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ladyloveandjustice · 2 years

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Spring 2022 Anime Overview: Some More Good Food

I’ve talked about three interesting anime about awesome girls from the Spring 2022 season, but what about the rest of my watch list? Well, Spring was smorgasboard of scrumptious shows and here are my thoughts on the rest of what I saw!

(Note I left some in the backlog because there was SO much good-sounding anime this season and I had a feeling summer season would be pretty barren in comparison...and it is. So I’ve recently started Ya Boy Kongming and will probably watch Aharen-San too, but they won’t be getting reviews)

Spy x Family

This one was such a smash hit I don’t feel like I need to say much about it. The golden premise is that we’ve got a highly fictionalized, extremely loosely cold war inspired setting in which a spy needs a fake family to infiltrate a fancy school and stop a war. For this purpose, he just so happens to adopt a daughter, Anya, who’s a telepath (he does not realize this), and then (in part thanks to Anya thinking it would be cool and setting it up) he ends up fake marrying an assassin (without either of them realizing it). The entire family is keeping secrets to each other and desperately trying to pretend to be normal, but despite all the subterfuge, they develop a love for each other that’s clearly real, and find people who can accept them for their weird quirks.

Spy x Family is just a good time, a great mix of action and comedy with loveable characters. It has an extremely broad appeal and the animators clearly knew they had a hit on their hands, because they bought their A-game when it comes to beefing up both the action scenes and the comical expressions and jokes. It’s a top quality treat to watch all the way though.

Pretty much the only thing to watch out for in this anime is the sadly all-too-common character who’s way too obsessed with his sister (and he’s a member of the secret police, so all around garbage person), though since the sister in question is married, much stronger than him, and they’re both adults, it’s far less…horrific than anime can usually get about it. (I will say his dub actor makes him unhinged enough I found myself laughing at some of his lines, and he did fulfill his role as a catalyst for shenanigans). Having read ahead in the manga, he also doesn’t show up too much.

Overall, SXF is an easy rec. Whether you’re here for ass-kicking, cuteness, or to laugh a bit, it’ll scratch that itch.

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War Season 3

Speaking of animators who always bring their A-game, Kaguya-sama is back and as always it’s a spectacle. Especially the rap episode, which was bonkers and has to be seen to believed. Glad it’s canon Chika said motherfucker...twice. It’s still very funny, but doesn’t quite reach the hilarious heights of the second season and there were a couple more uncomfortable jokes- namely the series’ first ever mention of queerness is Chika mistaking Shirogane and Hayasaka-in-disguise-as-a-boy as being in a relationship and getting excited nosebleeds over it while also mentioning once that she’s “not sure if I should stop them or cheer them on”, so, not great.

However, on the character development front, this season was really great for almost everyone (except Chika, weirdly, because as the other characters have gotten nicer and gained depth, she stays the same and thus comes off meaner. Still pretty funny though!) We got to see Hayasaka assert her needs more with Kaguya, both Kaguya and Shirogane reevaluate their priorities, Ishigami continues the develop in a positive direction and…we make REAL PROGRESS on the central relationship. That’s right, actual solid progress on a will-they-won’t they rom com and the central premise of the series itself is challenged in a satisfying (and fun) way.

One thing that always bugged me a bit was that while we see a lot about what Kaguya sees in Shirogane and how she’s changed because of him, we don’t see her from his point of view and why he likes her as much, and this season actually fixes that by showing how he fell in love with her and how she inspired him and shaped a lot of his time in the school. There was solid growth for the characters and it will be interesting where they go next!

Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie

Sometimes you just want to watch a show about good kids being sweet and adorable, and that’s exactly what this series is. Anyone who comes in expecting a strong comedy will be disappointed, but if you’re down for a soothing, slower paced romantic slice of life, you might end up liking it.

The central idea of the series is Izumi is a very terminally unlucky, danger prone soft boi who has a cool, princely girlfriend who protects him, and a I’ve seen a lot of people react like “ugh, are gender roles so restrictive that even having a girl who’s cool AND cute is considered subversive enough center a comedy around” but that like…clearly misses the point of the series, which is allow you to imagine being in the the position where you can watch your girlfriend be cool and dashing and sweep you up in her strong arms, which as a lesbian, I 100% am here for.

‘Cool Girlfriend’ fantasies are nothing new, but what sets Shikimori apart as enjoyable is it doesn’t go into the aspects of that fantasy that usually lose me- like the part where the average joe boy stumbles into being better than the cool girl at everything, because he can only be worthy if he outdoes her, or the part where the boy doesn’t have to put in any effort while the girl centers her life around him, or the part where she gets her clothes shredded…you get what I’m saying.

Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie works because Izumi works just as hard to make Shikimori happy as Shikimori works for him. It’s clear WHY she likes him- he’s genuinely very kind and, despite being cursed by the universe with bad luck, he spends most of his time thinking about the people around him and doing his best with what he has rather than being resentful. He also appreciates Shikimori for who she is and loves her dashing nature. Shikimori and the supporting cast also have enough interiority we’re actually able to spend an entire episode without Izumi in it at all.

Granted, Shikimori’s backstory- “I was just following along imitating other people in my family, which very coincidentally meant I was being more traditionally masculine and doing more masculine activities, until I discovered my TRUE dream (after reading a single chapter of shoujo manga), which just very coincidentally involved being more feminine”- is such a eyerollingly common cliché in anime that Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun parodied it, but the end result is Shikimori discovered she didn’t have to hide the protective, rambunctious “cool” parts of herself even if she wants to be cute too, which while a common ending to this cliche backstory, isn’t a bad message.

It also did that thing I really love in anime like Kimi ni Todoke where two girls are set up to be romantic rivals, but instead a girl is like “well, liking this guy is something we have in common, actually, how could I hate you for having the same feelings I do?” and it becomes a point of bonding and reason for them to be friends. Look, is a little idealistic to hope for that for messy teenagers? Yes. Does it make want to cry and do I still absolutely love seeing a story where, where the cliche of women fighting over a man instead becomes a point of solidarity between girls? Also yes. Shikimori’s Not Just a Cutie is a world where good, sweet kids support each other no matter what, and it’s heartwarming to spend time with them.

In this cute friend group, Shikimori isn’t shamed for being traditionally masculine in some ways and nobody ever gets on Izumi for being in a more traditionally feminine role either. It’s not anything earthshattering or amazing, but it’s a sweet anime and sometimes it’s nice to escape to a world like this and enjoy the chill vibes.

Ascendance of a Bookworm Season 3

Unfortunately, I found this entry of Bookworm to be a lot weaker than its previous seasons, perhaps because of it’s truncated 10 episode runtime. It’s still a good show with interesting world-building and there’s a lot of big status quo shakeups for Myne…but it all feels pretty rushed, especially considered how huge and sad a lot of things that happen at the end are. Light novel fans have mentioned it does dash through the plot comparison to the source material, and that makes me curious to check them out. Basically, still good, had some shakeups, but I was left just a little wanting- that’s really all I have to say about it.

#spring 2022 anime #anime overview #spy x family #kaguya sama love is war #ascendance of a bookworm #shikimori's not just a cutie #my reviews

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 11 months

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Really excellent episode of The Bugle to close the current season, before they take their summer break and come back in September. The latest episode of The Bugle featured Chris Addison and Nish Kumar, which is about the best lineup they can possibly have.

I recently heard Chris Addison’s episode of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, which I think backs up a theory I’ve had about him for a while: that he only goes on The Bugle because he likes writing stand-up and doesn’t do it anymore. He used to be mainly a stand-up comedian, but for the last decade or so has been a sitcom writer and movie director and actor and a number of other things that are not stand-up comedy.

He recorded his episode of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast in 2019, just after he’d directed The Hustle, a big American movie with Rebel Wilson and Anne Hathaway and other proper movie stars. Stuart Goldsmith asked a lot of questions about that, obviously, because you’re not going to not ask someone about it if they’ve just directed a movie with Rebel Wilson. And Chris Addison answered them, he wasn’t rude or anything. He didn’t seem actively opposed to talking about it. He said some mildly interesting things about what it’s like to direct a movie in America.

But he also took any opportunity to bring the conversation around to other stuff. The stand-up that he used to do, his old Radio 4 shows, his work with Armando Iannucci. Even his time on panel shows. He talked really enthusiastically about the one episode of Catsdown he’s ever done, how very funny his fellow panelists were (he specifically gave credit to Joe Wilkinson and in his words “the lovely David O’Doherty”, and if it were possible for me to be any more on Chris Addison’s side than I already was, those words would have gotten me there), how it showed him other sides to comedy that he hadn’t recognized before. And then he talked for a long time about how great Mock the Week was, a show on which he was a regular for a few years around 2009 (in the post-Frankie Boyle/Russell Howard, but pre-Josh Widdicombe/James Acaster years). Stuff that, to be honest, I’d expect him not to be too proud of. Panel shows aren’t groundbreakingly exciting like directing Veep, or cool and intellectual like his Radio 4 stuff. But he didn’t seem to mind. He was excited about all of it. Chris Addison honestly didn’t show any sense that he thought his movie directing career was more worth discussing than his panel shows or his stand-up or anything else.

He really wanted to talk about stand-up, about radio writing, about how to be funny off the cuff on TV. About how Armando Iannucci is all the great things I imagine while creating his masterpieces. About how to write material and how to be inspired by other great comedians and do enough research to really get things right in those history-based Edinburgh shows he did in the early 00s that also became Radio 4 things.

Chris Addison started appearing on The Bugle in April 2021, and has been on it nine times since then. Every single time, including the episode that aired yesterday, he’s shown up with a surplus of material. He has overdone his homework, he has pre-written stuff about every topic (which is normal up to a point, the comedians on The Bugle do get the topics beforehand and are supposed to write stuff about them, but they rarely write as much as Chris Addison does for a single episode), he talks so fast and so enthusiastically because he cannot wait to get all his words out. Several times, Andy Zaltzman and the other guests have told him, half-jokingly, to slow down because he’s making everyone else look bad. One time, Nish Kumar made a comment along those lines, about how over-prepared Chris Addison was, and Chris replied that the amount he’d written for that episode might seem impressive, but it’s less impressive when you remember that this is pretty much the only material he’s written in ten years.

I think that’s why he’s like that. I think he loved stand-up, doesn’t do it anymore because he’s making movies and sitcoms and stuff now, but misses it and will take any opportunity to write some more material or even just talk about how great that type of comedy is. He truly doesn’t think any of it’s beneath him, even though, as I said, his movie starred Anne Hathaway.

I think that’s why he turns up on The Bugle at all. I mean, there has to be some reason he’s there. He doesn’t have to be. He must make enough money off TV and stuff to not need whatever paycheque he gets from sporadic Bugle episodes. The Bugle also rewards its guests with exposure to its international audience – Tom Ballard is coming to Canada next week, and I’ve bought a ticket to see him because of his Bugle appearances. But Chris Addison has directed HBO TV shows and a major American movie. I don’t think he needs his old Radio 4 Department co-writer Andy Zaltzman to help him out with international audiences.

So I think he turns up on The Bugle for the same reason John Oliver kept doing that podcast for many years after he could possibly have needed the money or exposure: he likes it. He likes writing topical comedy material and performing it with other topical comedians. And he’s good at it.

One of my main reactions, as the Earth moves steadily towards its post-human phase, is who knew Armageddon would be this slow? As someone who grew up in the 80s, I was very much expecting that when the end of the world came, we would all be evaporated with only three minutes warning. I didn’t think the whole thing would be eeked out over years, and involve quite so much in the way of celebrities raising awareness. That is one of the main advantages of a nuclear strike – even in the age of smartphones, it leaves Gary Barlow and Gal Gadot very little time to organize a video of people who are dull when they go on Jimmy Kimmel singing Ebony and Ivory in their Malibu kitchens. There is something very absolute about a three-minute warning. Three minutes gives you time for a sandwich, a speed wank, or to say goodbye to your loved ones, depending on your personal situation and preference. But the Armageddon de nos jour leaves far too much time for contemplation and guilt. And that is the other good thing about an all-out nuclear war. You can absolutely frame that as entirely the fault of other people. But climate disaster is something we’re all being held responsible for. I’ll be honest with you, Andy, I can do without that. I’ve got enough guilt and shame as it is. My guilt and shame dance card is extremely full. I’ve already got to fit in ruminating on my failings as a husband and father, the broad and deep consequences of empire, forgetting to put a wash on, my inherent advantages as a straight white man, accidentally treading on the cat, Western hegemony, the fact that I’ve chosen this job instead of something that actually helps humans, and leaving the milk out so it went off. That’s enough to deal with. Maybe I can fit global warming in between not being a dutiful enough son, and my part in Channel 4’s early internet show Dotcomedy, but honestly, I can’t promise anything.

-Chris Addison, The Bugle, July 18, 2023

If you want to know what he's talking about at the end there...

youtube

Okay, maybe he's not proud of everything he ever did in the earlier days of his career. And maybe that's for the best.

#Youtube

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thedemisapphic · 1 year

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Master Post

Hi! Welcome! This is where you can find all of my work and things related to it. There will be links to fanfics, Spotify playlists inspired by some of my fanfics, and some art I made to compliment my fanfics. No comics or anything, I usually go for more artsy stuff than telling a story via art. That’s what Google docs is for!!! Anyway on with the list.

Healing Promises - Completed

Healing Promises is the first fanfic I ever made, so it’s not the BEST quality. I’ve gotten better. The POV moves around a lot and I shoves a bunch of different tropes in here. I tried to make it funny, i don’t think it worked. You can see a summary of it in the link, it’s finished. When I first started writing it, I got inspired by an animatic. So I expanded on that idea, not really expecting it to be a big thing yet. Had no plot planned, it just kinda. Formed. It was SUPPOSED to be a fanfic where Leo faces struggles, confronts some problems, and finally starts the path to healing. But I don’t think I did it right .-. I’m not kidding when I say I WISH I could rewrite this better because it turned into such an interesting plot but I just executed it poorly compared to what I now know I can do. But a lot of people seem to like it so. It exists.

A photo I made for Healing Promises. No I do not care about it enough to add a watermark lol it’s a stupid drawing but I think it’s funny.

The Silly Room - Completed

This story is about Raph’s trauma with the Krang. Specifically the aftermath. He may have gotten rid of the Krang gunk that physically consumed him, but it’s only a matter of time before Krang One works his way back into Raph’s head via the Krang hive mind he’s still attached to and tries to take control a second time. Donnie is working to find a way to stop this,researching what’s going on in the first place, and faces his own fair share of struggles as he watches his brother get worse and worse. As things progress, the use of trigger warnings will become more regular. Mainly descriptions of violence and medical emergencies.

This story has a more cemented POV. Mainly Raph, but I rely on Donnie’s POV for a decent chunk of the story for a bit. It’s more than twice as long as Healing Promises is, and has a better plot and pacing if I do say so myself. I REALLY wanted heavy Raph angst and so I made it and I love it.

This is the cover for The Silly Room. You can find other art for this fanfic under the tag “The Silly Room”.

Here’s a playlist I made based on The Silly Room! Think of it like a trailer of sorts. This is the kind of vibes this story gives off. Fair warning, I was going for creepy manipulative possessive vibes. So if you don’t like that then this playlist isn’t for you. But I love it. Every song has some sort of meaning and was put there purposefully. Some have more meaning than others but they all definitely do. Yes, even the tinker bell song. Not every meaning comes at face value.

This Is Why You Never Go To New Jersey - Completed

This is a Halloween fic I made for this year, it’s just 5 chapters but if you like spooky haunted churches and angst, then you’ll like this.

A playlist for it if you want it :)

What If It Was Raph? - Chapters 5/?

The title pretty much explains what this is about

Turtle Tot Fanfic - yet to be properly named or written

This is basically is Raph, Donnie, and Leo were turned into tots! Like that deleted episode we didn’t get :( except… I make it last through basically all of season 2. I make my own changes, so not EVERYTHING that happened in season two happens here, but I try to stick as close to the important canon as I can. I think I want to start it somewhere between the episode Air Turtle and The Hidden City Job. Not sure where exactly, but something like that.

I actually am looking for someone to help me develop ideas further and fill in blanks for this! Each chapter is going to act as an episode, and the show had more than one person working on things and pitching ideas. So I see no reason why I can’t do the same thing :D! If you’re interested, here’s a link detailing things a bit more. It’s very important that my boundaries are respected if you agree to help me.

When I have content for this fanfic, you’ll find it here!

That’s all for now! I have an Instagram that let’s you know when chapters come out for any ongoing fics I’m working on, right now it’s every Saturday at noon. QR code to that Instagram below because I can’t figure out the link👇

#fanfic #rottmnt fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #angst #ROTTMNT #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #Spotify #the silly room #art #digital art

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ravagedarkness · 1 year

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Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 5: Grocery Shopping

Saturday morning rolled around. Last night’s patrol was relatively easygoing. Other than that one car chase, I didn’t really do much. New York was mostly quiet. So, when I woke up, I didn’t have much in the way of aches and pains – just the normal soreness, and that would go away soon.

I sat at my desk, looking down at a piece of notebook paper and a pen. I was friends with MJ and Ned again. And I’ve gotten closer with Betty than I ever did before the spell. I guess we were kind of friends during that time, but it was never to a point where we were in the same group chat, bantering with everyone else.

“Funny how things can change,” I muttered to myself.

I thought about the plan again – the original one I made before I wanted to keep my distance away from MJ and Ned for their sake. A part of me was screaming inside, telling me not to go back to that plan. Memories from the time leading up to the spell flooded my mind, reminding me about how every single mistake and fuck-up led to every bad thing that happened during that time, from MJ and Ned being rejected by every single college they applied to, to villains from other dimensions wreaking havoc across New York, to Happy’s apartment being destroyed…

…to Aunt May’s death.

I took in a breath and I clenched my eyes shut. I felt myself start to unravel. Slowly, I breathed in and out deeply, trying to keep myself from breaking down. It was something I’ve always done since that fateful day.

Don’t cry… Don’t Cry… Don’t...

I was taken out of my thoughts when I saw my phone vibrate. I took in another breath and blinked a few times. I then reached down and checked the text.

“Hey Dork.”

And just like that, my mood lightened. I shook my head. If only MJ knew the kind of effect she had on me. I typed back.

“Hey MJ. What’s going on?”

“Heard Ned invited you over tonight. You coming?”

“Yes.” I typed it and sent it without thinking. After a few moments, I sent another message. “Matter fact, I have to give him a call. I told him I’d let him know and meet him earlier.”

“Good. Because being the third wheel on Ned and Betty’s date is not how I like to spend my Saturday night. Like, ugh! Can you imagine! >.<”

“They love each other. But if you need me to suffer with you, I suppose I can do that for you.”

“Well aren’t you cute.”

“Oh I’m adorable.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you 2nite, loser!”

“Likewise.”

I set the phone down for a moment. I then looked down at the piece of paper in front of me. I picked up the pen and started to make a list of sorts. Once I was done, I put my pen down and picked the phone back up before I dialed Ned’s number. After some moments, he picked up.

“Hey Ned. I’m down to hang out. Where and when do you want me to meet you?”

A couple of hours later, I got ready to head out. As I was dressing, I eyed my Spider-Man suit. I remembered how Peter #2 wore his suit underneath his clothes. As I thought about it, it didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. Plus, with it still being winter, it would’ve been easy for me to conceal with clothes fit for the season. After thinking about it, I grabbed the suit.

A few minutes later, the suit was underneath a pair of blue jeans and a black sweater over a white shirt. I made sure my webshooters were concealed underneath the sleeves of my sweater and a pair of gloves. After I put on my sneakers, I grabbed my keys and made my way out.

About thirty minutes later, I met Ned in front of a supermarket.

“What’s up?” he greeted.

“I’m here,” I replied. The two of us shared a simple handshake. He then looked a bit confused as he withdrew his hand. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… Okay, call me weird… I know we just started becoming friends very recently, but I feel like we should have our own handshake or something.”

I smiled in amusement. “Really?”

“Yeah. Weird, right? But… MJ and I were talking the other day. We feel like you fit in nice with our whole group. So, maybe it’s not just a coincidence?”

It wasn’t. That’s what I wanted to say. But I couldn’t.

Not yet, a part of me thought.

Instead, I smiled wryly. “Let’s be weird together, right?” I offered.

“Yeah,” Ned said with a nod. “But let’s go inside and get what we need.”

Once we were inside, we grabbed a grocery cart and went searching. Well, Ned went searching, and I just followed him around and helped him grab stuff. We started off at the meat aisle and grabbed two whole chickens that were precut into its major portions. After that, we went to the spice aisle and grabbed the seasoning Ned needed. As I looked at some of the spices, Ned spoke.

“I’m sorry about asking about your family the other night,” he apologized.

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it,” I said dismissively. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Are you like on bad terms with your folks or something?”

I grabbed a bottle filled with peppercorns and tossed it into Ned’s cart. “I almost wish.” I paused for a moment. I looked at him. “I don’t have much left as far as family goes. And I don’t really like to dwell on it.” I left out the part where I felt like a good chunk of it was my fault. “I’m just… I made some bad decisions before and I’m trying my best to pick up the pieces.”

“I see,” Ned said. “…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I smiled. “My life isn’t as dreary as it sounds, I promise you. GED classes are cool – it helps that my teacher is a pretty okay guy. But he’s very mysterious.”

“Oh really?” Ned inquired as he started to push the cart. I walked with him.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about him, to be honest. He just gives me the impression that he’s like one of those movie characters, the ones that have mundane jobs but used to be some kind of Special Forces guy in the past.”

“You know, I remember a guest speaker at Midtown like that.” Ned stopped briefly to grab some brown sugar. “He’s this tenured professor at UMass, and he was a former Marine for a while that saw action.”

“Really now?”

We continued to shop, talking about lighter subjects. We talked about food, Star Wars (which mostly consisted of me defending The Prequel Trilogy), life as a student, and, as we stepped outside once we were finished, girls.

“So, you like MJ, don’t you?” Ned pried with a smirk.

We were walking down the street, heading towards the Time Square-42nd Street station. We both had bags in our hands. I decided to grab a few things for myself. As far as MJ went, I was trying my very best to lie, even though I felt my face getting warm. “Who doesn’t like MJ?” I replied, trying to brush it off.

“But you LIKE her like her.” He started to walk ahead of me before he turned around and faced me, walking backward. “Something about you two just click.” I would have hoped so, given how long we dated. But that was another life. “You know… February is around the corner. You should ask her out to the Valentine’s Day dance we’re going to have at School.”

“Oh, what do you think is going to happen? We’ll do a slow dance, confess our love for each other, and start a whole dance number that everyone joins in on like it is High School Musical? Somehow, I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping you’d ask her out so she can actually come to the dance. She doesn’t really go to these things unless someone drags her along, you know?”

“She never went to Homecoming?” I asked. I already knew the answer.

“She has, but like only once. And even then, Homecoming is different. You can go to Homecoming by yourself. Having a date is encouraged, but not required. But going to a Valentine’s Day dance by yourself, though? The only thing worse than that is taking your sister as a date.”

I had a snarky comment about that. It dealt with a certain region of the United States. But I didn’t get a chance to say it. Just as I opened my mouth, I felt my spine tingle. There was a buzzing in my head and I felt my skin get a bit tight as the hair on my arms raised. My eyes went wide as I started to look around.

“Peter, are you okay, man?”

I didn’t answer, trying my best to get a bearing of my surroundings. I looked around frantically, trying to see what stuck out. There were people walking, a couple of kids having an impromptu snowball fight, people waiting at the bus stop, a man in a suit having an argument on the phone. Everything seemed normal. So why was my senses going off?

I finally got my answer when I looked at traffic again. There was a line of three armored trucks making their way through traffic. They were all abiding the rules of traffic. However, as they cross a nearby intersection, the lead truck was plowed into by a garbage truck! Quickly after that, three black SUVs moved in. After they skidded to a stop, all of their doors and men with black suits, black ski masks, and automatic rifles poured out of the vehicles. One of the gunmen quickly opened fired in the air, causing people to scatter. Not knowing what else to do, Ned and I ducked into the nearest alleyway. We both leaned up against the wall, with me looking out towards the street as people ran for their lives.

“Two times in one week?” Ned said. “How does that even happen?”

“I don’t know,” I replied as I shook my head. “We must be lucky or something.”

“You call this lucky?!”

“I mean, at least we didn’t get grabbed or something.”

And of course, that’s exactly what happened.

Before any of us knew it, we were pulled through the wall we were leaning on. Both of us stumbled backward before we landed on the ground. Unfortunately, all of our groceries scattered across the floor.

“Oh great, how can this day get any worse?” he asked.

“That’s a funny way to say thank you,” a voice replied. I looked up to see Kitty and Craig looking down at us.

“Oh, it’s you guys!” I said quickly moved to my feet and started to put my groceries back in the bag. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Aw, I thought us meeting under the threat of gunfire is our special thing,” Craig snarked. “But seriously, y’all didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?”

“We’re good, I think,” Ned said as he started to gather up his groceries. “Fancy meeting you guys here.”

“It was our day to go grocery shopping,” Kitty explained. “I was hoping we didn’t have to use our quick change costumes, but here we are.”

“You guys think you can handle this?” I asked in earnest as I stood up.

“Did you not see what we did at St. James?” Craig pointed out.

“True.” I then looked at Ned, who was gathering up the last of the groceries. “…How far are we from the subway station?"

“Not that far, actually,” Kitty said.

“…Can you phase Ned straight there?”

“Me?” Ned said as he quickly stood up. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” I said with a smile. I then gave him my bag of groceries. “Trust me.”

Ned stared at me. He then sighed as he stood up. “Okay, but only because it’s you.”

“Let’s go,” Kitty stated before she stepped up and grabbed Ned by the shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t panic.”

After she said this, the two of them sunk into the ground before they disappeared completely.

“What was that about?” Craig demanded, giving me a look. “She could’ve taken both of you there easily.”

I looked at him for a second. I then grimaced. “…Can you keep a secret?” He stared at me for few seconds. He then nodded. I removed my jacket and tossed it off to the side. I then took off my shirt, revealing the top half of Spider-Man costume. Craig stared at me dumbfounded. He then huffed out a breath.

“Wow,” he said as he shook his head. “Wow, wow, wow… Just, wow.” He laughed as he turned and walked away a few steps. He then looked back at me. “So, you’re telling me that, this whole time, you, Peter, are freakin’ Spider-Man.”

“Yes,” I said as removed the rest of my clothes. I pulled the collar of my costume with my left hand before I used my right hand to pull out my mask.

“And do your friends know?”

“Nope.” I pulled down the mask. “Not yet. It’s a long story.”

It was at this point that Kitty returned, dawning her cat mask. “Okay, I’m back and… Spider-Man?!” She walked up to me. “When did you get here? And where’s Peter?”

“Take a guess,” Craig replied as he zipped his hoodie and brought his hood up.

Kitty stared at me for a few moments. She then tilted her head. “…You’re kidding?”

“No, it really is me,” I said in earnest.

“…Why didn’t you help us at the theatre?”

“Because his friends don’t know,” Craig explained.

“But they can keep a secret.”

“I’ll explain everything afterwards,” I cut in. “Just know that telling them I’m Spider-Man would open up a can of worms that I’m not ready to open yet.” I then heard the sound of sirens and gunshots. Craig looked towards the wall. He then sighed as he reached under his hood and pulled down a ski mask.

“It’s not like we got time to talk about it now, anyway,” he said. “Let’s just get out there and handle whatever it is that is going on.”

“Okay,” Kitty said. She then gave me a pointed look. “This ain’t over, Peter. We WILL be talking about this when this is over.”

“Of course,” I said.

“Just as long as you know.” She grabbed my shoulder with her right hand. Craig walked up to her and stood to her left. She grabbed his shoulder with her free hand. “Codenames from here on out. Frictor, you and Spider-Man will attack from ground level and above. I’ll ambush them from below. And remember – civilians take priority over everything. Okay?”

“Got it, Shadowcat,” I said as Craig nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

We all walked forward and through the wall. Once we were all through, Kitty sunk through the ground. Craig looked at me before he pointed upward. I nodded before I quickly jumped up on the walk and quickly crawled upward. I paused for a moment to look down at Craig.

“Be careful, Frictor,” I called down.

“You, too Spidey,” he replied. “Let’s send them packing!”

I nodded before I resumed my ascent, once I reached the roof, I quickly ran to the other edge before I jumped off.

Let the fun begin, I deadpanned internally.

#fanfic #spideychelle #spider-man #mcu #peter parker #michelle mj jones #ned leeds #betty brant #scott summers #kitty pryde #carmilla black #original character #jade cargill #petermj #mj peter #michelle jones #mj x peter #Mj #tomdaya

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sarahtrainsbrains · 2 years

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Update, Burst of Blog

I rode down from the mountains, refreshed to return to this boiling city of Atlanta. Things get warped in time these days, these years, for me, for everyone? Woo, alright, let’s party together.

Report from a slow poke and a downer, I’m up to another white dot on the forward edge of my ever flabbergasting tumor. A quicker growing dot, shown brighter on the MRI on the front side of the mushy sideless thing. The one place makes the entire lower ranks (Grade 2) labeled in the upper ranks (Grade 4), but the lower ranks seem satisfied.

They should be satisfied. For all this blog time gap it has continuously given me partial seizures, on extreme average, once a week. They change in their nature as ever, waving upon the anti-seizure drugs flipping, the stress, the seasons. The whole nervous system, really, tip toes and dances with the whole brain, and thus the body follows. It’s curious and limiting, to say the least. I write down fancy freedom in my journal.

And what pushes me to say much is that I’m starting a new chemo — Temodar (temozolomide). I recall promising many times that I would never do chemo again after my other regime more than a decade ago, but this one sounded like “chemo lite,” and so far so good, all things considered. It is six months long (possibly more) and I’m on my second month. You take one pill for five days, then spend the rest of the month feeling what damage they did, and getting your blood tested, where they want to have good blood counts. And I won’t lose much hair. We shall see.

After those old/young years of getting chemo-stuck in hospitals, kicking my bone marrow thus blood count … these pills are a sweet deal. Meant only for brains. Medicine progresses oddly. Things get funny. I’m trying to learn enough about the whole American medical system. The whole thing, so I can project my rages in a healthy way... It will take a long while. And my oncologist just left town. And it was already hard to have my epilepsy folks talk to my neuro people. No complaints, Emory, just a note I’ll get to.

I’ve landed in Decatur, owning a place we call “Down Yonder,” (etc) shared with my uncle Walter. Right in the swampier part, increasingly surrounded by very supportive family, and the cemetery’s ghosts. Magnolia trees hang out with palm trees. Lots of chipmunks will sound like strangers crunching in the night. Companionship of doggie Junie. And the gentle Alaskan Malamute Dealer next door.

Thanks for the courage-encouraging letters I’ve gotten! How lovely, what sunny days. Give me a ride back up, up to the fourth of July parade, and Happy America. Much love.

Sarah

#cancer #brains #chemo #emory #love

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imlonelyalt · 2 years

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warning : stranger things season 4 spoilers.

you wont believe this, but..

pairing : steve harrison x (gn) reader

notes : i’m only up to episode 4 but like.. i’ve seen him fighting demobats?? eddie playing guitar? i want them i mean they are both so cool haha 🤗🤗🙏🙏 ANGST LMAOOO YAYY also this isn’t that good? i never know how to resolve angst so THIS IS UNEDITED BTW

warning : stranger things season 4 spoilers. you have been warned again just to be safe lol. also gore? you just treat his wounds but i don’t really go much into detail so

you had gotten into a fight. that was it; you didn’t want to elaborate, and even if you did, you really couldn’t. he was angry, furious even, and you were confused and trying to get answers.

‘listen, this is far beyond you and the last thing i need right now is for you to get involved.’ he emphasised, his hands flying about as he pleaded. you were scared and you wanted answers once you saw him packing without warning, your curiosity peaking when you saw a bloody wooden bat in his hand. trying to reason with him, you opened your mouth to speak.

so you sat on your lounge, head in your hands thinking. not about anything in particular— that was a lie. you thought about steve, and what exactly he was doing. he said it included the kids, and a tinge of jealously nagged at your heart. you were confused about why he wouldn’t tell you anything and why he insisted on keeping it a secret. one question remained, was he really with the kids?

‘this is important to me, and it’s also important that you don’t find out about this.’ seeing your puzzled expression he palmed his face, groaning with frustration. ‘it’s not like that, it’s just between me and them.’ them being the group of kids he had practically adopted — as funny of a joke as it was it was starting to become true in a way — they looked up to him.

you clicked through tv channels, resting your head on the padded cushion as you felt a fat tear drip down your cheek. god, when did you start crying?

‘so you’d rather hang out with some group of kids you met at your job over me? you won’t even offer for me to come along?’

you stayed on a channel with a movie in black and white running. you grimaced, groaning and listening along — it wasn’t like there was any better crap to watch anyways.

‘no. no way—‘ he spluttered, trying to think of words. he was so tall he towered over you, looking around for anything to help bring words into his head. ‘that’s not what i—‘

you bit back a sob as you dug your spoon into a risotto you made the night before, forehead creasing as your mind seemed to overflow with endless questions.

‘are you embarrassed of me, steve?’ you blurted, and you almost regretted it — almost. the angry expression on his face shattered, now replaced with one of shock and hurt. he grabbed the bag full of snacks and weapons, an odd combination, and shuffled past you. ‘i’m sorry.’ he muttered, making his way to the door. ‘steve, wait—‘ but the door had already been shut, and he was gone.

the doorball rang once, and you stared at the door in silence. your legs were curled up beneath you, you were wearing a big hoodie — steve’s hoodie, and you were comfortable. you were going nowhere. it rang again and you swallowed a mouthful of risotto before yelling, ‘go away!’ there was silence from the other side of the door and you settled down again, easing yourself before —

ding ding ding ding ding ding din—

you growled in annoyance, putting your plate down before heading to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open with gritted teeth and a sarcastic smile saying, ‘can i help you?’ your voice died down as you realized who it was standing there. ‘steve.’

he was breathing heavily, his right eye battered and bruised, shining a dark purple. his neck had a thick, angry purple bruise ringed around it. his shirt was torn and bloody, and you didn’t even recognize the jacket that he had on. it wasn’t just his shirt that was bloody, however — it was everywhere on him, and you were more worried about whether or not it was his blood or not. ‘can i come in?’ he asked breathlessly, and when you nodded he shuffled in, dumping his (now tattered) bag of food and weapons on the kitchen island.

‘what’s going on, steve?’ you asked, eyebrows furrowed. you placed a hand on his back when you came up behind him and he winced, saying a small ‘sorry’ before shuffling out of your touch. ‘steve?’ you hissed, ‘i’m not mad, i’m just confused. what’s going on? whose blood is this?’

‘too many questions at once, n/n.’ he peeled off the jacket and revealed the ripped slits in his shirt, leaving you free to gape at the open, bloody cuts on his back. they were in thin, long strips and it got to the point where you couldn’t see most of them because of the smeared blood on his back.

‘steve!’ you gasped, ushing him to sit down as you rushed around, filing through cabinets and pulling out a makeshift first aid kit — you always insisted on having it, claiming it would come in handy. ‘please; explain.’ he was silent, though his mouth was open — like he was trying to think of something to say.

‘bats!’ he blurted, much to your confusion as you were running around trying to find tissues. ‘bats. uh — yeah.’ he put a hand through his (somewhat intact) hair. ‘we got swooped.’ and it seemed believable, they looked similar to bat cuts, but it didn’t explain the blood everywhere else — and the black sludge on his shoes that you didn’t even want to know about. grabbing some disinfectant and pouring it on a tissue, you puffed out your cheeks.

‘this might hurt.’ he sucked a breath in in preparation and you applied the tissue to the many cuts on his back, hearing him seethe as you gently dragged the tissue down his back, following the streaks that ran along. ‘so. bats huh?’ receiving a nod in response, you tore the soggy tissue aside and began cleaning the excess blood from the wounds. ‘seems like they were pretty angry bats.’

‘don’t— don’t say it like that.’ he groaned, and you began applying bandages, deciding to put two layers as the first had already began to be soaked by the angry, red cuts. ‘like what?’ you pried curiously, applying the final bandage a bit too tight. grunting with surprise, he replied, ‘like you don’t believe me.’

‘that’s not true — i do believe you.’ you shrugged, making your way to his side of the lounge and dropping down beside him. ‘parts of it.’ he huffed, shaking his hand and using his hand to rub and pinch his forehead. ‘i don’t want to tell you to keep you safe.’ he replied, frustrated. ‘i told you that before.’

scoffing, you replied, ‘i can handle myself as much as you can. also, ‘keep me safe?’ are you putting the kids are danger? are they even a part of this?’ you pressed, gently rubbing your thumb over a previously healed cut. you had excused all of the previous injuries, reguarding him as a clumsy guy and making him promise you that he will be more safe next time — but he always came back with more ‘accidents’.

‘god.’ he blowed air from his nose, shaking his head. ‘you really want to know? fine. but you have to promise me that if anything happens to you, at all, you tell me.’ nodding vigorously, you began fiddling with your hands. ‘okay. it all started with..’

—

‘so..’ you spoke slowly, squinting and processing the information in your head before you spoke. ‘there’s a clock. and — and this haunted house, a watergate.. and bats?’ you trailed off, tilting your head slightly. ‘demobats.’ he nodded, ushing you to cointinue. ‘right. and this — vecna guy is trying to kill your friend, and is responsible for all the murders around town..?’ you finished, looking at him as your expression twisted from one of confusion to guilt. ‘i shouldn’t have pried.’ you muttered, and he shook his head.

‘stop that.’ he put his arm on your shoulder, tugging you close as you felt the warmth of his body flow between you, your breathing synced for a moment as he rested his chin on your forehead. ‘this isn’t your fault and it isn’t mine. i think.‘ he grumbled, squeezing you. ‘the only thing we can do is wait for our next part of the plan.’ putting a kiss on your head, he grinned. ‘and i’ll be fine.’

‘promise?’ you asked, looking up at him. and for a moment he was silent, his gaze meeting yours. it was nothing he could promise and he was aware, but your gaze and presence itself gave him the courage to try. and the best thing was that it made him feel like he could promise you that, even if it was only for a moment.

‘fuck it — yeah, yeah i promise.’ you laughed breathily running a hand through your hair.

‘god, i don’t think i can sleep after hearing that.’

‘trust me, i can’t either.’ he collapsed onto the lounge, immediately wincing and clutching his wounds on his sides. ‘we can stay up as long as you need.’ you leaned into him, careful not to anger his injuries as you placed a kiss on his temple.

‘you must be exhausted.’ you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. proving your statement correct he closed his eyes, seeking your embrace once more as his arms wrapped around you. he didn’t give a response — a verbal one, at least, but that was all you needed. closing your eyes, you got yourself comfortable as you kept a hand hovering over his bandages — if it was subconscious or not, you nad no idea — but in the moment i didn’t really matter.

‘night, harrington.’ you muttered, already feeling your consciousness slipping away. you knew that you were tired when you heard a clock ticking — your mind was already playing tricks on you before you even fell asleep. you received a mumble in response as his chest rumbled with his voice, coaxing you as your mind went fuzzy and your vision went dark.

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #steve x reader #steve harrington #YALL SEE THAT PLOT TWIST AT THE END LMFAOOO

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Some Kind of Stranger

Part 2: Woozy

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 1-Season 9 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mentions of sexuality, swearing ❧ Word Count: 5.6k

❧ Requested by @zasher

❧ Request: “reader is ricks daughter (18/19 during the outbreak) and secretly dating daryl, rick catches them eventually. (maybe smut? 🥴) I’m idea was kinda like a few short bits from when they first met and the gradual changes and how their relationship grows, which leads to the main part where reader a daryl are together in some way (cuddling? kissing? smashing?) and rick catches them, chaos ensues.”

❧ A/N: More build-up than I anticipated, but I have to make their relationship seem earned! Sorry no smut or overt sexuality in this part. It didn't feel right yet, but we're getting there! Honestly though, this gif has enough sexuality in it for this part to be considered smutty.

Somewhere along the line, you’d forgotten how many stars were in the sky, how many of them you could see when the world didn’t have its lights on all night. Now, no one could turn on any lights, so the night was so dark that even the dimmest stars came out to play, and twinkled against the backdrop of the black, velvety curtain of night.

At the Greene farm, it had always been that way, even before the turn. Only now, sitting with your knees hugged into your chest on that grassy plain beneath the late summer night sky, did you realize how much you had missed.

You grew up in a small town outside of Atlanta, but as soon as you could, you moved to the city to get away from your stepmother, Lori. That was a year ago, and you liked her more now that you’d matured a bit, but a part of you always wished your father had gotten back with your mother, though they met when they were very young, and had you by accident when they were just about your age.

So you left, and now you were here, the same kind of place you were trying to avoid when you left. You didn’t want quiet, you wanted noise, and you got that in Atlanta, but you weren’t in Atlanta anymore. Funny how that works.

“Hey,” your father’s voice called out to you quietly from behind. He had a nice voice, a soft voice, yet strong and rich. Nothing could replace the sound of your father’s voice, his laugh, his southern twang that made everything sound a little sweeter. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

You looked up at him as he stood next to you, his arms on his hips with that slight bend of his right knee. He had a very recognizable stance, always did. You smiled at him softly. “I know.”

Rick shook his head and huffed as he sat himself down next to you. You gave him a side-eye. “What are you doing?” you asked.

He stretched out one leg and bent the other, resting his arm on it and smirking at you as he spoke. “What, I can’t sit with my daughter? Ask her what’s on her mind?”

You shook your head and laughed. “I didn’t say that. I just… You haven’t really talked to me in a while, that’s all.”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve been busy, (Y/N). Tryin’ to keep this group together. Should be better… About payin’ attention to you and Carl.”

You scoffed a little to yourself as you thought about the baby Lori was going to have. You knew she was pregnant when you found the discarded test marked positive, but no one, not even Lori, knew that you knew. She seemed determined to keep it a secret, so you respected that enough, but you were worried.

“No, it’s fine,” you said. “I understand. There’s important stuff going on.”

“Nothing’s as important as you, peanut.” He raised his hand and moved some stray pieces of hair from your face. “You know, you’ll always be my baby.”

You rolled your eyes. “Dad,” you said, “why are you saying that?”

He shrugged. “‘Cause it’s true, and ‘cause you been actin’... different lately.”

You avoided his eye contact and crossed your arms over your knees, then leaned your chin over them.

“You hardly talk to anyone,” he continued, “and you keep goin’ out, doin’ things like this.” He gestured to the surrounding grasslands. “Why are you isolating yourself like this? Does this have something to do with Lori?”

Your eyes widened. “No!” you quickly said, then shook your head a little when you realized how loudly you proclaimed that word. “Uh, I mean, no, of course not. You know I’ve made my peace with Lori. That was childish of me, I like her now.”

“So it’s not that?”

“Not that,” you confirmed. “It’s nothing.”

Only you knew it wasn’t nothing, and Rick did, too. He didn’t know what it was, and you barely did either, but it certainly wasn’t nothing. “What is it then, (Y/N)?”

On a basic level, you did know what it was—Daryl.

It just seemed so pathetic, so ridiculous, so utterly unnecessary for you to be pining after him the way you were, but you couldn’t help it. Ever since that night at the CDC, you were much too embarrassed to even look his way, and yet you thought about him every single night, and maybe even more than that. He consumed you, that much was clear. Perhaps that had contributed to your split from the group—all you wanted was to be alone, away from Daryl, and away from anyone who might make fun of you for the way you thought of him.

The conversation went through your mind a thousand times:

He’s too old for you.

You could be his daughter, for crying out loud!

How can you even think about this when the dead roam the earth?

Besides, he doesn’t want you. You tried, and he didn’t budge. You’re pathetic.

You’re just a child, a dumb little child.

And they were right in your mind. The voices, they were keeping you from Daryl, and everyone else, for the last five days or so. Still, you thought it was your mind’s way of coping with its lovesickness, and that you’d heal from it soon, though the end didn’t seem anywhere near in sight.

“I just like being alone these days,” you said. “That’s all.”

“But why?”

The man was always so good at interrogating. Maybe that’s why he became a police officer, or maybe he became so good at it from years of doing it. It was the classic chicken or the egg scenario.

“I—I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

He leaned closer and wrapped his arm around you to pull you against his shoulder, where you sighed and laid your head. “It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to, I just worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you said. “I’m fine. I promise.”

That next morning, your father came to you again, walking up to you as you hung wet laundry on the clothesline in the middle of camp. He had a determined step and a recognizable look of action in his face. “Mornin’, Dad,” you said to him with a smile. “You’re looking chipper.”

He nodded. “Well, came to tell you that I got a job for you, something to keep you busy, and get you a little more involved in the search for Sophia.”

You sighed and looked down at your feet, then back up at your father as you scratched your cheek. “What is it?”

“You’re gonna work the search grid,” he said. “We’re pairin’ you up with Daryl.”

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment. “Wh-what? Why? I should go with you, or Shane, or Andrea, or T-Dog…” You stopped yourself before you named every able-bodied member of your group. “I mean, I don’t want to go with Daryl,” you said a little quieter now.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He’s just…” You tried to think of a believable excuse. “He’s intimidating.”

He scoffed. “Hey, he might be a little… blunt, but he’d keep you safe. Besides, it’s best for you to go with him. It’s me with Shane, and Andrea with T-Dog. Those are the groups that work best, and you and Daryl just happen to be the last two, unless you really wanna change it.”

You shook your head. “Isn’t there anything else I can do?”

“(Y/N),” he sighed, “this is important. I want you to be involved, and we need as many hands on deck as possible. I’m also hoping Daryl can teach you some useful skills out there. He’d be a hell of a lot better teacher than me.”

The inside of your mind was now flashing bright red and in a state of panic as you tried to reconcile your father’s wishes with your need to stay as far away from Daryl as possible, but there was no way to do so.

“O-okay,” you said after a while of deliberation. “I’ll do it.”

“Great,” he said. “I’ll go tell Daryl.”

You met him outside the woods, between the beginning of the trees and the Greene farm. You sat atop a tree stump, your rifle laying across your lap as you waited. He trudged forward with his characteristic sway, which was much stiffer than usual, though he was just as serious as always. He moved quickly at first, and then hesitantly as he got closer and closer, as if trying to delay his imminent arrival.

Even when he did stop, he stopped some several feet away from you, cleared his throat, and looked down at his feet. You had only spoken to him in sentences of one or two words since the CDC, and you had tried to avoid looking at him, too, so now you were once again finding yourself in that trap of darting your eyes across every square inch of his body.

Immediately you were drawn to his chest, where the strap of his crossbow stretched diagonally across the broad expanse of the brown plaid of his shirt, which was torn at the sleeves.

Oh, how you wished he had worn something long-sleeved. The arms… They were your weakness. Your eyes grew hazy just at the sight of them, the outline of his lean biceps and the slightly protruding veins trailing down his forearm, how much you just wanted to—

“Let’s go,” he said gruffly, brushing past you quickly with his head down. “Ain’t got all day.”

You swallowed hard, watching him begin to walk towards the forest.

Focus, you thought. And don’t you dare look at his ass.

You followed him into the woods, trying to keep up with his strides as he moved at an accelerated pace, almost as if he was trying to lose you.

“D-Daryl,” you finally said, tired of walking like this for ten minutes in complete silence and feeling like you weren’t welcome, “can we… stop for a minute? Or can you just… walk a little slower?”

You were completely out of breath, panting and sweating in the warm Georgia climate, but Daryl kept walking, his boots crushing dried leaves and sticks as you struggled to even match his stride.

“Daryl!”

“What?!” he yelled as he turned around and nearly knocked you over by suddenly stepping much closer to you. “What do ya want?!”

You stepped back and panted deeply. “Jesus,” you huffed. “I just want a break. I’m totally… out of… breath.” You leaned forward and rested your hands on your knees as you felt something suddenly rising up in your stomach. “Oh, God.”

The vomit poured out of you, all over your boots until there was nothing left. Luckily you hadn’t eaten much yet so it was mostly water, but you were mortified, a common occurrence lately.

Daryl stepped forward and leaned down a little to look at you, now a little concerned. “You all right?”

You raised your head to look at him, then quickly wiped your face and almost began to cry from embarrassment. If he didn’t already think you were pathetic, now he certainly did.

“Fine,” you said. “Just… It’s hot, and we were walking fast.”

He nodded and adjusted his crossbow across his chest, holding onto it with his hands. “Sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine.”

A series of awkward facial expressions led to Daryl lifting his crossbow off of him and setting it down. “Let’s take a break then,” he said. “Drink some water.”

You sat yourself down against a tree and pulled out your water bottle with a sigh. “Thanks.”

He nodded as he leaned himself against a nearby tree, folding his arms and biting his lip as he tried not to watch you drink, or the water trickling down your neck as you chugged it down.

He couldn’t help it, though. He had to look. He hadn’t allowed himself to look at you in days, but he thought about you, especially at night, and wondered what you were doing, who you were with, if you thought about him too…

Now he knew that you liked him, that you wanted him, as you had said, but it didn’t change the fact that he was not going to go anywhere near you. You were simply much too young, despite how much he looked at you and saw a grown, adult woman. No matter how much he knew you weren’t a child, he couldn’t remove himself from the idea that he was a grown adult when you were born, and that there was so much you had yet to understand about the world that separated you from him.

Still, there was that need, the desire to do something with you that even he didn’t have much experience with. The thoughts were almost oppressive, taking over his every waking moment, and distracting him from the job he had been tasked with: finding Sophia. That was what was most important, he didn’t have time to be lusting after a young woman. There was a child missing, and he was intent on finding her, even if it took all of his willpower to do so.

“Daryl,” you said after a while of silence, during which Daryl had been looking at his crossbow as he held it lazily in his hands, “could we talk about what happened?”

It was a bold move on your part, and certainly something you didn’t think you’d be able to ask of him, but that silence was unbearable, and sooner or later, you both knew you would have to talk about it, the fact that you admitted such an intimate thing to him. “I want you,” you had said, and those three words had been echoing in Daryl’s mind ever since, haunting him, tormenting him.

There was a woman there, in his world, who wanted him just as much as he wanted her, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit to her that he’d fall to pieces just to touch her.

He might’ve felt something akin to sadness, longing, desperation, but, as so often happened, he expressed everything in the language he was most familiar with: anger.

“Talk about what?” he asked, glowering down at you and speaking in that hissing tone you came to know as the precursor to a much… louder conversation.

You cleared your throat and looked down at your feet. “Well, about what I did at the CDC.”

He scoffed. “What you did? You mean comin’ onto me like that?” He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, so offended by what you’d done, since he really wasn’t. He was mostly confused, even in disbelief that you had done such a thing, but he wasn’t going to admit that so easily. You were about to respond, but he cut you off before you could get any words out, pushing himself off of the tree and approaching you with a hard step. “You got some nerve doin’ that. What the hell were you thinkin’?! Ya know, I’m twice as old as ya! Ain’t got no business with a girl like you.” He sounded much more like a disappointed father than he intended.

You stumbled a bit over your words before getting them out completely. “Uh, well, I—I… I was lonely.”

It was all you could muster, in that sad, mousy tone that you tried not to use with people like Daryl, people who seemed much stronger and more capable and confident than you, but you didn’t know the half of it. Daryl wasn’t as strong as you thought, or confident in any sense of the word. He was lashing out at you because he had no idea how to handle this situation, and rage was always the easiest emotion for him to express.

So that voice cut through him like a knife, made his shoulders sag and his uptight posture of his body threaten to melt into a puddle of useless matter. The small stutter of your voice nearly broke him, and he couldn’t bear to think that he’d hurt you. That was never his intention. If he had to hear anything in your voice, he would have much preferred it to be pleasure.

Then there were the very words you spoke. Lonely. Daryl could understand that. He was often lonely, too, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Lonely in the way you must’ve been as well—lonely in the sense that you needed someone to hold, and to hold you. It was an innate need, and he had it, though he only had it for you, and that’s one reason why he was so confused. He’d never felt this way before, let alone about someone so young and inexperienced, even if he was almost just as inexperienced.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I understand if you’re upset,” you continued. “So I’m sorry… I guess I… misread the situation.”

He lowered his head and scoffed, the only response he could seem to muster for a while, until the words came to him. “Ain’t gotta be sorry,” he said, much more calmly than he was before. “I know what you mean.”

You looked up at him curiously, fiddling with your water bottle in your hands nervously. “What?”

He shrugged, and looked around, anywhere but your direction. He bit his lip and kicked the dirt under his feet, and you watched his every move, intrigued and still so enchanted by the man. He really was more like an angel than a man, you thought. He wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever met, and that is what drew you to him.

“Know what it’s like… to be lonely.”

You smiled a little, happy to have found some common ground. If you couldn’t have Daryl the way you wanted him, you would be glad to at least have a friendship of sorts. It might’ve seemed impossible given what you had tried to initiate at the CDC, but you would be damned if you didn’t try. Beyond your sexual attraction to him, you genuinely liked him. He had barely talked to you, but from what you knew of him, he cared about your group, and tried hard every day to provide for you all. Even your father seemed to like him, and that, to you, was the mark of a good person. Besides, he was kind, and just seemed so down-to-earth. It was refreshing.

“You like being alone, don’t you?” you asked.

He finally looked your way, meeting your eyes, but quickly averting them again. He removed one hand from his crossbow to scratch his neck. “Guess so. Always kind of been on my own.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I like being alone, too, but sometimes you have to let people in, you know? It’s scary, but it’s usually worth it. I mean, I used to hate my stepmother, but now I like her. You just have to take chances on people.” You had no idea where you were going with this conversation. You were simply talking out of your ass at this point, saying any little thing that came to mind, but Daryl didn’t seem to care. He looked at you again, this time holding a more steady gaze, and biting the inside of his bottom lip as he gave you an attentive look. He was listening, really listening. You could just tell.

“I mean,” you continued with a self-dismissive shake of your head, “I have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Nah,” he said quickly. “I get it.”

A few beats of strangely comfortable silence flowed between you, standing on opposite ends of the small clearing in the forest. Only occasional birds chirping and toads ribbiting punctuated the quiet air.

“Well, I’m glad we cleared the air a little,” you said with a sigh of relief. It felt a little less awkward between you now, and that was going to help a lot with getting you to focus a little more on the task at hand: finding Sophia. “I promise I won’t put my naked body on display for you again,” you said with a nervous laugh, but Daryl quickly lowered his head, to disguise the fact that he was most likely blushing.

“Mhm,” he muttered. “Let’s, uh… let’s go.”

The rest of that day went rather uneventfully. You didn’t talk much to Daryl, as he did most of the talking, instructing you on what he was doing and letting you know the ins and outs of tracking. It was the most you’d ever heard him talk at once, presumably because he knew so much about the subject. It was nice, hearing him speak about something he was knowledgeable on. You listened intently, trying to pick up every little detail about what he was saying, and every idiosyncrasy in his dialect, which you gained an immense pleasure from listening to.

He spoke with a bravado that wasn’t characteristic of his usual voice, one that signified confidence and a vast knowledge of what he was talking about. You tried not to let the way he spoke get to you, but of course it did. Not only did it impress you, it gave you another thing to think about at night in your cot: how nice his voice sounded when he was sure of himself.

The search that day wasn’t a complete success, since no one found Sophia, but you and Daryl did stumble upon an abandoned house that showed signs of very recent inhabitance, which could have very well been the little girl you were looking for.

This sparked Daryl’s enthusiasm for the search more, and yours as well. That night, things seemed to be looking up a little more, and quickly escalated again when Daryl came back from a solo search the next day, with one of his own arrows in his side and the graze of a bullet on the side of his head (courtesy of Andrea, who mistook him for a walker as he stumbled out of the woods).

He’d had a harrowing day, and you couldn’t help but follow him nervously as your father and Shane dragged him into the Greene house. You weren’t allowed to spend too much time in the house, since Hershel thought it was bad enough to have one of you in there, but you did bring Daryl his food when you could, and slipped him a few books to read while he rested.

Seeing him bruised and battered… It chilled you to the bone. The man seemed so strong and unbreakable, but he looked much more fragile when you came into his room with a tray of food, him lying in that bed with a bandage around his head and a patch of gauze on his arrow wound, a dot of red blood in the center and sending you into a dizzy fit. You hated the sight of blood—a very unfortunate trait to have in the world you now lived in.

Standing in the doorway, Daryl must not have noticed you yet, since he was laying facing the other side of the room, with his bare torso completely exposed. You briefly saw the marks on his back, long and jagged ribbons of pink scar tissue. They looked much too old to be from that day’s accident, but they saddened you nonetheless.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, to which Daryl quickly tugged the blanket over him and flipped himself over as fast as he could given the state of him. You smiled a little at the man’s modesty. You had already seen him naked. Granted, he was drunk when you saw him naked, and he probably didn’t want to relive it, you assumed. “Brought you dinner.”

He grunted in acknowledgement, and flattened out an arrow of the bed with his hand so you could place the tray there. Carefully, you rounded the bed and placed it gently beside him. “There you go,” you said, in a much more high-pitched, saccharine tone than you had intended. You noticed how much your voice changed around him, almost instinctively. “Do you need anything else? Any more blankets, water, books… I can bring you something for dessert when you’re done. One of the Greene’s made a peach cobbler.”

Daryl mustered a weak smile, one that wormed its way into your subconscious, where you kept other mementos of your interactions with Daryl. “Nah, s’fine. Thanks.”

You nodded. “You’re welcome… I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He bit his lip. “Why? Been nothin’ but an asshole to ya.” He pulled the tray closer and picked up his fork.

“You haven’t been an asshole,” you said. “I like you, Daryl. I told you. That’s not going to change, unless you want it to.”

He turned his potatoes over with his fork repeatedly, looking at them intently. “Someone’s gotta like me,” he said. “Might as well be you.”

You smiled. “Good.”

That next day, you spotted Daryl fully dressed and heading off to the stables where the Greene’s kept their horses. You knew he was up to something. For one thing, he was supposed to be in bed in the house, resting. Aside from that, he had taken a horse (without permission) from the stable yesterday, and that was how he’d gotten injured in the first place. It worried you, so you handed the squirrel you were skinning to Lori, dusted yourself off, and jogged after Daryl. The guy was stubborn, and you weren’t about ready to let him get himself hurt again, or rip up his stitches by straddling a horse he didn’t know how to ride.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked him sternly with your arms crossed as you entered the stable. He was saddling up one of the horses, and ignoring you. You inched closer and began breathing heavily, irritated by his ignorance. “You’re supposed to be in bed. Don’t you remember you fell on an arrow yesterday? Doesn’t that ring any bells?”

He kept his back turned to you. “‘M fine,” he mumbled. “Go back with the others.”

You scoffed. “What, and let you mess up your stitches? No way. Hershel said he wants you to rest. You could have already done some damage just from getting up. You should let me look at those stitches.”

He turned around swiftly, and gave you quite the penetrative death glare. “Said ‘m fine, girl.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said. “It’s demeaning.” You looked down to his waist where the wound was to see his bandage was bleeding through the shirt, causing a small puddle of blood to form there, and a spell of dizziness to overcome you, as well as a heap of worry. “Jesus, Daryl! I told you you’d rip it! Let me see that.”

He pushed your hand away when you tried to lift his shirt. “Leave me be!” he said. “Don’t need ya touchin’ me.”

“I… I’m just worried about you. You’re bleeding.” You stumbled forward a little as you became more lightheaded, seeing the blotch of crimson expand more and more with each moment he stood in front of you. “Let’s get you to Hershel. He needs to fix those.”

He shook his head. “Told ya I’m fine.” He moved forward to get away from you, but you stepped in front of him and pushed your hands against his chest.

“Stop,” you said, and he looked at your face curiously as it seemed to be losing its color, becoming much paler than your usual skin tone. “Y-you need to sit down.” You swallowed hard and your vision became blurry, then you nearly fell forward onto Daryl until he caught you.

“Shit!” he yelped. “You okay?”

You palmed your forehead as Daryl held you by your upper arms. If you weren’t so lightheaded, you might’ve been losing your breath from how close he was to you, and how he was his hands so tightly gripping your arms.

“Fine,” you said. “I’m just not good with blood. You’re the one who needs…” You stumbled a little again, and Daryl quickly moved to sit you down on a bench just a handful of feet away.

“Sit down,” he said.

You looked at him sternly. “Only if you sit down too.”

He huffed, and nodded as he sat the both of you down next to each other. “Walkers must really freak you out then,” he said.

You laughed, still holding your head in your hands. “Uh, yeah. I’m trying, though. I’ve always passed out at stuff like that.”

“You didn’t pass out this time,” he pointed out.

You smiled at him. “Well, maybe it’s because you were here.”

His cheeks flushed and suddenly he realized how close he was to you, though he couldn’t bring himself to move, not unlike how he felt that night he saw your naked body. Now, he was simply entranced by your beauty, in your hazy, dreamy state. He’d never known anyone he’d wanted this much, maybe even at all, and yet it just so happened to be you.

So when he did it, he didn’t realize what he was doing, as it wasn’t really in the forefront of his brain. Rather, it was somewhere in the more primitive parts of his mind, which imparted to him that he needed to do what he did next in order to even survive. Of course, the affection he had for you was there, but in that moment, he wanted only one thing. He needed only one thing.

When you felt his lips on yours, and his arms entangling around your waist so tightly, you could only look over his shoulder with wide eyes, and a stiffness came over you that quickly melted under the pressure of his tight grasp. You slowly raised your hands to push against his strong, wide back, drawing him even closer to you.

His lips were at first two soft, buttery flower petals tenderly massaging yours, but gradually became more frantic with each moment his skin smacked against yours. He raised his hands to cup your cheeks and entangled his fingertips into your hair by your ears, causing you to let out a small groan into his mouth. It only spurred him on, and he began to feel the familiar strain in his jeans, where he had touched himself to the thought of your lips so many times, the same lips he now had in his grasp, that were so pliant and obedient for him.

You hardly even moved, simply letting him take over and do whatever he wanted to you, because that was all you could do. You knew nothing about kissing, or what men liked when they were kissed. You had only ever exchanged pecks with the one boy you shared a romance with, and they were nowhere near as passionate as this.

It seemed odd to you, since Daryl had ostensibly made it clear he wasn’t interested in you the way you were, but the fact that he was kissing you, rather amorously, in fact, proved otherwise. So in this moment of rapture, one of the gestures you had wanted from him so desperately, you were confused, though above all, you were in the company of angels.

Still, he felt his groin throb and push against his jeans, and as he continued devouring your lips, getting dangerously close to pushing your mouth open and lapping up your sweet saliva, he knew he was on the brink of losing all control.

He very suddenly pulled his lips from yours and shot up from the bench, looking down at your raw, reddened lips and your softly closed eyes. For a moment he hoped he was invisible, that even if you did open your innocent, gently twitching eyes, you still wouldn’t be able to see him, but they did flutter open slowly, and you looked at him with a look of utter confusion that nearly broke him. He couldn’t believe what he had done, how he could take advantage of you, such a young girl. Most of all, he couldn’t believe he could let himself go like that. He’d never once felt so out of control, out of his wits, out of his mind.

“Daryl,” you breathed quietly, not knowing what else to say but his sweet, unassuming name that fit him so perfectly.

He stepped backwards before turning around and beginning to walk away at an increasingly fast pace. You furrowed your brow and felt your heart sink, more like an anchor than an organ.

“Daryl!” you cried in all your confusion and heartbreak as you stood to watch him leave.

You couldn’t go after him, as your legs refused to move. All you wanted in that moment was for him to hold you, to return to you and kiss you once again, since it was the sweetest feeling you’d ever known.

In his kiss, there was passion and the urge to have you, but not the pressure to make you feel compelled or out of your comfort zone. In fact, it had felt right, like something you’d always needed but didn’t know existed. You needed more, and the fact that he had run away from you like that, it hurt you so much it turned your stomach and blurred your vision as tears began to fall, incessantly and without warning.

You had cried much more for one man than you had cried for anything else in your life, and you hated it. You hated how much you wanted him, and how much it seemed to overtake you, but most of all, you hated that he didn’t want you.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Part 3 ➳

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@browneyes528 | @darylgf | @fuseburner

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for this series! I do different taglists for each one so if you're on a taglist for another series I might not have you down for this one, yet...

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader #theteasetwrites fanfiction #theteasetwrites series #some kind of stranger series #some kind of stranger

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folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

French Class [6]

A/N: You guys might want to whack out your love song playlist for this one…I cried writing this BYE I'm posting this from my grave!!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, ANGST, smut

words: ~ 3.8 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @yeostars, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek

You: can I come over? I kind of need u

H/N: you need me huh…you’re lucky I’m home alone

It always starts differently. Some other question, or a subtle message of telling him you’re bored, or a flat-out confession of being horny. The ending is always the same. You, naked in his bed. You just had to get there, and things were easy when you were already on his dorm’s doorstep.

The moment he had opened the door, you had fistfuls of his hair between your fingers and attacked his mouth in a feverish kiss. He made a noise between a laugh and surprise but reacted quickly. His lips parted right away, letting you in, and you tasted mint from the chewing gum he liked so much.

“Let me- at least- close the door,” he mumbled. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you today?”

You stepped aside and mirrored his grin. He was acting surprised, but the way he instantly locked your lips after he had shut the door told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. You ran your hands down his torso and along the side of his thighs. His happy hum only poured oil into the fire, and you saw no reason as to why you should have kept your clothes on any longer. In minutes, in the middle of heated kisses and clumsy chuckles, your clothes were discarded, and you were left in your underwear. You stumbled into his bedroom in a tangle of arms and legs and heads barely pulling apart.

“Will you tell me about the date you had today or are we skipping over that part?” he asked, as he pushed you down by the shoulders onto his bed. You groaned a little, not even knowing where to start.

“Didn’t go well, huh?” he asked. Only a few nights ago you had consoled him after his failed date, now the roles were reversed.

“That’s one way to put it,” you said. He was climbing on top of you now, and the weight of him between your thighs still did the same things to you it had done the first time. There was one of his random playlists playing quietly from the speakers, but you were both too occupied to even consider switching the music off. You weren’t in the mood for a chat, not when he was biting and sucking bruises into your chest, pushing aside your bra just enough. But you knew he wasn’t going to let it go this easily.

“Tell me about it or I won’t take one more piece of clothing off your body,” he threatened. You shot him an are-you-serious-look while he only blinked at you innocently, like he was awaiting your response.

“Fine,” you groaned. “But hurry, now.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, before unclasping your bra and throwing it to the other side of the room. “Go ahead, I expect a story.”

You had rolled your eyes at him, but when he sucked on your nipple all of a sudden, and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud ever so perfectly, your eyes moved to the back of your head involuntarily. And, before he could complain, you started to retell today’s events.

“Alright. First of all, he acted all gentleman-y. Pulling back my chair at the restaurant, letting me have a look at the menu first, letting me order first, asking me if I was okay with our seats because they were in the sunshine, or whether he should have requested we get a different in the shade table, blah, blah, blah.”

With the lewd noises he was making, kissing your chest and fumbling with your breasts, you almost wondered whether he was paying attention to you at all.

“I’m waiting for the plot twist,” he chuckled. “If he had been this great, you wouldn’t be in my bed right now, would you?” He was now on his way to your lower regions. Your breaths came out shaky when he gripped your hips with familiar fingertips and placed a few kisses there, right above the material of your underwear. Nonetheless, you had to continue your story.

“Oh, it’s coming,” you said. “Because I suspect, the only reason he was acting that way was to compensate. For the fact that he was an hour late.”

He stifled a laugh, and you slapped his head playfully. “It’s not funny! I stood outside that restaurant on a busy street like an idiot for an hour. During exam season!”

“I wonder, if studying is so special to you- ,” he said. He tugged on your underwear, and you barely cared about his words when you were already imagining his mouth on your pussy. “Why aren’t you at home right now, doing just that?”

“Too frustrated,” you groaned, spreading your legs, practically inviting him in. “You don’t get it. That was only the beginning of the date. It gets worse.”

“Oh, damn,” he laughed, and you were going to slap him again. Harder, this time. But his tongue kitten-licked over your clit and you didn’t dare interrupt him further.

“First of all, he turned out to be boring. An economics major. And look, I’m not generalizing, I’ve met some cool economics majors. But when I said I never really understood the whole thing with inflation and deflation, I wasn’t asking for him to explain it to me. I know what it means, I just meant to say money is the root of all evil,” you said, little moans slipping inbetween your sentences. He laughed whilst sipping on your clit. You couldn’t be mad at his laughing anymore. In fact, at the sound of his chuckles, your own lips curled into a smile, too. God, he was so good with his tongue.

“But turns out he loved money. Like it was the sole reason he was doing anything. When he showed me his gold watch I almost yawned,” you continued.

“Dating a rich guy can have its upsides too, though,” he said, but you knew he was joking. He was running the tips of his fingers over your core, and you whimpered at how badly you wanted him to put them inside of you. You loved watching him, loved feeling his hair tickle the side of your thighs and having his free hand laying on top of your hipbone. The familiarity of it all, his little habits, made your heart heavy, so full of emotion, all of a sudden. But you had to snap out of it.

“Not this guy. He kept saying these lowkey sexist things I won’t repeat now. It’ll only make me mad again. He was one of those who thought money would buy him a girlfriend. And I was really trying to see the good in him…only there was none,” you said.

“Alright, I’m starting to understand why you needed some cheering up,” he said. “Good thing you’re at the right place. I know just the thing.”

At this, he slid his digits into you. You hummed and dropped your head into the plush pillow. Slowly, you exhaled, happy you finally got to relax after being so upset. But of course, he had to interrupt. Again.

“Did I say you could stop? Was that the end of the story?” he said. How did he expect you to form a coherent sentence? He fingered you gently, but the slowness of it all only drove you crazier. You felt every tiny sensation, every new bit of you he touched.

“No,” you sulked. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Go on, then,” he encouraged you, grinning because he was proud of your reaction he had caused.

“Fuck- okay. He was super shitty to the waiter. I’m talking about criticizing everything. This man had the audacity to complain about the food. I’m not a food critic, but I swear the food was amazing, there was nothing to fault at all,” you said, and then whined when he switched from licking your clit to sucking it between his teeth. You knew he was doing this on purpose. To make speaking harder for you.

“Oh my god, H/N. Wait, let me finish this. Not only was he horrible to the waiter in person, but he also made fun of the waiter’s appearance behind his back. And all along he expected me to find him funny. I used to think he had a sense of humor but not after today. Blech.”

“At least you got a free dinner?” he said, and without awaiting your answer, went back to work. Your head was spinning in pleasure, and you could only laugh sarcastically at his suggestion.

“Yeah. And after that train wreck of a date, he really thought he’d get to stick his tongue down my throat,” you said.

“Did he at least ask permission?” asked the boy between your legs.

“Mhm…but I told him I don’t do that on the first date,” you said. “Safe to say there won’t be another date, though.”

He looked up now, laughing more than before. You grinned, mainly because the sight of him was so cute. He folded his hands on your belly and put his face down onto your skin to giggle. In no way could you be upset or urge him to keep giving you head. In fact, you had forgotten about all of that for a while, as he seemed to enjoy your misfortune a little too wildly. You should have been hungry, eager to have the half-naked boy inside of you. Yet, you laughed at the way his breaths tickled your stomach and when he finally made eye contact, it was a wholly different sort of hunger which overcame you. Instead of the heat he usually made you feel, it was a comfortable warmth that was in your chest. It reminded you of a bonfire or of drinking your favorite hot drink on a cool autumn day.

“I want to watch you come,” he said, casually. “Were you close?”

You were so lost in his trustworthy, dreamy eyes, you almost forgot to reply. Quickly, you nodded and hummed.

“I would have already come, had you not pestered me to tell you all the details of my date,” you said. The way his cheeks beamed when he smiled made you feel as if your insides were turning into mush.

“I’m sorry. I’m your friend, aren’t I allowed to ask how your day went?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” you said. The word ‘friend’ echoed off every wall in your head until you wished you could have deleted it from the dictionary.

“I’ll make sure it feels extra good now,” he said, kissing your stomach. You shivered as you watched his gentle lips move lower, to your hips and the insides of your thighs. The touch felt like butterfly wings on your skin, and the tardiness of it made you impatient. When his tongue came in contact with your clit again, you sucked in a breath of surprise.

He tried to start slowly, but then you gripped his hair tightly, and carefully pushed him further. It was something you did often, a way to tell him you wanted more without having to use words. After all this time, he understood perfectly. Your clit was between his lips and his tongue flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves with just the right amount of pleasure. It felt incredible, creating a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach. His fingers grazed over your slit until you were whimpering and shifting your hips, trying to make him hurry.

One of his digits slid into you easily, curling against your sweet spot, and it hit you only now how much you had missed him between your legs since he had stopped a few minutes ago. It made you feel as though you were suddenly overwhelmed with all of him, but you were willing to let the heat crash over you if it meant you could be close to him.

“Am I making it up to you now?” he asked as he pulled away merely for a breath. “I’ll turn your day into a good one after all.”

In a different tone his words would have sounded like the exact thing one would have expected to hear from a fuckboy in the bedroom. He could have boasted and bragged endlessly about how great he was with his tongue and fingers – he would have been right – but he didn’t mean it like that. You could tell from the uprightness and the authenticity in his voice that he really was doing his best because he wanted to make you feel better and turn your day around. Because you were special to him. Or so you desperately hoped.

Your legs wrapped around his shoulders as if you were trapping him between your thighs. But he was right there, and he would gladly stay for so much longer, and to say it puzzled you was an understatement. The boy who belonged to everybody, who was known by all of the campus, was treating you like you were royalty, and not the other way around. You moaned, his name inevitably falling from your lips. He added another finger and the slightest stretch made you lose your mind for a split second.

“That guy could have never made you feel this good, could he?” he suddenly asked. Your initial response was a helpless whine. You had been so close, and his talking had interrupted the otherworldly bliss for a moment.

“No, never,” you then whimpered shortly. ‘No’ was such a tiny word. It could barely encapsule what you truly meant to say. Which was that it would have never even gotten that far. That other guys couldn’t even have you at all. They didn’t get their turn to try and beat him. Not as of lately, at least. That you didn’t so much as dare to think about sleeping with other guys. That even before you had gone on the date, you had known it wouldn’t lead to anything. No guy could let you develop an interest on him in the same way the boy between your legs had done it. No other would be able to kidnap your brain like that. H/N was always there. Even when it was only you and your sex toys, you would automatically pretend it was him getting you off. You were so far gone that it was embarrassing how long it had taken you to admit it to yourself. But it was a colossal thing to confess to him, and you would never do that. Rejection would hurt a billion times more than whatever it was you two had now.

Your heart was racing as you closed your eyes. You had been so lost in thought, it was wondrous you hadn’t fallen yet. But you were right on the edge, making your breaths come out like puffs and a string of moans and swears sound from your lips. He too had stopped talking, concentrating on the task at hand, and judging by the way your back arched he was doing one hell of a good job.

“Oh my god- “ you whimpered. “I’m so close, H/N.”

This time he didn’t reply, which was for the best. Only a few seconds passed until you started to quiver and whine beneath him. You were going to outer space behind your eyelids as your high rushed through you. Your fingers curled and tightened in his locks while your legs clenched around his head. He was quick to pull your thighs apart again, still not being finished. For long seconds you swam in pleasure, with nothing on your mind but bursting stars. He was heaven, knowing precisely how far he could take it until you were too sensitive to take any more.

When you were at that point, he finally pulled away and looked up at your crumpled form. There was a lazy smile playing in the corner of your lips and your vision was hazy after having had your eyes closed for a while. He climbed up your body until his chest was against yours so he could really look at you.

“I get all of this without ever having been on a single date with you? I’m so lucky,” he said. You only smiled at him, at a loss for words. What were you to say? The two of you were clearly past the awkward dating stage already.

“I’m lucky you let me come over all the time,” you said. “I would have expected the campus fuckboy to be busier. To not have an empty spot in his bed every night.”

“Ah, shut up,” he said. “I’d rather have you here than a girl I don’t know at all. Look, I’m really tired so I don’t know how this will go…but can I?” He was on his knees, a tent visible in his boxers. With a questioning look, he was tugging them down his legs now.

“Of course,” you said. As you watched him roll on a condom, your ears perked up. Did that song have to come on shuffle just now? The coziest, most romantic love song you adored so much? You knew if you looked him in the eyes you’d be done for. But there wasn’t anywhere else to look when he settled between your legs and held up his weight with his forearms. His eyes were deep enough for you to get lost within a second. Distracting yourself was impossible. The one last thing you could do was to reach between the two of you and guide his length into you.

The song’s chorus came on, you looked at him once again, and suddenly you were all his. You didn’t need to tell him so. He thrust gently, almost carefully, like he had never done it with you. Your heart hammered against your ribcage so vivaciously, you wondered whether it had turned autonomous and was now trying to jump out of your body, onto his skin and through it, so it could nestle next to his own heart.

Neither of you spoke. Yet, there had never been so much chemistry, such a heavy amount of uncommunicated emotions between the two of you. You were ready to hang on his every word, should he decide to speak up. In your head rampaged a billion sentiments you needed him to know, but there was no option to express them adequately. Perhaps there were simply no words in the English language to declare your feelings for him.

Small whimpers and moans left your lips only for him to hear. Sometimes he moved a little quicker, gifting you with the most perfect sounds he could make. And to know you were the cause for it sent you into overdrive. His mouth was right above yours. If you lifted your head slightly, you could have kissed his sweet, sweet lips. But you were so afraid. What would he think? You had never kissed him during sex. Not softly, like you wanted it so terribly.

Even worse, you craved so much more than that. You wanted to pull him in, envelope his mouth in your own, crawl over the edge of his lips and reside in his chest for safety. Because that’s what he was. Comfort. Reassurance. Home. How foolish you had been, pretending this little fling would lead to nothing more. You really had told yourself this would work. No feelings. Just fun. You couldn’t deny having fun with him. He was the best company you had ever known, and he had become your most precious friend quickly. It was as if you had only been waiting for the silly, flirty boy to sit across from you in the library and make weak advances towards you.

The love song tuned out slowly, replaced by something more sensual and sinful. In accordance with the new background noise, he gripped your hips a little meaner and went faster. You barely noticed how his breathing had sped up as he was getting closer to his orgasm. A trance had overcome you, transfixing you on his godlike features and how much it hurt to know you couldn’t call him yours. In your head you were made for each other. They always said to date your best friend, didn’t they? You could try to turn back time, go back to your first meeting place, at the party. See if things would turn out different. But you knew they wouldn’t. As much as your fear tried to suppress it – you would take the same path again, stumbling head-first into his arms and letting him into your life like a crashing wave of laughter and heart-crushing conversations.

Now you reflected in despair, how he had taken your heart in a storm, without having to try too hard. And worst of all, you were okay with it. Your heart was secure with him, you thought. The feelings yearned to be spoken out loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“You feel so good,” he said. “Always, so fucking good.”

He snapped his hips against yours, burying his cock deep inside of you and all you could muster was a hum of agreement. This is what you got for keeping him at arms-length from the beginning. Wasn’t it you who had challenged him to be friends and only that? Perhaps you would be okay, so long as no one else called him theirs either. You could go on like this, letting him use you for sexual relief and making him laugh when he needed it. Gladly, you would take the pain of not being allowed to love him with your whole being if it meant you could see him whenever you wanted. Exposing those silly emotions would wreck your friendship and you wouldn’t let it happen.

He grunted and only then, when he lowered his head into the crook of your neck and moaned your name, you realized he was reaching his high. Softly, you cradled his head in your hands, as if it was the last time you could hold him like this. When he put his forehead against yours, he had his eyes closed and his chest was moving steadier than before.

“You’re the best,” he whispered. “Stay the night?”

Should you have gone home, and missed him all night? Would you have regretted saying no while you curled up in bed with no Cheshire-cat-grin-boy to hold? Or were you to remain in his bed, and pray you would survive the torture of not speaking your mind? His skin radiated the most wonderful warmth and you wanted to trace his lips with your eyes until you fell asleep. That’s how quickly it was decided.

“Okay,” you answered.

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sepublic · 2 years

Text

Edge of the World

WHAT WHAT WHAT

King is a Baby Titan??!?! Confirmed??!!? Since Season 1A I’ve speculated about a connection, King as THE Titan or its child… We were right! It wasn’t for anything!

Oh my god… All those people we saw, they’re just regular witches! Dressed like that which they plan to kill… DRESSED AS TITAN BABIES TO LURE THEM IN! And DAMN what kind of monsters are, or WERE these clans, to have KILLED actual Titans?! And why does our Titan look so humanoid, are they just deformed? Does it have to do with having magic, are they the only one without magic?

Likewise, we see that the Titan Trappers are witches, the ‘human’ variety… So I guess witches (human) precede our Titan in terms of evolution??? So where did they come from, did Titans actually EAT things? Or did the Collector, or ‘Grand Huntsman’, if he goes by different titles… Does he hunt and kill and ‘collect’ creatures just for fun??? And he’s tricked people, time and time again, into hunting and killing Titans for his own amusement, or for power??!

Bill said that if King was sacrificed, it’d release the Collector… So he’s probably in the in-between realm, since Bill ALSO had a disk like Belos! But how… Did the last Titan do this to him? Is he trapped IN the Titan and these disks are just conduits for his powers? Did demons evolve from Titans, and witches are their own ancestral lineage? What happened to the other lands, or were they there?

Bill was reading a book by Flora (whose surname spelling has apparently been corrected), is he fact-checking? Did the Collector abandon the Titan-Trappers because he thought them useless? Bill says he’s OLDER than Belos’ reign, how old??? Can the Collector bestow immortality, is the Collector using Belos to free him? Does Belos know? Does he care; If the Collector wants to kill everything, then it’s possible they legit have a mutual alliance!

Did the Collector give magic to the BI Titan and that’s why it had it, if it was the only one? And why it looks more humanoid, does the magic of bile sacs cause demons to change into this more humanoid look? And King…

KING MY BABEY! That dream was so funny but also so painful… He just wanted to have a family, he KNOWS Luz is leaving and he can’t do anything to stop her, which is some nice continuity on his arc from Really Small Problems; So all he can do is prepare for when she leaves! I love how the show gives credit to his actual emotions, King is more than just the funny animal sidekick and more than just the plot device, his feelings and who he is as a person MATTERS first and foremost!

And Eda… GOD, Eda seemed so weirdly calm and straightforward when Luz told her, and I can see why! She was trying so HARD to keep herself together for these kids, and I adore how she acknowledges that they’re KIDS and shouldn’t have to handle this stuff! That’s wrong! And how Lilith comforts her, finally, Lilith comforting Eda as an older sister she can count on, after so LONG…!

I’m surprised King wasn’t mad at Hooty, but maybe he didn’t realize just HOW long ago this letter was; Like he thought it was something Hooty just ate this morning or something. Plus with all of what we have… Oof. It’s a lot to balance. The Collector’s rhyme was also different in Luz’s memory… But YEAH, I love how Luz quickly puts it together that the Collector is the Grand Huntsman! After being duped by Philip/Belos, she’s already gotten more wary and showing a closer eye and awareness to this! And also damn… A lot of past characters really did mess around with a baby Titan and didn’t even know it, huh??? That’s so funny.

Oh… OH GOD, KING MUST REALIZE OUR TITAN IS HIS DAD. But what about the one who killed the BI Titan? Was he manipulated by the Collector, only to reveal the truth? It’s mentioned only the power of a Titan can hatch the egg, and we see moonlight and I guess some form of glyphs involved… So all Titans have magic? Did the Titan Trapper (the one who killed our Titan) have a conscience? Is he like Wittebro? A parallel yet foil to Belos, as someone who was duped by the Collector, but realized it was wrong? Or mostly Wittebro… Yeah.

GOD that reveal that they weren’t actually the same species but just wearing disguises. That’s so creepy and uncanny. I kinda love it but WOW… And Salty! SALTY MY BELOVED! He returns as I hoped and as a pal to Luz and King (and Hooty), even making them breakfast! I love him, Dana said she was so stoked to meet Steve Blum when casting Salty, I can see her bias for him now! Did they tell Salty? Also, like the acknowledgement of how he no longer works for Hunter… Esp since Hunter’s been fired. I’m surprised Luz didn’t mention him, but I can chalk that up to the show having to wrap things up ASAP, Labyrinth Runners might discuss this though.

Kikimora seems in charge now…. AND GOD WE WERE RIGHT; Belos knows that Luz did the time loop now. He no longer has to let her live for that; HE CAN KILL HER. And Lilith too…! THAT CLIFFHANGER AUGH, what a callback to Agony of a Witch! But now Lily is defending… Will she learn Raven mode to fight back? Will our sisters be kidnapped… Hooty isn’t THERE yet! And the Titan Trapper who killed the BI Titan, he has magic like Jean-Luc… So did he also learn from the Collector, as Philip did?

What happened to him? Why didn’t he tell anyone? Did he die before he could? Jean-Luc took care of King, maybe it was just to keep him alive to sacrifice for the Collector… ALSO DAMN COLLECTOR, it seems like you didn’t tell Belos about your previous allies! If you did, he’d have probably identified King and released you ASAP… So is he planning to revive OUR Titan, just so he can kill it as a sacrifice for the Collector?! Damn… getting FMA parallels again, with the Collector going from place to place, tricking nations into repeating the same folly and ritual, for power!

We know the Titan Trappers have access to the isles, do they just not know Belos works for their Grand Huntsman? Did the Collector not bother to tell them, ‘bored’ of them like discarded toys who have served their purpose? Did they recognize Belos’ claims of speaking for the Titan as false? Since Bill has one of Flora’s books and Tarak even has a Penstagram account… I guess it was a good thing Hooty ate the letter; Otherwise Luz wouldn’t have made that connection to the Collector! WHEW!

There’s just so much lore… So much to wrap up. We now know that all the Titans have been hunted down, save one last one… God what does this mean for King??? Is he gonna outlive EVERYONE??? Oh god… No… Like how he said he KNOWS they’re gonna leave him, so all he can do is prepare! Maybe he can have a proper speaker for himself in Luz but… OH GAWD NO!!! You… You can’t DO this to me Dana! You can’t! YOU CAN’T!

Oh fuck… And since they know; What if there’s conflict?!? What if the rebels (Raine, Darius, Eberwolf) ponder using King??! I don’t think Raine would but then again, if push comes to shove… Because if Belos is going to kill everyone to revive a Titan and use it as a sacrifice; Wouldn’t sacrificing King save so many more lives? And preserve the isles? The Collector is freed either way, but offering King to the Collector, to convince him to forsake Belos’ plan… It could save most of everyone!

Oh man. If there would’ve been an arc of the Bad Girl Coven clashing with Raine’s group over what to do with King… Let him be used to take the burden of everyone else’s death and play it safe; Or believe they can stop Belos AND keep King alive! Oh god oh man… Oh TITAN! And in two episodes, King faces the implications of being a Titan…

(Damn Belos you really had all you needed to free the Collector in YBOS. Or did he know, and that’s why he let King go; Because with King, his plan that involves killing all witches is redundant? And the Collector will be pissed when he finds out Belos kept him from that???)

And now the EC is cracking down on everyone… Including Hexside. But we still got Steve… Or will Steve be in O Titan, where are Thou, since he’s at the knee? And King is going to the knee to speak with the Titan, and Steve allies with and helps him? NICE! King as the true speaker for the Titan…!

#the owl house #king clawthorne #the owl house bill #the owl house tarak #the owl house collector #emperor belos #philip wittebane #eda clawthorne #edaly clawthorne #the owl house salty #speculation #theory #analysis

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

I Bought A Ring (e.b.)

Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you.

AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!

there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good

You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test.

After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together.

He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep.

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment.

You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious.

“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained.

Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship.

“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly.

You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished.

Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby.

“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked.

Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw.

“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said.

“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop.

“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house.

You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people.

After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open.

When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered.

Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained.

Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him.

After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long.

Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him.

Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to.

“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers.

“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted.

“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained.

The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said.

“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered.

Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call.

They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down.

The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light.

“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife.

Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them.

Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding.

Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt.

“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked.

You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped.

Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side.

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him.

Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.

Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance.

Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you.

Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight?

Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway.

It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse.

“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained.

Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him.

He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose.

Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you.

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery.

Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added.

“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.

Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.

“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.

Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said.

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied.

The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #911 lone star #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley oneshot #oliver stark

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