#and guess. guess what i found. like without even Trying. guess.

[365emotionlessfaces]

Angsty, with a happy ending ❤️

Suspension

WC:~9k

“Chief. I’m fine.” I say, sitting in the back of a rig. Emily Prentiss stood before me, looking quite unhappy with me. The paramedic that was trying to check my vitals looked at Emily in slight annoyance, trying not to be rude, but trying to indicate that she was trying to do her job.

“That was stupid and irresponsible of you.” She states coldly, nostrils flaring. That’s how I knew she was really upset with me. “What exactly were you thinking? Running in there? No vest?” Her eyes were full of a venom I hadn’t seen in a long time. I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off by quickly raising her pointer finger. “Don’t. You’re suspended for a week.” Her voice was sharp.

“Emily-” I try to explain myself, to justify what I did, but the warning look she shot at me made me shut my mouth as quickly as I opened it. She turned sharply on her heel and walked away from me. I let out a sigh, and dropped my head slightly.

“Tough boss,” the paramedic remarked as she gently grabbed your arm to check your blood pressure, stepping in front of me to where Emily had just stood. I brought my unoccupied hand to my face and rubbed it slightly in exhaustion.

“Yeah,” was all I could manage to say with a deep sigh.

~~~~~~

“How bad is it?” JJ asked softly as she followed me onto the jet. I looked around and caught Emily’s eyes. There were still daggers shooting from them, so I dropped my gaze quickly.

“Suspended for a week,” I responded, taking a seat beside Tara. Conveniently, this was the seat farthest from Emily. My voice was barely above a whisper. I really fucked up this time. I’d be lucky if she ever let me in the field again.

“Like, suspended from the field?” Tara asked, incredulously. “Or suspended suspended?” She and JJ look at me expectantly.

“I guess we’ll find out when we get back,” I say with a shrug. I was not as calm as I was letting on. My entire body was vibrating.

I had crossed a serious line. Emily had told us from the beginning that under no circumstances were any of us to be alone with the unsub. She stressed it every day, and every single time we learned something more about the monster he was. I had done exactly that. The unsub had threatened to kill every person in the club, if I hadn’t gone with him, and the profile confirmed that it wasn’t an empty threat. No agent worth their salt would have let all those innocent people get hurt. If I had to do it all over again, I would.

After we took off, the three of us fell into a comfortable silence. Tara had pulled out a book, and JJ started scrolling on her phone. I was unable to stop myself from shooting glances to the back of the jet, to Emily. Her gaze was focused out the window, watching the clouds float past beneath us. She wouldn’t even look at me.

As if she could read my mind, her head turned, slow and calculated, and her eyes met mine. When her eyes narrowed slightly, I suddenly found myself regretting my wish for her to look at me. She stood, and began approaching, never once blinking or taking her eyes off me. I gulped slightly, and judging by the way Tara and JJ snapped their heads up, it wasn’t as quiet as I had hoped. They looked at me, and then to Emily as she reached us.

She pointed at me. “You,” her voice was dangerous. Oh fuck. “When we land, you will go home. You will not enter that building until next Wednesday. You will spend your week at home thinking about how irresponsible your actions were today, and how they put not only you, but your entire team in danger. Do you understand me?” JJ made the mistake of looking up at Emily, but quickly returned her attention to her phone when Emily cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, Chief,” I say meekly, looking her in the eyes. I was silently pleading with my eyes for her to forgive me. She looked back at me coldly. I sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to be forgiven that easily. I slumped back against the seat without another word, and Emily must have been satisfied at that because she returned to her seat in the back.

I snuck a quick glance at JJ. Without even looking at me, she shook her head, indicating she wasn’t going to put herself in the crossfire of this one. Emily was angry enough that she could become guilty by association. I just sighed again, and closed my eyes, hoping this week goes quickly and that Emily doesn’t decide to extend your suspension at any point.

~~~~~~

After we landed, I said my goodbyes and headed straight for my vehicle. I tried wishing Emily a goodnight, but she didn’t acknowledge me. She walked past me, straight into the FBI building, without glancing back once. I asked JJ to tell Garcia that I’d see her next week, and I headed home.

After entering the apartment, I locked the door and I dropped my go-bag by the door, right beside my freshly discarded shoes, hoping it would remind me to wash and replace them over the next week. I shuffled to the kitchen, my keys finding their usual home on the counter. I flick on the lights, and turn to grab a glass from the cupboard. As I go to take a step, I find my face flying quickly towards the floor before I catch myself on the counter.

I looked down to see what had I tripped over and found myself staring into the eyes of a black cat. I smiled and cooed at him softly. “Hey, buddy.” I leant down and gave him a few head pats before resuming my mission. I stepped over him to the cupboard and pulled out a wine glass. I poured myself a quite larger than usual glass before making my way into the living room.

I set my glass on the table with a light clink before dropping onto the couch, as if my weight had just tripled and my knees buckled under the sudden stress. My eyes darted to the clock on the wall, and I sighed. I picked up my glass of wine and pulled out my phone, deciding to scroll through social media instead of thinking about the events of the past day. As my thumb flicked the screen, and wine passed my lips the time ticked on. It was two hours before I glanced at the clock again.

I close my eyes and my lips tighten into a thin line. She’s avoiding me. Fueling my suspicions that Emily could read my mind, you heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock. There was silence for a beat before I heard the door open, and then close again. There were a couple of dull clunks as her heels hit the floor, and then, a few seconds later, the sound of her keys colliding with my own on the counter.

I dropped my phone onto the couch cushion beside me, placed my now empty glass on the table, and stood, knowing she was headed this way. Her figure appeared in the doorway, and I looked at her softly, hoping my face was relaying just how much remorse I was feeling. Her face was red and puffy, a clear indication she had been crying her entire way home.

“Em-” I begin softly, but she cuts me off.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Her voice was loud, but shaky. She crossed her arms, trying to ground herself. Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes brimmed with tears, revealing her true feelings.

“Baby…” I tried again. She shook her head before continuing.

“You could have died.” Her voice was hoarse and wet, meaning she was holding her tears back with everything she had. I took a few steps toward her, slowly, testing the waters. “I could have…” Her eyes fell shut, as she trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

“Hey,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. I needed her to look at me. I closed the distance between us, my hands coming to rest gently on her biceps. “Baby, I know what I did was stupid, and I’m sorry. Believe me, I am, but I’m alive. I survived.” Her eyes snapped open to meet my gaze, the tears that she had been withholding finally winning over and rolling down her face.

“What if you didn’t?” She asks softly. The hurt in her voice made my stomach drop. I realized just how bad the decision I had made truly was. I had only thought about removing the immediate danger. For that stupid moment, I hadn’t thought about anything else. Not myself. Not my wife.

I pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her into a hug. “Baby,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

Her head fell to my shoulder and I held her tighter. I felt her body begin to shake against me, as the sobs began to escape, wracking her body violently. She shook a few times, before her arms came to wrap around my neck, and she inhaled sharply before letting out more sobs.

“I can’t lose you,” she sobbed into my shoulder between heaves of her chest. If I didn’t get her to calm down soon, she’d hyperventilate. One of my hands moved to rest on the back of her head, and I began to sway subconsciously.

“Shh,” I said quietly. “You won’t, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I placed a kiss on the top of her head, and felt her relax ever so slightly into my hug. “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

We stood there, swaying back and forth, Sergio rubbing against our legs, for twenty minutes before I heard her sigh softly. “Come on,” I whisper. “Let’s go to bed.” She didn't say anything, she only nodded against my neck. When she made no movements towards the bedroom, I dropped my hands below her butt, and tapped softly on her thighs. Her grip around my neck tightened, as she lifted one leg to wrap around my waist, and then the other, as I pull her up.

Her face never left my neck as I carried her to the bedroom. I held her tightly as I made my way across the room to the bedside table and turned the lamp on. A faint glow illuminated the room before I leaned down, setting Emily gently onto the bed on her back. As I tried to stand to get us pajamas though, her grip around my neck tightened and she whined slightly.

I smiled softly, and relented, unable to deny her anything, especially right now. I climbed onto the bed, laying down beside her. She pulled me into a kiss, before burying herself into my chest and breathing deeply. It didn’t take long before her breathing evened out, and a light snore began to escape her lips. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and gently reached over her to turn the lamp out.

~~~~~~~

We spent the next morning talking about the previous case, and how it went. She apologized for suspending me, and I told her that I felt it was a well-deserved punishment. “Hotch would have fired me.” I had said with a shrug. We talked and cuddled for a little while before her phone rang, the Director telling Emily that she and the team would be headed to Philadelphia for a case.

“What are your plans for the week?” She asked as she slipped into her heels. I shook my head slightly before replying.

“Couple thoughts, but no real plans yet.” I lied.

She was too preoccupied to question me, so she gave me a quick peck on the lips, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, before heading out the door. I gave her about twenty minutes after she left before I jumped into action. I grabbed my phone, and ran to the bedroom, pulling out a few sets of lingerie once I got there. I changed, snapped some photos and sent her a couple. I took plenty of pictures to last the week, enough for me to send a picture every few hours every day. Two minutes passed before my phone buzzed with her reply.

‘Careful, baby. I might have to suspend you more often.’

This week might not be so bad…

[xoxolaw]

+ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗥𝗬

in which a quiet visit to her room turns into something else entirely. Hyun-tak finds her diary, and with it, the truth he never saw coming.

+ 𝗚𝗢 𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗡-𝗧𝗔𝗞 𝗫 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

CH 5 , CH 6

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊

March 14th, 2025

Dear Diary,

A lot has happened recently. And by a lot, I literally mean a lot! Everything feels too loud and too heavy — and I think my heart’s been sitting outside my body this whole week, because I can feel it bruise every time I breathe.

Hyun-tak got injured.

Badly.

I don’t even know how to explain it without my hands shaking. His leg — his knee — it got injured during a fight. With Seong-je.

I hate him so much! I swear to god, if I was strong enough I would have beaten him. If only I didn't get bored of taekwondo and quit just after a few months as a kid.

But I guess taekwondo also doesn't help much against people who like to play dirty. Seong-je was just looking for a reason to be cruel again — because that’s what he does, right? That’s what he is. A mean, mocking, overgrown bully who doesn’t know when to stop.

I don't know how to even write it. Hyun-Tak loves taekwondo so much. That's like his second personality or maybe even the only personality he has. But turns out... He won't be able to continue anymore.

It means everything to him. When I saw him lying on that hospital bed — hooked to IVs, hair a mess, his eyes fluttering open with that foggy kind of pain — I swear, Diary, I wanted to scream. Not cry — scream.

And when the doctor said, “We’ll need scans to confirm, but there’s a chance he won’t be able to compete again,”

my vision blurred.

Just like that. A chance. Like his dreams were a coin toss now.

Geum. Seong. Je.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I don’t care if hate is a strong word — it doesn’t even feel strong enough right now.

But I saw the look in Seong-je’s eyes when I found him afterward, leaning against the school gate like nothing happened — like Hyun-tak wasn’t lying in a hospital bed, trying not to cry in front of his mother.

He smirked, Diary.

He looked at me and smirked.

So I lost it.

I don’t even remember what I said — it all came out in a blur of tears and fury and shaking fists. I screamed at him. Shoved him. Told him he was a mockery of everything good in this world. That he was cruel and small and rotten to the core.

I told him that if he ever touched Hyun-tak again, I’d make sure he wouldn’t be able to walk either.

And do you know what he said?

He said,

"Calm down, princess. It’s not like your precious Gotak died."

I nearly slapped him.

No.

I should have slapped him.

But instead I walked away — because if I hadn’t, I think I would’ve broken. Not him. Me.

Because this whole thing has broken something in me.

I visited the hospital that night. He wasn't in his bed so I panicked a little. But then the nurse told me that he went up to the rooftop. My feet practically flew up the stairs.

He was sitting near the edge, hunched over with his hood up, one knee bent, the other stretched out and wrapped in bandages. The wind was cold. Too cold. But he wasn’t shivering.

He looked like he belonged to the night sky.

I stood there for a while. Just watching him from the stairwell door. He didn’t see me. His back looked... small. I don’t know how to explain it.

He’s taller than me, stronger than me in every way — but in that moment, he looked like a kid again. Like the boy who used to climb trees and then freeze halfway down because he was scared to fall.

I walked over slowly. He didn’t look at me.

So I sat beside him. Not too close — just enough that he’d know I was there. He looked at me. Then he said, “You didn’t have to come.”

But I did. God, I did. What was he even talking about?? If I didn't come, then who would??

Dumbass.

I wanted to tell Hyun-tak that it wasn’t fair. That he didn’t deserve this. That he didn’t have to pretend like it didn’t hurt.

But I didn’t say any of those things. We sat in silence until I heard some sniffs.

At first, I thought maybe the wind had made his nose cold, or maybe I imagined it. But then I saw the way his hand moved — just a little — like he was trying to wipe his face without letting me see.

And my heart cracked right there.

Because Hyun-tak doesn’t cry.

Not in front of people. Not even me.

He always acts like he’s too tough for that. Always shrugs everything off with that familiar “Tch,” like feelings are just something you can kick out of the way and keep walking.

But tonight, he couldn’t hide it.

And I think that broke me more than anything.

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to embarrass him. I just reached over and — very slowly — rested my hand over his, the one he’d used to wipe his face.

He flinched a little.

Then he turned his face away.

But he didn’t move his hand.

He let me hold it.

Just like that.

His fingers curled a little, like maybe he was holding on back.

We didn’t look at each other. I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening. That silence? It said more than any words could’ve. I could feel the weight of it — the grief, the loss, the anger — the fear that maybe, this time, he couldn’t just brush it off and keep going.

He whispered something. I’m not even sure I heard it right.

“I don’t know who I am… if I’m not doing this.”

And that’s when I wanted to cry.

Because I know who he is.

He’s the boy who stood up for kids getting bullied. He’s the one who always walked me home even when I said I was fine. He’s the one who gave me his scarf and the better half of his lunch. He’s the one who always showed up, even when he didn’t say he would. He’s Hyun-tak.

And I wanted to say all of that.

But the words just stayed in my throat.

So instead, I gave his hand a squeeze.

And that was it. That was all I could do.

Sometimes I wish I could do more.

But maybe that was enough.

I love you, Hyun-Tak.

-Y/N

(hoping to someday tell him everything I have been holding back)

✎ᝰ.ᐟ⋆⑅˚₊

Hyun-tak sat frozen.

The page hadn’t moved. His eyes hadn’t blinked. His thumb trembled faintly on the edge of the paper, holding it open like it might slip away from him if he let go for even a second.

That last line. It hit him like she’d whispered it into his ear. He could hear her voice in his head—quiet, steady, so close it made his chest ache.

His hand instinctively moved down, resting lightly on his right knee—the one still stiff under his jeans, the one the doctors kept talking about like it wasn’t part of him anymore.

He remembered that night. Not the hospital walls or the IV lines. But her.

How she’d looked under the pale rooftop lights. Her expression trying to stay calm, but her fingers were gripping his hand too tightly. He remembered thinking she was warm. So warm.

And wondering if it was okay to lean into that.

He hadn’t let himself.

Not then.

And maybe not now either, because his heart was thudding so loud it felt like it was caught in his throat.

He had to swallow hard, lips parting like he was about to say something—even though there was no one to hear it. Just the silence of her room, the faint rustle of a curtain, and her words. Her truth, pressed between paper and ink.

And suddenly, all the quiet memories started screaming:

The way she used to mimic taekwondo stances behind the teacher’s back — all elbows and bad posture — just to make him laugh.

How she always looked at him during tournaments, never at the scoreboard.

The time she ran after his bike with a bandaid because he scraped his palm falling, yelling, “It’s pink but it still works!!”

The way she always sat next to him. Always.

How her hand fit inside his jacket sleeve when it got too cold.

And how he always noticed.

He’d brush it off, like it didn’t mean anything. Like it was just habit.

Like she was just habit.

But now…

He let out a shaky breath and rubbed his face with both hands, like that could slow the spinning in his head. His fingers dragged through his hair, then dropped, landing back on the diary.

So many pages.

All of them about him.

Every word from her younger self to now — it was him.

Him in the margins, him in the moments, him in the in betweens.

His chest tightened.

Because—

Maybe he had, too.

Without even realizing it.

Without ever saying it.

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. The softness of her pillow behind him. The golden glow of her lamp.

Everything here had her warmth.

And it overwhelmed him.

He closed the diary carefully, this time not because he was done reading—but because he was too full.

His palm hovered over the cover for a moment before pressing down like it needed to be held.

Because he was scared of what would happen if he opened another page and saw more.

And even more scared of what would happen if he didn’t.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, the smallest of cracks in his voice.

Then, after a pause, almost a whisper—

“…Why didn’t you just tell me?”

But even as he said it, he already knew the answer.

Because maybe…

he wouldn’t have been ready to hear it.

Not then.

Maybe not even now.

But he was listening now.

And the one thing he knew, clearer than anything else?

He didn’t want to lose her.

Not her voice.

Not her truth.

Not her.

+ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘 + 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

I LOVE THIS SM 😭😭😭

+ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

@keizvn @soobinbunnie5 @chaywkk @l5byrinth @inom17 @randomheyl @coffee-ii @mizxuqii @dna-black-and-blue @kyungjunnies @maxinehufflepuffprincess @deboizzzstay @coolasiangal123 @intoanothermind @satoru2716 @chenlegendj @changbinkisser @xh01bri @jww-sjzyeirie @thebatapex @itzcandy @ryeounistic @ruruyinn @ashayein @bblgeum @tojirin @lov3lylyn @urmazah

[incloudcity]

where we end up | chapter 4

requests are open | series masterlist | navigation

The days that followed the bathroom incident were some of the most awkward you’d experienced in a long time. You and Jack moved around the house like two charged magnets pushed just far enough apart to repel but never quite to release the tension. Neither of you said much, and when you did, your words were clipped and careful — small islands of politeness in a sea of silence.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared space before, but this was different. The air felt heavier, every glance lingered too long before being quickly diverted, and every room you passed each other in felt like a minefield you both tried not to step into.

You found yourself retreating into things that felt steady, predictable. Luke’s idea to volunteer at the local youth hockey clinic had come as a welcome distraction. He’d insisted you come along one Saturday morning, saying, “You’re good with people. And honestly, these kids need all the help they can get.”

You weren’t sure what exactly you expected from the experience, but by the time the morning sun had warmed the rink and the kids were scrambling over the ice with too-big skates and enthusiasm, you felt a flicker of something you hadn’t in weeks: ease.

Luke was in his element, joking with the kids, corralling the most stubborn ones into learning to stop without falling, and occasionally elbowing you when you got too serious about the drills.

“You’re way too intense,” he teased, grinning.

You laughed, the sound light and unexpected. It felt good — to be seen, not as the “perfect doctor” or the “invader” Jack had made you out to be, but just... you.

You caught Jack’s attention that afternoon without even trying. He was standing near the rink entrance, leaning casually against the wall but with his arms crossed in that way that told you he was more alert than relaxed. His eyes tracked you, flicking from your easy laugh to the way Luke bumped your shoulder playfully. It was a small scene, but something in his expression twisted into something almost unfamiliar—jealousy, you guessed.

You tried to ignore it, but it sent a strange ripple through you. You weren’t sure whether to feel victorious or wary.

Back at the house, your relationship with Luke deepened in unexpected ways. He asked for your advice on dealing with a nagging shoulder pain, which you treated like a welcome excuse to hang out more. His easygoing nature peeled back your walls a little, and you found yourself sharing pieces of yourself you hadn’t planned on revealing — about work, about the burnout you were struggling to admit, about the quiet loneliness that sometimes swallowed you whole even in a room full of people.

Luke listened without judgment. His genuine kindness was like an anchor.

Jack, meanwhile, stayed distant but couldn’t help but notice the details — the small, quiet ways you cared for those around you, especially his brothers.

He saw how you’d slip Luke a granola bar when you thought no one was looking, how you double-checked Quinn’s prescriptions when the older brother forgot, and how you managed to stay calm even when exhaustion pulled at your edges.

Most of all, Jack noticed how rarely you talked about yourself. You deflected questions about your past, your struggles, your fears. It was as if you were carrying a burden no one else was allowed to see.

One evening, after a dinner that was quieter than usual — Quinn seemed more withdrawn, Luke was teasing you softly about your overachieving tendencies, and Jack barely touched his food — the house settled into a calm lull.

You found yourself alone in the living room, absently scrolling through your phone, when Jack walked in.

He stopped in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“I’m not great at this,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

You looked up, meeting his gaze.

“About... everything,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck like it was suddenly awkward to speak.

You swallowed, heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah.”

Jack shifted, then took a cautious step closer.

“I don’t know how to do this — whatever this is. But I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

You nodded slowly. The weight of those words settled between you.

“Me neither.”

The tension in your chest began to ease, just a little.

The two of you sat there, side by side but with space between you, neither rushing to fill it.

It wasn’t a confession. Not yet.

But it was honest.

Jack looked at you, his eyes softer than you’d seen in days.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For being an ass. For... everything.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I’m sorry too,” you admitted. “For shutting down. For getting defensive.”

There was a pause, then a small, almost reluctant smile from him.

“We’re both stubborn,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Not a great mix.”

You laughed softly, and for the first time since the kiss, the atmosphere felt lighter.

The night settled around you like a blanket, and as you sat there — quiet, honest, and no longer avoiding — you realized maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end.

Maybe it was the beginning.

[storytimewithanonwriter]

🕸️ The Best Love Story Ever Written

TASM! Peter x Wife!Reader

Hello! Found another draft… this one has a lot. I what happens after this moment. I could make it a series. Just not sure if there is a want for it. Let me know if y’all want the rest. There’s an injury and hospital in this fic as well…. I guess I was in my Grey’s Anatomy era lol

- K

His voice was hoarse. He’d been speaking so long he wasn’t sure he could stop even if he wanted to.

Maybe he didn’t want to.

Because once he stopped, he’d have to think about how close he’d come to losing everything.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb over his palm like he could ground himself in the rhythm of it.

“I guess…I should start at the beginning,” he said, voice low.

The very beginning.

It was pouring.

Not the gentle kind of rain that made the city look pretty, but the relentless, sideways sheets that turned umbrellas inside out and flooded every gutter.

He was late. Again.

And he knew, without even checking the clock, that she’d have something to say about that.

Peter swung down from a fire escape, landing in a puddle that soaked his ankles straight through his beat-up sneakers. His mask was still tucked in his pocket, and he probably looked like he’d been mugged.

He caught sight of her standing under a tiny awning, glaring at her phone like it had personally betrayed her.

Her friend Maven , the one with the bright pink streak in her raven hair and the louder mouth, was beside her, rambling something about online dating.

“…I’m just saying,” Maven was insisting, “if he doesn’t show up in five minutes, you’re letting me set you up with that EMT.”

She shoved her phone deeper into her coat pocket, rain dripping off her eyelashes.

“Mav , I swear, if you try to—”

And then she looked up.

Right at him.

And even in the rain, with her hair plastered to her cheeks and her friend in mid-rant, she smiled.

Like she was relieved.

Like maybe she’d been waiting for him all along.

⸻

His hand flexed where it rested on something soft—something small.

He kept going.

“She always said I’m dramatic,” he murmured. “But you have to understand—when she smiled like that…everything else just stopped.”

He let out a breath that trembled a little.

“She looked at me and asked, ‘What happened to you?’ And I said—”

⸻

“What happened to you?” she demanded, eyebrows lifting.

Peter ran a hand through his soaked hair.

“Uh…rain?”

Maven made a strangled noise.

“Rain?” she repeated. “Did the rain beat you up and steal your wallet?”

He felt heat creep up his neck.

“…Sort of.”

Her mouth twitched, trying not to laugh.

“You’re late.”

“I know,” he admitted, feeling sheepish. “But I’m here now.”

And even though Maven rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, she stepped away leaving them space to short out whatever was happening between them.

⸻

He swallowed, fighting the tightness in his chest.

“She had every reason to walk away,” he said. “She could’ve gone home. Let someone else in. But she didn’t.”

His voice softened.

“That’s the first thing you should know about her. She never gives up. Not on people . Not when things look tough . She keeps going. She keeps trying.”

⸻

A week later, he was early. Ridiculously early. He sat in a cracked red booth, bouncing his leg and checking the door every thirty seconds.

When she finally walked in, she looked nervous in a way that made something warm bloom in his chest.

She slid into the booth across from him, pushing her hair behind her ear.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“You look…less drowned.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I clean up okay.”

The waitress came by. She ordered pancakes and hot chocolate. He ordered coffee . He was too nervous for anything else.

For the first twenty minutes, they were both so awkward that she knocked over her water glass twice, and he forgot what day it was when she asked.

But by the time the plates were empty, he felt something settle in his chest. Something he hadn’t let himself feel since Uncle Ben died.

Hope.

⸻

A little movement beside him made his breath hitch.

He paused, feeling the soft rise and fall under his hand.

“You know,” he whispered, “I almost didn’t call her after that night. I thought she deserved someone normal. Someone who didn’t have… baggage. ”

His throat tightened.

“But I’m selfish. I wanted more time with her. And every day since then, I’ve been glad I was.”

⸻

He came through her window at 3 a.m., bleeding.

It was closer than his place. He’d meant to leave again before she woke up. He’d meant to keep her out of this part of his life.

But he tripped on her bookshelf.

And she bolted upright, flipped on the light, and stared at him—half in costume, mask pulled back, trying to look casual as he dripped blood on her rug.

“…Peter?” she croaked.

He froze.

“…Hi.”

“Hi?” she echoed, voice climbing an octave. “Hi? You are Spider-Man? ….all those times you were late or missing or distracted? My…My Birthday?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“Peter, you’re bleeding.”

She did blink an eye . Got out of bed and began to bandage him up. Made him hot tea , handed much needed Advil, and lead him to bed . She curled in to bed next to him , placed a delicate kiss to his brow , and placed a hand on his chest as she drifted back to sleep.

⸻

He laughed softly at the memory, the sound a little watery.

“She didn’t scream,” he said, shaking his head. “She just started swearing and helped me”

His smile faded.

“She has never looked at me like I was a monster. Not once.”

His voice grew softer.

“She makes everything feel…possible,” he whispered. “Even the parts that scared me.”

He finally looked down.

At the two tiny faces wrapped in soft blankets.

At her still form in the hospital bed, monitors beeping steady and reassuring.

“I guess…I should tell you,” he whispered to them. “Your mom…she’s the bravest person I’ve ever known. And she’s fighting to come back to us right now.”

His thumb brushed a tiny cheek.

“So while we wait…I’m going to keep telling you how it all began.”

He looked at her, voice breaking but full of quiet faith.

“Because this is the best love story ever written. And it’s not over.”

[maxdibert]

If you had to teach the Marauders' generation, who do you think would have irritated you the most? What would you have thought of Severus?

Dude, this question… I mean, look, teaching is literally one of my worst nightmares. I have several phobias, one of them is going through childbirth —it gives me intense anxiety and disgust at the same time— and the other is teaching teenagers. Teaching teenagers fills me with panic because, dear god, I’d have to be on anti-anxiety meds all day just to forget they exist. Kids are tolerable because they’re just kids, but teenagers? Absolutely unbearable. I couldn’t stand them even when I was a teenager. I couldn’t stand myself either, it’s that bad.

In the hypothetical scenario where I had to teach them? Well, let’s start by saying I’d be completely drugged up before even entering the classroom. There is no version of this scenario where I could set foot in a class without being either numbed to the core or having a couple of shots beforehand. Like, listen, if I have to endure this, I’m doing it my way. And of course, the kids who made the most noise would be the ones I hated the most, because I loathe loud, disruptive kids. I mean, I didn’t pay attention in class, I couldn’t care less about homework, and what the teacher said didn’t interest me in the slightest but I didn’t bother anyone, you know? I didn’t make a fuss. I can tolerate kids who check out without making a scene. But the ones constantly trying to get attention? I fucking hate that. People like that make me sick, so obviously James Potter would be on my persona-non-grata list, and I’d probably fail him for behavior. And if his parents came to complain? I’d spit in their faces, straight up, raise your fucking kid better. Same goes for Sirius if he was a pain in the ass. I wouldn’t care. I’d be showing up just to get through the day without killing myself, not to put up with spoiled brats.

Remus was supposedly the kind of kid who tried to stay out of the spotlight, right? Just blended into the background, love those. Kids who don’t bother anyone are my favorite, so we’re all good there. His friends are assholes, but the kid himself doesn’t get on my nerves, so wonderful. Peter would be similar, it might annoy me that he tags along with the others from time to time, but if it’s just occasionally, I’ll let it slide.

Lily seems like the type of student who tries to do everything right. No issue with that, as long as she wasn’t a Hermione. If she’s just a girl who tries to get good grades and keeps a low profile, then fine, whatever. But if she tried to suck up to me, or fish for approval, or constantly interrupted my lessons with answers I didn’t ask her for, or acted like a teacher’s pet — I’d fail her too, for behavior. I can’t stand kids who try to dominate the classroom or look smarter than their peers. We don’t know exactly what she was like, only that she was a good student and you can be a good student without being Hermione-ish or drawing attention to yourself, so if that was the case, she’d be neither here nor there for me.

As for Severus, I guess it would depend, but he strikes me as a pretty withdrawn kid, which I like because that usually means he doesn’t bother anyone, and as long as I’m not being bothered, I’m happy. Plus we know the guy was brilliant and went above and beyond out of sheer intellectual curiosity. If that showed in his work, I’d probably like him just for having more than two brain cells. I generally only have a problem with people who are annoying or attention-seeking, just so we’re clear. Also, if I had found out about the bullying he got from the others, it would have been the perfect excuse to fail those two assholes for life which I would’ve loved, since they already pissed me off. So I’d be grateful to Severus for that. For that and for giving me the opportunity to ruin the lives of two rich magical families that couldn’t be bothered to raise their kids properly. That too.

Worst teacher ever, as you can see, but at least I’m fair. I just want to be left alone.

[summerwoodsy]

believe me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x reader

summary: your hookup partner and you show up to the same bar on the same night and feelings unfold

wc: 1.2k

the second he walked into the bar and your eyes met you knew you were in trouble. he looked away first, he always did. he turned back to his friends with a stupid grin on his face like he hadn’t just locked eyes with the girl he fucked in his apartment less than 24 hours ago. 

when you first started hooking up with jack hughes the rules were clear: no feelings just sex, and outside of the walls of your apartments you didn’t know each other. but no matter what the two of you said there was still the quiet moments of something more. the moments where jack would hold you and you two spoke quietly about anything and everything. 

but when he looked away it still stung a bit even though you knew what you had signed up for. but you turned back to your friends and pretended you couldn’t hear the boisterous laughter across the bar. 

your friend handed you a drink as she came back from the bar top. “what’s got you all mopey tonight?” 

“nothing. bars just aren’t really my scene, you know that.” it wasn’t a total lie, you barely went out to parties or bars. the last time that you did was where you met jack in the first place. 

“you gotta loosen up. you gotta get laid tonight!” your other friend cheered. they didn’t know about your late nights with the hockey player so you instead laughed politely trying to shake it off. 

“now no arguments, we’re all leaving here tonight with someone.” the three of you clinked your glasses together even though you knew you wouldn’t have it in you to go home with anyone else. 

— 

as the night went on you resisted the urge to look over at jack. everytime your eyes got close to where his group was you glanced away quickly. 

your friends had each found a guy to go home with but you were outta luck. you probably could’ve found one if you really tried but you knew it was worthless. so you sat nursing your drink about to go home when someone approached you. 

a tall man with dark messy hair and brown eyes stood in front of you. “uh hi? i saw you from over there and i guess i wanted to introduce myself. i’m sorry im not good at this whole thing.”

you laughed lightly, “it’s ok i’m not good at it either. i’m y/n.”

“mav. nice to meet you,” he smiled. “can i buy you a drink?”

before you could answer you felt an arm drape over your shoulder. a new drink was pressed into your hand. you looked up to see jack glaring daggers at mav, his jaw clenched tight. 

“i got it covered, man. you can leave now,” jack spit out, his tone was friendly but his body language spoke otherwise. 

“uh, see ya, sorry,” mav stuttered out before dipping back into the crowd of people. jack’s cold eyes followed him until he deemed the man was at a far enough distance. 

his arm left your shoulders to wrap around your waist, pulling you more into him as he moved to step in front of you. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, looking up to meet his eyes. they were still storming with anger and something else. 

“you shouldn’t waste your time with someone like him,” jack said, ignoring your question. he instead pulled you closer, pressing his face into your hair. you heard him take a deep inhale before letting out a shaky sigh, his arm tightening around you. “you look crazy good tonight. you know that?”

you pushed him back and he moved but not without frowning slightly. “jack…what’re you doing?”

his eyes met yours again but now slightly more guilty. “can’t i hold my girl?”

the use of ‘my girl’ made your heart flutter slightly but you know it wasn’t real. he was probably just drunk and horny enough and he knew you’d always go home with him. “i’m not your girl,” you argued. 

“you basically are,” jack replied with a shrug , his frown growing. he gently moved his hand to rest on your cheek. 

“don’t be mean, jack.” you pushed his hand away, taking a step back. “i’m not ‘your girl’, im just someone you call when you wanna hook up. it’s not anything so i don’t know why you’re starting to act like it is now.”

“it could be something,” he pleaded. “let’s be something.”

“why are you saying all of this now? jack, come on, can you just stop and think for a second. you’ve never wanted this before, this was our agreement that you came up with.”

“agreements can change. look when i saw that guy talking to you-“

“oh so that’s what this is about,” you cut him off. “you only want me because someone else did? that’s great, jack, nice to know that all i had to do was talk to someone else.”

“that’s not true!” jack cried. “so what if some other guy came up to you tonight. i’ve known it since i met you. you’re mine and you’re always gonna be mine.”

the words leaving his mouth made your breath hitch but you stood your ground. “you are acting like a child who wants a toy the second another kid starts playing with it. are you hearing yourself right now?!”

“y/n…” he started, trying to step towards you again but stopping when you held up a hand. 

“no. you don’t get to do this when i wanted something real for so long. i followed our agreement i swallowed down my feelings but you don’t just get to decide i’m yours the second there was a chance i could move on. you’re just being an asshole.” you didn’t realize you were crying until you felt jacks hand resting on your face, his thumbs gently rubbing your tears away. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry you’re right, i’m being a dick. but i do love you. please believe me.” he took the glass from your hand, putting it on a nearby surface before pulling you into a hug. “i love you, please know that.”

it was a weird emotion that you couldn’t quite name that you felt as you let yourself sit in jack’s arms. you sighed, exhausted from fighting the emotions you had for so long, letting your head rest on his chest. his hand came up to hold the side of your head, his fingers brushing through your hair. 

“i don’t know how to believe you. i don’t want to look like some idiot if you’re not all in for this,” you argued, your eyes welling up with tears again. jack pulled away to look you in the eyes. 

“you aren’t an idiot. i do love you. i do want to be with you. i’m all in,” he replied earnestly. 

“prove it.”

and so he kissed you. it wasn’t like the usual kisses you got from jack. those were passionate, messy and rushed. this one was slow and gentle like he was trying to memorize every inch of your lips and mouth. his hand gently held your face as he poured all his love and devotion into the kiss.

once you two finally pulled away, his eyes were trained on your face. “i love you. believe that.”

[userlofyy]

[AKNK] Xmas Circus - Miyaji Oldia

⚠️ Please note that I am by no means a professional and there may be mistakes/mistranslations along the way.

🚫 DO NOT use my translations for Machine Learning/AI training or repost them anywhere.

優しき猫使い

Gentle Cat User

Episode 1

 - A few days before the circus performance - 

As I was walking around the tent while watching the butlers practice… There was a cluster of cats sleeping under the stage… In the center, I found Miyaji, unable to move. The cats sleep comfortably on Miyaji’s lap and in his arms.

Miyaji: Hmmm… I can’t move…

Aruji: Miyaji… What happened?

Miyaji: Ah. Hello, arujisama. Sorry. Please excuse me for sitting down.

Aruji: These cats…?

Miyaji: Hmmm… After practice, I was sitting here taking a break… At first, a cat climbed onto my lap… and started dozing off. I thought it would be bad to wake it up, so I stayed still… Before I knew it, the other cats started to gather around as well. And when I realized… As you can see, I was stuck.

Aruji: Being besides Miyaji, is calming

Miyaji: I-is that so? Because I have a big body… I was worried that the cats would be scared of me… I would be glad if that was the case. Just… As expected, my legs are starting to go numb…

Aruji: Could it be, were you sitting like that the whole time?

Miyaji: Yeah. I guess it will stay like this for several tens of minutes. Just, both me and these cats have finished today’s circus practice… I think I will leave them alone until it’s time for dinner.

Aruji: That’s quite a bit of time though…

I understand the feeling of not wanting to wake up the cats who seem to be sleeping comfortably, but… As expected, that would make Miyaji more tired. Instead of the kind Miyaji… I decided to gently separate the cats one by one.

 - A few minutes later - 

Cats: *purring*

Miyaji: Huh… Thank you, arujisama. As for the numbness in my feet… Actually, I was trying to hold back so as to not wake up the cats. In that situation… I can’t even sneeze carelessly.

Aruji: It must have been tough…

Miyaji: Hmmm… Of course, if there was an emergency, you can’t help but move… When I look at their sleeping faces… I can’t bear to wake them up.

Aruji: Miyaji is kind

Miyaji: Thank you. But in reality, I’m just a timid person. I’m afraid of being scared by the other person… As you can see… I’m already big and have scars in my face. Whether it’s as a teacher or a cat user… To not make your companions feel intimidated… I don’t think I can make the most of their true potential. So, for the cats who too are my companions on the same stage… I don’t want them to be in a bad mood. Rather than being kind… I guess I’m just doing what I think is appropriate given my position…

Miyaji says that his actions are not out of kindness, but… Looking at his eyes filled with compassion… I really don’t think so… And more than anything… He always treats me kindly.

Aruji: Miyaji is also kind to me.

Miyaji: Hm? That is…. I would be happy if you think so…

Aruji: Are you being kind to me because you’re my butler?

Miyaji:... No. In the case for arujisama… Maybe it was like that when we met… It’s different now. It’s natural to want to be kind to your loved ones. Hmmm. Even though I feel like I’m saying something a little embarrassing.

Aruji: Thank you, Miyaji.

Miyaji: No… Thank you to you too. Now then arujisama… To think that I’m a kind person… Arujisama may be the only person to think that way… It makes me very happy. …. That’s it. After saying something embarrassing… Just one thing arujisama… May I ask you a favor?

Aruji: A favor?

Miyaji: Yes. Actually, when the circus performance ends… I want to put on a show just for arujisama. The performers will only be me and the cats… I think it will be a small show without any flashiness… If arujisama would be willing… I would like you to come and see it.

Aruji: Of course, I would love to see it.

Miyaji: Thank you. I’m happy to hear that. Hm… After hearing that, I became even more motivated. Both the actual stage and the show just for arujisama… Please look forward to it.

Aruji: Yeah, I’m looking forward to it

After a few days later… At the actual circus performance, Miyaji and the others’ stage performance was very popular. The butlers and I won the championship beautifully…  We decided to spend a long vacation in the city of Velis.

･──✽──୨୧──✽──･

Episode 2

 - A few days after the circus performance - 

I sat in the empty audience seats… I was waiting for the stage to open. As I promised Miyaji… From now on, he’s going to put on a show just for me.

Aruji: (I wonder what kind of show I will see)

I was waiting with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness… Eventually, Miyaji appeared from the wings of the stage. He bowed respectfully at the center of the stage. He looked into my eyes and smiled gently.

Miyaji: Dear guest, thank you for coming. Well, the stage this time… It’s a little different from the last performance. It’s a special performance I thought, only for arujisama… It was my first time thinking about a circus program by myself… I don’t know if it will work though… In order for arujisama to enjoy themselves… I promise to show you our best performance. Well then… Please enjoy it till the end.

*clap clap clap*

The stage started with the modest applause of just one audience member… And then there was the show that Miyaji showed me…  It was truly amazing. During the actual performance, to help the cats and the other performers stand out… Miyaji always has a modest position, but On this stage, it felt like he was the main character… He stands in the front and puts on a performance. His drawn gaze was always directed towards me in the audience seat… Those eyes… It was as if he was saying, “I want people to only see me”

Miyaji: Hehe… How is it? The fun is just about to begin. My appearance today… I’ll make sure that it is etched into arujisama’s eyes

 - After a while - 

After Miyaji’s stage was over and he and the cats had left the stage… I couldn’t get enough of the excitement from the show. I sat at the audience seat for a while, soaking in the afterglow.

Aruji: (It was amazing…)

*footsteps coming*

Miyaji: Arujisama. Thank you for watching today. I was so excited that it ended up longer than I had planned, but... Aren’t you tired?

Aruji: [I’m not tired at all] [I had so much fun that I forgot the time]

Miyaji: I see… That’s a relief.

Miyaji must be tired after the show. I asked him to sit next to me.

Aruji: Sit here.

Miyaji: Eh? But I….

Aruji: Miyaji must be tired too.

Miyaji:... Thank you. Well then, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Hmmm… It’s true that I’m a little tired, but… It seems that arujisama was happy… It’s a very satisfying feeling. For this stage… All I was thinking was about making sure that arujisama had fun. The cats also responded to my feelings… They gave a great performance. I have to thank them too.

The cats’ performance was also great… This is probably the results of Miyaji’s kindness towards the cats being rewarded. It was such a wonderful stage that I felt it was a waste to have just one audience member. I conveyed my honest impressions to Miyaji.

Miyaji: Thank you, arujisama… That’s the best compliment for me. But this performance… I think it was possible because the audience was just arujisama.

Aruji: Why…?

Miyaji: That… If there were other people in the audience other than arujisama… I would have to treat all the people watching me equally… That is what I think. Even if there was a special audience for me… To the audience who took the trouble to come and see… I just want everyone to have as much fun as they can. Of course… I’m not saying that everyone on stage should do this, but… For me… I really don’t like favoring someone in particular. As someone who teaches children… Maybe it’s because I discipline myself to be equal to everyone… Not being able to treat someone special… It’s frustrating. That’s why for this show… I wanted to be alone with arujisama. I also want to feel like I am able to treat you in a special way… I also wanted to tell you more about me… I also feel like I wanted people to see it…

Aruji: Miyaji…

Miyaji: I’m sorry, arujisama. It’s not just the two of us… The cats were there too. Good grief. Even though I just said I wouldn’t show favoritism… As a person, I still have a long way to go…

Aruji: But I feel happy

Miyaji: Really… Thank you. Anyway… I’m glad I was able to convey my feelings that arujisama is special. Thank you for listening to my selfishness. My memories with arujisama have increased… I’m very happy. From now on, just like now… I want to increase my memories with arujisama. Oh dear… I said something selfish again.

Aruji: That’s not true

I turned back to Miyaji, who was sitting next to me… So that I can respond to his feelings… I also expressed my honest feelings.

Aruji: I too want to increase our memories together.

Miyaji: Arujisama… Thank you. I’m happy that you said that.

Miyaji’s gentle smile came into view. After a moment of silence passed between the two… Below my knees while I was sitting… I felt soft fur pass through me.

Aruji: Eh…?

Cats: Nya~

Miyaji: Hm? You guys… Before we knew it, the cats that finished the stage… They had gathered at Miyaji’s feet. I guess they liked being close to Miyaji. Some cats even lied down and started dozing. One of them… It curled up into a ball and began to sleep, using my shoes as a pillow.

Miyaji: Hm… Sleeping on arujisama’s shoes… I’m sorry, arujisama. I’ll move them now…

Aruji: Don’t wake them up, Miyaji

Miyaji: Arujisama… But if I leave them as it is…

Aruji: We can’t move… right?

The cats are sleeping comfortably near Miyaji and my feet. In order to not wake them up… It looks like we’ll have no choice but to continue sitting next to each other.

Miyaji:... Certainly, we can’t move… Hmm… There is no choice. I guess we have no choice but to stay like this for a while…

Aruji: I agree

Miyaji and I sat next to each other, feeling each other’s presence… I hope that this situation continues for a while longer… I wished to the cats at my feet.

[theshroud-thechallenge-thearrow]

Telemachus was flying higher than Helios’ chariot bringing about the morning sun.

The feel of his husband pressed against his back, his dick fucking his thighs, his hungry hands devouring his body, his fingers around his neck with just the right amount of pressure to make him slightly lightheaded - Telemachus would be dreaming about that for the next week minimum, assuming he wasn’t provided with more interesting fantasies in the meantime.

Not to mention the way he locked those strong arms around his torso and flipped them around like Telemachus was no more than a feather pillow. His mind began to race with all the other things those biceps could manage as the two settled into a comfortable embrace, sighing happily.

Or, at least, Telemachus sighed happily. Peisistratus seemed… Not unhappy, but not entirely content either. His arms were still locked around Telemachus, but they were frozen in place. His lips rested against Telemachus’ shoulder but they weren’t puckered in a kiss. Telemachus could feel an odd tension in his body that just didn’t seem quite right.

Suddenly he understood all those silent conversations he noticed his parents had nearly constantly. Funny, he was so caught up in trying to burying his feelings for his husband that he hadn’t noticed just how well he had come to know the man in every sense of the phrase.

He suddenly had a gnawing feeling in his chest. Was Peisistratus having second thoughts? Did Telemachus finally break him? Was he already plotting a way out of this political marriage? How could he do such a thing, did he already come to detest Telemachus that much?

No, that was ridiculous. Telemachus was getting ahead of himself.

…Right?

He realized he had begun worrying at the inside of his cheek and forced himself to stop before he drew blood. The gnawing feeling in his chest was growing heavier, an awful thought settling in his core. Now that he finally got what he wanted, he was terrified that he was about to lose it all. Did Telemachus take things too far? Was he about to lose not only a husband, but a best friend?

A voice from behind him came in a tired sigh muttered into his shoulder, “Telemachus…”

Oh gods above, here it comes. Peisistratus was going to leave him. The happiest day of his life and it was about to be burned down to ashes. The ring on his left hand suddenly felt like it was burning through to his bone.

“My dove, as much as I love the feeling of your thighs squeezing my dick, you’re pressing a little hard.”

“Do you regret it?” The words tumbled from Telemachus’ mouth before he could stop them.

“Not particularly, it’s just that after cumming twice in one evening, it’s a bit uncomfortable at the moment. Give me, like, 20 minutes.”

“No, that’s not-” Telemachus made a frustrated grumble and pulled away from his husband. The sudden movement surprised Peisistratus into releasing his hold with a confused noise, which turned to moan as his dick was quickly pulled from the pressure of Telemachus’ thighs. Oops. Telemachus sat up, but he struggled to meet his husband’s gaze. “What is wrong with you?”

There was a beat of silence before Peisistratus answered bewilderedly, “I- Wha- What’s wrong with you?!”

“You’re different!”

He heard a noise of something - a hand? - falling down heavily onto the mattress behind him. “I mean, I guess? I just had my brains fucked out by you for the first time, so sure, I guess you could say I’m different?”

“Do you regret it?”

Silence.

Tears sprung up in Telemachus’ eyes. “I knew it,” he muttered. Without looking back, he slid to the side of the bed.

“Wha-? Tel-”

“You’re a fantastic actor, Peisistratus, really.” Telemachus stood and scanned the floor looking for his chiton.

“Telemachus-”

“I appreciate that you were trying to make me feel better, but really, there were better ways to go about it.” He found his chiton and bent over to pick it up, trying to remember where Peisistratus had deposited the pins. “I mean, if you really didn’t want me like that-”

“Telemachus Odysseiades of Ithaca.”

The sudden stern and unwavering tone accompanied by a full title stopped Telemachus in his tracks.

“Look at me.”

Telemachus swallowed. With an immense amount of effort, he finally turned to look at his husband. He flinched seeing that his face was just as scolding as his voice as he stared down Telemachus, now propped up on one elbow.

Peisistratus raised his eyebrows. “You’re being ridiculous. Drop the chiton.”

Telemachus felt a rush of heat racing up his neck and settling in his cheeks as he opened his hands, letting the fabric flutter to the floor.

Peisistratus pointed to the empty sheets next to him, stern eyes still locked on Telemachus. “Lay down.”

Telemachus hesitated.

“I said, lay down.”

Telemachus shuffled over to the bed, crawled over the sheets, and laid down on his back next to his husband.

Peisistratus smiled down at him with pride. “Good puppy.”

Telemachus’ jaw dropped.

Peisistratus chuckled, a bit of life coming back to his eyes as he stared down at Telemachus. His fingers traced lazy patterns on Telemachus’ chest, and he leaned down to kiss the tip of Telemachus’ nose. “Well, I’m a little disappointed I couldn’t get the upper hand in bed, but I’ll take this.”

Couldn’t get the upper…? “Wait, is that what you were so tense about?”

Peisistratus’ face morphed from confused to thoroughly amused. “Is that what your little tantrum was about?”

“It was not a tantrum!”

“What, did you think I was going to fuck you and leave you?” Peisistratus teased.

Telemachus flushed. “I…”

The humor quickly washed from Peisistratus’ face. “Telemachus…”

Telemachus was so disappointed in himself. “Don’t, please. You’re right, I… I was being ridiculous, I just-”

His words were cut off with a chuckle and a kiss. Telemachus squeaked in surprise before melting into a puddle on the sheets, his husband’s lips soft against his own.

Peisistratus pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against Telemachus’ own as his hand wandered into Telemachus’ hair. Telemachus smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s just… This is so new.”

Peisistratus chuckled, a deep throaty sound that sent a thrill through Telemachus’ chest. “You’ve been my husband for a year, my dove.”

“Not like this,” Telemachus breathed. “Not the way I truly wanted to.” He sighed with a content hum as Peisistratus’ fingers worked the tangles out of his hair.

Peisistratus offered a coy smile. “And yet you call me your Queen.”

Telemachus smiled. “You clearly don’t know my father.”

Okay okay okay. Wait. Wait wait wait. The Telestratus marriage of convenience thing. Omg that… that tickled something in my brain. Marriage of convenience to restrengthen trade for Ithaca after distrust spreads from the suitor slaughtering fiasco or something along those lines maybe, they were friends before from Tele’s travels back before Odysseus returned so the two of them figure “why the hell not he’s a cool guy and it’s not like I have anyone else” cue years of playing it up like they’re OdyPen levels of in love to make it look good and then suddenly realizing “oh… OH… oh NO…” now NEITHER of them are acting but BOTH of them think the other still is and they both joke about it behind closed doors but they’re really NOT joking because they’re down so bad ahhhhhhhh I LOVE this!!

@theshroud-thechallenge-thearrow (dang side blog curse)

Odysseus: Hey so I know you're friends with Nestor's kid Peisistratus. Do you think you could like, I don't know, try dating one of his sisters? Getting a connection between Ithaca and Pylos would be helpful for both of us. Only if you want to, of course. And if you end up falling in love with someone else we can work something out.

Telemachus: ...or I could just get with Peisistratus himself? You know, since he and I are friends then that'll make things easier. We'll get married platonically, help both of our kingdoms, and then when we find people we actually love we'll just have them as "lovers" on the side. That'll take care of the whole heirs thing too.

Odysseus: Yeah, sure, that works.

~A while later~

*"chilling" in their shared bedroom post-marriage*

Telemachus, internally: oh shit oh fuck of shit I actually fell in love with him oh gods this can't be happening I'm the one who told him this idea he thinks that he has such an easy out with this with the whole lovers thing so it's not like I can tell him that I'm actually in love with him...

Peisistratus, internally: oh no I actually fell in love with him oh dear gods he created this plan as just a practical thing he's literally a student of Athena I can't fuck this up by actually falling in love with him I was his first real friend I can't ruin our friendship and what was supposed to be an amicable way to help our kingdoms without any attachment

~Meanwhile~

Odysseus: Man, our son sure is able to sell being in love really well

Penelope: He sure is.

Odysseus: ...

Penelope: ...

Odysseus: So they absolutely caught feelings, right?

Penelope: Obviously.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[mecha--maniac]

If anyone's into it feel free to take this off my hands cause I don't want it:

Metadow where Silver's their kid, facilitated by Metal's mucking about with genetic splicing -- since apparently he's interested in biotech, judging by Heroes -- so insert whatever shipping stuff one wants with them during the 200 years or whatever, and eventually someone gets the bright idea for a test tube baby for some reason, and huh weird it came out looking a lot like that one guy they used to know from the future *wait a minute--*

[leo-regulus]

The ringing in his ears took them across the old mine and into the swamps, but not so far north as to actually delve into Mort Myre. Ingredients for potions could be found along the way: it didn't take long before they were walking slowly but steadily across the marsh.

Veliaf said little, only trudged along beside them, careful with his step. Strom, however, asked questions. Possibly it was shock. Probably, it was shock. But he was still a priest of Saradomin, and more importantly a member of the Myreque, and that meant Saberon could be patient with him.

"What do you mean, a son of Zamorak?"

"I have his jawline, his fire, and soul gems in my forehead, and otherwise I'm the spitting image of my mother according to everyone, and he was the only man she allowed within ten feet of her. Really don't know what else to tell you."

"Does he- did he help us, back there? The way those torches burned black, I thought maybe..."

"Nah, that was me. My father did teach me the importance of intimidation, and if I've learned anything, it's that people listen a whole lot more if they think the actual gods will kill them if they don't. Even if they don't follow Zamorak, they listen when they think he's talking."

"Where are we going?"

"West."

"Where exactly, though? There's a lot of west in the world."

"Fucked if I know."

"Then how do you know we need to go west?"

Saberon sighed, raking a hand through his hair. They were coming up on the Salve now, and if his memory wasn't failing him, they were coming up on a point where the river was both shallow and narrow, if the waters were rapid and churning. "It's like this. I'm half human, so I get all the human things like needing to eat and sleep and being squishier than anyone would like. I'm half Mahjarrat, so I get to shapeshift and live until something kills me and I have some innate magic I can use instead of runes, but it's not easy to do that. But crucially, on top of both of those things, I'm half god, because gods are... Gods are weird."

Veliaf snorted, but didn't say anything. At least he was listening, and not so far into his grief and shock that he couldn't hear them anymore. Saberon nodded, and continued. "A god is, fundamentally speaking, a mortal that has absorbed so much raw anima - magic itself as we use it can generally be considered an impure dilution of anima, difference between a bucket of water and the ocean here - that, ah- right, when they absorb so much that they can twist the inherent anima of a given world to their will."

Strom looked confused. Saberon shrugged. "Look. My father always knew exactly which crops by our village would be full of rot, and which ones would have a good harvest. He'd know that within days of planting them. You could shuffle a deck of cards, and he'd know exactly what card you'll pull from the deck, before you even grab it. Chaos and chance and anima. And how- how that manifests differs, I think, based on the god. But they all do it. They were mortal once, and now they're not, and now they can feel and manipulate the magic of a world the way we manipulate runes."

"That... doesn't explain how you know we need to go west."

"I'm getting there." Really, Strom was getting lucky: trying to explain this back in his university days without the wizards of the Tower figuring out how he knew this had been a nightmare. "For demigods, we get that too, but less, and it's less instinctual, I want to say? My father couldn't teach me how to do what he did. I can't guess at the cards - wish I could, I'd win so many games of poker. What I get, instead, is this low ringing in my ears."

He stopped, listening for a moment, before beginning to snap his fingers, timed to the beat. "Like this. It's coming from west, it's louder in that direction, and I've dealt with this bullshit all my life that I know what that means. If I focus hard enough, and I've got enough energy, all I need to do is put a blindfold on, and I can waltz through just about anything. Follow the ringing in my ears. Doesn't work on conversations, and things where I need to think. But if I just need to act, and move, and deal with magic? I can do it."

"You were blinded for half that fight against Drakan," Veliaf remarked. "You went in against Vanstrom wearing a blindfold."

Saberon nodded. "It's a tradeoff. On one hand, I can't see what they're doing, and you know how bad that is in a fight. On the other, though, so long as I don't lose concentration, they'll basically never hit me. It's not foolproof, it's a skill like anything else, and I can and do fuck it up. But it's a skill I have, and I make good use of it, and right now, the natural chaos of Gielinor says we have to go west, and I'm not going to argue. I'm sure there's some reason for it."

The Salve opened up before them. Halfway to the other side, a small island with a cave opening could be seen, with a bridge to the other side. Past it were high cliffs, sandy at the top. Saberon nodded, satisfied. "Yes, we're making progress," he said.

"How do you plan on getting us across?" Veliaf asked, clearly eyeing the churning waters. The Salve was shallow here, and relatively thin. All that water had to go somewhere, and it did so rapidly, with currents strong enough to sweep away a dragon. Saberon grinned.

"Oh, that's easy. A human is made of four things: blood, bone, shadow, and soul. A Mahjarrat is made of smoke, shadow, blood, and ice, and because I'm both I get to be six things." He raised his left hand, and focused. The top of the waters stilled, for just a moment, before they rose into an icy formation, almost like a bridge. "It won't hold long, though, so let's get a move on."

Veliaf stared at him, doubtful. Strom reached out for Veliaf's hand, and pulled him up onto the ice. Saberon nodded to himself, as the ringing grew louder, and followed.

"He fights primarily with blood magic, but he learned melee from the ripper demons. He tends to use bombs, as a fallback. Sound is a good weakness, if you can manage it. No blind spots to speak of, but you can daze him if you feint with sound."

Vanescula froze. Safalaan and Veliaf stiffened, but did not match her in stillness, all three staring at the man who had spoken.

Saberon's eyes were closed, briefly. From his belt he drew a blisterwood stake, miming out a few thrusts, a parry, a javelin throw. His movements were slow but circular: with every step to one side, he'd crack the opposing glove, sending a soft clang through the room. As if throwing sound in the opposite direction in which he was heading.

"Saberon?" Safalaan asked, hesitant. Vanescula's stunned surprise shifted to anger.

"How do you know that, human?" she spat.

Saberon didn't open his eyes, only continued his slow mimicry, eyebrows furrowed. "Halfsie," he said, almost absently. He had never made a secret of that: he had been the one to confirm Safalaan's half-Icyene heritage, confirmed with a simple blood test he swore up and down had nothing in common with vampyric haemalchemy. Menaphite magic rock people, he'd said, too few in number for anyone to have heard of them here, on his father's side.

His movements, slow and mirroring something he must have been taught years ago, quickened. He spun, sharp on a coin, twisting the blisterwood javelin in his hands. The metal of his gloves clanged. Vanescula covered her ears, looking pained.

Saberon froze, halfway into a thrust, stance smoother than either Veliaf or Safalaan had seen on anyone else in Morytania. "I repeat," Vanescula snarled. Her face was hectic with colour, her ears a little furrier around the edges. "How do you know that, boy?"

Saberon opened his eyes, but did not turn to look at her. "My father taught me, a very long time ago," he said. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but even Strom and Polmafi, at the doors, could hear him. "You keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He knew the score."

"Your father, the magic rock person from Menaphite?" Safalaan asked, a little doubtfully.

"Menaphos," Saberon corrected. "Aye. Given everything I've seen so far, I doubt Lowerniel's techniques have changed since... Since before. Who has challenged him? No one but us."

His face, neutral, shifted more towards anger, eyes on the floor. On the part of his cheek visible to the three, they could see a faint outline of yellow streaks. Almost like tears, unfamiliar to Veliaf and Safalaan, and achingly familiar to Vanescula in a way she couldn't place: she's seen stripes like that before, but where...

Saberon shook his head. "I'm the least squishy person here. If I have to fight him alone, I will. Take out the guards, and make some noise. Vyres echolocate, and I'm half-deaf anyway. The more we can disorient him, the easier it'll be to get a cheap shot through the gut."

"Have you no honour?" Safalaan asked, his tone more awed than disparaging.

Saberon turned, finally, to look his companion in the eye. "He's a tyrant on an empty throne. If it's one thing my father taught me, it was that people like that should die. Every time."

Vanescula wondered, for a moment, where she'd heard words like that before. She had, she could see it in the line of Saberon's jaw, but where...

It didn't matter. He'd be out of her hair soon enough.

[autisticlee]

I once tried to reach out to friends when I was going through a hard experience after they reassured me it was ok to trust and rely on them....got told i'm gaslighting and guilt tripping them.

tried to have boundaries once....but got told i'm being manipulative.

tried to say if my boundaries aren't respected then I have no choice but to leave the relationship behind and move on....got told i'm making threats and abandoning them.

once tried to state that a friend upset me with how they are acting, instead of ignoring my feelings and letting the person continue to hurt me....got told i'm taking out my trauma on them and their trauma/feelings are more important because they want to die.

once tried to communicate and ask for equal communication back and asked them to tell me what they want/need from me so i know what to do/how to handle the situation.....got told that's controlling.

nothing I do is ever right. It's hopeless. pointless. why do I ever try? i'm always misunderstood, always misunderstand, always out to get them and purposely trying to hurt them in their heads. my caring and asking them to communicate their needs because I can't read minds is controlling. my simple boundaries i set are manipulative. my asking for reassurance and support is gaslighting and guilt tripping. why communicate or rely on others or have boundaries or care about others' needs or etc, if doing any of these things just makes me a bad and horrible person? that upsets and hurts others???

why am I so bad at being good?! why do my intentions never matter????? even if they're good intentions, only my horrible lack of being good at anything seems to matter. I talk to my therapist weekly. I google communication stuff almost daily. I study and practice and try so hard to do the right things and THEY ARE STILL NEVER RIGHT! i'm so exhausted and discouraged. I can't communicate or connect with anyone without ruining it. so why even try? why is it so hard? what's wrong with me?! why cant I do anything right or fix anything or keep friends for more than a couple years or connect with people beyond surface level or make them happy and enjoy my existence even a little or ?????? why is being autistic the most lonely and frustrating thing ever!!!!!!

[subaru-meteorlight]

💫.

[depresseddepot]

I'm trying to find ways to slowly ease my way into taking walks (debilitating social anxiety) so I was going to download pokemon go again but my phone is too old :(

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[kanokanokanokanon]

I'm sorry the tags are so long and so many lmao

cats is a great example of a show that doesn't work as a movie because all of the magic of it is in the live performance (the costumes, the dance numbers, the absurdity of it all) and dear evan hansen is a great example of a show that doesn't work as a movie because the show sucks