might not be a good archetypal healer, but she's an extremely knowledgeable doctor with a point-blank and intense attitude towards healing and medical treatment (see: her strictness about physical touch when teaching Laios about healing).

For me, all evidence points towards her going back to what she was doing before the story on top of her duties as Court Mage, kind of becoming a sort of Surgeon General for Melini as the head of health and safety for the country and whatnot.

PS. I will admit that there's explicit evidence she's not good at healing here:

But this was also like... chapter 3. Written years ago. I personally feel that everything Kui has said about Marcille's background since is enough evidence that it was just a one-off joke before she had an airtight idea about who Marcille was and would be, but I'll concede that it's mostly conjecture.

But again, as I said, I believe that while she might not be the best at the heal spell that's used in Dungeons, she's passionate about being a medical researcher and the field of medicine as a whole.

#asks #marcille donato #marcilleposting #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #dungeon meshi meta #i guess #this is kinda long under the cut im sorry #also i guess. keep in mind that im very biased towards healers in games and a marcille apologist so #that may have colored the way i view things #i just... yes marcille is great at explosions but that's because she's kind of an insane all-rounder.#like sure she may not know how to do everything but she *understands* every school of magic #she straight up mentally overwrote cithis's illusion on the spot bc she knew how it was cast #i wish people leaned into her having primarily been a medical researcher more!!#sure falin's great at healing on the spot but #marcille is who you want as the head of a hospital when you've there for a chronic condition that needs long term treatment #yknow???#her trauma forms so much of who she is yes #but she's also still more than just her trauma and being outside of the dungeon would bring that to the surface again

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sweetandscarlet · 2 years ago

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unrequited love | pt 1

notes: hi everyone ! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something, unfortunately it was out of my control up until recently and i’m finally not shadowbanned :)

words: 4.2k

warnings: stepmom!wanda (32), stepdaughter!reader (22 & afab), yearning, alludes to smut in certain parts of the chapter ! eventual smut, eventual cheating - this chapter is just fluff, reader being an absolute simp for wanda and plot building. next chapter which i’m working on will literally just be pure smut (with a little bit of plot, idk how many parts i want to make this tbh). minors DNI!

guilt had become the constant in your life.

you had never felt such a strong feeling before, and as much as you tried to swallow it down and go about your day as normal, the gnawing ache of shame ate away at you until all you were left with is a hollow shell of disgrace.

in your defence, you and your little life were perfectly fine before now, it was you, your dad, a few close friends and your wonderful girlfriend who you had been dating for quite a while now. you were content and happy until a certain woman came crashing into your life unexpectedly like a bulldozer and flipped your world and everything you knew upside down.

albeit, none of this was her fault. all she did was meet a man and fall in love. how was she supposed to know the man had a shitty daughter?

well, that's how you'd best describe yourself. you felt sinful and disgusting every time your eyes stayed fixated on the older woman for a second too long. every time a smooth patch of her skin was exposed from her shirt innocently riding up and all you wanted to do was reach out and feel her soft, milky skin under your fingertips.

or your mouth, either or was fine with you.

you hated how much of the woman consumed your thoughts throughout the day. what she was doing, if she was having a busy day at work, if she'd had plenty of sleep, drinking water, was taking care of herself.

all thoughts that you should be relating to your girlfriend, not your stepmother.

but alas, you were and all you could do was pretend like the woman wasn't the first thing on your mind when you woke up and the last thing when you went to sleep.

it was proving really hard to do when she wasn't a cliched wicked stepmother. you honestly would prefer it if she was, but instead, she was perfect, poised and so, so pretty. she treated you like you were her own and was so sweet to you, it made you feel sick.

you were now six months into your spiral of shame. your stepmother and father were happy and your girlfriend was still blissfully unaware of the crush you harboured for the older woman. you kind of wanted to pride yourself on how well you've hidden the feelings. it was painfully difficult, to say the least. she was and is the most beautiful woman you had ever laid eyes on. so smart and funny and charming and-

"y/n, are you listening to me?"

your head shot up as a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. the voice belonged to a concerned redhead who was perched in front of the island in the kitchen, her hands skillfully cutting up vegetables for the dinner you'd be sharing.

"i- sorry wanda, i'm just tired. i didn't get much sleep last night. what were you saying?"

the older woman frowned at that. her mind thinking of all the possibilities as to why. were you stressed about university? girlfriend trouble? the strong urge to fix whatever problem you had quickly replaced whatever thought wanda currently possessed.

"aw no, how come, my love? are you using the tea i bought for you? you know, my mother always said-"

"chamomile tea helps you get eight hours of sleep, i know, i know. are you sure you're not just making that up?" you tease, an eyebrow wiggling at her as she continues to dice her bell peppers. "i mean, as a soon-to-be holder of an english lit degree, i for one have never heard of that saying"

wanda eyed you playfully, her hands still working on autopilot as the knife carefully sliced the ingredients below her. you had seen her do it plenty of times before and it still never failed to impress you.

"well, smarty pants i think you've forgotten i'm sokovian. ever heard of a little something called translation?"

you rolled your eyes at that. of course, you hadn't forgotten, it was also another aspect of wanda that consumed your every waking thought. the way her r's rolled off of her tongue, her accent growing thicker the sleepier or more frustrated she got.

everything about her voice never failed to make you ache with want.

“ya trenirovalsya, mozhesh' skazat'?” you gaily shot back, a small smile playing on your lips when you saw the redhead's eyes widen in surprise.

“my my, smart girl indeed, i can tell. you’re getting better" wanda mused as her gaze from you dropped to finish off the last of the vegetables before turning around to put them all in the simmering pan on the stove. "now, why aren’t you sleeping properly?"

your eyes slowly fell, the gnawing guilt returning as they landed on the swell of the sokovians' ass.

“uh, no reason” you mumble in response, your eyes staying trained on how well the jeans hugged every curve of hers. “i think it might be uni stress”

i’m lying. it’s you, i can’t stop thinking about you.

wanda placed the cutting board on the countertop next to the stove before turning back to face you. your eyes instantly dart up and you just pray she didn’t catch your lingering stare.

if she did, wanda didn’t show any sign of it.

“i’m sorry darling, is there anything i can help you with?”

you shot her a lopsided smile before clearing your throat and answering with a “i’ll be okay once finals are over, but thank you”

“i might not be your mumiya but i’m always here if you need me”

i do need you. in more ways than you know.

“that's mommy, right? well, you're a better one than she'll ever be”

it didn't dawn on you until a few seconds later. your mouth just moving without ever thinking about how it would sound.. or maybe you're just overanalysing this? your gaze drops to your hands as you mindlessly start playing with your fingers nervously. not everyone believes that word to be sexualised, right?

“i-“ wanda cleared her throat, turning to busy herself with the pan behind her. “i’m glad you think of me as such, malysh”

the older woman gripped at the wooden spoon she used to stir the food with. “now, why don’t you get your father from his study and i’ll dish everything out”

you were thankful wanda had yet to turn around, as a shy blush must be evident on your cheeks right now. “sure, wanda. thank you, by the way, it smells great”

the redhead couldn’t help but beam at your approval as she continued to mindfully stir the food before turning the gas off and moving the pan to an empty burner.

when she heard your footsteps retreat, wanda let out a sigh as her hands fell to grip the counter in front of her, willing herself to calm her beating heart and the pulse that formed much lower.

ᗢ

"so, how's it going with kate, y/n?" your father wasn't one to ask too many questions. the man would always let you do as you please, even as a kid. of course he was protective, but he also trusted your decisions. thus, usually keeping his curiosity to himself. "i haven't seen her around here much lately"

you continued to chew your food before raising your head to meet his small smile and kind eyes. "we've just both been busy, i guess. i am seeing her tomorrow though, we're going to a party and then going back to her house after"

the sound of cutlery clattering on a plate made you jump, the noise cutting through the silence of the room like a knife and you instantly turned your head to where the sound came from.

wanda sat there, unfazed at her disturbance as she stared back at you. her eyes narrowed in on you as she pursed her lips. "a party? what kind?"

you let out a chuckle at the question, your mind not quite registering the redhead's hard gaze and peeved demeanour. "the kind that you don't really remember the next day? you've heard of them, right?"

wanda sucked the tip of her tongue between her pearly white teeth and fought the urge to correct you on your bratty attitude. in actuality, if she was being honest with herself, you didn't have one at all, you were being your usual playful self. the older woman was just taken aback and albeit slightly annoyed at the mention of your partner.

but, she was just looking out for you, right? like a good mother should, even if she was a step.

"yes, sweetheart, parties were around in the eighteen-hundreds"

the sound of your laugh helped ease some of the tension in the sokovians shoulders and she couldn't help but let a smile shine through as it echoed throughout her mind and invaded every sense of her being.

"damn, you all partied during the ipswich witch trials? that's hardcore, wanda, even for you"

wanda chuckled in response. "oh yeah, but i was just celebrating because i wasn't caught"

you sniggered at that, replying with a, "do you reckon i could still get the bounty if i ratted you out?" before returning to your food.

the redhead let out a playful gasp, her arm stretching over the corner of the dining table to swat at your shoulder. "you wouldn't dare! plus who would make you all these meals if i'm burned at the stake?"

you hummed at that, your finger coming to rest on your chin as you tapped at it, pretending to linger in thought on the question. "you make a point and i don't think i could survive without them"

the redhead beamed proudly at that before she heard the telltale sign of her husband's impatience and feelings of being left out as he cleared his throat.

"so, about that party, y/n. when are you thinking of leaving?" he asked, before placing his fork on his now-empty plate.

wanda mentally rolled her eyes, her sour mood instantly returning at the question. that was until an idea popped into her head and the scowl that formed on her face quickly inched into a smirk. "how about you stay in with me tomorrow night instead? your father will be gone for his conference and i could sure use the company"

you struggled to swallow down your food as your mouth dried up and you immediately reached for the glass of water to ease it down.

"oh, that's a great idea!" your father intervened, the sound of wood scraping against the floor as he pushed back his chair and stood up. "a bit of mother-daughter bonding time might help alleviate your stress"

your eyes stayed trained on your plate as you tried to muster up any excuse you could think of as to why that wouldn't be such a great idea.

unfortunately, your brain short-circuited and your mind went blank.

"i- but what would i tell kate and the rest of my friends?" you asked, your head raising to meet the redhead who was already staring back at you.

you wanted to audibly groan at the way she looked at you. soft, doe eyes bore into you and you found it impossible to deny her.

"you know what, just leave it with me, i'll tell them you're sick or something and i need to take care of you"

wanda's plump lips instantly curled into a smile at your response. exactly y/n, she thought. you need to take care of your mommy.

ᗢ

the next morning you were awoken by the sound of a sweet voice humming the tune of a song you didn't know, the sound started small until it faded into earshot and grew louder.

you turned your body onto your back to stretch, and your eyes soon flickered open to see wanda towering over you. a mug of steaming tea in one hand and two slices of toast on a small plate in the other.

"good morning, i thought i'd bring you breakfast in bed" the older woman smiled before placing them down on your bedside table.

when your eyes properly came into focus, you gulped dryly at the sight.

wanda was wearing a silk scarlet nightgown with a matching short robe to match, the colour was a striking contrast to the milky skin that lay underneath and your eyes flashed down to see she had yet to put on a bra. the cold morning air was clearly evident in the room as your eyes trailed away from pebbled nipples that strained behind her nightwear.

shit.

"thank you," you managed to croak out, one of your hands reaching up to wipe away the sleep from your eyes, using your other to push yourself upwards to rest your back on your pillows. "i'm excited for today, do you have anything in mind for what we should do?"

it took everything in you to not reach out a hand to yank your stepmom into your bed and have your way with her. because, god, how you longed to feel the warmth of her body underneath you as you trail your fingers over the apex of her hips and down to her soft thig-

"me too, malysh. i have some errands to do first, so while we're out we could do some shopping and grab some food?"

you nodded in response, a shy smile playing on your lips as the older woman's eyes bore into you. under wanda's gaze, you felt minuscule like a goddess who was staring down at you, a lesser deity.

but the sokovian never saw you in such a light, in her mind you were a woman worth worshipping. a magnificent being that should be held up on a pedestal for all the world to adore.

"good, i'll go and get dressed while you eat and get ready"

ᗢ

a few hours had passed since you woke up, and both you and wanda were now walking around the mall aimlessly with no destination or rush to be anywhere. the two of you just spoke about anything and everything until the occasional gasp left your lips when something caught your eye in a store window.

"do you want it?" the redhead would ask, her eyes trained on your face to gauge your reaction.

most of the time your eyes would widen upon seeing the price before sighing in defeat and setting it back on the shelf and muttering, "no, it's okay. i'll wait until my birthday or something"

against your wishes, wanda would pick up what you held in your hands moments ago before waltzing over to the tills, her hips swaying with purpose as she quickly pays for it. wanda then walks back to you like it was no big deal with the said item now in a plastic bag as she hands it to you.

soon enough you were now walking through the mall with a few bags in your hands and wanda carrying the rest in hers.

guilt weighed heavy on your chest as you looked down at what you were holding. wanda, who was walking a couple of steps in front of you turned to see your bottom lip jutted out and your eyebrows contorted.

"what's wrong, detka?," her legs came to a stop and her face was quickly etched with worry. "do want to leave?"

your eyes instantly met hers and you could feel the guilt building up your throat, threatening to spill at any given moment. "what? no, of course not! i'm sorry... i- i just feel bad that you've gotten me all of this stuff. i can't imagine it came cheap"

the sokovian shook her head with a chuckle. "don't worry about money, sweetheart i'm fine.. plus you deserve it. i want to spoil you, so don't feel bad about it"

as much as you wanted to argue that you didn't deserve it, you bit your tongue and smiled in response. "you're right, thank you wanda. i am really grateful for everything, although i do still feel bad, is there anything i can do for you?"

full pink lips curled into a small smirk at the question. there was definitely something she wanted you to do but she knew she could never ask that of you, could never step over the line and cross a boundary that should remain uncrossed.

you watched as wanda pondered for a moment before shaking her head. "thank you, y/n. but, i don't want anything in return, just being with you today is enough"

your heart swelled ten times at that and you instantly felt your heart beat deep and fast in your throat. this woman was going to be the death of you.

ᗢ

"so, how about i open a bottle of wine and you pick a movie for us to watch?" the sokovians' voice echoed loudly in your mind, pulling your attention away from the bags filled with everything wanda had bought for you.

you raised your head to see wanda standing in front of you. the position of you on your knees on the carpeted floor instantly dawned on you as the older woman's figure towered over you. you gulped dryly before pushing yourself upwards on your hands to stand face to face with the redhead.

"of course, wands. any suggestions?" you asked meekly, shifting your weight on your feet slightly as you tried your best to maintain eye contact with her.

your stepmother shrugged in response before taking a step back you almost wanted to whine and close the distance between you but you swallowed down the urge and kept yourself still, frozen like a statue.

"your choice, dorogoy. i'll be right back with the wine" and with that, wanda took even more several steps back until the distance grew. she then rounded the sofa and entered through the swinging door and into the kitchen.

you breathed a sigh of relief, a breath you didn't even realise you were holding. you willed yourself to calm your beating heart and moved over to the cabinet beside the television, your eyes scanning the selection of movies and box sets of tv shows.

your lips instantly curled into a smile upon seeing a certain one.

you opened the glass door before sliding out the box set, your hands racing to pull out one of the discs and quickly place it into the DVD player. you couldn't wait to see the look on wanda's face when she sees the loading-screen play on the television.

you heard the door swing open once again, wanda's sweet voice sounding behind you as she began to speak. "so what did you decide on?"

a gasp left her lips when her eyes landed on the television and saw the loading screen of her all-time favourite tv show.

"oh my god, the dick van dyke show?!"

you stood to turn around and face the older woman and you felt pride beam brightly in your chest at the smile that was plastered on her face.

"yeah," you said sheepishly, your cheeks flushing a hint of pink. "i know it's your favourite"

wanda stepped closer to the sofa before reaching down to place the two wine glasses and the bottle on the table in front of it. "you're too sweet, detka. i don't even think your father remembers that"

the pride enlarged even more at the fact and you couldn't help the evidential blush on your cheeks brightening. "well, dads stupider than i thought if he doesn't remember something like that about you"

it was now wanda’s turn to blush, and as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks she quickly busied herself with opening the wine and pouring it into both glasses, more so in hers than yours.

“i’ve actually never seen it before, you know?” you mention, before kneeling off the ground and wiping your now sweaty palms onto the jeans that hugged your thighs.

“wow, really? well, there’s a first for everything," wanda smiled and you swear your heart skipped the smallest beat when you saw those dimples form in her cheeks. "i haven't seen that dragon show you like so much"

you make your way over to the sofa and plop yourself down, shifting slightly to situate yourself and get comfortable. "dragon sho- oh, you mean game of thrones?"

wanda hums in response as the rim of the glass sits perfectly on her lips to take a sip of her wine.

wanda watched intently as you mimicked her actions. the way your arm flexed when you leaned forward to pick up the glass and how your lips look deliciously wet as you licked away the lasting taste of the wine you had just sipped. it was a sight to see and it made the sokovian's head reel with lust.

"it's a great show," you finally respond, tucking your feet under yourself before leaning back onto the comfy cushions behind you. "i could show it to you sometime, maybe? it's well-acted and has great storylines in it, just be prepared for a lot of sex scenes"

wanda sniggers at that, "medieval porn? i'm sold"

you laugh loudly, the sound escaping you before you could even attempt to lower the volume. you almost want to apologise for the outburst but when you turn your head to wanda, she's staring back at you with a cheshire cat grin that eases your anxiety.

ᗢ

the night carried on smoothly, you and wanda laugh over the bottle of wine as you switch between watching the episodes of the dick van dyke show and talking about different topics and interests. the drunker you get the more random the conversations become.

and as you look at wanda, her smile reaching from ear to ear as she watches a scene unfold on the television, it only seems to make your drunken crush-filled mind worsen.

"wanda, can i ask you something?"

you clamp your mouth shut as soon as the words leave your mouth and you instantly mentally scold your brain for speaking without so much as a thought of the possible consequences.

wanda reaches forward to set her empty glass on the wooden table before shifting slightly to turn and face you. "of course, sweetheart. you can ask me anything"

you swallow dryly, making you lift your wine glass to your lips to finish off the rest of what's in there. you chew on your bottom lips nervously, your eyes staying focused on the glass in your hand. "can you.. does it make you a bad person if you're with someone and you like someone else?"

wanda's brows knit together as the words hit her ears. she stays silent for a moment before her lips part slightly, thinking of the best way to answer such a question. "i think that's a query that could have many different answers, moya lyubov"

she pauses for a moment.

just a moment and the tranquillity makes you hear your heart beat loudly in every pulse point of your body.

"why do you ask?"

you shouldn't say it. you really shouldn't.

but, the alcohol had settled within you a while ago and it left you tipsy, needy and with a newfound confidence that screamed at you to tell her everything. to just confess even if it could leave you humiliated and deflated. "well, the thing is.."

the words faded on your tongue, quickly dying as wanda's big green eyes bore into you and what felt like, your soul.

"go on," wanda urged, her arm reaching over to place a gentle hand on top of your thigh, just below your kneecap. she gave it a soft squeeze before continuing. "you can do it"

"i'm happy with kate, she's great. but, there's this other person and i just.. i don't know what to do. i feel like such a shitty person"

wanda arched an eyebrow, her lips parting just an inch. "okay, i- how long have you been seeing this other person?"

"the thing is, i haven't, it's complicated, they don't even know how i feel"

your heartbeat was deafening as it beat loudly in your ears. you should stop, this is a bad idea.

"i can't tell them because then it'll ruin everything and i like what we have right now but, i can't eat, i.. i can't sleep, they're all i think about and more"

wanda's grip on your thigh tightened as you spoke and all your brain could do was stare at her hand, using it as a fice to focus on, anything to keep your eyes from welling up and breaking like a dam as you splurge out the truth and every pent up emotion you've felt since wanda entered your life.

"oh, honey. i'm sorry this is happening, maybe you'll feel better if you're honest with this other person? i mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

you let out a shaky breath, your eyes pricking with tears as you look up from her hand and into the sea of green that lies beneath her eyes. "you could hate me"

"i don't understand- i could never hate you, y/n. how could i?"

you didn't respond, you couldn't. the words felt trapped in your mouth, the honesty dancing on your tongue in a silent battle with your brain and all you could do was hang your head in shame as wanda's body stiffened, her hand loosening its grip on you as her face soon turned to realization. "oh"

#wanda maximoff smut #stepmom wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff/reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #elizabeth olsen

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fictionfordays · 1 year ago

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Domestic Life HCs

Suguru Getou x Fem!Reader

CW: Mentions of periods, affectionate Sug', kisses, piv sex, marking, light choking, use of pet names like "good girl," oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, cum, hair pulling, slight size kink, praise, creampie, Sug' is the king of aftercare istg

A/N: Mina bby, I hope these are sufficient!<3 I wanna sit on his face

Back to Main Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | 100 Followers Masterlist

SFW

❀ He loves to be in the same room as you. You could be cooking in the kitchen, and he’s leaning against the counter waiting for you to let him taste test whatever it is you’re making as you guys chat away - though tbh he’d be the one cooking dinner. Or breakfast ;3

❀ Hugs are mandatory for him. Even if it’s first thing in the morning and you’re standing on your porch with a hot cup of coffee/tea in your hands, he’s coming up behind you and carefully wrapping his big arms around your waist, inhaling the lingering scent of your shampoo and committing it to memory (he really loves when you’re not fully awake, just a silent bliss as you both take in the sunrise)

❀ He can be a distraction. Not to the extent as a certain someone, but a distraction nonetheless. It’s cleaning day, you’re dusting the ceiling fan with music playing from the tv when he’s suddenly taking you by the hands and twirling you around the living room and singing along to whatever song started playing from the shuffle. He’ll plant playful kisses all over your face as he pulls you close to him. He walks away like he didn’t just do that (“Dammit, Sug’ I’m trying to clean!” but he just smirks at you and continues cleaning in the kitchen)

❀ He LOVES cuddling with you. He usually makes you initiate since he likes to tease you. (“Aw, ya wanna cuddle, baby? Why didn’t you just say so?”)

❀ If you’re sick, not feeling great, on your period, or whatever, prepare to be coddled. He loves you so much and he wants you to feel better! Feverish? He has a cool, damp towel for your forehead and will bring you whatever medications you need (with a glass of water!) Not doing great today? Don’t worry, y/n, he’ll make sure to get your fave snack, and your fave comfort movie queued up and ready to go. Period stuff? He’ll rub your tummy, your boobies, or your forehead if you need! (Chocolates and your go-to product will be waiting for you, too)

❀ Man loves sketching. Idk I just love the hc of him being some kind of artist. HOWEVER, don’t try to romanticize this shit bc he’s definitely a fan of horror media. He’ll draw a picture of you if you’d like, but you might not like the result. If you want something cute or nice, you may have to request it specifically. Occasionally he might draw something with you as his muse that’s actually really lovely, but usually it’s when he’s feeling a little down and looking for inspiration (“You just looked so pretty today, baby~”)

❀ I hc him to be a gift giver and an acts of service type of guy. He’ll gift you little treats or small trinkets that remind him of you, especially if you two get into an argument and he feels bad about it. He’ll rub your back, your feet, wherever you need his hands, you got it

❀ Sug’ takes really good care of his hair. His hair care routine is I M P E C C A B L E. Hair masks (the fancy ones or even diy) are applied weekly and oils (usually argan or tea tree) are used nightly. He also uses a heat protectant on the warmer days of the year. He swears by his silk scrunchie that you keep forgetting to return (he ended up buying a new one), and adores his silk pillow case. He’s very insistent on you doing his routine with him, or even for him when he’s feeling lazy. He just loves when your fingers massage his scalp and when you gingerly comb through his pretty locks. He feels so relaxed when you spend this time with him.

❀ On the weekends or on days neither of you are working, you both like to laze around in bed for the morning. He loves being lazy with you but he also needs his exercise so he may go for a run or do a quick body weight work out while you’re laying in bed. If you’re not up by the time he’s finished, he’ll come wake you up with a plate of your favourite breakfast and a hot cup of coffee/tea, and leave soft little kisses all over your face until you wake up

❀ Man is so sexy and he knows it. Will wash your car for you and smirk every time he catches your eyes trailing his shirtless torso

❀ Enjoys singing in the shower or humming while he’s doing chores. #FACT and he has a lovely singing voice

❀ Loves to read while sitting on the balcony. If it’s too cold outside then he’ll sit near a window. But his favourite spot to read is laying on the couch with his head on your lap

❀ If you’re tired, he’ll lay next to you and softly trace your facial features until you fall asleep. Loves staring at your face

NSFW

❀ Back to his hands, he’ll rub other places for you too. If you’ve had a stressful day, he’s carrying you to whatever comfortable surface is closest (the couch, the bed, that comfortable rug in your room?) and set you down on his lap, your back pressed against his chest. He’ll nibble your earlobes while whispering praises lowly, one hand groping your breasts, the other traveling further south

❀ While it’s not his go-to, lazy sex is his favourite. He doesn’t care how you’re positioned as long as you’re both laying down, but missionary seems to be what happens the most. The intimacy and closeness really gets him. He moves slow, hitting those sweet spots nice and deep, holding you close. He likes to tell you how much he loves you right before he cums

❀ Pleasure-dom for sure. He gets off on going down on you, humping the bed while his tongue explores your folds. He groans so lowly that you almost come undone right then

❀ He loooooves going down on you, but don’t expect to finish any time soon. He can be really mean, denying your orgasm a few times, praises falling from his lips too (“Look at you, so pretty for me. You really wanna cum don’t you? Be a good girl and ask for what you need, baby~”)

❀ Absolutely loves your pussy. Will absent-mindedly rub your clit while you two are watching a movie. Or while you’re reading a book. He’ll even stand behind you while you’re washing your face. Doesn’t matter where you are, he’ll find a way

❀ Shower sex. I mean… Have you seen him??? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t

❀ He likes wrapping his big hand around your throat. You? Trust him?? Gets off on that fact alone. Plus his hand looks SO BIG wrapped around your pretty neck

❀ Loves to shove his fingers in your mouth. Your mouth is so warm and wet and inviting. The way your plush lips wrap around his thick digits and your tongue swirls around the pads of his fingers while his eyes hold your gaze. You get to watch how blown out his pupils get as the tent in his pants grows bigger

❀ When he’s about to cum, he bites down on your neck or your shoulder with a deep groan rumbling from his chest

❀ Loves marking you. Bite marks, hickeys, bruises in the shape of his fingers on your hips

❀ Cumming inside of you is his favourite place to release. He just loves filling up his sweet baby, and seeing it leaking out around his cock gets him hard again

❀ Pull his hair

❀ Pull it

❀And lightly scratch his scalp. While he loves this for self-care days, it makes him groan like a desperate bitch if you do it while making out

❀ Ooh and if you scratch his scalp and pull his hair while he’s inside of you? Oooooohhhhhh boy, you’ve never heard a prettier moan come out of his mouth before

❀ Suguru is the king of aftercare

❀ He’ll lay on top of you for a few moments while you catch your breaths before getting a wet rag from the bathroom to clean you up. If it was an exceptionally messy session then he’ll carry you to the shower and give you a gentle wash. He’ll wash your hair if it needs to be washed, and he’ll gently rub soap over your skin. If it was a tiring session then he’ll lay behind you in the bathtub to clean you up

❀ Once you’re both cleaned up and in pjs, he’ll get you some water. If you fall asleep before he gets back, he’ll try to gently wake you up and make you hydrate, but if you don’t wake up then he’ll set the glass of water on the nightstand for you

❀ He cuddles you pretty tight. Even if it wasn’t especially rough this time. He’ll leave some kisses on your skin along with sweet praises and an “I love you” or two. He just wants you to know that he loves and cares about you

Tags: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @nanamis-wifey-reye @enchantedforest-network

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legally-allowed-to-slime · 16 days ago

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thoughts on the final girls alliance as of ep 2?

(I saw you asking for open ended questions and ngl I thought about sending you one that’s just straight up “give me your Scott thoughts” but then. That might be Too Much)

you’re right about the scott part but it’s funny how much i talk about him considering i don’t even watch his pov (just me, i can’t stand the editing and him repeating the same thing to different people. chronic yapper unfortunately)

honestly i feel like although their relationships are obviously strained, the alliance is going to stick mostly together. idk if this is a hot take but people always say pearl is chasing the conflict, but imo both pearl and scott are very conflict-avoidant.

i don’t count double life because that was cc!pearl deliberately putting on a persona that was very different from how c!pearl would naturally act (though, of course, still within reason)

now obviously for scott because he explicitly tells his audience and tells other players that he’s not here to make enemies, even a surface-level viewer can tell that he doesn’t usually instigate. but because pearl doesn’t do any of that meta commentary in the life series and just goes along regularly her interactions go more unnoticed and it’s far easier to just believe it when scott says “pearl’s trying to make enemies”. i have no idea why he’s still seen as a reliable source but whatever he says automatically becomes entrenched in fanon. as you might expect this is aneurysm-inducing for a pearl main

now i’m being subjective when i say pearl doesn’t actively seek enemies, at least not like joel or scar. my most persuasive argument is that people often bring up that scott places high because of the way he plays the social game. the thing is, pearl places higher. and she’s not distinctly better at pvp than scott.

“the social game” isn’t just making allies with everyone. it’s knowing your limits. scott indiscriminately makes friends with everyone, but pearl doesn’t bother with that. take SL. pearl didn’t try to have friendships with everyone, but she stuck with mounders, and she stuck with gem, resulting in both alliances having a shared advantage. the end justifies the means; if pearl makes a few enemies along the way, but she still places high, doesn’t it show that she’s clearly careful about her chances of survival? it’s the same with scar: he may act oblivious, but if he wins the season, you can’t really say anything.

anyway, i don’t think pearl does try to make enemies. she’s just a mirror, in that if you wrong her she’ll wrong you a thousand times over. but if you’re nice/neutral to her she’s not going to try and anger you for no reason, which is a strange characterisation for her

as an aside: ever since DL pearl has been treated like a ticking bomb in general so her actions undergo a lot more scrutiny (in-game) than scott’s. so unless she treads really really carefully there’s always bound to be someone calling her insane, and pearl is not the type to tread carefully.

back to the topic at hand. like i said, since pearl and scott prefer to avoid conflict, neither of them would be the type to pull something as dramatic as a betrayal. yes, they would snark each other constantly, but they’re both trying to upload the status quo (one more successfully than the other), and they’re both so desperate to be seen as loyal (again, one more successfully than the other). that’s their problem. they’re both the “good guys” in their heads (the validity of this is up to interpretation), so they probably wouldn’t pull a “bad” stunt like deserting or betraying.

as for cleo and impulse, they don’t really have direct beef with anyone else in the alliance. it’s mostly pearl and scott. if you squint maybe pearl/cleo? but they’re actually pretty civil if you take scott out of the equation. so yeah

#ask #this is queued btw

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crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

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jhgfcdvgbhnjk but here's a lil thought to chuckle over, but imagine accidentally introducing li to the whole 'daddy kink' shebang when you accidentally call him that. cue him looking increasingly confused because??? did he??? misread the relationship??? ( he is confusion and panicking and questioning is existence, your honor ).

now you have to spend the next few minutes telling him that no, no this was a strictly sexytimes thing, li stop developing a crisis pls.

NO BUT LIKE THIS IS SO FUNNY SCGVASHVCJHANJK-

So like fun fact I don’t really like daddy kink, I don’t. It makes me kinda uncomfy idk why?? But when the fandom started calling Zhongli “geo daddy” from the start I jumped right in since it was funny, like it’s just a joke, right? fast forward 2 years and I can unironically call zl that what is life this man can get me into any kink is2g it has happened multiple times already //head in hands but I still very much treat it as a joke/tease?? It still gives me asdcvghbjk vibes personally?? ( I much MUCH prefer sir/lord/master ehe//SHOT) Zhongli is the exception anyway

Zhongli has you pressed on the couch, lips claiming yours passionately as you groan and try to pull him impossibly closer. Your hands finding purchase on his dark locks, your legs parting to make way for him, before rubbing one of them sensually against his side and around his hip.

His breath hitches as the heavy kiss stops for a moment. It's certainly starting to feel hot and you want all those layers off.

Your hands fumble with the intricate clasps of Zhongli's coat while his hot breath tickles at your neck. He nibbles and sucks there, effectively making harder your goal of getting his coat off, you huff frustrated.

Zhongli chuckles and pulls back a moment to discard the article of clothing himself, draping it over the back of the couch, before leaning back to pepper you with kisses and nibbles. His pelvis rubs against yours with a slow drag and you let out a breathy moan at the feel of his sizeable bulge.

"Ah! P-Please... daddy..."

The word slips out without even noticing, but what you do notice is how Zhongli stills on top of you, petrified for a few seconds.

Oh.

Oh no...

Your eyes widen a little and you blush profusely as you stare at his equally shocked expression. You really haven't talked about this, or even mentioned it before, maybe he finds it odd or uncomfortable?

He pulls back again and you barely contain a frustrated whine. Your legs still parted around his lap, splayed enticingly on the couch when in reality you wish you could just curl up into a ball, embarrassed.

"I'm- I'm sorry it just came out, I-"

"Do you... see me as a father figure, y/n?"

You almost choke.

"W-What?!"

"I'm" He coughs into his fist, a pink dust over his cheeks. "I know I'm... far older than you but..."

Oh this is not happening.

You just lie there, mouth agape, incredulous while looking at him stumble over his words.

"Have I... been misreading our relationship and your affection for me?"

He looks straight up distraught and you're not sure if you want to cry or laugh.

"Stop- No. Li." You scramble to sit up. "Listen, it's... i-it's a kink thing..." You explain, feelings your cheeks heat up.

"... an... incestuous fetish?"

You want to die.

"Zhongli!" You squeak mortified. "NO! Nothing like that, sweet Celestia!" You drag a hand down your face. Great, now both of you are looking really uncomfortable, the mood has been killed, and you actually have to explain a daddy kink to this 6000 years old God.

“I’m just not sure-”

You sputter and frantically move your hands in front of him. "Alright just- stop, stop- stop talking. Before my face gets any redder and this gets any weirder. I-I'm sorry I blurted out that one on you, alright? Now..." You inhale, oh boy here it goes. "It's... kind of a dominance thing. I like t-that you're... older, and stronger." You try to word out carefully. "So you take care of me, of my needs, and you protect me." You mumble. "S-so you're my daddy, I'm your baby. It's exciting."

He... doesn't look very convinced.

You huff.

"Alright, you know how I like it when you call me little one? When you use pet names and tell me I'm good? It's sort of like that... it's dirty talk." You bite your lip, shuffling on the couch a little restless.

Zhongli looks pensive now, a hand to his chin and his brows frowning cutely as he usually does when considering things.

Is he still overthinking things? You sigh and your shoulders and head sag in defeat.

"You know what? Please, just forget about it don't start having an existential cris-"

His hand then tips your chin up and he leans in to whisper at your ear, voice deep and velvet smooth.

"So, you want daddy to take care of you, baby?"

A shiver goes down your spine.

He pulls back and stares at you with a mix of amusement and wonder. Seemingly fascinated and proud of having gotten such a strong reaction as your entire face flushes red and you stare at him speechless.

He chuckles good-naturedly. “Like that?”

Now that's just not fair...

"Y-You can't just...!"

"Oh? Was that not-"

"Do it again."

#PLS I'M CRYING WHAT IS THIS #WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY I DIED #crys answers #gn reader #do you know how hard I contained myself from using 'good girl'/'babygirl'? bc I wanted to keep it neutral #ANYWAY I AM 1000% NOT JUDGING OR MAKING FUN ROCK YOUR KINKS EVERYONE #I just love the idea of clueless zl like this sdfcvghbhjkl #crys writes #aine friend

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mintmatcha · 2 years ago

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Hi Mint! If your event is still open I'd like to submit

Aizawa in "The Stars Die Out, In the Blaze of the Sun"

If not. Hope your doing ok. Hope this month treats you gently 🖤

Hello SURPRISE i'm doing fake fics again!

i'm sorry this is so, so, so late! I’ve been touching it on and off. idk why i decided this needed to be the title to an intense angst work, but! I did. oh well-- it's my brand

The Stars Die Out, In the Blaze of the Sun: 50k words, heavy angst, hurt comfort, happy ending.

CW: discussions of suicide, self harm, depression, blood.

Synopsis:

Ten years after the worst day of your life, you run into the man who saved you when you needed it most.

Ten years ago.

The weather has settled into your joints, aching and creaking as you open and close your fist to return the circulation to your fingertips. Up here, the air is thin and the dawn has just barely broken, only a touch of grey noticeable on the city skyline. From far, far below, you can see the early morning traffic on the bridge has been halted by police cars and their oscillating lights, blocking the space right below you. Some people are honking, annoyed by the delay.

When the wind blows, there's enough force to hunch you forward, threatening to send you toppling forward into the river below, so you cling on to the rusted metal so hard your fingernails crack. It’s so cold that the tears on your cheeks burn as they fall, clinging on to your cheeks until they are ready to fall.

You don't want to fall until you're ready either.

It was supposed to be so easy. It’s just one step forward, just a foot forward and then gravity takes care of everything else, but now you’re here, sitting above your final moments.

This moment was supposed to come with some amount of profoundness, wasn't it? Some sort of change of heart or big revelation that life is good or, or... or something else that would make the world flip on its axis.

But the world stays right-side up.

The ache doesn't go away.

It alarms you how you don't even have to steel yourself, extending one leg as if to measure the distance. It's far enough the inky black river below looks like asphalt,

“Don’t.” A voice catches your attention.

A few feet to the left sits someone else- a hero. He’s relatively young, with thick black hair, a full spattering of stubble across his jaw, and tired, tired eyes. He’s perched delicately, coiled up like a cat- relaxed, yet primed to spring into action. You're not sure how you missed him climbing all the way up here. Probably the same way everyone else missed you climbing the bridge's repair structure earlier.

You quickly wipe away tears and snot from your cheeks, coughing and sputtering as you try to collect yourself. There’s so much to say, but the only think you can manage is: “I’m sorry.”

The man doesn’t respond, watching you carefully. He even blinks with a feline nature, overly slow and careful, as if he's afraid to miss something.

He is, you think, He's afraid to blink and you'll be halfway to nowhere.

“What are you sorry for?”

“The traffic, mostly.” You choke out a laugh at yourself, but it dissolves into a sob in your throat. Blood, overly warm, has begun welling up from the broken beds of your fingernails, but the pain hasn’t hit yet; it’s overshadowed by how hollow your chest has become, how the blankness has begun to rot within you and break. “Those people are so mad I haven’t died yet, huh?”

“Don’t worry about that,” the man reassures, “They can wait while we get you down.”

The wind rips through you again. That doesn’t make you feel better. You can see the police beginning to pace, hands on their hips in aggravation.

You can't even die right.

"Don't look down there," the man says, "What’s your name?”

You tell him. He nods wistfully, like it means something, even though it doesn’t. It’s something he’ll forget tomorrow, when the sun comes up again and life continues without you.

"My name's Shouta." The stranger repeats your name back like he's testing it. “Why don’t you come down with me?”

You shake your head.

"Everyone wants you to come down safely."

"No, they don't." you wipe your nose on your sleeve, coughing on the snot that has built in your throat. You didn't realize how you body was racked with sobs into now; you had blamed the quivering on the freezing temperatures, but it's from how every muscle in your body is gripped as tight as it'll go, aching and begging for release. "They just want this over."

With the toe of one sneaker, you push down on the back of your other shoe, inching in off until it hangs from your toe. Then, with equal amount of caution, you flex your foot, letting dangle and dangle

then drop,

drop,

drop

until you can't make out where the breeze has pushed it, just a speck against it all. The rising dawn reveals tiny crested waves in the river, foaming blips of sickly yellow.

"Hey." He says it softly the first time, but as you slip off your other shoe he grows more firm. "Hey now."

The man has slipped closer, now just barely an arm's distance from you. "Stop that. You're going to need those."

When he extends an arm, you flinch back hard enough that your hands slips against the metal and you have to scramble to stay put.

He reels back, blinking much too quickly to be natural, then forces himself to relax. You can see how he thinks, chewing on his lip as he tries to come up with the correct thing to say.

You wonder if proheroes get training in this. You doubt it.

"You're so young," he breathes, breath curling into strange shapes that immediately get blown away, "How old are you?"

It takes a moment to remember. Young: you haven't felt young since high school, before the weight of the world hit your shoulders.

"Twenty-three." The number sounds small now.

"Me too," The man says, "If I reach for you, are you going to jump?"

"I-" You want to. You will. "I don't know."

He settles back slightly, hands up in earnest surrender. "I'll stay here then."

Honks carry over the ambient wind, flecks of nothing in the distance. Both of you sit, watching the horizon with unfocused eyes, everything familiar to you blurred and dim through tears.

He looks older than you. His skin has already begun to crease between his eyebrows into a permanent furrow, matching the sullen frown lines on the corners of his lips. Life must be hard for him too, you think.

"Shouta," you ask after a very long while, voice raw and cracked, "Do you ever want to die?"

His voice barely carries over to you, despite him being so close. You suspect he's going to grab on to you soon and wrestle you to the ground. He's going to hurt you the second your guard is down, just like every other man you've let get too close-

Instead, he sits there, quiet.

"I do."

You look down and the world spins. "Why haven't you?"

"I don't know." He exhales heavily, "I really don't."

#suicide tw #self harm tw #blood tw #angst tw #content.cold

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jenyifer · 1 year ago

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Only friends 8/10 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

About a group of friends and the destruction of that friend group in a web of lies betrayals and revenge. The music and sets are beautiful amazing I literally listened to every song they carefully choose for each scene it was genius. Every character was morally grey and complex. Really showed queer stories. I’m a lesbian and there was many many times I could see my own life experiences in the characters. You will find a character to relate to and many of them you will fall in love with for whatever reason. The acting was fantastic ForceBook FirstKhaotung NeoMark deserve all the recognition and awards for their performances. I was surprised at the realism and twists the story took which is very rare for me I have to watch sci-fi horror films at home because I’ll guess the ending and get bored but who would have guessed a Thai Bl would stump me multiple times. I won’t change BostonNick’s story line to me their scenes even with being cut short with what feels like major parts missing is a 10/10. A real journey of the heart and I was hurt and also in love with the conclusion. The series is worth watching again and again for them.

Now…. You’ll notice it isn’t a 10/10… I’m going to get honest with you after the break. So If you don’t want my critique then leave.

I’m going to talk about my grips and how I’d fix them now and why I can’t I’m good conscious forgive these things.

1. Loss of the each episode for a character like the interviews or social media. I felt like these would have given us another angle on those boys. I understand they were trying to edit for the fans but… it is extremely sad. The first 4 episodes are perfection in my opinion.

2. Cheum is terrible lesbian representation. She’s a terrible character. I hate to think this is what queer men think lesbians are. She disappointed me over and over. I’d rather her not be in the story at all.

3. The glossing over of Boston’s torture throughout the series. Mew Cheum and Ray should have apologized to him. I wish Mew and Ray had been better friends in general I felt like I wanted to see the trio trying to incorporate eachother in their lives before the final episode. I wanted to believe at some point they cared for eachother. I wanted them to miss Boston when he was gone and to be guilty for what they fucking did.

4. Top and Mew terrible pairing. Mew is my least favorite character of all time. I have alot to relate to mew on. But he never became a character I could root for. Vindictive and Spiteful. I don’t know if he loved top or not. I don’t foresee that relationship lasting. I liked Top but you could see the bland oatmeal coating they gave him half way through I want the messy angry boy. I did want him to gain happiness but I doubt mew could ever give it to him. I will forever skip their boring scenes I’m glad I no longer have a reason to watch them. To fix this I would have made Mew nosey supportive into Ray and Boston’s lives just him being able to have long term friends would have made his character seem like he was capable of affection. To fix the TopMew scenes? Idk they always felt uneven Top tried so hard Mew was never punished for what he did. Mew became a worse person so maybe reverse that.

5. SandRay I love them I truely relate to Ray so deeply. However the way Ray treated Sand over and over wasn’t right. I hated it. His apologies to sand rang hollow he didn’t back them up. Sand adores Ray and I wish Ray adored Sand just as much but that’s not true. I have hope Ray would mature though.

Over all to fix things I would have given it more episodes there was clearly scenes missing structure that should have been there. I think the problem was the ships had to be so segmented from eachother. Top and Mew could have benefited from more of them interacting with Ray and Cheum. The actual friendship bonds explored would have helped. I also wish they hadn’t swept Bostons revenge P and expose account under the board. Ray having real change in attitude towards sand would have been rewarding as well. I hope there is a season 2 so badly. I have to see BostonNick get their healthy happy ending too.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #thai bl #bl review #Jenny’s watching #bl recommendation #only friends episode 12 #ofts ep12 #ofts meta

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singsweetmelodies · 1 year ago

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Oh my godddd!! Kiss fic anon here.. I wasn’t trying to be mean but I’m sorry if you felt like i was😭 😭I’m always checking my bookmarked fics n I saw both of your fics there and idk it made me sent that ask.. I didn’t even reread the mesg. Tbh I’m very bad at putting whatever is on my mind into words😅

Anyways, you take all the time you need dear🤗. For me also these last few weeks were really hectic. I was trying to relax a little bit with ao3 you know 🫢 I’m really sorry if I was a bit harsh, it wasn’t intentional.. still, made me smile when I saw your reply 😁

hey anon! thank you so much for clarifying ❤️ you're all good! i did not read your initial ask in that way - although i do think it's crucial to tread very carefully with this kind of ask.

to be clear, this is not an attack on you personally, anon. not at all. but it is true that many writers (myself included) have unfortunately had bad experiences with this sort of thing, so i do want to just take a moment to explain why many of us might react badly to an ask along the lines of the first one you sent.

the thing is: writers on AO3 do this all for free, and we do it while also balancing our real lives. we do it because we love it and we love our readers, yes, but that doesn't mean it's always easy. writer's block and any number of real-life problems and reasons can come up at any time.

the problem comes in when we get an ask or a comment that doesn't seem to understand that. now, i do understand that this is often not the intention behind that comment, but it is all too easy for tumblr asks/comments asking for fic updates to seem like they're pressuring the writer.

it's like... i have written over two hundred and fifty THOUSAND words for this fandom, and i have done it completely for free, and in my own free time. now some person i don't know at all comes to me and basically DEMANDS that i do even more, on their schedule and not mine.

from a writer's perspective, it's easy to feel frustrated and/or demoralised by "when are you posting the next chapter" type comments. even if it is tempered by "i love your writing," as a writer it's easy to feel like you're not being appreciated for what you've already done. and, you know. we're humans too, not perfect writing machines who always stay exactly on schedule with everything. it's just nice to be treated like humans, y'know?

again, i understand that in many cases, none of the above is the intention of the ask/comment at all - which is why i think that phrasing is SO vitally important. instead of "when is the next chapter coming out? i miss this fic" it just feels kinder, to me at least, to say it more like "i love this fic SO MUCH... and i am so excited to see what happens next!! i will be here cheering you on for the next chapter (and rereading all the others in the meantime!!) thank you so much for sharing ❤️"

(istg just lost my entire ability to write a coherent comment when trying to do an example here 😭😭 but i hope you see what i'm trying to get at?)

speaking as a writer, one of THE best feelings in the world is to get a comment from someone who loved your story as much as you loved writing it. someone who's as excited for more as you are!! in my opinion, a good way to keep up this positive energy all around is simply to not ask the writer for a timeline. this is often impossible for us to provide - because like i said, we are HUMANS. life happens. writers can't predict it any more than you can.

just be excited with us. cheer for us and cheer WITH us. rather than demanding exact dates and putting pressure on a writer to try and create content faster when they might not be able to - just be there for the process, support us, and make us smile as much as our fics made YOU smile!!

... ah, wow, this has gotten to be quite a long reply 🙈🙈 i got on my soapbox a little bit, but this is something i feel quite passionately about, so i do hope it all makes sense! i also hope that you don't think i'm mad at you, dear anon who sent this - i'm not, not at all. i just wanted to take the opportunity to make things as clear as possible for everyone who might need to read this ❤️ thank you ever so and cheers to you if you've made it this far!! i appreciate you taking the time out of your day/night to give this a read 💙

#asks & answers #anon #*coughs* YEAH so this got a bit long but... i do think it needs to be said #nothing against you personally; anon; and i genuinely appreciate the clarification ask so much!!#i just thought i'd offer a clarification of my own just so that everyone is on the same page #❤️#writing tag #important 💜

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cubedmango · 2 years ago

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Yeah I saw that too which is definitely an explanation that makes sense but also makes me so sad because a lot of the blame fell onto machida and akaso for that and at least from what i’ve seen and know about them it looks a lot more likely to be their/one of their agencies… I always want to pull my hair out too because seriously men getting married yeah chief that’s about as gay as it gets but a little peck on the lips is where the line gets drawn):£: and then I wonder how it works too cause even with that scene in the drama with kurosawa’s imagination in ep 9 when they were literally in bed like man that was a big fuckin step up in terms of any physicality between them which made me wonder like okay that was fine but again actually having a visible kiss wasn’t? I just don’t understand and when the director was asked about the whole no on-screen kiss thing he said it was to put more emphasis on their ‘emotional bond’ like what😭 idk nothing really adds up but some homophobic entity pulling the strings behind them unfortunately seems to have all arrows pointing at them it really is kinda :// tho cause I loooove the movie and the beach scene but also wish so much wasn’t taken away from it cause seriously imagining that part from the manga in live action form especially knowing how much of amazing actors they are is so crazy I would have killed a man for that💔

(putting second ask below for length!)

Ah naina there’s some unconfirmed tea which you can choose to post if you want to or not idm!! Some ppl have been digging into it and think that it’s tri-stone akaso’s company and it honestly makes sense from the promotion of the movie and how the release was treated on their side for example their official account was basically silent the whole time which is super weird because for his other roles they post about them regularly and retweet the promos but for a movie where their client like that’s your actor!! was literally the main character they were radio silent?? and in fact this was during the time hiru was airing and they posted about that almost every day but barely a word about cherry magic… and even weirder on his paid for fansite thing eawd at the end of every production they post a picture with akaso and his costars but there wasn’t one with him and machida… there’s so much more I’m gonna have to go back and look for it if you want but it’s just so ????? To me

the thing abt akasos agency is actually the exact thing i saw, i didnt have any way of checking it for myself so i couldnt confirm it but if its true that explains . basically everything ?? and its so dumb too bc if theyre so intent on being homophobic why did they even let him not only act in the drama but also come back for the movie ???? like were they expecting the levels of gay to go down or what 😐 and not doing promotion for ur own actors work just bc its a queer role is ??? extremely fucked up first of all but also theyre just losing out on money themselves so ??? who knows whats going on in their brains lol

either way to me it feels like neither the actors nor crew did this stuff on their own bc the way they handled the drama+movie doesnt match at all, they wrote and acted krdcs story v carefully and respectfully without that typical baiting and pandering, and also making fujisaki aroace when she wasnt in the manga and giving her so much depth too shows they did care abt the queer rep so i doubt theyd have any problems with the kissing and all themselves ? sensei even supervised the whole thing and donated movie proceeds to marriage for all so it rlly doesnt add up that any of the crew involved would be the one opposing stuff like this .. wouldnt be surprised if it was actually those agencies or even the network higher-ups doing all this, and the actors getting blamed for it is such bs too but alas its easier to pin it on them than admit theres a more systemic homophobia at play, and fans will usually fall for any random rumor and take is as truth so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#im not rlly that informed abt actor/agency/tv stuff esp in jp so i might be wrong idk #its just annoying to me the amount of control agencies seem to have esp when it comes their actors in queer roles #and to the point theyre forcing changes in the media itself by censoring things is....... god #why are agencies so fixated on marketing their clients as 'single and straight untouched by the gayness' theyre ACTORS thats their JOB???#sigh . now im remembering why i stay away from live action medias usually #my answer

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hypergamiss · 4 months ago

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The Brazilian guy just randomly brought it up as we were getting into his car for him to drop me off, he was like “how many relationships have you been in” and I did tell him honestly 1 relationship (he didn’t ask the particulars of how long, why it ended) then asked him how many he’s been in he said 3, also told without me asking the details how they all ended well, there’s no bad feelings for anyone in any of their relationships, how one of their moms is still really close to him, how he’s still in contact with one of his ex’s (idk why he would tell me that?) and how he treated them well and how he was going to marry the last one (that died a month ago from drugs)….other then that we talked about our families, he showed me a picture of his family, I showed him a picture of mine, our interests…anything else a red flag? Do you suggest I not see him again? I’m really bad with knowing what’s a red flag and what’s not because I don’t date like ever, don’t do casual relationships so feel I’m really out of touch

"how he’s still in contact with one of his ex’s (idk why he would tell me that?)"

Personally this right here would be a hard deal breaker for me.

"anything else a red flag? Do you suggest I not see him again? I’m really bad with knowing what’s a red flag and what’s not because I don’t date like ever, don’t do casual relationships so feel I’m really out of touch"

It would be a no for me since he's still in contact with his ex for sure, and like I mentioned before some of his questions are too fresh in my opinion... tread very carefully whatever you decide to do😅

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zephfair · 2 years ago

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Helloooo!!! I love your fics. Idk why but I would love to read a haunted house pynch version of you haha :D I mean, if you ever need some ideas and feel inclined to write that... I would be super happy!! But obviously it is just an idea, I dont mean to say you have to write anything I say :) I just love how you write pynch, your humour, and generally your fics. And I have been craving a haunted house fic :D Anyway, all the best!!

AAAh, thank you so much! You are way too kind to me!😭 I'm sorry it took me a while to write this, and it's pre-pynch, but I hope you like it! Please let me know if this hit your craving for a haunted house fic!💖💖💖

Rated T for language, I think the only other warning is talking about standard haunted house stuff.

This could take place in canon, soon before The Raven King and definitely before Ronan's birthday and the 😘

“I’m just saying,” Ronan said for at least the fourth time in an hour, “why do you want to go to a stupid haunted house when you live with a fucking ghost?”

“That’s a good question,” Noah suddenly appeared right at his shoulder, and Ronan jumped straight into the air and grabbed his chest.

“Holy Christ, you little shit!” he yelled in a very manly voice, certainly not a screech.

“Sorry,” Noah said, sounding not sorry at all. “Did I scare you?”

Ronan swore again. “I think you gave me a heart attack.”

“I don’t know, Lynch, you might not be fit to even go into this haunted house,” Adam said.

“If you’re uncomfortable, Ronan,” Gansey began but Ronan cut off that bullshit real quick.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he sneered. “And I’m not not fit,” he said with some confusion but then he found his stride. “I’m just saying that haunted houses suck, especially when you’ve seen some of the shit we’ve seen. Why should I have to pay for someone else to try and fail to scare me?”

“In other words, you’ve dreamed up unworldly, eldritch abominations that were out to kill you...and now you’re afraid to go into a haunted house created by Henrietta high kids,” Adam spelled it out.

Ronan bristled immediately, somehow looking just like Chainsaw when she fluffed herself out in defense. “I’m not afraid!”

“Does this have something to do with your religion?” Gansey worried at his lip and eyed Ronan carefully. “I know some religions forbid celebrating anything that reeks of a pagan ceremony. Although, the origins of Halloween are—”

“I don’t have anything against Halloween,” Ronan grit out. “In fact, let’s go trick or treating right the fuck now. I’m just saying that haunted houses … are stupid,” he finished weakly.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s go, Gansey,” Adam said, already turning away from the car.

“I just thought it would be a fun evening together. Parrish has the night off, and Jane told us about this project that her school does to raise funds for local children.”

“Oh, so that’s why you wanted to come. What, is she going to swoon into your arms in fright, the damsel in distress you can save?” Ronan said with as much sarcasm as he could slather on it.

Gansey froze him with a Look. “Jane is actually working tonight. I thought this would be a boys-night only activity.”

Ronan snorted and looked away. The haunted house was in an old faux-Victorian house on the outskirts of town. Ronan had heard about it before, that the high school theater kids manned the event with a lot of adult supervision to raise money for boys and girls clubs. It definitely wasn’t a high tech or expensive endeavor, but Ronan didn’t like the way his stomach clenched when he looked at the covered windows that were flashing from bright lights inside.

Adam sighed loudly. “Come on, if you’re coming, Lynch. I don’t want to spend my one night off just standing in a parking lot.”

Ronan told him what he could do to himself instead. Adam just glared, unimpressed by the vulgarity.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Gansey said, clearly uncomfortable by their attitudes.

“No! Go in! It’ll be fun,” Noah said and nudged Ronan in the ribs, making him shiver. “Do you want me to come with to protect you?”

Ronan shivered again. “I’m more likely to have a heart attack if you keep blowing your coldass ghost breath in my ear.”

“Come on, Lynch,” Adam said again but then he smirked. “I’ll even hold your hand, if it makes you feel better.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Ronan grumbled but slowly and very reluctantly got out of the car. Gansey smiled beatifically and led the way toward the entrance while Ronan followed even more slowly. He didn’t want to admit that holding Adam’s hand probably would make him feel better.

The line to get in moved more quickly than Ronan would’ve liked, and the screams and loud noises audible from inside were more disturbing that he would’ve liked too. They finally entered a sort of lean-to that had been built around the exterior entrance to the house’s basement.

There, a bubbly high school girl briefly spelled out the rules (no alcohol, no drugs, no guns, no knives, no violence) and warned them to stay together in the groups she made and not deviate from the marked path. They would start in the basement, working their way up through the horrors of the house until the grand finale on the third floor after which they got to take an inflatable slide to the ground again.

That was the only part Ronan looked forward to.

Then she said, “If you’re with a friend who you think might have a violent or extreme reaction to a jump scare, we ask that you please help restrain them. We value the safety of our performers. Maybe hold hands so your group doesn’t get separated and you all stay together.”

Gansey and Adam shared a Look then each grabbed one of Ronan’s arms—Gansey clutching his right bicep tightly, Adam latching onto Ronan’s left forearm. “Oh fuck you guys,” he hissed.

“We never know how our fight or flight reactions will react until they’re triggered,” Gansey hissed back.

But Ronan did know. He knew the reactions to stress were fight, flight, or freeze. And he’d seen Gansey face enough potential wasp and bee catastrophes to know that he was firmly in the freeze category. And Adam had never once fought back or fled from his father so he was another freezer.

While Ronan, well, he knew that he’d be the first to flee, if that was a choice. Sure, he might throw a punch to gain some time, but if he was alone and not having to protect his loved ones, he’d be away.

So he wasn’t amused that his friends felt the need to restrain him. But his bitterness eased a little when they moved to go down the basement steps, and Adam’s hand slid down his arm to take his hand. Gansey had done the same, casually holding onto his hand like he would a child waiting to cross the street. But Adam, he slid their hands together then entwined their fingers until his bony thumb caressed over the top of Ronan’s.

Ronan gulped and was thankful that the dark hid his burning cheeks and the loud sound effects covered his little whimper.

The first basement room wasn’t that bad as a recreation of a witch’s lair. It was dark with strategic red and purple lights on different scary looking implements. Ronan mumbled, “Satanic magic bullshit,” when a loud witch’s cackle rolled through the room and the witch popped up right in front of them.

Gansey yelled and stepped back right onto Ronan’s foot, which made him yell and swear and jerk back into Adam, which made him yell and squeeze Ronan’s hand so tightly he yelled again.

At least, that’s what they all agreed to afterward.

As the witch’s cackle continued, Gansey hurried them toward the door. “Well, that wasn’t frightening at all,” he shouted over his shoulder. Ronan didn’t answer, too busy brushing fake cobwebs off his head and out of his mouth. That was the problem with letting shorter Gansey go first—it left all the higher decorations smacking Ronan in the face and head.

Adam snickered against his back until Ronan purposely ducked so Adam got a faceful of sticky spiderweb and spit it out with a yuck.

The second room was a graveyard with fake tomb stones and several plastic skeletons that dropped from the ceiling. It was too loud to talk, with recorded screams and other so-called scary noises coming at irregular intervals.

Ronan was starting to feel a little like a stress ball, Gansey first pulling him along then stopping abruptly at a jump scare while squeezing his hand. From behind him, Adam alternately held back, straining Ronan’s arm then crowded tight against his back. Ronan wasn’t about to complain about that. He just tried to balance between the two and shut his eyes at times to keep the flashing lights from giving him a worse headache.

After the last zombie had popped up from a gravestone and menaced them, Gansey spotted the stairs and started pulling them along.

“Holy fuck, this fucking noise,” Ronan ground out, shaking his head.

He didn’t know how Adam even heard him over the growing din from the next room, but he must have. Adam pressed up against his side and breathed hotly in his ear, “How can you complain about this noise when I’ve heard the so-called music you listen to?”

“Oh fuck you,” Ronan said right as a man wearing a leather mask brandished a chainsaw at them. They all obligingly screamed and Ronan felt torn apart again as the other two jostled him in different directions.

Eventually they all got going the same way, headed down a very narrow corridor that apparently wound in a maze through the ground floor. There were scary mirrors, scary zombies, scary clowns, scary fake tarantulas and snakes, whatever was a common fear was represented somewhere.

Ronan was almost getting used to it by the second floor. The horribly loud noises were off-putting, and the flashing lights with alternating pitch-black darkness were jarring, but the jump-scares were actually tame in comparison to the stuff they’d seen.

Even Adam seemed like he was relaxing, and Ronan thought he heard Adam laugh with his forehead pressed against Ronan’s shoulder blade when Gansey got a fake snake around the neck and shrieked doing a little get-it-off-me dance.

Until they got to the stairway to the top floor. There was thick fog floating down, and blue UV lights that made white glow but left everything else in darkness. Gansey squeezed Ronan’s hand and glanced back over his shoulder. “Excelsior!” he cried and started up the stairs.

“Fuck this,” Ronan yelled back and Adam clenched his hand in agreement.

The noises had redoubled, this time combined with a pounding bass beat that was more similar to Ronan’s music than he’d admit but what also sounded like the house had a very arrhythmic, racing heartbeat. It was dark and thick with fog, only the UV light strobing occasionally.

Ronan had to admit it was unnerving. There were definitely people there, just out of reach, but the strobing light made their motion unnatural, unearthly, and only lit parts of their outfits so they flitted from place to place. Ronan couldn’t even push them away as they came closer, circling the group of three.

Then all the lights went out and something collided hard with Ronan’s right arm. He clutched Gansey’s hand even harder and yelled. Gansey had stopped so Ronan took a step closer and whatever hit him didn’t try again.

But the movement had taken him further from Adam and when something rammed into their hands, he felt Adam’s fingers slipping. Ronan was off balance and tried to turn back to move closer to where Adam should be, but something that felt like a human body fell heavily where they were linked, and Adam’s hand disappeared.

“Adam,” Ronan screamed as loudly as he could, wildly reaching, swinging his arm in every direction feeling for Adam.

“Lynch, come on,” Gansey pulled him in the opposite direction in the darkness, but Ronan was turned around in the blackness and kept reaching for where he thought Adam should be.

When he felt his hand brush soft material, he thanked God, almost sobbing, and fisted his hand in Adam’s shirt. Ronan pulled with all his strength, and Adam moved willingly toward him even as Gansey continued to pull him away.

But it was okay, he had a handful of Adam and he was never letting go again. The darkness pressed in on him, he gasped for breath, the fake fog choking him, and his hand sweated in the cotton of Adam’s shirt, his arm wrenched behind him painfully to keep clinging to Adam.

He didn’t understand why Adam let himself be pulled along, it couldn’t be comfortable, why didn’t Adam take his hand again.

Then he looked back right as the black light strobed. And he knew why Adam didn’t respond.

It wasn’t Adam he was clutching.

It was some kind of evil, possessed, Victorian doll but child-sized, in a torn frilly dress, its face a gaping maw of a black mouth and gaping black holes where the eyes should be.

Ronan screamed. He couldn’t even let go of the tight grasp he had on the doll’s sleeve—he just froze and screamed.

When the doll stepped closer right as the light went off, Ronan tore free from Gansey and ran.

Right into a wall that knocked him right onto his ass.

At least it made him stop screaming. He sat on the floor, shaking, rubbing the growing bump on his forehead until the light flashed on again.

And the doll was standing right above him.

He screamed again then saw another shirt glowing behind the doll. A familiar hand landed on the doll’s shoulder and pulled it back.

“I think you’ve scared him enough, Blue,” Adam said.

**********

Ronan sat on the curb down the street from the haunted house and gasped for air. His head hung between his knees which were currently somewhere up around his ears. He hadn’t passed out, exactly, but things had gone black around the edges and he didn’t really remember getting out of the building.

Apparently, Gansey had joined them and between the three of them, they got Ronan onto the slide that took them down to the parking lot. There a volunteer medic had examined Ronan’s forehead, offered him a bandaid, and told him to sit down for a while.

“Here, Lynch,” Adam said, and a sweating bottle of water was pushed into his face.

Ronan took it gratefully, sitting up enough to twist it open and take a long drink. It helped a little, or at least, helped calm his hyperventilating while he chugged and swallowed.

He wiped his mouth with his forearm and shivered. He still couldn’t look Adam in the eyes. “I’m sorry I ruined your one night out or whatever,” he muttered.

Adam sighed and sat down beside him, close enough that his shoulder and arm were solidly pressing against Ronan’s. It made Ronan feel grounded in a way he didn’t realize he was missing.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” Adam said, nudging him a little in the ribs. “It wasn’t my idea to come to this.”

“Yeah, but you were looking forward to it, and then I went and ruined it.”

“First, you didn’t ruin anything. And second, I was just looking forward to being with you. And Gansey,” he added a beat later.

“So you guys weren’t planning this all along?” Ronan had to ask, had to voice his growing fear that somehow they’d all conspired to laugh at him.

“Hell no,” Adam said and pulled away.

Ronan shut his eyes. Of course he had to go and piss off Adam. Way to go, Ronan.

“Lynch. Ronan, look at me.” But Adam had only withdrawn far enough so he could turn to face Ronan. He put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders and tried to turn him a little too.

Ronan finally opened his eyes to see Adam leaning very close but he hung his head again. “Do you really think we would do something to hurt you? You know Gansey loves you like a brother, and Blue loves you like a menace, and I … well, we wouldn’t ever do that to you.”

“I didn’t want to come.”

“We shouldn’t have made you, whatever your reason for not wanting to come. It was a pretty lame haunted house, anyway. And now I’ve got a splitting headache from the noises.”

“Oh shit,” Ronan’s head jerked up. “I didn’t even think about that. God, that must have been torture with your ear. Can I do anything for you?”

Adam looked at him with an expression Ronan couldn’t decipher. Finally he said, “Give me a drink?”

Ronan passed over the water bottle and watched Adam’s throat move as he drank the rest of it. He was trying not to think about swapping spit and backwash with Adam when it hit him.

“Did you actually buy me a bottle of water?” Ronan demanded. “Lemme pay you back.”

“It’s okay, Lynch,” Adam put the cap back on the empty bottle. “My treat.”

“No, that’s not right. I owe you—”

“Ronan. It’s fine. I can afford to get you a water.” Adam stretched out, leaning back on his elbows and looking way more casual than Ronan felt at the moment.

“Well, then I’ll pay you back.”

“Maybe you can buy me a burger. For lunch tomorrow?”

“That’d be awesome. Yeah. Sure.” The words tumbled out of Ronan, and Adam grinned up at him.

Ronan grinned back then hung his head again. “I just can’t believe this was such a clusterfuck. Dick is going to kill me if I ruined his night too.”

“You wanna talk about why you didn’t want to come in the first place?”

“The fuck would I want to talk about?” Ronan muttered and Adam didn’t answer. They sat in silence for a moment until he said, “I just don’t like shit like that.”

“Halloween shit? Haunted shit? Badly performed high school productions?”

Ronan smirked in gratitude at Adam’s casual snark. “Just...shit that only pretends to be scary. Like, one part of your mind is trying to fool the rest into thinking it’s reality just so it can pretend to be scared and get all that adrenaline and shit. It’s like a big con of yourself.”

“Like a lie?”

“Yeah, exactly. I get enough of that in dreams, only in my dreams, what my mind might manifest will actually kill me. If I thought up a creepy haunted doll, that thing is going to murder everyone I love. This,” he gestured back at the house, “This is just weird. I don’t get why people want to pay to put themselves in a fake situation that they know isn’t real just to feel real fear.”

Adam crinkled the water bottle until Ronan looked over at him. “I get it. I think. It’s about vulnerability and control. In your dreams, reality is terrifying and surreal and you might have to run for your life. Or come up with a way to stop the creepy haunted doll. But it’s you doing it. You have the choice to run or fight for your life, so you’re ultimately in control of what happens.”

“Yes,” Ronan said, grateful that somehow he got it. “I’m not chained down and forced to see and do things I don’t want to do. I’m in charge.”

Adam nodded slowly and nudged him. “So no more haunted houses. How do you feel about roller coasters?”

“My driving is the best answer to anyone who wants to ride an artificial scary ride,” Ronan boasted, mostly to make Adam laugh, which he did. Then Adam nudged into his side and they stayed there in companionable silence until Gansey and Blue stood over them.

“Here, Ronan. They say sugar is good for shock, so we got you some hot chocolate,” Gansey held the cup down to him.

Ronan glanced over at Adam who shrugged. “Fine,” he grumbled and accepted the cup.

“I had no idea it would happen like that, Ronan,” Blue said.

Ronan shrugged and swirled the lukewarm hot chocolate.

“I must say, I was mightily surprised to see you there, Jane. After you said you couldn’t make it,” Gansey said cheerily.

“I talked to one of the girls I know in the theater club, and she helped me out with a costume. They sneaked me in to the top floor where I just kind of hung out until they signaled you were coming up.”

Ronan looked up at Blue who looked much less diabolical under the ordinary street light. Her dress and wig were obviously threadbare and worn, and the makeup that had transformed her face into a waking nightmare looked just dark and odd without the UV light.

She shrugged sheepishly under Ronan’s glare. “I didn’t plan it to happen like that. We were going to separate you and Gansey so I’d be holding his hand when he looked back and freaked out. But when I Red Rovered you two, I couldn’t separate you.”

“Red Rovered?” Gansey interrupted.

“You know, that kids’ game? When you hold hands in a line and another kid runs at your arms to try and break you apart?”

Gansey shook his head, never having partaken in the games of ordinary schoolchildren.

“Anyway,” Blue continued, “you and Gansey were, like, glued together so I tried you and Adam instead, and that worked. Two of the other girls had to grab Adam to hold him back while I got in his place.”

They all looked over at Adam. “All I felt was someone run into me and Ronan’s hands until I couldn’t hold on anymore. When I tried to grab him again, people were holding my arms. I thought it was part of the performance until the light came on and I recognized you. And what you were doing to Ronan.”

“I didn’t mean to do anything to Ronan!” Blue insisted. “I’m sorry it freaked you out so bad; I didn’t know that would happen. I just wanted to scare Gansey.”

“It’s okay, Sargent,” Ronan said, proud that his voice was now steady. “It totally freaked me out. Your makeup is badass. You looked like a crazyass doll possessed by the devil.”

Blue smiled proudly and held out her fist. Ronan bumped it with his own. He felt Adam take a deep breath beside him and let it out in relief. Ronan bumped his shoulder into Adam’s.

“Well, I don’t know how I feel about you going to all that trouble just to frighten me,” Gansey said with a little pout.

“Drink your hot chocolate, Gansey,” Adam said and Gansey obeyed.

“So what now? Are you guys ready to grab something to eat?” he said after a long sip. “I feel like burgers.”

“Nah,” Ronan said. “I don’t want a burger tonight. Maybe tomorrow,” he glanced at Adam out of the corner of his eye, “but not now.”

“Who said you get to pick?” Blue asked.

Ronan pointed to his forehead. “I’m the one who got injured. I should get to pick.”

“That sub place out in the strip mall is doing a buy one-get one special,” Adam said.

“Perfect,” Ronan said and Blue nodded. She held out her hand which confused Ronan at first, but then he realized what she was offering. He took her hand for show but got himself to his feet then reached down and ruffled her hair. “Wear that get-up into the sub shop and they might run out screaming so we could get free food.”

She laughed, and Ronan knew they’d be okay. He turned to see Adam smiling up at the two of them so he stuck out his hand. Adam laughed and took it, letting Ronan bear some of his weight. Ronan made a big deal out of pulling him harder and closer than necessary.

“Do I get to hold your hand again too, Ronan?” Gansey’s voice broke Ronan out of his reverie.

Ronan let go of Adam and turned to Gansey. “Any time you want, Dick, any time. Even though you did leave me to the mercies of the evil doll. And you let me run into a wall.”

“Well, next time, I won’t let go,” Gansey promised with a sincerity that made Ronan a little embarrassed.

“Wow, Dick, that’s really romantic,” he sneered, to make all of them roll their eyes and say his name in various tones of frustration.

Then he slung his arm over Gansey’s shoulder and started off toward the Pig, calling behind him, “C’mon you two. Parrish, bring the doll so Gansey can play with her later.”

Then Gansey sputtered and Blue started yelling again, and Ronan felt like they were back to normal. As long as he never, ever had to go into another haunted house again.

#the raven cycle #ronan lynch #adam parrish #gansey #my fic #haunted house #ask

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apcthetics · 2 years ago

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overwhlcmed:

status : open location : idk an alley or something by the library she works at, a street, something

☁️ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ─────────── imani was usually restless but especially on her days off. typically a fan of the silence, she didn’t know how to move through it when the world around her was wide awake. it was only when they were sleeping did she feel safe. it was the kind of alone that wasn’t so lonely. yet, when the world moved around her and she stayed stagnant, the loneliness was palpable. growing up, her bedroom was sometimes shared with about three other kids lost to the system and the houses were far from quiet throughout the day. even the alone time she did find wandering the streets until the sun went down was accompanied by the sound of traffic, heels on concrete, and the dings of bicycle bells as they sped past her. living on her own brought the kind of solace she had no idea what to do with. so just as she always had, she took to the streets; searching for the comfort that could be found in a busy neighborhood. no matter how her surroundings changed, the noise stayed the same.

with her backpack strapped comfortably to her back she found herself back at the library she spent most of her time in anyway. however, she didn’t go inside this time; she made a detour through the alley at the side of it to greet the furry friends who had come to anticipate her arrival. “ i’m late, i’m late i know. sorry. you wouldn’t believe the traffic. ” she spoke in response to their whines while they rubbed against her backpack as it reached the floor. the body walking beside her didn’t go unnoticed and she reached a hand out to stop them before they could get any further. “ hold on there speedy, quick question since you clearly like them fast…─── ” there was a pause for her to laugh a little at her own joke and she pulled out two canned food options that she couldn’t decide on just yet. “ do you think these guys deserve chicken or salmon ? maybe dry food ? a mix ? i have a bag in my bag, i’m just…─── so indecisive y’know ? ”

*˖ ⊹ of course it was the cats. akira hadn’t known what he expected to see when he caught sight of a familiar head of brunette curls taking the corner around the back of the library instead of into it, but the cats made sense. imani was a well-kept secret, one that he had been trying for months to unravel and understand with no luck. she didn’t like to discuss what her weekend plans were, or who her family was, or what she liked to do in her free time. if she wasn’t at the library, it was difficult for him to pin down where she disappeared too ( and he spent a lot of time at the library. ) yet one thing he had figured out about the woman kneeling down beside him was that she had a bleeding heart. the care she had for everything, from the cats in front of them to the library behind them, seeped out between every sentence. surrounded mostly by stuffy old scholars who had spent long enough studying philosophy that they thought humanity was doomed— or, at the very least, that it wasn’t very smart— it was a nice change of pace to talk to someone who had a brighter outlook.

“ why don’t you let them decide? “ akira questioned, gently moving her hand away from him as he squatted down beside her. his bag shifted against him, and he moved to rest it at his feet. he did have to nudge away another cat that took interest in the idea of what treats he might also have before he reached out to carefully take each canned option from her. balancing with his elbows against his knees, he held both cans out in front of him. a couple beats passed, before pushed the chicken back towards her, smile reaching his eyes as he met hers. a chorus of meows seemed to approve of his decision ( albeit, akira was certain the cats didn’t care which can of food they got. ) “ there’s your decision. “ he informed her, nodding pointedly towards the outstretched can. “ democracy is a flawed system, but in this case, i think their little brains are underdeveloped enough that the ones who didn’t want the chicken won’t cause an uprising. if they were capable of it, i think new york would have had that problem long before you came along to feed them. “

#*˖ ⊹ akira chavez ☆ﾟ ( thread )#*˖ ⊹ akira chavez ☆ﾟ ( ft. imani )

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thelightiningthief · 5 years ago

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i know it’s been said and done a million times, but wi// and nico’s relationship dynamic is written so oddly to me? i get rick is going for the whole “you annoy me but 😍” trope that he usually sticks to, but imo it comes off so forced and out of character here—for nico at least, since we haven’t had a huge taste of wi//‘s character outside of the medic role he had in tlo (which is a WHOLE other thing). like...nico just doesn’t seem like the type to jump right in the way he does with wi//! sure, he forms attachments pretty easily (case in point: percy), but i don’t feel that from their interactions. it feels more like “they’re going to be bickering left and right for no reason, almost getting themselves killed in the process—also wi// is essentially nico’s mom when he’s caring for him,” which i don’t...enjoy. also? uhhh wi//‘s randomly thrown into this story? out of basically nowhere? no offense but i literally hadn’t thought about wi// s0lace in like 20 years before boo. then he’s all buttered up and ready to go in the nico pov? sorry :/ thass poor characterization luv 😘 and i haven’t read past boo at this point (i’m catching up rn), but i’m fairly certain that rick doesn’t take the time to show how their relationship developed—they’re just IN one at some point?? tbh that doesn’t sit well with me; don’t Tell me they’re in a relationship, Show me! show me their build up and tension and friendship! give me frustration and disagreements and care for one another! i know that nico being gay was a huge revelation and was something we all needed at the ripe age(s) of 11-14, but reading boo displayed to me how rick essentially wished to appease the audience by throwing nico into a relationship with the closest twunk he could find :/ he didn’t take the time he did with percabeth, or even jasiper! he was honestly probably going for nico finally accepting himself and everyone else accepting him as well, but in terms of interpretation, authorial intent means nothing! in my opinion, nico should have stayed single and found acceptance through his already established friendships (jason, someone who’s been there for him through his forced confession and slowly became his friend; hazel, his sister who loves him so dearly and would accept him no matter what—even her possible biases due to being from a different time period; literally. any of the seven?? i’m not mentioning reyna or coach hedge since he essentially told them through the bryce lawrence incident, which kinda bothered me, but i’m not getting into that!). the idea of him doing this with a rando or even by himself defeats the purpose of his journey towards acceptance, because he’s run away from everyone and everything that may have helped him sooner, and to be fair jason...literally started this process already lol! he would reassure and talk to nico in a way that wasn’t condescending or forcing, moreso he was determined and simply stating facts to him in a respectful way. not to beat a dead horse, but jason grace really did say nico rights! that was a build up of weary trust, turned to respect, turned to friendship! i personally don’t, but if you ship so/ange/o, then you should see jason and nico got the development wi// and nico lack.

as a disclaimer, i’m not trying to bash your ship or anything—which is the main reason i censored wi// and so/ange/o. if i need to tag something else to where you don’t see it, just lmk and i’ll do it!

#pjo #nico di angelo #i’m just frustrated 😪#also is this technically discourse?#pjo discourse #i’ll tag it for now #tried to keep this relatively unbiased towards other characters!#but clearly the jasico slipped through the cracks towards the end #idrc though so! i’m keeping it :)#i won’t tag anyone else but nico though #idk why i’m treating this so carefully but i feel like i have to #my unpopular opinions be shining through lol!#mine

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softspiderling · 2 years ago

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speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.

summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence

word count: 5,5k

author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!

Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”

Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.

“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”

Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.

“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.”

Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.

“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”

Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”

So did he.

With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”

Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely.

“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”

Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.

He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.

“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”

“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked.

You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts.

“You okay?”

Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.

“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”

Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”

Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.

You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?

“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?”

You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up.

“Do you want me to give you away?”

“W-what?”

He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words.

“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.

“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”

Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.

Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.

“Where is this going, Bradley?”

Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.

Something he could never give you.

He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself.

You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends.

Just friends.

But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.

Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.

“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”

He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation.

“Bradley, I am serious.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face.

“I want to get married.”

The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”

“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”

“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”

“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”

“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”

“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body.

“Then what’s all this about?”

“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Do you want to get married? To me?”

“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”

“It’s a simple question, Bradley.”

He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him.

Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.

The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.

When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back.

Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”

Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?

You took his breath away.

As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar.

God, he was a mess.

Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister.

“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick.

You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.

“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”

“We will.”

The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long.

He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.

His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.

“Please don’t marry him.”

The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.

“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”

When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands.

Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe.

When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected, all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.

This was worse.

Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.

Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.

But it never came.

When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard.

“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen.

“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”

It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.

It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”

“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”

“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.

Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.

“That was fucked up, Rooster.”

Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.

“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.

Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”

“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”

“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him.

“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”

“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”

Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.

“Where’s Billy and Neil?”

“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.

“Is-?”

Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”

“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.

“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”

Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue.

“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”

Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation.

Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.

“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding.

“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”

Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.

“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”

“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”

“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”

The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm.

He had to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.

“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.

“Bradley!”

Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body.

Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words.

By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door.

Fuck.

“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”

“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”

“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”

Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”

Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in.

“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor.

“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously.

“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking.

“It’s me.”

He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly.

There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do.

“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands.

“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”

The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful.

“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling.

“Yeah, I walked here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”

“From my house.”

You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Have you talked to Henry?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”

Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much.

“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”

Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”

Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.

“Bradley, get up.”

“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes.

“... Okay then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”

Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.

author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!

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