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winterarmyy · 3 months

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Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point). And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind.

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again.

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn. Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling." He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done, she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice, he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face, "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper. "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly. She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky fluff #avenger!bucky #bucky x reader smut

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callmearcturus · 10 months

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a bunch of Mission Impossible fic recs

hi, i'm sorry for conning so many people into this fandom. here's some reading material.

Easy Open, by helenish

“So you and Hunt are a package deal these days,” Bryson says. “Uh,” Benji says, jerking his head up from his computer, ballpoint in his mouth.

Ethan/Benji. Definitely the first thing you should read after watching the movies. This is my favorite kind of one-shot, the kind that manages to convey the weight of history like a 60k fic in such a compressed space. When I talk about using sex scenes to convey something about the characters, perfect example is the set dressing around the one here where the title drop happens. Way to say so fucking much about the characters through sheer implication.

in the details, by helenish

Ethan: We have an even bigger problem. Ilsa. Benji: Ilsa. Our Ilsa? —Mission: Impossible — Fallout (Paramount Pictures, 2018)

Ethan/Benji/Ilsa. This one is so fucking dense and amazing. I love the way Ethan is just so fucking in love with both of these people and keeps imagining them fucking and feels terrible about it, you just want Benji and Ilsa to put Ethan out of his misery, but ALSO this is hardcore physicality porn. The scene with Ilsa on Benji's shoulders is better than any sex scene I've read this year.

I'm With You, by fictionallemons

Luther's getting married again at a private resort on a tropical island. Only there's a mixup with the rooms and Benji and Ethan have to share. No big deal, right? One bed. Two friends. No problem. Ha.

Ethan/Benji. I keep rereading this one because it just has such intense longing and familiarity in it. The way it portrays Ethan and Benji as a unit, a foregone conclusion even they themselves haven't quite figured that out, is perfect. Also I love the way Ethan handles the bed situation, the low grade annoyance he has at the repeated question. Benji, get a clue, my man.

Someone New, by fictionallemons

After Fallout, Benji thinks Ethan and Ilsa are together and he only wants to be happy for them, even it kills him to see Ethan with someone else. He's got to try to get over Ethan. But some things are just impossible. Mutual jealousy, mutual pining, cute texting, and a happy ending, of course.

Ethan/Benji. LOOK, THE WAY TO MY HEART IS ETHAN BEING JEALOUS AND NOT HANDLING IT WELL. Also the fact this fic acknowledges Ethan's emotional growth from Fallout, chef's kiss. But really the moment when Ilsa's like "Seems we missed the show" and Ethan says "I wish we had" ETHAN OH MY GOD. Also the subtle way Benji is needling Ethan a little, subconsciously at least-- it's good!

it takes a lot (to know a man), by thistableforone

"So I just… want to remind myself that we're alright." He says it like that, with a general we that sounds more like a specific you. And because Ethan does know what it feels like, he doesn't question him any further. If Benji needs to spend time with him to feel better, he won't deny him. Takes place after Fallout. Ethan is recovering and Benji goes to live with him to help

Ethan/Benji. A longer one, hell yeah. This one truly wallows in the aftermath of Fallout, which is where my brain lives 90% of the time, so I appreciate it. Also Ilsa pointing out why the fuck did Luther give her that speech but not Benji-- finally someone said it. But really this fic is about Benji and it breaks my heart.

magnetic field being a little too strong, by oopshidaisy

“This is strictly recon,” Ethan says. It’s maybe the seventeenth time he’s said words to this effect since they arrived at the party. “We can’t do anything that’ll raise suspicion. Understand?” Post-Rogue Nation. Benji and Ethan go undercover and find themselves in one of those spy jams that only surprise kissing can solve.

Ethan/Benji. This is the one with the INCREDIBLE passage about Benji realizing why Ethan's never been slapped for pulling the fake kissing thing on missions. Also I love how... this feels like a date. To Ethan, this is a fun mission with his Benji, and it feels like it. Benji's voice here is pitch perfect, feels like its right out of Rogue Nation.

The Missionary Position, by matchsticks

Ethan and Benji have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Well, Ethan and Benji are already a married couple, but now they have to pretend to be pretending to be a married couple for a mission, and the rest of the team has to help them keep their secret. It'll definitely all work out fine. Probably. Hopefully.

Ethan/Benji. Listen. This one is hilarious.

THERE, there's some stuff to get you started, folks! and you can always hit up mine. I have periphery (in which everyone Benji works with is a little in love with him and Ethan just doesn't deal well), all i need is a certain trigger (in which Ilsa and Benji are in the Syndicate and Ethan trips into romancing them both), and the big AU you'll need a new name to survive this (in which Benji is Ethan's physical therapist and a lot of things start to change)

Looking over all this, it seems my favorite thing is when Ethan is just unhinged and Benji is unfortunately into that.

#mission impossible #benthan #fic recs

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nobody-for-sure · 1 year

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Language Barrier

For those of you who haven't cracked the code yet: as of the last chapter, there’s now two (one for each country’s language). However, as a reminder for everyone, I maintain that the story can still be easily read and enjoyed with only context clues. If you're feeling frustrated trying to crack it, take a break. A fic about a language barrier where you had to know the language would be pretty pointless, wouldn't it?

Chapter 15

(~2.7k words, see chapter list here)

You may have fucked up.

Correction: you definitely fucked up.

The good news is that the teleport waypoints do, in fact, teleport you. Which is cool. Very neat. That means they weren't just a convenient game mechanic for the traveler. Good to know.

The bad news is that you apparently can't control where they teleport you, because when the blinding light fades, you're most definitely NOT in Liyue Harbor.

Fuck, go back. Quickly, you turn to the new waypoint beside you and press your hand against it. "Take me to Wangshu Inn!"

In an unsurprising turn of events... nothing happens. Nevertheless, you keep your hand pressed to the device, waiting. Lag? Is it lag? It took a few moments to activate the first time around, so maybe you just need to be patient.

Minutes pass, and your hand falls to your side. Why is this my life??? In what universe do the teleports only go one way? Are they one-time use? What a rip-off! You consider trying again, asking for a different destination, but you think better of it. It didn't even take you to the right spot in the first place, so you'd better not give it the chance to dump you somewhere worse.

Speaking of... where am I, anyway? You take a long look around. Unfortunately - likely due to the world being bigger than the game - you've been finding in your travels so far that nothing looks exactly the same as you remember it. Nevertheless, you try to stay calm and think things through rationally. (Not doing so has already been your downfall more than you'd like to admit.)

The air is thinner here, and foggy, so you deduce you must be in the mountains somewhere. It makes you thankful you didn't get transported to Dragonspine, at least; you're definitely not dressed for that. You don't think you've left Liyue, either. Not that you would recognize Fontaine or Natlan if you saw them, but the few scattered trees and vegetation seem to fit the bill. Thinking back to the game, you close your eyes in concentration. If I remember correctly, there were some pretty large mountains right next to the harbor. One of them had a waypoint, didn't it? That must be where I am. It's definitely not what you had in mind, but it's also the most logical option you can think of.

You sigh. At least I'm close. Now I just have to figure out a way down. From there, you'll find a way to get a message to your traveling companions.

You give the waypoint a withering glare. Still, could it really not have dropped me anywhere closer? And what's with the indefinite cooldown all of a sudden?? Muttering under your breath, you pick a direction that looks vaguely familiar and start walking. Hopefully, your reception in Liyue will be smoother than it was in Mondstadt... though your misfortunes in the land of freedom were entirely self-inflicted to begin with.

When am I going to stop making life harder for myself?

The mountaintop is hilly, and at first, the fog makes it difficult to see too far ahead. But you're in luck: after several minutes of walking, the fog starts to dissipate, and you can see a cliff edge ahead. Perfect. You can scope out your location and see if you can spot a way down - perhaps there'll even be a nice, gentle slope with a pathway leading straight into the city.

Yeah, right.

But as much as you weren't expecting that to be true, what you see instead comes as even more of a shock.

The sides of the mountain are steep craggy inclines as far as the eye can see, and that's the least of your problems. You're nowhere near the harbor. In fact, you're nowhere near much of anything. Not Qingce, not Mingyun, not even the Chasm, which appears to be the closest thing to civilization in the distance. You know where you are now. The three dreaded trial towers of Tianqiu stand tall across the gorge. No wonder your surroundings seemed vaguely familiar: back when you first pulled Xiao, this was the waypoint you used every day to get to the Primo Geovishap.

But how in Teyvat does 'take me to Liyue Harbor' translate to this?!

...Wait a minute.

You backtrack for a moment. Xiao. I can call Xiao!

You feel much better about summoning the adeptus now that you're actually in need of his assistance, rather than just to say hi. "Xiao!" Despite the situation, you can't quite conceal the tinge of excitement in your voice as you speak the yaksha's name. There's a moment of silence. You hold your breath in anticipation. And then:

"Biat ye, ika! Kundala kucha unu!"

If you had a table, you'd flip it. For the first time, you do recognize the language being spoken. Who would've thought it'd turn out to be a bad thing?

You wheel around to see two club-wielding hilichurls, a geo samachurl, and - by far the most menacing - a rock shieldwall mitachurl almost twice your size. And, in yet another dissimilarity to the fanfics, they do not look happy to see you. Frantically, you think back to your daily commissions with Ella Musk. "Um. Olah?"

The mitachurl charges.

You leap back from the ledge. The last thing you want is to get knocked off and fall to your death. The mitachurl zooms past, missing you by a hair and grunting as it skids to a stop itself, adjusting its shield. The hilichurls are right behind, waving their wooden clubs in a frenzy. They're less formidable, but they have numbers in their favor: when you move to dodge a blow to the head, the other manages to land a heavy hit on your upper arm. You stumble backward a couple steps, cursing. It's not bleeding, but it will definitely leave a nasty bruise. "Xiao!!" Where is he?!

...Oh, wait.

He probably can't understand that I'm calling him, can he?

Fuck.

When you regain your balance, you turn around and make a desperate dash back for the waypoint. The ground rumbles, and rocky spikes shoot up from underneath you (courtesy of the samachurl, no doubt). You skirt around them, and they crumble, but you can hear shouts in hilichurlian behind you. You put on a burst of speed. Soon, the pounding of your heart and the panting of your breath drown out all other sounds.

That's why, when you crest a slight hill, you let out an unholy screech as yet another masked figure appears in your field of vision. Immediately, you swerve the other direction, but you barely move another step before a firm hand clamps down on your shoulder.

"Uwoug. You'll xgovxxo more of them."

You do a double take, and your heart nearly stops in relief. "Xiao," you breathe.

It's hard to tell if it's because of his temperament or not, but the adeptus doesn't seem very happy to see you.

He came to your rescue, there's no doubt about that. Once you realize it's him, you feel safe enough to risk a glance over your shoulder at your enemies. But they're simply... gone. All traces of them have vanished completely, as if the attack existed purely in your imagination.

Obliterated, your mind supplies, in a mixture of fear and awe. You've never been gladder that this is not an imposter au.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, though, your arm is roughly grabbed. "Hey!" you exclaim out of reflex, and the masked face snaps to yours so quickly that you instinctively shut your mouth. It could just be the eerie glow of the eyes, but you somehow get the feeling that he's glaring at you. When you don't say anything further, he makes a derisive noise and turns around. However, as he drags you to a nearby cave, removes his mask, and pins you with a piercing golden stare (that's even scarier than the mask, honestly), it's hard to tell where you stand with him.

"What are you doing?" he asks sharply.

The question roots you to the spot, not because of its content, but because it feels like forever since you've heard an entire coherent sentence from someone. The fact that it's being directed at you angrily by one of your favorite characters is secondary. It takes you a minute to absorb it, because inside your head, you're already celebrating. I was right! Xiao's at level seven! My friendship level theory was right!

The adeptus is not in the mood to wait for your celebration, though. "Vubwro," he says sternly. "Why are you here?"

You blink. "Ah- sorry. Um- by accident?"

He furrows his brow. "By what?"

"...accident...?" When the crease in his brow only grows, you realize he must not be able to understand that word. "Oh. Well, I tried to use one of the waypoints to get to the harbor, but it didn't work. Somehow I ended up here instead."

You expect him to maybe sigh or call you an idiot, but he just shakes his head, expression unchanging. "Not that," he says, sounding irritated. It's a sharp contrast to the way everyone else has spoken to you. "Why are you back?"

The question seems to hold a certain gravity. Your excitement fades. "...Back?"

He gives a single nod. Your chest tightens, and the ominous feeling you've been getting recently returns in flash. "Um... I don't know what you mean," you admit slowly.

"What?" His gaze narrows even further, and he opens his mouth before closing it again. "Xyob here," he says brusquely, before vanishing.

Numbly, you lean against the cave wall, turning the question over in your head. 'Back'? What does he mean? I haven't been here before. ...Moreover, the way he's acting... could it be...? You gulp.

Several minutes pass before there's a flash of pale green light, and the yaksha appears before you again. Before you can say a word, he sinks to one knee and bows his head. "I udykapaso. It's an varal to make your ugroxryoetgo, Your Grace," he says coolly.

You can barely make heads or tails of the fragmented sentence beyond 'Your Grace', but the complete reversal in attitude is enough to leave you gaping. "...What?"

"Which xvos did you not hroxwvuhre, Your Grace?" he says patiently, without raising his head. His tone exudes a strange sense of neutrality devoid of its previous emotion. It's... unnerving, to say the least.

"Wait. No, wait. What? What is this?? Who are you, and what did you do with Xiao?"

"I am Xiao, Your Grace."

"No, no. Where's that other guy I talked to? The one who was mad at me? That was Xiao."

"...That was me." You notice he doesn’t deny the part about being mad.

"...Are you actually a whopperflower?"

"Am I a what?"

"So you are?!"

"No, I am not," he says firmly, and this time you catch a familiar rough edge in his voice. So it is him.

"Then what's with all... this? Why are you so calm and... nice all of a sudden, when you were definitely not happy to see me before? ...Also, stand up."

He does. "It is krylxar to rvugrag yourself with, Your Grace. I was runoxwyq."

You purse your lips. You didn't understand much of that, but your mind is too preoccupied to try and break it down. You're almost scared to hear the answer, but you want... no, you need to know if it's a possibility. "...Did you think I was someone else?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment. Xiao folds his arms and gives you a long, searching look. "No," he says finally. "I could never." His words hold no hint of insincerity or falsehoods.

Your brow furrows in confusion. "Then-"

"I will not be krynousw more on this," he snaps.

You raise your hands in surrender. "Okay." Whatever is behind his sudden change in demeanor, it's obviously a touchy subject, and you would never force him to tell you. You've heard all you needed.

An awkward silence falls over the cave. You have no idea what's going through the yaksha's mind, but for your part, you're trying to piece together everything that's happened since your first encounter.

The way he treats you is undeniably different than the others you've met so far. Is it a Liyue thing, or an adeptus thing, or a Xiao thing? First brash, and now more formal... yet still lacking the unquestioning respect and adoration of Mondstadters. Most baffling is the fact that he claimed to know who you were the entire time. You believe him - but you have no idea what to make of it. Nor were you expecting these sorts of complications right off the bat with the first person you can (almost) properly communicate with.

It's painfully ironic: the first one you can comprehend is the one you understand the least.

You sigh. You don't know how you were expecting your first meeting with Xiao to go, but like every other part of your journey so far, this definitely wasn't it. You can't begin to fathom what sort of relationship the two of you have. It doesn't seem to be a good one. Maybe something's different for characters you've built and travelled with - which would explain why you had a different reception in Mondstadt - but you can't think of what or why it would be. It doesn't seem like he's about to tell you, either.

At the very least, though, no matter what he might be hiding, he didn't hate you enough to leave you at the mercy of the hilichurls earlier. You owe him for that. "Thank you for coming to help me."

He exhales and gives a slight nod before turning to face you fully. "What are you doing in reiuem xwvon?" he asks, more calmly than before.

"In where?"

"...Here."

"Um, that doesn't really- never mind, not important. I think I mentioned this earlier, but I'm not here on purpose...... you look confused."

"I can't hroxwvuhre half of the whvab you say," he responds bluntly, reminding you of your glaring communication problem. "Try using vupsqyw ones."

"...Using what ones?"

"Vuywou," he says, and when you shake your head, "Small."

"Small ones?" Small words? You turn this over in your head for a moment. Breaking it down, you feel like you've actually been able to understand a majority of what he's said, but he's right. Most of the words you recognize are short and fall into very basic English. Alright, then. You can work with that. It's hard to say exactly where friendship levels draw the line, but better Razor language than sorry.

"Okay," you start off, "I did not try to be here." You give him a questioning glance, and he nods for you to continue. "I used a... thing. I tried to go to the-" you pause, debating whether 'harbor' falls into basic English and deciding it probably doesn't- "...place. Not here - place with water and boats." He shakes his head in confusion, and you wave it off. "I tried to go to a place, but the thing took me here. I don't know why." Stupid waypoint.

The adeptus takes a minute to absorb this information. "Which... thing did you use?"

A lightbulb goes off in your brain, and you squat down, tracing your finger in the dirt. "This thing."

He seems to be trying hard to hide his exasperation when he repeats, "Yes. Which thing?"

"Which one?" Does it matter? Well, for all you know, it does. "Uh, the one at Wangshu Inn."

"Try again."

"Um... the one at the hotel? No? Okay... the one at the place, with... the food you like?"

Xiao bristles, and for the first time - if only for a fraction of a second - you get the strong sense you know what he's thinking. If you showed up, he had expected to meet you there. "You were there? When?"

"Just now."

"How?"

You shrug. "I came with people. From-" you sigh- "place."

He mulls this over, narrowing his gaze. "If you didn't try to be here, why did you not go back?"

"Because I can't. That's why I was hoping you could help me," you respond. "The thing here didn't work."

At long last, you've been able to steer the conversation around to the reason you summoned him in the first place. Moreover, the act of conversing itself has been going a lot better now, if you do say so yourself. This is progress. This is good. It's a great feeling, like you're finally making some headway through the chaotic mess you've found yourself in.

And then the yaksha brings you crashing down again.

"Then you can't leave."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin xiao #lbbynfs

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apocalypseornaw · 1 year

Text

Where do I belong?

Post an argument with Mary you're uncertain as to where you fit into the Winchesters' new dynamic

This fits into the Always be Yours verse kinda fits in after Love is a Fight (Love is a Fight will get a part 2 also with Dean finding out Amara has her)

Warnings: Mary is a B (Also this is the her working with the b.m.o.l. storyline and of course she wants as many curious hunters out of the way)Cursing, mentions of sex

Dean was still half asleep when he rolled over in the bed seeking you out, hands searching for your body but coming up empty. He didn't think too much of it at first. You were up before him a lot of the time considering it took him longer to fall asleep. You were probably in the kitchen searching for coffee or some other caffeinated attempt at starting your day.

When twenty minutes passed and you'd yet to return he started to worry a bit. When he sat up fully awake and alert he noticed something was off in the room. Your shotgun wasn't under his, your boots were missing from the foot of the bed and the drawers that held your clothing were still cracked open as if you hadn't wanted to risk the noise by closing them.

No, not again. He hadn't done anything, Amara was gone and had long since relinquished any hold on him and even she had assured your worries weren't founded. She'd told you "Dean's heart belongs to you alone" He understood why you'd left then but why now?

He stood looking around the room for any clue as to where you'd gone or why, when his eyes landed on a carefully folded piece of paper in the center of the small table in the corner of his room. The photo of you, him and Sam sat atop it as if you wanted to ensure he found it first thing.

He walked across the room, moving the photo to the side he picked up the paper and unfolded it before starting to read

Dean,

Maybe Mary's right. I don't belong here, in your life anymore. I had no right to stay after some of the things that's happened. When Amara took me alongside Lucifer she told me that I had your heart but she also reminded me that I had betrayed you. I should've picked a stranger, maybe I never should've allowed myself to fall for you to begin with? Maybe it'd be easier. At least then when shit hits the fan your self preservation wouldn't go completely out the window in favor of keeping me and Sam safe. The truth is I think I knew I'd end up falling for you before the angels ever fell. When you called me after the trials, when Sam almost died I didn't hesitate to come to your side. Yes he is my best friend and has always been but I knew you'd need me worse. You've always been a good man but living with you, hunting shoulder to shoulder I got to see your heart also. From dancing in the kitchen to taking down monsters I will never regret the moments I was able to spend at your side. Do me one favor please? Don't come after me. You have your mom back! Your brother is safe and happy. I need to figure out where I belong. My heart is always with you and will always be yours.

Love,

He threw the paper down before storming out of his room. What had Mary said to you? Mother or not what right did she have to come into his life and try to destroy one of the only good things he had. The one piece of happiness in this world that was solely his.

You were just shy of Sioux Falls when you pulled over. You didn't even know where you were headed. Your first instinct had been to go to Jody but her or one of the girls would surely call Dean.

You hadn't wanted to leave. Mary had spouted such vileness. How had she found out? Had Dean told her? Then she said you were holding Dean back that if he wasn't with you he could find someone else, possibly someone that could get him out of hunting.

The breaking point was when she said that it was a shame that one day one or both of "her boys" would end up dead because of you. "Just saying you must be pretty decent in bed for them to repeatedly risk their lives" it wouldn't have forced you out but Dean had gotten broken ribs on a hunt and Sam had been slashed bad enough had it not been for Cas stitches would've been needed. Yeah you'd gotten hurt but would they have made it out uninjured had it not been for you?

You decided to pull off and catch a little sleep. Maybe you'd feel better and be more clear headed after.

---------

You shot up out of a dead sleep feeling your heart try to leap from your chest. It was just a nightmare, flashing from Dean dying to you being tortured at Amara's hands.

You reached out to touch your gun you'd laid on the center console of your jeep. Something to ground yourself. You were fine, you were fine. You took a few deep breaths and reached for your phone before reality sat in. You couldn't call Dean.

@globetrotter28

You Belong Here

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #always be yours

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aspd-culture · 2 months

Note

I apologize, i know this is a “culture is” blog but i was wondering if you had any tips on unmasking? Its a huge struggle for me and its effecting my treatment and mental health severely.

This culture is blog definitely is in massive part a place to ask and answer questions too, no worries at all!/gen

The biggest thing for me that helped was first working on the masked piece that told me I was supposed to give a fuck about what people thought of me. I learned that manually over a long period of time, having next to no sense of embarrassment as a child and early teen. I found that once I got back to "I really don't give a fuck if you like me or think I'm a shit person or what, and if you think I should be constantly putting on some act for you, then you're an exhausting person and I'm glad to see you leave my life so bye", the rest of unmasking has come easier.

The second biggest thing builds on this; making sure you're not filling your life, especially your personal relationships which are supposed to be caring, supportive, and filling your battery vs draining it, with people you can't unmask around. Massive red flag if they can't get past the easy symptoms like flat affect and need for emotions being clearly communicated after a conversation or two and maybe some reassurance if they are more sensitive or have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. If the people you value push you to hide your disorder, you will no matter how hard you try not to. ASPD makes us cling tighter to bad people sometimes, because we know that we hate the social dance of trying to find someone else even remotely trustworthy, let alone that we can tolerate spending time around. This goes 10x for any Exceptions.

The third is letting yourself get a little angry. You shouldn't be spending your energy trying to hide symptoms you never asked for and that hurt you more than anyone else. This disorder doesn't show up without the failure of *at minimum* a few adults in your life for many years without resolving it. If they don't like you being like this, then maybe they should have done their job. It isn't your job to hide their mistakes. It isn't your job to hide their *failure* to do a simple job of keeping a kid safe and secure. If you look up the percentage of needs being met that leads to a secure attachment style (which ASPD is not compatible with), you probably will find the getting mad portion of unmasking pretty easy. The bar was in hell and the majority of the adults supposed to take care of you in your childhood played limbo. That's worth being upset about.

To be clear, this isn't the go ahead or encouragement to get violent, abusive, or destructive, but if your symptoms are inconveniencing someone vs hurting them, then fuck it. You deserve to breathe and just *be* sometimes instead of starring in Normal Person, Director's Cut all day every day.

Once I got those things under my belt, most of the rest of unmasking for me has just been reminding myself that I will burn out if I keep making myself fit in a box that does not fit me. It was not my choice to end up a square while everyone else is a circle, and no matter how much it might bug anyone, that won't make a square fit through the circle hole.

Just in case no one else in your life says this to you, I will. You deserve at least some amount of time - and while sleeping does *not* count - without the mask at least some of every day (with maybe exceptions for like the occasional holiday with family or work trip or anniversary or something) without masking. There are plenty of symptoms of this disorder that do not cause harm to anyone, they just don't like it because they aren't used to it (for example flat affect) or because it causes them to have to put some effort in (for example, needing to communicate their emotions vs playing a bs game of Guess Who? with the clues read in a language you don't understand). Those symptoms can and should be unmasked sometimes.

Plain text below the cut:

This culture is blog definitely is in massive part a place to ask and answer questions too, no worries at all!/gen

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome

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tsarinatorment · 11 months

Text

Michael Yew's Fatal Flaw

This meta is the fault of @apollosgiftofprophecy who made the questionable decision of asking about Michael's fatal flaw in my vicinity the other day.

People who have been following me for a while may recall I once answered an ask about Apollo kid fatal flaws, and mentioned Michael there. Please ignore what I said back then because I'd barely even started picking him apart to see what made him tick, and my conclusions there have since been deemed rather surface-level!

The first question, of course, is what is a fatal flaw? What makes it different from a regular character flaw? The clue's in the name, I think - fatal flaw is one that's most likely to one day result in the hero's death, as Annabeth also suggests in Sea of Monsters:

“I don’t know, Percy, but every hero has one. If you don’t find it and learn to control it … well, they don’t call it ‘fatal’ for nothing.”

Athena gives us a little more to go on in The Titan's Curse:

"In each case, your loved ones have been used to lure you into Kronos's traps. Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous." I balled my fists. "That's not a flaw. Just because I want to help my friends—" "The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation," she said. "Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed."

Of course, she's talking specifically to Percy about his flaw here, but there are certainly broader points to be inferred from this. When you break down all her warnings, it boils down near enough to "your fatal flaw is one you either cannot fight, or do not want to fight, because you think it is right/justified", which is interesting. It's a flaw that you don't, necessarily, recognise as a flaw, which makes it difficult to do anything about because how can something that's right be wrong?

As Athena says, the most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation - flaws that, in most situations, actually help, or are perceived to do so. These are the flaws most likely to kill the hero - and maybe others, as well.

With that out of the way, let's start picking apart Michael properly.

Generally, I see anger, pride or stubbornness put forwards as suggestions for his fatal flaw, so I'll look at each of those and see how well they actually fit. On top of that, I'm also going to explore two other contenders that I've come to notice from the hundreds of times I've re-read his scenes - protectiveness, and love.

First up, let's talk about Anger.

Anger is the one that seems to spring to mind most readily for some people (myself included), and it's hardly surprising given his introductory scene:

She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features—either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow. "It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!" [...] I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf. "STOP IT!" I yelled. "What are you guys doing?" Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk." "Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said.

(As an aside, I love Michael's "kiss my quiver" line because hip quivers are very much a thing and if you think of his quiver as on his hip instead of his back... he's basically saying "kiss my ass" but in a kid-book-friendly way)

Michael's introduction is full of aggression - he's standing on tiptoes, getting "in Clarisse's face", and yelling at her. To make matters worse, it's in front of a grieving Silena which makes him (and Clarisse, but we've already had four books on how much Clarisse can be a bitch in Percy's opinion) look incredibly callous and uncaring. Percy's rather unflattering description about "two feet of attitude" and "because he scowled so much" adds to the overall impression that Michael's a right piece of work as well. Thanks, Percy.

It's a good introduction, though. This is memorable, as far as character introductions go (far more memorable than the first time we're introduced to Beckendorf, or Silena, etc.), and it's full of personality - personality that says Michael is not afraid to throw hands and will do it anywhere, anytime. It directly opposes him with Clarisse, but in such a way that makes them seem like similar characters, and we know anger/rage is one of Clarisse's traits as well.

This scene isn't a one-off, either. We get the full feud against the Ares cabin, which Michael spearheads:

We ducked as Michael Yew's chariot dive-bombed an Ares camper. The Ares camper tried to stab him and cuss him out in rhyming couplets. He was pretty creative about rhyming those cuss words. "We're fighting for our lives," I said, "and they're bickering about some stupid chariot." "They'll get over it," Annabeth said. "Clarisse will come to her senses."

The fact that it's Clarisse, not Michael, that Annabeth thinks is going to stand down also says a lot about how she sees the pair of them, and she must know Michael reasonably well, so this adds another note to the impression that Michael can be even more unreasonable than Clarisse (although it should also be noted that in this feud Michael is the one in the right, and Chiron has said as much to the campers, or at least the head counsellors - and of course from a narrative point of view, Clarisse is a far more familiar character for readers).

Michael himself also admits later on that he lost his temper with Clarisse again off-screen:

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

Those names certainly weren't ones for polite company - or a children's book. I think we can confidently say that Michael certainly has a temper, much like his father is legendary for.

But is it a fatal flaw? Well, sadly we have a scene that's implied to be Michael's death scene (I say implied because we never saw a body and a lot of things don't quite add up, so I prefer to think of him as not-dead, but for the purposes of this meta we'll consider it his death scene), so let's go look at that.

He struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke's own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whipped around, and I skidded halfway back to Manhattan. I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow.

Michael's final stand happens immediately after several demigods - including his own siblings - are just blown clean off the bridge by Kronos. Is it a decision spurred by anger after things going wrong after they were finally going right? It would make sense.

However, there is one big issue with anger as his fatal flaw. Obviously, Michael does have this temper, and it does get out of hand, but we only ever see it get out of hand in the (relative) safety of camp. The Michael we see in Manhattan actually seems very calm and in control the entire time. He's observant and quick-witted, and is the only head counsellor to spot (or at least verbalise) a potential flaws in Percy and Annabeth's plan.

"He's right," Annabeth said. "The gods of the wind should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island." "They have boats," Michael Yew pointed out. An electric tingle went down my back. Suddenly I understood Athena's advice: Remember the rivers. "I'll take care of the boats," I said. Michael frowned. "How?" "Just leave it to me," I said.

Of course, Percy being the son of Poseidon can plug that massive gap, but it took Michael asking the question for him to make the important connection that he needed to.

This calmness continues into the battle itself, as well.

Michael Yew ran up to us. He was definitely the shortest commando I'd ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time. "Glad you could join us," he said. "Where are the other reinforcements?" "For now, we're it," I said. "Then we're dead," he said. [...] "We have to fall back," Michael said. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge." "No," I said. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn." Michael laughed. "How do you plan to do that?" I drew my sword. "Percy," Annabeth said, "let me come with you." "Too dangerous," I said. "Besides, I need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I'll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can." Michael snorted. "Thanks a lot."

No temper tantrums, no yelling like he did with Clarisse earlier - he's matter of fact when he realises they don't really have reinforcements (not knowing, of course, about Percy's little Styx bath), he doesn't argue with Percy when Percy starts taking command. He continues to say his piece and get his point across, but at no point do we ever get the sense that Michael is anything other than perfectly in control at any point during the battle - which is not what you would expect from a rage-based fatal flaw.

For example, contrast Michael's scenes with Clarisse later in the battle:

The real Clarisse looked up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate. I'd seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when I'd fought him in single combat. "YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screamed at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!" She grabbed her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charged the drakon.

and

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?" "Clarisse!" I yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!" "What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!" There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The two- hundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives. Meanwhile, we tended our wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with her horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meet her battle.

Calm and collected whomst? Not to say that Clarisse's temper isn't understandable here, but this fits much more in line with Athena's description of a fatal flaw - one that seems justified, right, even (and later on, Clarisse gets frozen by a Hyperborean Giant, so this does come back to bite her!), as opposed to the way Michael seems to stay in control of his temper even when his siblings are being killed around him.

With all that in mind, while I willa gree that anger is a flaw of Michael's, it certainly doesn't seem to check the boxes to be a fatal flaw, so let's move onto the next one: Pride.

Pride has its roots in the same parts of the narration as anger, so this section is going to be rather shorter because I don't need to rehash all the quotes again. The main thing that stands out on the pride side of the feud, specifically, is that it's completely needless for Michael to keep agitating Clarisse and the Ares cabin.

Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?" Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—" [...] "I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?" Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes.

Chiron's put his hooves down on the matter - the Apollo cabin has the best claim to the chariot, Clarisse is the aggressor here. The other head counsellors all agree with that, too. Michael could, and given the upcoming war, should, ignore her and put his and his siblings' focus towards the war and not an argument he's already won.

But he doesn't. His chariot is attacking the campers - the Apollo kids aren't just defending themselves from the upset Ares kids, they're on the offensive themselves, arguably more so than the Ares campers.

As we crossed the commons area, a fight broke out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Some Apollo campers armed with firebombs flew over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two pegasi. I'd never seen the chariot before, but it looked like a pretty sweet ride. Soon, the roof of the Ares cabin was burning, and naiads from the canoe lake rushed over to blow water on it. Then the Ares campers called down a curse, and all the Apollo kids' arrows turned to rubber. The Apollo kids kept shooting at the Ares kids, but the arrows bounced off. Two archers ran by, chased by an angry Ares kid who was yelling in poetry: "Curse me, eh? I'll make you pay! / I don't want to rhyme all day!"

This feels a lot like he's trying to validate that yes, the chariot really is his cabin's, and the fact that Clarisse keeps insisting otherwise despite every non-Ares member of the camp being on Michael's side is insulting/undermining the Apollo cabin's claim.

It also sounds like he made sure to have the final word against Clarisse when she still refused to come and fight, which is a very prideful action.

"Nah," Michael said. "Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We'd insulted her honor for the last time or some stupid thing." "Least you tried," I said. Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

The thing is, though, that we hit a snag with the pride theory at this point for a similar reason to the anger one - as soon as there's something bigger and more immediate to focus on, Michael sets it aside.

He gives up the chariot they were fighting over - the chariot that, rightfully, is the Apollo cabin's - for no reason other than because he knew that they needed the Ares cabin to come and fight and it was the only thing he could think of that he could do to try and change Clarisse's mind - made even more stark when compared with Michael's original, in-camp, reaction to Clarisse's declaration.

Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying." The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room. Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."

It's true that Michael does get upset when Clarisse ignores his sacrifice of the chariot and still refuses to fight, but I think that's understandable given the situation (and he is, still, a teenage boy with a temper). It doesn't change the fact that he does it, however, nor the fact that Michael doesn't rescind the sacrifice and bring the chariot with him regardless, despite its potential stragetic uses in the war. Pride certainly doesn't seem to have much if any weight in his final stand, either, so I'd say that like anger, this doesn't actually fit as his fatal flaw, even if it might be somewhat of a personal trait/flaw.

At this point, it seems a little bit like a moot point to poke at Stubbornness because most of the counter-arguments for anger and pride also address this, but I'll quickly go over it anyway because this is the first one that properly shows itself all the way through Michael's appearances.

I've already mentioned the way he doesn't back down in the chariot feud, which is pride, yes, but also stubbornness - he won't leave it alone, won't let Clarisse stake her own claim on it, keeps fighting past the point of necessity over it.

But then we have his final scene, where he stands his ground. There's no indication that Michael even tried to run when the bridge crumbled.

I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow. "Michael, go!" I screamed. "Percy, the bridge!" he called. "It's already weak!" At first I didn't understand. Then I looked down and saw fissures in the pavement. Patches of the road were half melted from Greek fire. The bridge had taken a beating from Kronos's blast and the exploding arrows. "Break it!" Michael yelled. "Use your powers!" [...] I turned to thank Michael Yew, but the words died in my throat. Twenty feet away, a bow lay in the street. Its owner was nowhere to be seen. "No!" I searched the wreckage on my side of the bridge. I stared down at the river. Nothing.

Michael completely ignores Percy telling him to run, tells him to break the bridge that he's currently on and clearly has no intentions of leaving, not with that notched arrow that he then seems to have fired, given that there's no arrow later on. This seems the closest we've got so far to a flaw that goes beyond a simple character flaw and into the fatal category.

Except.

He's a stubborn character, but just like with anger, like with pride, Michael keeps putting it aside when it might otherwise cause issues during the battle - he questions Percy's plans more than once, but despite that, he cedes command to Percy on Williamsburg Bridge, follows his orders instead of continuing with his own strategies, and generally shows that he's exactly the sort of person you want by your side/at your back when you're fighting. Michael's flexible and prepared to change and adapt as the situation does - which is pretty much the opposite of stubbornness, so while at first glance it seemed like a strong candidate it's once again contradicted by the scenes on Williamsburg Bridge.

So, that's the three usual suspects that arise from the chariot feud all falling apart once we rearch the battlefield. Michael is certainly passionate about the fight - more than once, Percy implies that he seems to actually be having a good time on the battlefield and there's no other explanation other than eagerness for this moment:

I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. I was aware of the Apollo campers behind me shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

But despite all of this, that passion doesn't seem to be based in anger, pride, or stubbornness, despite those being the first things people seem to think of when they think about Michael - and that's why I have two more options added to the list to explore.

Moving on, then, I'll start with Protectiveness.

So, just now I said that stubbornness is what caused Michael's final moments, but is it really? It was certainly part of it, but also - as I mentioned earlier, when talking about anger, Michael's final stand is immediately after some of his siblings have been thrown off the bridge - having already seen at least one other sibling killed earlier:

Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn't see what happened to him next. I didn't want to know.

Siblings, of course, that as their head counsellor he is the one in charge of and responsible for - it's likely that he's the oldest in the cabin as well (although not guaranteed), and that these are all his younger siblings that are getting killed/seriously injured/status unknown. We're told that the "remaining" Apollo campers are running for the end of the bridge and retreating as far as possible - all of them except for Michael, who was with them to start with but stopped and turned to face the enemy.

Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but Annabeth stayed right beside me, fighting with her knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge.

Followed by

The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me. His last arrow was notched in his bow.

This is the point when Michael makes the decision that the bridge has to be destroyed, figures out how to destroy it, and basically orders Percy to do it. I've got a whole other argument about how Michael is the reason Olympus didn't fall that first night of the siege, but at this point I think it's blatantly obvious that the only thing Michael is thinking about is protecting his siblings. Why else would he put himself (tiny archer who should never, ever, be on the front lines - which is hinted at by the fact he still seeks out as high a ground as he can get aka the cables) as the rear guard, the barrier between an entire army and his fleeing siblings?

He's protecting his siblings - he's guarding their backs as they flee to safety and he's finding a way to stop them from being pursued, even if it kills him in the process. It's clearly the right decision to him, the only decision he thinks he can take - and it's textbook fatal flaw.

But before I settle on that, there's one more I want to talk about, which is really an extension of protectiveness, and that's Love.

I'll admit that love always feels like a bit of a cheat to me as a fatal flaw - it's a bit of a catch-all, in that if you argue hard enough you can pull back almost any character to love in some way (which is why Aphrodite is such an underrated yet powerful goddess), and it's nowhere near as obvious for Michael as it is for Apollo and Nico (yes I know what Bianca said, but consider: she didn't know what she was talking about. Nico's fatal flaw is a whole other meta, though), but I think it fills in a few gaps that protectiveness leaves a little open.

There's something that gets overlooked a lot when Michael gets discussed, especially the chariot feud, despite the fact that Percy outright states it.

Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer.

No sugar-coating, no forgetting about a background character that got all of two pre-death appearances - Lee was killed in battle, and Michael was the one that took over the cabin from him.

We never get any canon information on Michael and Lee's relationship, but obviously they knew each other well, given that Michael's the next most senior kid - and isn't that the kicker. Because this line tells us one very important thing: Michael had to step into his big brother's suddenly-vacated shoes in the immediate aftermath of a battle, with no time to grieve.

We even have a comparison to make right in that same scene:

Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile.

Jake's also been shoved into the same role, a role we later find out he never wanted and never recovered from - big brother's dead, your turn to step up and lead the cabin in war. Most of the counsellors are laughing but all Jake can do is a faint smile. He's not okay, and you wouldn't expect him to be - and in The Lost Hero he's even more blatant about the fact that he's not okay (same as Will, in fact) - so, clearly, Michael is not okay, either.

The chariot feud is a whole mess of emotions - anger, pride and stubbornness are ones I've already covered - but I never see anyone talk about grief, and how Michael's been forced to lead a cabin in the wake of the death of his older sibling (the first wartime promotion, really - the Stolls situation isn't quite the same), and how he has to be at least somewhat off-balance, because grief is a tricky little thing and there's no way it hasn't got its nasty little claws in Michael, and that only a few scant months - a year at most - after Lee's death, it's still very, very raw.

And there's a strong correlation between love and grief. "What is grief but love perservering?" "Grief is the price we pay for love" - there's a neverending list of sayings about grief and love.

Then there's the bridge. There's Michael putting Austin and Kayla right at the back, setting traps but a long way back from the front line. There's the way he knew that without the Ares cabin they weren't going to win so he surrendered the chariot in the hopes of getting the front line fighters to join in - the ones that will stand between the archers and the enemy, between his siblings and the enemy. There's, again, the way he stood his ground as a barrier between Kronos and his army and his siblings, even though if Percy hadn't destroyed the bridge he would've been overrun and killed (and he was in such a precarious position that breaking the bridge... well, we know what happened or do we).

But also there's the fact that Michael was fighting at all. The fact that Michael wanted to fight - when Percy gives him the opportunity to take the fight to Kronos, to fight back rather than just numbly defending the bridge/Manhattan/Olympus, Michael seizes it.

His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.

"That was my last sonic arrow," Michael said. "A gift from your dad?" I asked. "God of music?" Michael grinned wickedly.

I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

He's right there on the front line, it's so obvious that he's there because he wants to be, because he believes in their cause. Because he loves Apollo.

It's never said in so many words (although we know Apollo has interacted with Michael because he's given him those sonic arrows), but it's there in Michael's actions, in how he never falters in the pro-god side of the war despite losing sibling after sibling after sibling to it - Michael has to love Apollo for anything else to make sense.

It's his siblings he sacrifices himself for, but it's his father he chose to fight for. And it's both that he died for.

If that's not a fatal flaw in action, what is?

#michael yew #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo meta #tsari analyses things #i have so many feelings about Michael okay #he didn't deserve to die #and i sincerely hope he didn't

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lady-fey · 9 months

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Don’t Mix Thoughts and Dialogue

During a bit of dialogue, it can be incredibly tempting to give your reader a glimpse of what the characters are thinking. This is a trap. Don’t do it.

Why?

Well, the best way to explain this is to just give you a quick example.

Mary laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Hey, do you remember that night with Jimmy and the cat?” Ryan smiled, his mind drifting back over the long years of their friendship. That they would still be so close after all this time was truly a gift. Yet a part of him still asked ‘what if?’ What if they were meant to be something other than friends? Could that every happen or was he being greedy? Risking something beautiful for so little gain. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Then he smiled and said, “Yeah, I still don’t know where he got it!”

Question: when you got to Ryan’s response, did you remember what Mary said or did you have to glance back up to jog your memory? If you glanced back up, then don’t feel bad! You are completely normal and that’s why this is a technique that you should use sparingly.

When we’re reading, our brains are constantly processing new information. It’s basically an ongoing memory game! If you’ve ever played one of those, then you know that it can be quite tricky to recall which picture is hiding under which card or what objects were on the now-hidden tray. However, we can always pick up the card or reveal the tray to remind ourselves of the answer. Similarly, we can always glanced back up the page and reread the previous line, but a story isn’t a game. Most writers want their audience to be fully immersed in the scene. Their eyes should travel down the page, following the flow of the words, never needing to look back at what was said three paragraphs ago.

You’re never going to be able to make your audience remember everything that you wrote. There are just too many words in the story. That’s why, when you’re writing dialogue, you want to keep all of the surrounding text related to the dialogue. Don’t let your characters go off on tangents like Ryan did because then your audience’s brain will switch to this new topic and forget the old one the same way that a verbal tangent will lead to someone asking, “Hey, wait, what were we talking about?”

I get the temptation to do the thought thing. It can give some really fun insight into a character. I will do it myself in early drafts. Then, upon rereading, I’ll realize that I switched focus from the dialogue and, as much as I like sharing my character’s thoughts, dialogue just isn’t the place to do it. If you’re including dialogue, the point is usually the interactions between the characters, not their deep, individual thoughts.

In this case of the above, Ryan’s thoughts needed to wait until after the conversation was over OR I should have introduced this topic earlier so that I could briefly hint at Ryan’s feelings with something like:

Mary laughed, the sound making Ryan's traitorous heart skip a beat. Then she asked, “Hey, do you remember that night with Jimmy and the cat?” “Yeah, I still don’t know where he got it!” Ryan said, gazing at her with melancholy fondness. “Did he ever tell you?”

This is not to say that you can never do the thought thing. You can. Just be aware that it's dragging your audience away from the dialogue and they will likely forget the details of what was being discussed, making it a not-so-great techniquie.

The only time when I’d do that is when I want the character to forget the conversation, too. Then I can bring the character and the audience back to the discussion in a natural way.

I’ll also note that readers do remember things long after they happen. It’s just that what tends to stick are the big, important details (ex: Alim was murdered) or the things that get repeated constantly (ex: the suspect list that the detectives go over after every new clue). Dialogue tends to be largely forgettable as the point is rarely the specific words, which is why breaking a conversation is so jarring.

#writing advice #writing tips #writing dialogue #dialogue #example #how to write

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is-the-fire-real · 3 months

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judío por elección (part 2)

(part 1.)

My wife and I started searching for a community after a lot of talking. But, technically, we were already looking.

After E died, S gave us charge over a specific set of books. He had told her that it was vital these books go to a synagogue. He preferred it to be a London synagogue. We had no clue which one.

Shoved in with all the different books he had, and we inherited, was ephemera from different synagogues--pamphlets from the 1980s and 1990s, booklets from the '40s and '50s. We started calling and emailing them about these books, because they were pretty important.

They're chumash with a publication date of 1898.

Problem was, we couldn't get any synagogues to respond. The one who finally did said that they had too many books and could not accept any more. They suggested that E might still be honored if the chumash went to a Spanish synagogue.

The community here, as you can imagine, is struggling. Spain has done a real good job at keeping Jews out since the expulsion of 1492. Most groups operate in half-secret: no website, or a website that hasn't been updated in years; no phone numbers. Half of the people we tried to contact never responded. Most of the rest couldn't support our conversion.

One rabbi from Madrid answered us. She made it clear that we'd have to move if we wanted to attend her group. This was expected and crushing. We're poor, disabled, and pretty well stuck where we are. But then she said that there was a brand-new community in a city closer to us, one we visit with some frequency. She introduced us to their leader.

I have the impression that A would be considered a cantor. He is not a rabbi, but he can lead services. He had a few questions about my wife and I's histories and experiences with Judaism. (Those experiences I'll talk about somewhat, but it's difficult to talk about meaningfully while also maintaining privacy, so it'll have to wait.) He wanted to know if and what we were reading. Then he invited us to Shabbat, which they conduct through videocalls.

This group does not have a rabbi, much less a synagogue. Several of the folks who call in for our Shabbat meeting live in a different city entirely. That person talks about experiences with Mossad. I want to get better at Spanish so that I can learn from her.

There's singing (as someone who's seen Ashkenazi services, the Sephardi tradition sounds amazing), of course, and because there's so few of us, A has my wife and I read sometimes for services. The very first thing I got to read was Psalm 23, which has always been one of my favorite works of art... which A couldn't know when he asked me to read it.

I said I'd stumble at lot. He told me to read it slowly in Spanish, that it's better to read slow and correctly than quickly and clumsily. He seemed pleased with my effort.

I was raised Mormon, and the entire approach to worship was very different, in a way I found appealing. My wife said it wasn't that different for them--they were raised mainstream Protestant, so singing and standing/sitting a lot were normal for them.

When we were asked to raise a glass of alcohol, we asked if it had to be wine. (We're bad Spaniards. Neither of us likes the stuff.) A said that as long as it was fermented, it was fine. One attendant had a gin and tonic.

The last time we celebrated Shabbat, we used gay-pride themed glasses and filled them with beer. "¿Qué tenéis?" we were asked.

"¡Cerveza!", which cracked them all up, and the ex-Mossad member talked about how the Orthodox she used to worship with would drink whiskey.

Setting aside the Shabbat has been, overall, easier than I thought it would be. I check HebCal to make sure when the candles should be lit. I do all my household chores throughout Thursday and Friday-daytime. My wife tries to cook as much as possible before the candles are lit, and we eat, talk, and do our video-call service with the community.

Saturday I set aside. I have to keep reminding myself not to work, to consider things done even if they look like they're not.

But onward.

Our little community is fantastic, particularly A. He found out I'm having problems with some of my IDs. He told us not to worry. He knows a lot of people who work immigration and he can help us go to the right office and navigate the Spanish bureaucracy. ("Byzantine" should be replaced with "Spanish".) He's answered all our questions and invited us to events about the Shoah and personally introduced us to people.

They were so welcoming, so open, so not-rejecting-us-three-times (but if you count all the rabbis who told us no, technically, that's more than three) that it shocked my wife and I. We talked beforehand about how the community might want to withdraw, and not trust new converts, given October 7. We found the opposite. Our local Jews seem to feel that our willingness to look at how the world is behaving right now and still say "Your people will be my people" demonstrates our sincerity in and of itself.

On the other hand, when we first met A in person, my wife made a comment regarding his personal safety. He admitted that there was a man in the room with us who's his armed bodyguard. He and his wife do not leave home on business related to the community without their bodyguard.

My wife felt a cold hand creep up their back when they heard that. I was not nearby--I was checking all the exits of the auditorium and calculating where we'd need to sit if we had to flee. There were "pro-Palestinian" protests going on that day and the odds were there wouldn't be any danger near us, but... but...

Several of A's family members are also converting. We will have to travel halfway across the country to a mikveh. There are many medieval mikvehs in Spain, but to my knowledge, there are only two which are actually in use. My wife says we'll have to do a road trip. I immediately think about how "one Sephardi and four converts go road tripping across a country where one of its favorite dishes was designed as a Fuck You to Jews and Muslims" would be a fucking great novel.

Would be? Will be. And completing this branch of the journey with a journey feels right.

Oh, and my favorite A story: he invited us to spend some time with him and his wife after a community meal. We agreed to attend the meal, but had to leave after. "We have a lot of dogs and cats," my wife said, "we have to return and care for them."

"We'd love to have you," he said, "but it's a mitzvah, taking care of animals. Do that instead."

Afterward, my wife stared at me in wonderment and said: "I don't think I ever heard that once in church."

#judaism #jewish conversion #jew by choice #jew in progress #jewish convert #jumblr #spain #sephardim #is-the-fire-real original

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 9 months

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So I'll just tell myself all of the things I can't say to you yet (Fic)

Third Chapter here!

Pairing: Ghostflower (Miles x Gwen.)

Chapter: 4/4.

Summary: The plan was easy, get her dad out of the apartment, and made sure Miles didn't see her embarrassing song lyrics about him, nor the rest of things she keeps from him; how wrong could this go?

(What she didn't think, is that sometimes things can go wrong in the best way possible.)

Gwen was mad at herself for still not being able to find a way to get her dad out of the house.

Funnily enough, is not something she ever really had to worry about before the "incident" happened. Despite trying to keep an entire identity a secret, she never had trouble ensuring to do it when her dad wasn't looking or needing to be too careful when coming home; since he was a police officer he did a lot of night shifts, all of them becoming more prominent when he became a Captain.

Is funny how she remembers being bitter about it when she was younger, resenting the number of times her dad called May to look after her when he needed to leave out of nowhere because of work. She becoming grateful about it when she became spider-woman was a surprise, and most of all to miss it now.

"It doesn't help needing to hide a friend was something I definitely never had to deal with," She thought bitterly, as her dad inspected the door she stupidly had tried to use as an excuse.

Her first idea has been to ask if he was going anywhere or if he needed to buy anything; with his new job as a coach he has started to look at places and prices to see what he could ask the university to get and what could be better than what they have; this has somehow reminded him that Gwen asked about getting oil because her squeaking door.

As he inspected the door, Gwen decided to hope he was busy enough to realize Gwen was looking around clearly trying to find something.

That wasn't exactly distressing; knowing how Hobie's watches worked she knew he didn't hop to another dimension because the spectacle those do would have to show up even with a wall in between. The guy was also able to become invisible, though she wasn't sure if he was going to do that with the wounds he had, she hoped he didn't. The possibility of him jumping out of the window is always high with any spidey-person in general.

But she didn't hear the window, which she should have even if she was focused on her dad. Her Spider-sense also was telling her there was a spider-person close, even if it couldn't indicate exactly where; so he wasn't far. There was only one door in her room too, the place wasn't also insanely big; the space below her bed was so small only a cat could get down there, so really the only other place she could think of-

"No," Her eyes fly to the closet, feeling her heart stops as she considers the possibility, "Please tell me he isn't there."

Because she didn't think of him opening the damn closet, she didn't try to cover or hide anything, just left it on the floor of the closet. There is no way he wouldn't see it, goddammit considering they both have excellent night vision for all she knows she may be reading some of her half-made lyrics.

Walking slowly, keeping in mind her dad was still looking at the hinges (he liked to act like he knew what he was doing even with things he had no clue of,) until she was finally in front of the closet. Trying to be casual, she gave one tap to the door,

Ruffled sounds came from the closet, as if someone was fighting her jackets and, pages? (Oh no,) the doors opened a little, as the furniture itself was startled. She thought she saw something fly from the closet as if its contents were trying to go away, and she put her hands to close it shut without a second thought (too much time hiding secrets give you those habits.)

"Gwen?"

She turns to her dad, who has stopped mumbling to himself about AW-04 or something else, and was looking at her mildly concerned and confused.

Trying to play dumb, she said "Oh, I may need to organize my closet better?" She tries to say, probably sounding less convincing than she could.

Because freaking Miles was in her closet, probably looking at her embarrassing crush shit!

Saying Gwen was screaming inside would be an understatement, and yet below the gaze of her father, she just smiles awkwardly and tries to pretend she is not about to lose it.

As she was trying to process that, she didn't look too much into what has escaped from it; yet the fact seemed to have caught the attention of her father. As he walked towards her, she casually positions herself between the closet and him, hoping he wouldn't look there.

Just when Gwen realizes her dad was concentrating on what fell on the floor, the man is kneeling to pick up the first picture of her and Miles, the same one she treasured for months before having new ones.

Her dad arches an eyebrow as he gets up with the Polaroid in hand, and says "You know? With how much you treasure this thing, I would think you would put more effort into safekeeping in a better place."

"Oh this has to be a joke," She thought to herself, imagining what Miles would think if he had the chance to see this pic and realize what her dad means, and the answer was probably more likely than she wanted it to be.

"Treasure seems kind of a strong word, don't you think?" She replied, awkwardly laughing.

Yes, she knows she is doomed, she has a notebook full of his name with way too corny lyrics, pictures, and a plushie; she couldn't look more desperate than that. Miles already had seen enough, he didn't need to hear about how much that photo meant to her.

Sadly, the universe seemed to hate her because her dad refused to accept the dismissal.

"Are you serious?" He says baffled, the rumble of his laughter in the back of his voice "Gwen, you disappeared for months, and the only reason you set foot on this place, aside from not having a way out of this dimension; was to get this picture. You literally ignored my presence, took the Polaroid, and try to leave before I could wake up. If of everything out of this house, this was your primary concern, doesn't that have to mean something?"

"Wow dad, I could almost be impressed you caught all of this, in any other moment EXCEPT THIS." She thought to herself, wanting nothing more than to take a pillow and scream.

The notebook wasn't enough, the pictures weren't enough, and the plushie wasn't enough. No, her dad needed to give a discourse about how much of a goner she was.

Was this how Miles felt when she was in front of his parents? Somehow, she felt she had it worse because at least his mom didn't mention him being so corny as to keep a picture around almost like a charm.

As her dad give her the polaroid (with her keeping it close to her chest as a reflex; honestly most of the time she was very mindful with the photo.) He moved away quickly enough, as she let her head fall down defeated and tired.

"Mmm, I'm kind of hungry, what do you think of getting chinese?"

"NOW is that you find an excuse to leave?" Gwen thought exasperated.

Taking a deep breath to remember she would rather not let her dad see her crush hiding in the closet with probably just half of his clothes; Gwen keeps her composure enough to say "Sure! Sounds good, Do you think you could go and order there directly? You know, less time for the food to get colder."

Knowing exactly what place her dad would go, since they have menus of some of their favourite take-out places; she tried to think of something that could take some extra time since she still wasn't sure if Miles was feeling okay enough to go to his dimension yet, or perhaps crash someone's else.

She may or may not have been reading it from beginning to end just to avoid needing to talk to Miles about, this, but who could say?

Once she decided on her food (with a comment from her dad for taking too long,) she stood at the entrance of the apartment as her dad closed the door behind him, and just on cue, she overheard her closet being opened.

Letting her head go against the door, she thought "Ground swallow me up."

As her indeed, annoying bedroom door squeaked open, she heard Miles say "For the record, my middle name is Gonzalo."

"Great, he read at least one of the songs, wonderful."

As she turned around, she saw Miles leaning on the door frame on his side; he had the notebook in his hands, and he smirked mischievously at her; despite still missing his top and having scratches and bandages.

Sighing, she decides she should get over it, "Look, I know this looks bad-"

"Bad?" He says, a bit shocked, the corners of his lips still up as he moves away from the door and walks to her "Hey, I can't say much, you saw all of those drawings I did-"

"That's different." She scoffed, crossing her arms as she looked to the side.

"Yeah? Why is that?"

"At least you are over me now," She said, sounding more bitter than she would have liked to be.

It was dumb- this was her fault, she pushed him away, and she was the one who lied to him to the point he needed to he ask for space. She couldn't seriously get worked up about this.

"Beg your pardon?"

Okay, Gwen didn't really want to look Miles, not wanting to make things worse for herself. However the tone of voice he used caught her attention.

When she looked back at him, just a few feet away from her with the notebook closed; he was looking at her like he needed to make sure his ears were actually working.

Blinking, she bites the bullet "You asked me to give you a few months to be away so you could, process everything? And then I was just one of the spidey-gang to you? What I am missing here?"

Almost in slow-motion, his eyes opened wildly, before running a hand through his hair "So Margo and Hobie weren't exaggerating with me acting differently- I know I was able to tone it down a lot but I didn't think I was playing it off that well."

"Playing it off- Wait, so you mean-"

"I have feelings for you?" The words came almost like a laugh out of Miles, shaking his head "Sorry, is just- after acting like a lovesick puppy around you, and what you told me when we saw each other again, and the after; I thought it would have better to try to move on, not that I ever did. My love for you never went away."

My love for you never went away.

Something about those words made her heart flutter in excitement; she wanted to bask in that feeling, to think of what those words meant.

But she was good at keeping track of the unspoken things in a conversation, as well as keeping an eye on things that would make her miserable.

"Wait, what did I say to you?"

"The bit with Gwen and Spider-man not working out? I thought you well, preferred not to risk it; that was the last time we hinted at the topic."

As the memory of her time in the organization, her old loyalties, and what she did, she felt as if a bucket of cold water dropped on top of her, drowning the previous happiness she was feeling moments ago. With her mouth suddenly feeling dry, she didn't think of a response before Miles was talking again.

"I didn't think you would feel like this- Well, or friends try to tell me about it, if only to push me to move things forward; I thought you just wanted to be friends."

"How could you think that, as if I'm not constantly doing dumb shit because of the exact opposite?" She thought to herself.

Except, she knew exactly why.

Feeling more bitter by the second, she let out a laugh, as her hands formed into first. She was doing it again.

She was doing it all fucking again, wasn't it?

"Gwen?"

"Is just stupid," She says angrily, not bothering to clarify if it was the situation, or her; truth being told, it was both. "I told you that, because I thought it was part of one of the canon events."

"Oh."

"Yeah, those;" She agreed; one of the things they ended up doing while trying to sort the mess after the HQ fiasco, was to realize that canon events weren't really a thing. It was a bunch of complicated crap that she couldn't dwell on right now, but she couldn't believe she had fallen for it too; and had stood aside when Miles has needed her. "But honestly? I mean, I am almost not surprised that I'm doing it again."

"Wait, do what?"

Gwen didn't face Miles, she couldn't take it; not when she was this angry, not when she felt the tears try to build in her eyes as she felt the impulse to throw something. "What I always do, mess things up!

"Miles, hear yourself out," She said, sounding almost maniacally out of the sheer desperation she was feeling "You thought this, for a stupid comment I said. You forced yourself to act differently around me because you thought I was feeling uncomfortable.

"And now look at this!" Turning around, she pointed at the door where her dad had left "I needed to hide you out, I was trying to find an excuse for my dad to leave; because somehow I couldn't find a way of saying 'Hey dad! My friend got injured on a mission! Do you mind if I help patch him up?' No, I try to make a circus because I didn't want him or you to know about this.

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg, that isn't even talking about the messed up things I did! Do you want to know, how many nights I was awake for months, thinking if I had perhaps, just perhaps told my dad about my identity at the right moment, could I have talked about it with him accepting me, instead of him trying to point a gun at me because I waited to the last possible second?

"Want to know what happened to Peter, to my best friend?" Her voice broke at his name, because her heart knew when she meant B and when she meant him, "He tried to become the lizard trying to be like me Miles, because I prioritized being Spider-woman instead of a good friend; and want to know the worst part of it?" She let the words linger, if it was for Miles benefit, or her own cowardice, well, who was to say? "He knew it was me, he said my name, and he tried to take my mask off, to tell me everything was going to be okay."

Gwen hated the feeling of hot tears coming down her cheeks, how she didn't want to try to open her eyes knowing she would just cry so much she would not see straight. The words continue coming out without her permission, the desperate cry she tried to keep hidden for so long was finally coming out, and would do it regardless if she wanted or not.

"I didn't let him," she admitted, ashamed "When he said my name, I try to play dumb, I took his hand away from my mask. My best friend was dying in front of me, and to the last bitter end, I try to keep him at bay, to keep him away from my secret identity. And the last time I saw him alive I was using a mask that only let me see so much, and he couldn't see my face as he wanted. I denied my best friend his dying wish."

It was so fucked up, she was just so messed up.

"I just, keep doing this," She shakes her head, not believing to which degree she would go with this "I didn't say anything to you, to the point I was driving you away. I pretended I could keep my feelings at bay by writing half-baked songs and keeping anything that reminded me of you; but all I did was to do more stupid things trying to hide it. It doesn't matter how many times this keeps happening, I just don't seem to learn my lesson.

"Is not fair," She says as if it doesn't sound childish, the pleas of a girl who is acting as if the reason for her suffering wasn't her own fault, "Is not fair to my dad that even when he is trying, I can't seem to want to bridge the gap. It wasn't fair to Peter that I pushed him away until the bitter end. And is not fair that you need to try to bend backwards, all because I can't seem to open up, because I prefer to write notes rather than tell you to your face that I love you!"

"I'm not-" She couldn't finish the sentence, before more tears came out of her, as she finally couldn't hold it anymore.

God, why she was like this? She just, couldn't.

It didn't matter if it was her dad, her best friend, or her crush- it all happened the same way. She would get afraid, keep something she shouldn't keep, and it would explode in her face. It didn't even need to be someone close to her, what did she do before? Lying to Jessica about the mission so she could go to Earth-1610? Try to keep her whereabouts away from Miguel?

Gwen could be spiderwoman, but there was one part of her she hated with all her being, the one she couldn't seem to shake. Because deep down, she knew she was a coward.

And she didn't deserve the people in her life.

She didn't deserve a father who as flawed as he was, was trying to do the right for her as she keep lies on top of lies. Her friends didn't deserve someone who keep everyone at bay, to the point she tend to pout her feelings more on lyrics than actually speaking about it.

And Miles deserved better than a girl who could only say I love you after admitting it would be better for everyone in her life to leave her. Yet all she could do now was this, cry pathetically after everything she had tried to keep down has refused to disappear.

It was truly a shame how Gwen view herself, as Miles was seeing this in a completely different light.

The smile has been wiped from his face, as he had put the notebook on the table; he felt his own mouth go dry as he watched the girl he loved sobbing for the weight of her own guilt.

Miles knew she was reserved; heck, Margo and Hobie had commented on it, being the reason why they had told him to be the one to do the first step. They didn't think Gwen would try it.

But he doubted they understood to which degree this has affected her.

"Is not fair," He has agreed with her on something, and that it wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair to carry all of this on your shoulders, to keep quiet about so much. Looking at Gwen, he couldn't help but feel his own heart break "She looks so small."

Gwen was someone he has always admired; from her fighting skills to her quick thinking, she has seemed like the most put-together on their original rag-tag team of Spideys when all of this started for him. Despite being his age, she stood her ground, has been able to hide and adapt better than Peter B and the others; and seemed always in control.

Right now she was hunching, her body facing the side as she herself was ashamed of her feelings and was trying to hide it from Miles, her hands covering her face. She wasn't the badass girl that has hastily told him he didn't get to like his haircut. She was so much more than that.

He wouldn't call her weak, definitely not for this; not for being human. But it reminded him that below the calm, collected mask, was a real person underneath.

As she cried her heart out, she seemed like a normal girl, a stressed-out teenage girl. Because at the end of the day, everyone has their breaking points; Miles just wished he could have been able to do something about it before.

"I may not be able to do something before, but I can for now," thought to himself, as he walked up to her.

While he tenderly touched her shoulder, she went rigid; as if she hasn't expected or heard him come; spiders tended to be that silent.

"Hey," He greeted softly, even if Gwen still had her face covered. Gently, his hand hovered on top of one of hers, fingertips touching softly so as to not impose "Can I?"

Can I see your face? Can I wipe your tears? Can I be the one you lend on?

He wasn't sure what to ask, letting the question open for all the things he wanted to say, to do for her; it was about time that he did so without fear.

She seemed frozen, yet slowly, she moved her hands away. Her eyes were red and puffy, her button nose was also a tone pink he couldn't help but think it was cute, traces of tears were on her cheeks, and more were building on her eyes; however she was still quiet, as if she was containing herself.

He didn't want her to do that ever again.

"Is okay," He told her kindly, as his hand fell on her cheek, cleaning the tears; all moving slowly, giving her the chance to reject it or move away if she needed; she didn't. "Is okay if you are still sad too."

"What are you doing?" She said instead, obtuse.

"Being here for you," He answered without missing a beat, casually wiping away the tears from her other eye, while his other hand still rested on her cheek, "As I wanted to do for a long time."

"Is my-"

"No," he refutes still, not letting her finish the sentence "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It doesn't- Miles, look at this, look at yourself, it keeps happening, I keep doing this." She said with bile, as if she couldn't stand herself at this moment; her gaze going to the side as if even while so close she refused to see him out of anger, "None of you deserve this, I don't deserve-"

"No," he repeats again, adamant.

Scoffing, Gwen says "Miles, cutting me off doesn't change reality."

"It does because it isn't real," he affirms confidently, or perhaps stubbornly; "Not for me, I refuse to accept it."

"You cannot do that."

"You were about to say you don't deserve me?" He pointed out, with her going quiet "To say you don't deserve your dad, or Peter, or the gang? It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?"

"Because none of us were ever here because we thought we 'deserved' you," He told her straight to the point, his voice firm, before dropping softly "Is because we love you."

She went quiet, looking at the ground but not fighting him anymore.

"Gwen, I don't know who forgot to tell you this, but we aren't here for you because we think we deserve someone like you in our life, we do it because we like being around you, for who you are." He said as he moved a strand of hair away, seeing his face better as she was lifting her head and finally, looking at him. Despite everything, her eyes looked so fearful.

"Even as she looks like she wants to fall apart, she is so beautiful," He thought to herself.

Even with her eyes swollen, looking like she wanted to shut down; she was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. From her piercings to the watercolor eyes and her tooth gap, he had always remembered to draw (he didn't want an idealized version of her, he wanted to draw her as she was.) As long as it was her, it didn't matter the situation, she would shine.

This wasn't the time to dwell on that, but he would remember to tell her that later, and probably again. He didn't want to keep things hidden anymore, especially not when this mess has partially happened because he also didn't try to talk things over. He also had experience in messing up that way.

"You aren't the only one who has kept secrets they shouldn't," Miles said somberly, gathering Gwen's attention as her eyes opened slightly in confusion and surprise. Is funny, considering she knew about this; "You remember that I lost my uncle, right? Holding his hand in his last moments; and I couldn't talk to anyone about it."

"Miles that wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't," He accepted, and has done for a while. It took him time to realize that; he hopes Gwen realizes that in her own situation too eventually; "How do you think, my dad felt when he realized I kept his lasts words to myself for over a year?"

Gwen stood there in surprise, while Miles himself let that sink as he felt the bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. He still remembers his father's melancholic face, as he took in what his brother said, the grief he still had about the subject, as well as the pain that Miles deprived him of this information for this long.

Miles knew his parents understood that he has been afraid, in all honesty, part of him wished they could have been harsher at him; he would take his dad's anger any day of the week over the disappointment and betrayal those news has been for him. But they were working on it, they were doing their better to talk and understand each other better, even if it wasn't always easy.

He was thankful to them for teaching him that, now more than ever as he consoled Gwen.

"I messed up," He admitted, freely, as he looked into her eyes "In more ways than one, and that wasn't the only time. It happens."

"But I keep doing it-"

"Then try again," He said immediately, softly and without judgment.

Which was all he found in Gwen's gaze as she said "Why? Why would you trust me with that? What makes you think I would not do this again?"

He wouldn't, not that it was the point, he trusted her that much. But there was something about this conversation that brought into mind something Margo mentioned; how Gwen's feelings for him couldn't have been a secret for what she did. Now that he knows how she feels about him, that day feels like it has gained an entirely new meaning.

Yet there was still something he needed to know.

"What you were supposed to do, when we saw each other again?"

"What?"

"That day, when the Spot ended up opening another hole in the multiverse- What were you supposed to do that day in my dimension?"

Looking at him completely at loss, she says "Miles what has this to do with anything?"

"I will tell you once you answer me."

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes before whispering to herself 'fuck it, what difference does make it now.' Taking a deep breath, she says "Spot ended up traveling to a bunch of dimensions on a dime, almost by accident; we caught a whiff of what was going on when he was back in Earth 1610. The original plan was only to monitor him, since he was back in his own dimension; my mission was to watch over him and made sure he couldn't do his hole trick again."

"And, you weren't supposed to see me at all."

Shaking her head, she says "Miguel didn't want to involve you at all, he even had his reservations about me because, you know," She gestured to both of them- wait does that mean Miguel somehow put two and two together about them before Miles even registered it? "Jess was the one who gave me the mission, she trusted me more than Miguel did. But she didn't want to involve you either, if it was for her I would have been hidden below that bridge the entire time until I needed to interfere."

But that was not what she did, she opened the portal to his room; before even realizing it was his room. She was given a mission to keep the lunatic scientist from traveling to other dimensions as he pleased (though none of them realized how dangerous he could be back then,) and what she did was to get to him as soon as she was able and hug him.

As a grin started to appear on his face, Gwen scoffed "Yeah yeah, you can laugh; it was dumb."

"No- I mean, I don't think so;" Could prioritizing seeing someone you had missed over the safety of the multiverse be called dumb? Maybe, would have Miles done things differently had he been in Gwen's shoes? Not in a million years. "I'm just, happy to hear that."

"What, letting a nutjob get away by being too desperate?"

"If it helps, I would have done the same for you in a heartbeat." He says earnestly, still cradling her face as the tears finally started to disappear; even if it was because the topic was less upsetting for her. As he saw her annoyance leave her face, he said "But don't you get it? You were doing it already."

"Doing what?"

"Showing how you feel."

"..."

"Think about it," He says with a smile, remembering that day "You came to see me, and hug me before I even had the chance to register you were here. You spend as much time as you could with me until the watch told you something happened. And then when we saw Margo well, looking back you weren't subtle."

Clicking her tongue, she quickly replies "Okay, at least half the reason for that was Peni-"

"What?"

As if she realized she had said too much, she moves her hand dismissively, "Nevermind."

He probably wouldn't, this reminded him of some things Hobie was talking about before- maybe he should talk to Margo later, if only to find a way to return the favor.

"My point is, all of that was there," He reminds her, going back on topic, "When we were seating in the Tower, I thought you didn't want to be more because of what you say, and somehow didn't think of all the other little things you were doing. Even if you say you have a problem talking things out, you always find a way to show it, right?"

Her lips formed a tight line, unconvinced, and replies "That's not good enough."

"I mean, you can do this," With his hand that is not on her cheek, he takes her own, giving it a tender squeeze, "You just did it, too; you told me what was wrong."

"I didn't have much of a choice."

"You could just say you didn't want to talk about it," he shrugs nonchalantly "You certainly didn't need to tell me about how you feel about your dad, or Peter; but you still did, you are still trusting me that much."

Gwen seemed to want to find a rebuttal, but any words died in her throat, and Miles didn't give her much of a chance before saying.

"Is okay, if is still tough, if you have trouble opening up, all this means is that you just need to continue trying, and we need to remind you that we are here for you, one way or another."

Even after all of this back and forth, it seemed like there was something holding her back, almost like even with Miles telling her it was okay, she couldn't let herself believe it. Without more arguments, she asks a softly, defeated "Why?" She whispers to him "Why after all I told you, after all I did, you still want to be here?"

That has to be the easiest question he has answered all night.

"Because I love you."

He had implied that much before, but hadn't said it yet, funnily enough Gwen technically beat him to the punch earlier in the middle of her rant. If they could talk things out, make this right- he hoped he could get to say it a lot more.

"When I was hiding before, I was thinking about that; how long I had feelings for you, but rather than these feelings changing because of the distance and what happened between us, I realized I just found new ways to love you. To realize there is a lot more than the badass hero I met initially, to love being around you regardless if we are on the suit or not. I saw your lyrics, the pictures, and the plushie, and not even once I thought I was mad at you for keeping this away from me, I was just so happy.

"You used to do ballet, until you needed to leave because Spider-people don't have a good track record with being on time or being there when needed. You had been hitting things with your hands for so long your dad decided to get you a drum set. The first time I saw you fight, you were so swift and well pulled together it made me wish I could train you if only to hope to get half the ability you have.

"You have a tendency to gravitate around people, hitting a shoulder, leaning on someone, hugs- sometimes I think you try to hold those impulses more than you let on" To that comment she suddenly looked to the side, oh he was going to remember that for later, "You remember little things, like how I like to draw, or the name of my parents; even if I don't think I told them their names more than once.

"You are caring, fierce, and once you know what the right thing is you would fight the world and back for it." He continues his praises to the unbelieved gaze of Gwen, that seemed dumbfounded at the idea that he was saying all of this; as if he didn't think that every time he laid his eyes on her. "You are impulsive, a tad reckless, and hold on too much.

"And I love that, because I love you, with all the caveats and falls;" He explains, moving just a bit closer, wanting her to directly look at him and see in his gaze how much she means to him "I didn't fall for you because I thought I deserved you, I just did. It doesn't matter the pain, the misunderstandings, or whatever spidey shenanigans we end up; I still want this, I want to be with you."

Gwen has never been the most expressive person, trying to keep her feelings to herself out of self-preservation. Yet finally after all of this, she was smiling at him, it was small with the tips of her lips just going a bit up, but this one time he saw her eyes shine at him and didn't think he was making it up.

Getting a step closer, their faces inches away from each other, leaving enough space for her to still say no and take a step back "I want to be there for you when you are angry but you don't want to talk about it, when you are sad and you don't know what to do, I want to take you to dates and I want you to get mad at me if I mess up because I would rather have you talking than you hiding from me. I want to go out with you and get to hear all the things you never talk about, good or bad.

"Can I do that? Can I go out with you? To give us a chance?"

Gwen laughs, the same type of laugh he needed to try to contain earlier. As she giggles her face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen on her, she looks at him as if she can't believe it; "I don't know how you keep doing it, but you always find the right thing to say."

He smiles at her, and as he looks at her lips, he looks back at her eyes knowing they are way too close for her to not notice that "So, is that a yes-"

"Please," As he hears the laughter in her voice, she takes a step further and kisses him, throwing herself as she put her arms around his shoulders.

Grabbing her waist as he makes sure they don't fall (and kept to himself a groan as the wounds in his back didn't particularly like holding weight all of the sudden,) it only took him a second before he kissed her back. The faint sting of paint wavered as he felt her warm against him, her lips were soft and he tasted the salt of her own tears and took it away as he reciprocated.

The smell of her shampoo filled him as he felt his chest explode in ecstasy, a long dream becoming true yet nothing could have ever prepared for it. No fantasy or dream could ever come close to the feeling of finally having the woman he loved kissing him, hugging him as if the world was about to end.

Even if Gwen wasn't saying anything, just as always, her feelings shine in her actions. The longing for a kiss they both had wanted for so long, the softness of her touch as she tried to be mindful of his back, the want she felt as after breaking apart to breathe she didn't take more time than she needed before kissing him again, showing all those feelings she wanted to keep at bay.

It was a few minutes before they finally stop, Gwen putting her forehead against his.

"So," He says, a bit hazy, the kissing may have messed up with his brain a bit but he was not complaining, "I guess that's a yes on being my girlfriend?"

Chuckling, he can't help but notice that he likes the sound of her laugh just as much as he likes feeling it as they hug, basking in her happiness like a sunflower following the sun "I will be mad if I wasn't."

"Cool"

"Cool," She repeats at him.

And then, out of nowhere an outside voice says "Cool, can I come in now?"

"DAD?!" Gwen screeches as detangles herself from him so quickly he hastily grabs the wall; yeah just because he pretended to be fine didn't mean he was. "What are you doing!?"

"Well, I was calling the restaurant to tell them the order on my way there, and they said the restaurant was packed and it was going take way longer than what I was expecting. I was going to ask if you wanted something else when I heard screaming and figure you didn't want me to be involved."

Gwen's shoulders drop, letting a tired sigh as she said "How much did you hear?"

"Not much, once I heard you talk about Peter and ah, what happened, I went outside to take a short walk, and now I just came back after hearing a bunch of cools, if there anything you want me to know?"

Miles's attention picked at that; not a 'what's going on' or 'what happened,' but directly asking if there was anything she was okay with sharing. Perhaps he has been aware of this issue more than Gwen gave him credit for.

He saw her tense, probably stressed out about what to do; so taking a couple of steps until he was right beside her, he took her hand and says "Hey, whatever you want to do, I'm here in your corner, okay?"

Gwen seemed surprised, before smiling back at him as she squeezed his hand "Thank you."

This was obviously, going to be a long road. The fears Gwen had were bigger than Miles, something more problematic and difficult than just a nice speech and a few kisses; but he was ready to do it all for her.

Because Spider-man doesn't has a 'The End,' just a 'to be continued', and he wanted to see what a route to her beside him would look like.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Oh man how the fuck I made this so goddamn long. This was going on for so long that I almost thought of adding another chapter, but no, I'm done; I have other things to work on. A big chunk of this chapter was written after I had seen the barbie movie, writing a good part on it with a lack of sleep and hearing "What I was made for" on loop at 2 am in the morning, and I think it shows. It wasn't written in one go but boy it wasn't without penance. Even if a lot of this was fueled by existentialism and other things that are illegal in other countries, I don't think this fic was ever going to get a happy, fluffy ending without some angst thrown at it. Aside from the fact that if you look at my other works this is the least surprising thing coming from me, this story has been about it even before I decided it wasn't a one-shot anymore. The fact that Gwen would go to absurd lengths to keep things a secret rather than having a mildly awkward conversation is present ever since the second chapter, and as easy as it could have been "We are both idiots how the fuck we put two and two together," that's not how I roll. I would apologize, but nah, this is my story after all, and it wouldn't be mine without someone losing their shit because believe they aren't good enough or something. I think that's all, I need to eat something (is 3:30 but I refused to eat until this was over,) and do other crap. If you like it please leave a comment and kudos! This story wouldn't have passed the first chapter without them.

#ghostflower #gwiles #miles morales #gwen stacy #fanfics #atsv #across the spiderverse

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peachjagiya · 11 days

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Hello hello.

I recently discovered your blog and I like it very much. I love they way you express your opinion and the way you explain things to make your point.

To be honest, I am a baby army. Started listening BTS at the beginning of this year (I KNOW, what the f was I doing before? No fucking clue ugh!). This also makes me a new Taekook stand, which can be super overwhelming. Reading you blog helps puts things into perspective but I still have a few questions and I would like to know your opinion (sorry if you’ve talked about this before!) I have a lot to catch up on in terms. And find to this, social media edits do not help. They are very biased to say the least

Anyway, on to the questions.

1. When do you think Taekook became a couple? From what I’ve seen and felt, I felt a change in 2020 in the dynamic of everything. This being the videos posted, the run bts episodes, the interviews … I might be wrong but I felt a shift then and wanted to know your opinion.

2. In terms of group dynamics, how do you think the other members feel in terms of Taekook? Like I try to put myself in their shoes and it must be hard to have a good dynamic if they have couple’s fights and things like that…

3. In terms on Fan Service, I can’t help but feel bad when Tae has to witness the constant push of FS between JK and Jimin and unable to express or do anything about it. What do you think about the maknae line’s dynamic in regards to this?

There’s so much information out here sometimes I find myself doubting that they’re actually together but then I witness some instances that brings back my faith.

Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to answer. I appreciate it. Sorry if my questions are all over the place, my thoughts themselves are all over the place with this subject and I CANT SLEEEPPPP!

Bear with, it’s going to be a long one!

I’m baby army too. A year now. I just happen to be the kind of person who goes all in and devours content.

Social media edits are so discombobulating for new fans. I definitely found myself falling for some edits that I no longer consider. Fake subtitles, slow motion moments that aren’t actually moments, quora rumours… it’s a lot. I still have to remind myself what’s factual and what’s a rumour I read on a K-pop prediction Twitter. It’s a minefield. I’ve found tumblr quite useful because there’s a lot of people here who can put things into context and clarify and provide the perspective of army who were there at the time. I hope you look at my comments because that’s where the real sense is!

I wrote a timeline but my thoughts have evolved a bit. I think basically they’ve always been circling each other, always been interested but a combination of hormones and the massiveness of pursuing a relationship they’re societally or business-ly discouraged from having created a lot of shifting and drama. I think maybe early confessions, kissing, all that young love stuff might have occurred here.

I’ve been reading some really interesting thoughts and having great discussion about the various members relationship with the company and how this plays with Taekook.

The conclusion I keep coming to, based only on my reading of it, is that Tae seems to be a rebel with strong will to prioritise his heart, company be damned, but JK seems to be more inclined to follow his head despite his heart being huge and loud. His heart wins more and more though and that’s why you get this on and off vibe of the first half of their ten years.

2018 feels pivotal in that both of them hit a wall of pressure and seemed to separate off into a distinct unit. They get each other, they’re each others self-confessed safe space. They’re united even when the rest of the members aren’t getting through. I’m less convinced now that this was a getting together - maybe a resolve to work through complicated stuff together though.

I’d agree 2020 is a shift and that’s where I’d place it. I’m about to get overwrought but I’m thinking about it a bit lately: Think about like pandemic and the impact that had on the whole world. Suddenly work isn’t the most important thing, suddenly a shift in everyone’s priorities. I know a few people who, despite the scariness of it, actually found they were able to breathe and reassess. I decided to move my entire life back to my hometown and quit my job, very heart over head decision. I wonder if this enforced period of quiet let them reassess too. BTS Monuments shows Tae quiet and alone at home but a jacket that looks like JKs in the back. Maybe they saw each other without the intense workload. Time to talk, time to just be them and see how that worked. And hiatus/chapter two might just be a natural continuation of that. JK seems as goal oriented as ever but braver at prioritising himself and Tae seems to be the same and maybe for the first time their ambitions in heart and head are aligned which lets them move forward more smoothly.

I have a feeling it’s a professional minefield but personally that’s just their best friends in love. Maybe it makes their life a little harder to have a secret to hide but I don’t think they’d resent them. I bet they all have things they need to hide. From what they’ve said, I think Jimin might have been really entwined in it. He’s a natural carer, protective of them both. He’s often first on the scene when Tae is sad and he’s often implied he’s been there when Tae has been crying.

As for couple fights, I think about that post-Tokyo intense awkwardness between Tae and JK where they’re visibly annoyed with each other. That’s one time when it seemed the other guys were involved a little. They just seemed hyper aware of the awkward but kind of eyerolly. The thing about teens and early twenties is that you think everyone wants to know your drama. I’d imagine with maturity, they probably keep fights between themselves.

On an amusing side thought, I’ve seen two videos of potential times of discontent between Tae and JK where Yoongi has given the impression of being quietly in Tae’s corner. I think those two get each other in a really low key way that I find quite lovely.

I think it’s had an impact but not where you’d expect. The TikTok edits would have you believe Tae is seething in the corner but I don’t know if that’s entirely true. I have seen video of him seemingly rolling his eyes after laughing at Jimin and JK but it seemed notable because of how isolated it was? He is quite good at a poker face though, right? He bides his time and fills in the real details eventually. Again this is only my sense but I feel a little awkwardness between JK and Jimin over it now it’s happening less? Any time you’re expected to pretend anything is a massive mental drain on anyone. But equally, they’ve entered the buddy system together and I’m assuming that hasn’t been forced on them? So hopefully they just remain close and the fan service was all strictly business for them. Maybe I’m just imagining that they seem weird with each other.

There’s so much information out here sometimes I find myself doubting that they’re actually together but then I witness some instances that brings back my faith.

The universal Taekook experience. 😂 it’s natural to doubt. It feels too good to be true.

Thank you for lovely words and great questions, anon 💜

#my asks #taekook

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chris-continues · 1 year

Note

Random ideas:

Mermaid knives? 👀

Escape room together with Nai?

Clothing shopping with Nai? Maybe make him try goofy stuff for fun :>

What color wax do u think Nai would use the most for wax seals? I have a wax seal kit and I thought I'd try makin something that would be atleast similar to what Nai would make

Do u think he would ride a motorcycle?

(Sorry if this is alot.....)

Omg I want to answer all of these time for a load of hcs heehehhehheheh

Random Knives HC’s

So I couldn’t come up w much for mermaid au, but escape room Knives will plague my mind since I’ve been to an escape room once and I loved it.

Escape room

-he’d think they’re overpriced and whatever but Vash knows he likes murder mystery stuff.. so he supposes he can indulge him

-he actually gets kinda into it but tries to hide it LMAO

-Vash will take him again to like celebrate smth (like passing an important exam or getting an internship somewhere he was really looking forward to) and they take you with them

-you get into it too and Vash helps to keep track of clues while you guys solve it

-you’re on his mind even moreso after that- your excited face after you found a clue, or a new lead, or how you peered over his shoulder cautiously to see what puzzle he was solving.. god.

-yeah the pining continues

Clothing shopping

-Nai doesn’t like shopping for brand new things- having to start adulthood far too early in poverty meant that he had to find cheaper ways to access necessities. Such as clothes

-hence why knives loves thrifting. He’s a goodwill god, if I do say so myself

-imagine sifting through racks together and you find a goofy sweater for him. (You suggest he wears it and he scoffs- good naturedly, but with a bit of playful fire nonetheless).

-you find some cute things while he’s looking for whatever he needs- usually not much, however on occasion he needs more professional wear, or he’s looking for Vash

-I do think you’d mostly be sifting through clothes in minimal silence- he brings his headphones to listen to a podcast. You’re listening to the same one, he has excellent taste :)

-you brush forearms as you shop, shuffling beside one another awkwardly in the cramped area of the aisles, faces a bit flushed from your proximity

-guess what? The pining continues

-thrifting is something that brings you both comfort when not outside your home though. It’s a routine that happens in your relationship- when you’re both in a shopping mood, that is. In happenstance, if you feel like spending the day in and Knives has to run errands, he will definitely look for you more. This shirt reminds him of you, or those shoes. You’d like that.

Romantic letters

- @coffinbeananteiku (aka Sam) is the one that came up w/ the wax seal color hcs!

-she mentioned that Knives would overthink the color meanings and end up choosing either black or white (I’ve mentioned it once on my blog I think) but definitely give them a follow! I love her ideas a ton :D

-for my own thoughts? Knives loves the flow of writing in cursive. He almost never does on schoolwork, to make grading easier and neater, and he usually types anyways

-but his handwriting is elegant and direct in its own way, complimenting the utter devotion in his words as he writes to you. It’s easier for him to piece his thoughts out delicately onto the table before placing them onto the paper, sealing it once he’s read it 2-3 times (or more) and leaving it at your doorstep- as is routine for whenever he drops off letters.

Motorcycle?

-BWANAHAJAJAHAHAHAAH *cackles* no of course not/lh

-you think after he lost his only parental figure and his brother having lasting health conditions + the loss of an arm to a car accident, he’d be adamant on nothing as dangerous as a motorcycle

-you are in fact correct in that assumption

-Wolfwood rides a motorcycle though, Vash rides with him. And when Knives caught wind of the news, he was furious. How could Vash be so reckless?

-It’s weeks before Knives fully cools down, but it’s got a lasting effect on him. He needs alone time. For several days. He’s enraged.

-once he finally talks to Vash he’s biting his cheek roughly, hands grasping the arm of the couch tightly. “You do know it’s dangerous, correct?”

-“And I know you care-“

-“I do.”

-it’s a disagreement that Vash knows is plenty reasonable from his brother, and it never fully simmers.

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elmundodeflor · 4 months

Text

In the span of 10 years, Hanji writes Levi one letter for each birthday they spend together.

"12 Things I Never Told You" pays homage to his and Hanji's bond through space and time, and depicts the loving light in which they saw him.

You can read the full fic and 12 letters here, on AO3.

In the meantime, here's one of the letters for you to check out;

Levi,

When I gave you the tea-can earlier, the look on your face could have only meant two things:

1) "This must have been expensive as hell."

2) "You're batshit crazy for spending on it."

I told you, though! I wasn't gonna throw you a birthday party, but you had to expect a gift from me, at least. I like going all out!

Anyways, it was a nice surprise that you came down the lab with two mugs instead of one. And that you talked about your mother.

You told me that you had this same tea-can at home, in the Underground. And that your mom had gotten it for trade from one of her clients that lived up here. Your entire face softened when you mentioned her— how graceful she was. It was like seeing sugar melting on the stove.

Of course, I didn't ask— if she's alive, or what happened to her. I didn't mean to be intrusive. But the way you spoke in past-tense... oh, I'm sorry, Levi. I'm so, so sorry. Really. If she was anything quite like you, then I'm sure she was a wonderful woman.

To be honest, I don't know either— whether my mom's alive or not. You see, I never talk about this for a reason. I ran away from home when I was fourteen. My parents were... well, let's just say... not good people. I was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked too many questions. They most definitely did not like that.

My grandpa was the closest thing I ever had to a father, or a friend. He did die, though. He was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked as many questions as I did. I guess, back then, it not only made my parents uncomfortable, but the Military Police as well...

It was the reason I joined the Survey Corps, you know? You may not believe this, but I was once full of rage, too. I'm just lucky I could turn it into something better— passion, purpose. I'm certainly not proud of how it used to be. You should have seen me, all those years ago; shouting down the hallways, kicking titans' heads... I just hope you never get to see it again. If you do, I'm scared you might never look at me the same, and that I never forgive myself for it.

I have no clue how you do it, though— carry yourself through life. Back then, if they'd given me the names of the fuckers who took my grandpa, I'd have killed them on the spot. You, on the other hand, (and I know you'll get mad at me for saying this) are gentle. If you wanted to, you could break necks with a single blow. Or seek revenge towards the world for what it's done to you. But you choose not to. You actively, every day, choose not to.

Yeah, yeah, you probably don't like me reminding you of all this. But you're kind, Levi. You stay in the lab with me while I’m working, and you trust me enough to tell me about your mother. And you share this expensive-ass-tea I bought for you.

You're a good person. Much better than I'll ever be. I know you don’t think that you are, and that you worry others may also think that you’re not. But it’s true— you’re a good man.

See? It doesn't even matter I spent half my budget on this! (You’ve been warned, you won’t ever hear a word about it). You deserve to have nice things, little one. Also, it was pretty neat to hear that tiny hum of satisfaction you made when you drank from your cup. I know not many things surprise you nowadays, either. So, I'll take my pride in knowing I did— HA!

Hope you had a good night. And that you had a great birthday— yeah, that too!

Happy you're with me for another year.

See you around,

Hanji x

P.S: Thank you for the tea. Literally the best one I had!

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Text

Sebek, Trey: Sugar Sweet and Bitter Step

Finally 👀 Sebek interacting with the dude that reminds him of his father… This is the juicy content I’ve been waiting for 😌 (It fucking slapped btw, did NOT disappoint 🦷 ✨ I especially loved when Sebek was describing the new candies he has tried and he describes pop rocks as candies that fucking attack you asduqbdoas) ASHDBAIDAIDqwehqbyoe8y IT WAS REALLY CUTE WHEN MALLEUS, LILIA, CATER, AND VIL'S VAS WISHED SEBEK-KUN HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN THE TWST YEAR III ANNI LIVESTREAM...

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you do on your days off?”

"Hmph, I'm glad you asked, human!" Sebek's laughter was smug and resounding. "I spend days off training!"

"You... train to relax? That sounds like an oxymoron."

The birthday boy scoffed. "As a knight and an attendant, there is no such thing as 'relaxing'! I must remain vigilant so as to best protect and serve the young master!!"

"I get that, but... your muscles would be sore after working out so much, right? You'd need to take some time off to recover, otherwise you'd be pushing your body to the brink and risk injuring yourself," Trey calmly pointed out. "I used to train back when I played soccer. Had to cut that short when I worked myself too hard, so I wouldn't want that to happen to you."

A sound like rumbling thunder collected in Sebek's throat. "O-Of course I know something as basic as that! I know to take breaks!! Don't belittle me, human!!

"When I say 'training', I don't mean it purely in a physical capacity! If I am not able to train my body, then I train my mind! As Lilia-sama says, tactical might has changed the course in many critical battles in the history of--"

"Oooh, I get it. You mean general self-improvement." His interviewer snapped his fingers as the clues all neatly fit together in his head. "So you like to read? What sorts of things do you usually go for?"

"A variety. I frequent the Mystery Shop to browse their selection, but Diasomnia and the school archives also contain a number of older volumes.

"Lilia-sama has advised that I expand my worldview, so I have taken it upon myself to read literature from many genres and eras. 'Even picture books have merit, Sebek! You should open your heart to them!' ... so he said."

"No kidding." Trey raised his brows. It certainly sounds like something Lilia would say... though I'm not sure how serious he was about it. "Hey, I've read some books to my little brother and sister before, so I could recommend a few to you."

"Picture books from the Queendom of Roses... I've yet to read those. I dislike having to make requests of others, but... on Lilia-sama's orders, I have no other option. You will provide a list of acceptable readings to me the day after today, understood?!"

"Sure, leave it to me." Trey offered a patient smile. "I gotta say though, I didn't think you'd be concerned about being so worldly. You seem a little too set in your own ways."

Ace and Deuce described him as hard-headed. Even Riddle said Sebek has a hard time handling horses in Equestrian Club because of his attitude.

Sebek looked as though he'd be struck in the heart. He recoiled, his face crumpling with upset.

"Hnngh!! I-I've heard as much from Lilia-sama that this would be a detriment if I am to serve the young master, who will no doubt face many diplomatic issues with other countries. That is why I'm making efforts to expand my horizons by diversifying my reading materials and experiencing new things."

"Such as...?"

"I have read in some texts that a good way to learn about other cultures is to consume their cuisine. I have taken to snacking on baked goods and sweets from different regions of Twisted Wonderland to this end. Cookies, muffins, and candies that the Mystery Shop stocks.

"There are lollipops in various shapes, candy so sour it makes your mouth bleed and colors it bright blue, and little granular candies that assault the taste buds with explosions when they hit your tongue...! Hard candies flavored with apples from different farms in Harveston, chewy taffies made with salt from the Coral Sea, gummy bugs from the Afterglow Savanna that gets stuck between my teeth, candied flowers from the Queendom of Roses..."

"Has the snacking helped you learn anything new about those places or the people that live there?" Trey asked, cocking his head.

Sebek paused to think. Moments later, he, with his full chest, proudly replied, "An Octavinelle student was monopolizing all the peppermint sticks in the shop, so I saw it fit to liberate them from his grasp!!"

"... In other words, you picked a fight with him." Trey sighed. "It’s… a start. A small one, but still a start if it gets you to interact with those outside of Diasomnia. You'll just have to keep working on that—baby steps now so you can be where you want to be in the future, yeah?"

"Indeed...!!" Sebek slammed the end of his broom into the ground, the motion hard and resolute. "If I wish to stand by Malleus-sama's side, I must do all that I can to be worthy of him. To go wherever the young master is... that is my greatest dream!!"

He grinned with his teeth, displaying prominent canines. poking out from between two rows of pearly whites. It was a smile as radiant as the sun.

"Oh, that reminds me." Trey indicated his own mouth. "I hope you're remembering to properly floss and to brush your teeth well after eating all those candies. It's important to take care of your dental hygiene, especially after eating sugary snacks."

"Grrgh...!! Where do you get off on, giving me orders!?"

"I wouldn't call them orders. They were just suggestions--though I think your teeth would be happier if you followed them," Trey joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sebek's expression creased all the same.

"That you would see fit to suggest anything of the sort to me is offensive!!" the birthday boy grumbled. "My father makes similar remarks, no matter how often I remind him that I am a grown man!"

"Ahahah... I'm sure that's just his way of showing you that he cares. It's hard for any parent to watch their kid grow up. To them, that kid will always be their baby.

"Hmph! R-Ridiculous," Sebek declared. He haughtily turned away, his cheeks tinged pink. There was hesitation, and then an uncharacteristically quiet voice that slipped out. "You... really are like him in every conceivable way. I cannot fathom humans like you sort."

"Exactly why you're trying so hard now." Trey nodded to the sky above. It was a cornflower blue morning with a healthy sprinkling of clouds. "You've been training hard, so let's see you in action."

"D-Do not presume to understand my skill! I'll show you just how powerful I am!! Faster than light, stronger than lightning... I AM HE WHO HAS SWORN TO PROTECT THE YOUNG MASTER!!"

The vow was made, his ambitions announced.

In response to his decree, the broom fizzled to life. It lifted off the ground in a single strong stroke, Sebek easily swinging on. His robes fanned out behind him, fabric flapping loudly in an errant spring breeze.

Magic crackled in the air around them, hot as sparks, bright as stars. His spells matched his energy: loud and proud.

His grip on the handle was as steady as his resolve.

His fierce gaze, focused on the future.

#Sebek Zigvolt #Trey Clover #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Sebek birthday takeover #something no one asked for #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #the peppermint stick thing and the Octavinelle student Sebek fought with is a reference to Dorm Uniform Floyd's vignettes

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simpxxstan · 5 months

Text

perfect complements (ch. 4)

pairing: professor!seungcheol x professor!f.reader

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, angst, smut

series summary: four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

series word count (till current chapter): 10.4k

chapter word count: 3.1k

rating: 18+

warnings: slight bickering, description of makeout between seungcheol and oc (not with reader) and vague descriptions of fingering. curse words being used.

a/n: i'm sorry for the late update! i've been going through a hard time these few days, but i'm trying to distract myself! this is a filler chapter ig? i'm sorry if it's taking too long for any action between the reader and coups to start, but i really want to build the story up. it's slow burn for a reason hehe thank you so much for reading! <3

taglist for the fic: @minhui896

series masterlist

Seungcheol’s phone pops up with a notification as he makes his way to Dr. Lee’s chambers. He knows you’ve already been here once before, but he has actively avoided the staffroom all day so that he doesn’t get caught in your and Minhee’s crossfire again. It’s best for him to keep his distance when you’re pissed. He knows, no matter what the reason, you’ll end up bursting at him.

“Hello, Prof. Choi. How are you today?”

“Same as usual, I guess. I can’t believe it’s Valentine's Week already.”

Dr. Lee laughs, their laugh slightly whimsical but purposeful. Seungcheol feels oddly comforted by the Counsellor but also a little nervous. He’s being constantly analysed, and it’s not a good feeling. But they know how to get him at ease too.

“Why? Is Valentine’s Week important to you?”

“Aah well. If I don’t tell you, she will. It reminds me of what happened the first February I was here.”

Seungcheol had absolutely no clue what was going on in college. Perhaps being away from the dating market for so long had made him forget all about this. Plus, his mind was all caught up with the conference. It was the first time he was getting to organise something in this college, and as a new Professor, he had to impress everyone. He had the crazy urge to prove himself worthy of the post: many had said he was too young for it, but he was determined to prove them wrong. So when Prof. Y/L/N had offered that the two of you take up the duties this time to organise the department’s Annual Winter Conference, he had readily taken up the opportunity.

Of course, everything was fine with Prof. Y/L/N now. You had explained to him that you were having a shitty day and couldn’t control your emotions, given your periods had been giving you hell, and the very day after that, you had both gone to watch the new play being performed by the University’s Drama Club, together. Along with a lot of laughs and a lot of meaningful conversations, Seungcheol had hoped he had made his first friend in University. The academic atmosphere had daunted him at first, since he was the youngest, but seeing you had made him braver. He had someone by his side to help him, instead of judging him.

It also helped that he found you unimaginably beautiful.

Seungcheol was, by no means, an innocent boy. Yes, he hadn’t dated properly for very long, but he was no playboy either. He liked to keep his commitments minimal, given that most of his 20s had been spent cooped up in the library, drowning in coffee and real analysis theorems. He had enjoyed pursuing academics, but it had effectively stolen his social life from him. His romantic life, too. His love life had ended with his undergraduate course, and since then, he had been happily married to his thesis.

Except, now. Now, things were different. Because you had entered his life. Not just that, Seungcheol had found himself economically and socially stable after several years. He could finally spend time with his family, live in his own rented apartment, take care of his pet dog as he liked, and eat out almost twice a week, and still have enough money to indulge in a new game being released at the end of the month. Meeting you at this perfect time made him want to go all in, and take his chances at love. After all, he was twenty seven now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again, would he?

Naturally, he couldn’t give up on the chance to co-convene the conference with you this year. He really respected you- both from a professional point of view, and personally; well, as much as he did know about you. It wasn’t much, you weren’t a great oversharer, but there was one thing that he knew for sure- he enjoyed spending time with you, and he was looking forward to meeting you every day.

“Seungcheol! You’re here. Are we good to go? I think the guest speakers are about to arrive in a few minutes!” You were smiling nervously, but still looked incredibly put together. Your hair was tied up in a bun, revealing your soft cheeks and the new earrings you had donned just for the event. This was the first time he was seeing you wear a dress, and he could feel himself tipping a little more into this mini project of his.

“Y/N, please don’t worry! I’ve got the volunteers briefed, and everything will work like clockwork.”

Unfortunately for Choi Seungcheol, everything did not work like clockwork.

It was the last hour of the conference, the time for the students to gather in a group discussion moderated by the two of you, and discuss your findings, thoughts and questions about the presentations and papers presented by the various guests of the day. With the majority of the workload done, and surrounded by familiar faces, Seungcheol felt much relaxed, and had rolled up his sleeves and settled down into a chair for the first time that day. After running around all day, this informal session felt like a blessing.

You sat down next to him, and all the other students settled down in a scattered, approximate circle. The flow of the conversation began easily, with you smiling and picking up the pace. The students, eager and wide-eyed, kept chattering, and the enthusiasm reminded Seungcheol of himself. The discussion was largely informal, and it felt like a group of likeminded people sitting together, not a hierarchical group of students and professors. It was an atmosphere that made him very happy.

Of course, it also made him very happy that you seemed to be more and more comfortable with him as the day passed by. It manifested in little things, but they were enough to make Choi Seungcheol feel giddy like a schoolboy again. Like how you keenly listened to his comments, and appreciated his thought process. How you contributed to every discussion he initiated, how you ensured he didn’t get left out in the discussions. How you touched his hand once while asking him about something. How you unintentionally (or intentionally?) stared for a second too long at him, and he had caught you in the act.

It was an extremely successful day, he concluded, and he went home feeling the happiest he had been in recent times. He had felt included in the University community, and that was what he had truly wanted for all these days. It felt so relieving.

But all that was going to change the next morning.

He arrived at college in a happy mood, not realising why suddenly there was a galore of roses being carried around the college campus by students. He grabbed his usual Americano from the canteen, before making his way to the staffroom, delightfully greeting every student and professor he met on the way. The campus seemed to be bursting with energy today, but he simply couldn’t realise why. Not that he cared. He was just as energetic today-

“Care to explain this, Prof. Choi?”

You’re standing there, hands on your hips, Wonwoo, the Dean from Social Sciences next to you, and the other professors of the department also in that room. He can’t make out what’s written in the letter that you’re holding up, but as he steps closer, he can see it:

CHEOLLIE AND Y/N SITTING ON A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

Below the words, there were small roses drawn and pictures of iconic scenes from the k-drama, ‘Boys Over Flowers’ stuck on the page.

“What’s this?” He asked, still clueless. Wonwoo stepped up, and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s the first day of Valentine’s Week. Someone left this on Y/N’s desk…”

The dots finally connected in Seungcheol’s head. The students had… shipped them? It was surprising, funny but extremely absurd. He had the urge to laugh it off, but then he stopped himself seeing the furious look on your face. He realised it had offended you in some way, although he saw it as a joke.

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I don’t know-”

“Do you realise how unprofessional this is? How desperate this makes me look?”

“Desperate?”

“Of course they thought a woman would fall in love with the first man they saw entering the campus. It’s disrespectful, Choi Seungcheol, do you not see that?”

“I think it’s not as big as you think. It’s just a joke by the students-”

“Joke? Wonwoo, please explain to him.”

Wonwoo enlarged his eyes, but quickly took the signal and asked Seungcheol to step out with him.

“I swear I didn’t do anything!”

“I know Seugncheol. I’ve known you for long enough to know you’re not dumb to seduce your colleague. But everyone can see your crush on Y/N.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to finally be shocked. “What? It’s really nothing like that!”

“Okay. Even if I accept what you’re saying… I’m not saying you’re at fault for this. Kids pull this kind of prank all the time. They shipped me and another Professor from the Linguistics department for years, before everyone got to know that she was gay and I was marrying someone else. But I understand why Y/N may feel sensitive about these things. All I’m suggesting is-” he raised his hand to prevent Seungcheol from cutting in, “keep a little bit of distance? Until the rumours die out and she feels comfortable again. We can’t have a hostile environment in the department, can we?”

Seungcheol chuckles at the end of the story.

“Look where we are now.”

He had recounted almost all of the incident with Dr. Lee, albeit not going into too much details about his love interest in Prof. Y/L/N.

“It’s a very interesting story, I must say,” Dr. Lee had a smile of their face as well, seeming quite amused by the narration. “So you liked her?”

“A little. Quickly snubbed out, as you can make out. After these things, I kept my distance, and obviously, whatever inkling of… feelings had emerged… died out. I was back to neutral within a few weeks.”

“And what about your friendship?”

“Friendship?”

“Your relationship. Did it ever go back to normal? As it was before this thing?”

Seungcheol pauses. He’s not quite sure. Perhaps because it’s been so long, and he has largely forgotten? He doesn’t know how exactly the relationship would have been even if the incident hadn’t happened. There would be other things to destroy it, of course, as time had shown.

“I don’t think so. But then, it’s hard to define normal. We were friendly, like new colleagues who instantly don’t hate each other are. But since then, as we worked together for longer, and as my… emotions became absolutely neutral, we discovered irks in each other pretty soon. We never ended up being as friendly as then, again. I don’t think we would’ve been anyway.”

“And if she had liked you back?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He prefers not to think about it, a situation he could envision in only an alternate, distant universe.

“She could never.”

It’s the truth. He knows it’s best not to lie to Dr. Lee.

Valentine’s Week is one of the few weeks in the year when the entire city is bustling. There’s the excitement of new love, hope of requiting crushes, and the thrill of the chase, all punched together. It’s also the beginning of spring, and Kkuma, on such days, really enjoys walking through parks, running in fresh green grass dazzling with dew, and making Seungcheol run after her.

Today, she’s dressed up with tiny pink clips sparkling in her carefully trimmed white hair. Today, Seungcheol isn’t running behind her. He’s instead sitting on the bench, surfing through his phone, as Kkuma runs small laps around him. There’s no chance of her straying away, she’s too dependent on him for survival and she loves being spoilt.

“Oppa?”

Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see Hyerin standing in front of him, dressed in tracks. Running in the park, clearly. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you came to the park?”

“I came here for Kkuma-ya. You?”

“Can't go to the gym these days. So I’ve switched to running. Mind if I join you?” Seungcheol shifts up on the bench, and Hyerin flops down on it, next to him. “Tired? Take a sip from my Americano-” he brings the coffee to her lips, and she sucks in through the straw. “Aah, too much ice!” He giggles, before taking a sip himself. “I like it this way. You don’t have to drink it.” “Yaah! Oppa!” She snatches it a bit, sips again, and puts it back in Seungcheol’s hands.

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

She smiles, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Breakfast becomes another walk along the sunny streets of Seoul, which turns into grabbing beer before lunch, and after another hearty meal at a street food fair, Seungcheol finally takes Hyerin home. They’d been stalling it for long enough, he thinks, and he definitely does like her a lot. Better to settle down with her than any other random woman his mother decided to set him up on a blind date with.

“Kkuma’s watching us,” Hyerin whispers breathlessly, panting between kisses, as she leans away from Seungcheol’s body to look at the small dog sitting far away from them but still with her eyes fixed on the two of them.

Seungcheol laughs. “See? This is why I told you Kkuma doesn’t like it when I bring over girls.”

“But she’s okay with you bringing over your colleague from work?” Hyerin doesn’t sound jealous, she’s too busy unbuttoning Seungcheol’s shirt. “Kkuma wasn’t at home then. My brother had taken her away for the day.” “Lucky woman, your colleague.” And her mouth is back on his, and they slobber around, making out furiously, even while the sun still shines on them from the open windows. Seungcheol’s hands grab her waist tightly as he lifts her up. He then moves away from couch and slowly makes his way to the bed, not leaving Hyerin’s mouth even once. When he’s finally laid her down on the bed and taken off her pants, the phone in the back pocket of his jeans rings. He’s tempted to ignore it, more interested in Hyerin’s bloodshot eyes staring at him hungrily and the way she’s reacting to his hands stroking over her thighs. But the phone keeps ringing, and the sound is annoying, so he takes out the phone to turn off the volume.

Except he sees the name tag.

It’s you.

“Hello?” Seungcheol can hear Hyerin gasp in frustration, but he can’t help but take the call. He knows you never call him unless it’s an emergency, so this must be serious.

“Prof. Choi? This is Prof. Y/L/N.”

“Yes I know. What is it?”

“Am I disturbing you? Your voice sounds curious and Seungcheol gets pissed at the stalling. “Yes, could you please tell me why you called?” “Sorry about that then, I’ll be quick. It’s just that-” “Yes?” “Hey, why so impatient?” “Prof. Y/L/N, it’s a Sunday. I’m busy, I have a personal life as well. Now could we please get on with this quickly?”

“Prof. Choi, you know about the upcoming seminar in Singapore that our department was taking the UnderGrad students for? For the annual field trip?”

“Yes?”

“And you know how Minhee was going to come along with me for the trip?”

“I do know that.”

“Well, her sister’s getting married that weekend. We just got to know, I swear!”

“We?” Seungcheol feels so lost in this conversation.

“Yeah, well, Minhee and I. We’re actually hanging out together, right now.” “Okay? And why are you suddenly telling me about Minhee’s sister’s wedding?” “Oh, just that. Wonwoo asked me to ask you, if you’d like to come along. Minghao is really busy for that weekend with meetings for his America thing, so I really had no option but to ask you.”

There’s a very loud pause. Seungcheol is facing away from Hyerin, but he can hear her breathing clearly in the silence. She’s real sweet, waiting patiently for him to finish the call, even if he’s left her without any context.

“You can’t go alone?”

“I did tell Wonwoo I’d go alone, I am literally 33. He said no, it’s not nice to send just one professor when they’ve already made arrangements for two.”

“Can’t we send one of the PhD students? They’ll get good exposure too.”

“There are over 30 kids. Not sure how much exposure a PhD student can get from handling kids-”

“Kids who are all in their 20s. This isn’t a kindergarten field trip.”

“I’m just telling you what Wonwoo would say. I know it because I’ve suggested these exact same things to him as well.”

Another pause. Seungcheol can hear Hyerin touch herself, the sounds giving it away. He turns around and sees his suspicions confirmed. It’s an irresistible sight, her eyes closed in focus, and with the afternoon sun falling on her skin, she does look heavenly.

Fuck you for keeping him away from this delight.

He steps closer to Hyerin, and joins her, taking her by surprise. She moans, and he hopes you weren’t able to hear it.

“Listen. I’ll let you know if I can make it. But I don’t think I’ll be free next weekend, so don’t count on me-”

“Wonwoo asked me to tell you that this would be the last step to our ‘therapy’ thing. I may have blackmailed him into agreeing to this, because he forced me to call you up.”

Seungcheol can’t focus on the phone call anymore, not with the pretty sounds Hyerin keeps muffling up, but this perks his attention. Freedom from that bullshit finally. He’d been tired of turning up to the Counsellor’s office and getting analysed by their squinty little eyes. Especially when you both had to attend together. It was getting embarrassing now, as students across the university heard rumours about this therapy thing. It was bad enough that everyone knew how much you two dislike each other. Even worse now that they thought you both needed couples’ therapy to get over your petty fights.

Damn Wonwoo for being a smartass. Seungcheol has known this since childhood but he keeps falling for his moves each time. He can never win against Wonwoo.

“Seungcheol? Are you still there?”

“Okay Prof. Y/L/N.”

“Huh?”

“I said okay. I’m in. For the next weekend. Bye now.” Thank god he has Hyerin falling apart on his touch right now, before his mind twists and falls into a trap, thinking about the potential dangers of what he just agreed to.

“Oppa! I’m- I’m- aaah!” Hyerin’s voice is loud, and he sinks headfirst into her. “I’m here, princess. Oppa’s right here.”

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