#she is despite everything...not particularly smart

[jestersarts]

Wanted to make a non-b3 'flayer OC for a while now and finally said fuck it and made a funny little squid.

Her name's Miette and she used to be a seladrine half-drow circus entertainer! She exhibits near-total partialism of personality/memory, still her extremely kind and jovial self even after ceremorphosis.

Her colony...begrudgingly tolerates this, as it consisted of a very sparse amount of runaways who only had a single mature tadpole to spare...

[maskedbyghost]

part 2 to Simon marrying another woman. there will be one more part.

That dreadful day, you didn’t stay for the reception. You couldn’t.

The sight of Simon’s lips pressing against hers, his hands on her waist, was more than you could bear. The weight of it settled in your chest, as you pushed through the church doors and into the biting cold. You told yourself you just needed air, but you kept walking, your heels clicking against the pavement as the world blurred past you.

It’s been seven months since he married her.

Seven months since you watched the love of your life vow to cherish someone else for the rest of his days.

Not you like he promised.

Her.

You tried moving on—tried dating, tried sleeping with other men. But no matter how hard you tried, no one compared. They didn’t know how you liked your coffee after a mission, or the songs you hummed when you thought no one was listening.

They weren’t him.

The team had noticed, of course. How could they not? Soap was the first to say something, pulling you aside after a particularly grueling mission.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

You lied, of course. “I’m fine.”

But Soap wasn’t buying it. “Fine, my arse. You’ve been off for months now. We’re worried about you.”

We.

The word stung more than it should have. You knew they all meant well—Price, Gaz, Soap—they were your family in every way that mattered. But the one person you wanted to notice, the one person who had always been able to read you like an open book, wasn’t yours anymore.

Simon barely looked at you these days. He kept things professional, as though the years you’d spent breaking down each other’s walls had never happened.

You hated him for it. You hated her for taking him from you. But more than anything, you hated yourself—for still loving him despite it all.

Why wouldn’t you? You and Simon were perfect for each other. Everyone saw it. The team had long accepted that you and Simon were a package deal, even when neither had put a label on it.

Everything was great—until she arrived.

She was an old friend of Simon’s, someone he’d known long before the Task Force. You remember the day she was introduced to the team, handpicked for her unique skillset, and vouched for by Simon himself.

Captain Price welcomed her without hesitation, and the rest of the team quickly followed. She was smart, capable, and annoyingly charming.

You wanted to like her. You really did. But something about her never sat right with you.

At first, her friendliness seemed genuine, and her interest in Simon was understandable given their history. She would tell stories about him from the past. You noticed how he seemed to soften around her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he listened. It stung, but you told yourself it was harmless.

Then the games began.

She found ways to insert herself into moments that were once yours and Simon’s alone. If you were paired with him during training drills, she’d casually request to swap partners, laughing it off as wanting to “catch up with an old friend.” On missions, she’d position herself as his backup, leaving you to work with others.

Her manipulation was well calculated. When she slipped into Simon’s good graces, it was so gradual that even he didn’t see it happening.

During a team meeting, she’d mention how Simon had always been the one to “clean up after reckless partners” in the past, glancing at you just long enough to make her point. Or she’d joke about how “some people” needed constant saving in the field, her tone light but her eyes sharp as they flicked in your direction.

Simon rarely reacted to that. But you could see the doubt creeping into his expression, the seeds she was planting beginning to take root.

It wasn’t just her words, either. She had a thing for orchestrating situations that made you look bad without ever appearing to do so intentionally. During one mission, she “accidentally” overlooked a key piece of intel you’d flagged, leading to a delay in the operation. When Simon asked what happened, she apologized but subtly implied that your instructions had been unclear.

Another time, she volunteered to handle a critical piece of equipment, only to claim later that she thought you had already taken care of it. It was small things—barely noticeable—but they added up, each one chipping away at the trust you and Simon had built.

What hurt the most was how easily she slipped into Simon’s world. She knew how to talk to him in a way that made him feel understood, playing on their shared history to create a bond you couldn’t touch. She’d bring up memories from their past, reminding him of a time when life was simpler, safer.

And slowly, Simon began to change.

He second-guessed your decisions in the field. When you tried to talk to him about it, he brushed it off, saying you were overthinking things.

The worst part was that she always made sure to maintain her image as the perfect teammate—loyal, competent, and supportive. To everyone else, she was a godsend, a valuable asset to the team.

But you knew the truth. You saw through her façade, the way she manipulated situations to her advantage, the way she slowly turned Simon against you. And no matter how hard you tried to hold on, to remind Simon of the bond you shared, she was always there, pulling him further away.

And by the time Simon announced his engagement to her, you barely recognized the man you’d fallen in love with. The man who once held you with such tenderness now looked at you as though you were a stranger.

You started to fight with Simon often, because he was a dumb, stupid man who didn’t realize he was being manipulated. You tried to make him see it—the way she twisted things, the way she subtly undermined you—but he wouldn’t listen.

“She’s my friend,” he said once, his jaw tight. “You’re overreacting.”

You hated the way he said it, as if you were imagining things. The man you knew better than anyone, was slipping through your fingers, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The fights grew worse, spilling over from arguments in private to tense exchanges on missions. The team noticed, of course, but no one said anything. They kept their heads down, unwilling to get involved in whatever was happening between the two of you.

Then, one night, while you were on leave, Simon came home to the apartment you shared and started packing his things. You didn’t understand at first, standing frozen in the doorway as he folded his clothes and stuffed them into a duffel bag.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He didn’t look at you. “Leaving.”

“Why?” You stepped closer, trying to put yourself between him and the door. “Simon, please. Just tell me why.”

But he wouldn’t. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

You begged him to stay, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded for an explanation, for anything that could make sense of the sudden shift. But Simon—your Simon—had already made up his mind.

A month later, you saw the photos—Simon and her, sitting side by side at a café, her hand resting on his arm like she’d always belonged there. The smile on his face was small, but it was there, and it broke something inside you.

A few months after that, they were engaged. The wedding followed soon after.

“They want to have a small ceremony,” Soap said. He hadn’t looked at you when he spoke, as if he couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

And now here you were, seven months later, still trying to piece yourself back together while Simon lived a life you were supposed to share with him.

One night, during a late briefing, you caught Simon looking at you. It was just a flicker, his gaze lingering a moment too long, his expression unreadable.

For a second, you thought you saw something—regret, maybe even sorrow—but it was gone before you could be sure. You told yourself you imagined it, that your mind was playing tricks on you, desperate for any sign that he might still care. But the look stayed with you, in your memory next to the happy moments with him.

And so, you wanted to continue living your life normally, and tried to move on, but it was hard. You kept telling yourself it would get easier with time, but time seemed to stand still.

The memories of Simon lingered everywhere—his voice in your head, the way he used to call you “love,” the small habits he’d left behind in your shared life.

You threw yourself into your work, drowning in the chaos of missions and training. But even in the most hectic moments, there was always an ache in the back of your mind, serving like a fucking reminder of the man you’d loved and lost.

You tried dating, fleeting distractions that always ended the same way—with you staring at the ceiling, wondering why no one could make you feel the way Simon did.

But then, one day, something happened.

Price called you to Simon’s office. His tone over the comm was urgent and it made your stomach twist. He didn’t explain, only told you to come immediately.

You hurried down the corridor, your mind racing. Something about Price’s voice told you this wasn’t about a mission or a routine debriefing.

Something was wrong.

When you reached the door, you hesitated for just a moment, hand hovering over the handle. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and pushed it open.

The sight inside made your heart drop.

The office was in ruins—papers scattered across the floor, the desk overturned, a chair broken and lying in pieces. A crack ran through the mirror on the wall, distorting your reflection.

And there, amidst the chaos, was Simon.

He was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees drawn up slightly. His mask was gone, revealing a face filled with exhaustion and pain. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as he muttered the same words over and over, barely audible.

“She ruined my life… she ruined my life…”

Price stood near the door, arms crossed tightly as he watched Simon. When he saw you, his shoulders relaxed slightly, as though he’d been waiting for you.

“Please,” he said quietly. “Talk to him. You’re the only one he might listen to.”

Your throat tightened as you stepped closer, every movement feeling heavy. You knelt a few feet away, your voice soft, almost trembling.

“Simon…”

He looked up at the sound of your voice, his gaze locking with yours. He managed a weak, bitter smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, the words barely more than a whisper.

And then, before you could react, he raised the gun to his head.

PART 3

-------------------------------------------

yup. this is a perfect place to stop. gonna go hide now hehe

(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged)

@daydreamerwoah @postm0rt3m @blacpiink @nightunite @surprisinglydreaming @shybasementtree @foxwitch666 @snaaaaaaaaaked @somethingsaladsomething @massivescissorsthingperson @abbeyskeff @a66-1 @mortem-writes @jupitersmoon167 @blankk3 @yxfairyrx @balletbiscuit @pickyourpoisonandevolve @emilia527 @midgalaxysparkle @0bonnie-bunny0 @kittygonap @babybimbo777 @johnnyshoe @probably--possessed

[mariasont]

Okay okay, so this doesn't have to be smutty if you don't want but enemies to lovers Spencer, they banter and fight at work they just can't get along * cough sexual tension cough* she is like really short, 5 foot nothing. And one day during an argument she goes "I'll climb you like a tree!" Trying to be intimidating but it comes off as something entirely 😂

Climb You Like A Tree

A/N: ahhhh thank you so much for the request--loved, loved, loveddd writing this! <3 xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings: suggestive flirting, enemies to lovers

wc: 1.1k

From the moment you joined the BAU, you were immediately drawn to Dr. Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy. You were hooked on his random facts, and his rare snarky comments--essentially everything about him.

But that admiration swiftly turned into exasperation after just a week of working alongside him. What began as quirky charm quickly soured; his random facts, once amusing, now felt like thinly veiled jabs, and his 'occasional' snark became a relentless critique targeting you. You were at a loss, unable to pinpoint the exact misstep that had seemingly placed you on the receiving end of his pointed barbs, but it was clear you had inadvertently crossed some invisible line.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you were an unwelcome replacement for Alex in his eyes. But surely, he couldn't blame you for that, could he? You tried to overlook his subtle digs, to treat them as mere background noise, but god he made it hard.

Month after month, you kept your head down, refusing the grant him the reaction he so desperately wanted. You were new and hesitant about your place on the team, so you bore the blunt of his jabs with a diplomatic smile.

By the fourth month, you'd reached your breaking point, and you unleashed your own brand of sharp-tongued retorts. You were known for your smart mouth in your old department--a skill that had made you both a standout and a frequent flyer in the disciplinary office. You could sense the team's growing frustration at your constant bickering. Yet, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the singular abilities you both contributed, a balance that tipped in the favor of necessity.

Today had been particularly challenging, your most recent case had ended in the death of seven victims before the unsub ultimately killed himself, taking the locations of the victims with him. So, when you landed and were greeted not by a moment's rest but by a mocking monolith of paperwork, you were at your wits end.

"Could you click that pen any louder?" you grumbled, your eyes blazing with irritation as they met Spencer's, causing for a momentary pause in your flurry of activity.

"Technically, yes. The Doppler Effect dictates that the perceived volume changes with distance, so if I were to move closer to you, the clicking would indeed sound louder to you," Spencer retorted with a sardonic edge, inching closer across the desk, his pen's clicks swelling in volume as if to underscore the scientific principle he so carefully threw upon you.

"Come any closer and I swear I'll shove that pen where the sun doesn't shine."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

You bit back the words that sat on the tip of your tongue, acutely aware of Hotch's scrutinizing stare. If was reprimand was on the horizon, you were determined not to be the recipient, despite Spencer's knack for bushing your buttons. The worst part of it all was how undeniably attractive you found Spencer to be--you liked his nerdy comments, the way you had to break your neck to look at him, and even that stupid smirk of his.

It was like a twisted game of fuck, marry, kill--except Spencer was your choice for all three, a secret you'd never admit to anyone. God knows that his ego was already overinflated.

"You know, while acai berries themselves are rich in antioxidants, the bowls are often misleadingly marketed as superfoods. In reality, the excessive amounts of granola, sweetened fruits, and added sugars make it the equivalent of dressing up a dessert as a fruit salad."

Your spoon paused mid-air suspended in the stillness of the break room, as your gaze drifted upwards to lock with Spencer's. A smirk unfurled across your lips, and with deliberate slowness, you savored a slow, exaggerated mouthful, the spoon exiting your mouth with a prolonged, tantalizing pull. A contented moan escaped you. "Mmm, nothing beats a bowl of disguised indulgence. Thanks for the insight, but this 'fruit salad' just became a tad sweeter."

You observed him as he stood, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to your lips with an intensity that bordered on reverence. Anticipating his usual quick-witted comeback, you were met with silence. "Aww, what's the matter, wonder boy? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not at all, but it wouldn't hurt for the cat to catch yours for a change," he replied, stepping forward, his stare cutting through the space between you. 

"Look who's talking. When you finally decide to censor your own commentary, that's when I'll consider silence," you pronounced, your acai bowl abandoned on the counter as a wave of irritation surged within you, propelling you forward.

"Censor my commentary? Trust me, If I didn't, we'd be having a very different conversation right now," he murmured, his frame inching so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You must love the sound of my voice to be this close. Remind me again about the Doppler Effect?" you snapped, attempting to sound unaffected, but your body betrayed you--a rush of warmth blooming over your face. "Or is it just my personal bubble that's too tempting?"

"Are you always this flustered when someone invades your space, or am I the exception?" he teased, stepping in even closer, nearly pressing against you. Your gazes locked in a silent challenge as you tilted you head up defiantly, your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

"Flustered? Hardly. I'm just sizing up the tree before I climb," you declare, your gaze sharpening to fine points. "And you're not as tall as you think."

A sudden burst of laughter spilled from Spencer, a rich sound that echoed through the minimal space between you. He didn't step back, your chests touching. The sound jolted you, and as the weight of your own words hit you, a fierce blush flared across your cheeks, your embarrassment impossible to hide.

"Wait, that's not--ugh!" you stammer, but Spencer is already retreating towards the bullpen, his laughter trailing behind him, taunting you. Your voice echoes down the hallway as you hurry after his figure. "Spencer!"

At the bullpen's entrance, Spencer halts, turning to address the team with a grin. "Guess who just said she's planning to climb me like a tree?" he announces, your words now on display for the entire team. Heat creeps into your cheeks as you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Called it!" Penelope's voice rang up, her hands waving like she was directing a parade. "Profiler? Please, I didn't need a badge to see this coming. Doubters, eat your hearts out. Get it, girl!"

"I said 'like a tree' in a metaphorical sense, guys. You know, like overcoming obstacles...not literally climbing Spencer!" you mumble, your face hidden behind your hands, the embarrassment radiating from your cheeks.

With a lean that closed the gap between you, Spencer's voice was low and teasing, "Keep telling yourself that."

[meanbossart]

Can we learn more about Izzy and Grod? What’s their signs and love language(s)?

Izzantar is a major character in ANE! Because of that, mind you that pretty much everything I'm about to say next is a spoiler for the fic.

He was raised a mercenary alongside his older brother, his parents are alive but don't have much of a relationship with them aside from getting reports of their progress and achievements from the institution they live in and "work" for (it's not like he gets paid as much as just provided for) essentially, him and his sibling belongs to the institution itself. At the "present" time (during ANE) he is 32 years old and his brother is freshly dead.

Izzantar does not excel particularly in combat or magic, but he has a knack for getting his way regardless. He is the type of person who understands the system he is in and has chosen to play it to his benefit instead of making any efforts to escape or improve his situation by honest means. This works fairly well for him. He's a favorite of the head matron and has transactional relationships with several people around his area, including the slaves. He's "friends" with a hobgoblin who provides him with recreational drugs and spreads the word that he's a little more laxed than the other drow, basically. When he's not being a secret rebel, he is flawlessly sucking up to his superiors; however, he's been on edge since the death of his brother, which according to drow culture should have elevated him to first-born status and allowed him a smidge more respect from his peers, parents and superios - except that hasn't happened, and Izzantar is now starting to crumble under the stress of his situation.

Through a series of... Events, Izzantar will eventually end up on the surface and without the option of ever returning home.

He meets Grodderick through a common acquaintance of Astarion's. The half-orc is huge people's person and he's immediately amused by Izzantar's fish-out-of-water situation. Izzantar actually feels more comfortable with him than he does to any of the other people around for complicated reasons, so they become buddies of sorts. Later friends with benefits. And sometime after that they enter a romantic partnership.

Grodderick is somewhere in his late-twenties/early-thirties. He was raised by a single, half-elf mother who was ostracized for having a half-orc child. He was a difficult, angry kid who left home when he was 14 years old and made a living through any means - seedy or otherwise - traveling a great deal through Faerun in the process and always making money just as quickly as he burned through it with booze and gambling. He eventually gets back in touch with his mother through correspondence and starts sending some of the gold he made to her instead - when she passes away, he returns home to find out she had just kept it for him instead of using it for herself. From that point forward, Grodderick decides to try and settle down instead of continuing with his criminal career.

He uses his mother's savings to get by while he jumps from town to town and works small, manual labor jobs. Eventually, he gets something more permanent with a wealthy real estate investor in a city called Pran - an eccentric lady called Nathanya Shaltiel who hires him to maintain her estate and accompany her through/act out financial dealings in her stead.

Overall, Grodderick has just done a lot of growth over the course of his life and turned out to be a really chill and smart guy. He's a big reader, he can make friends with almost anybody, he's extremely laid back. He smokes (🌿), he doesn't drink alcohol anymore, but he still likes to hang out at an inn or pub for the company. He keeps in touch with a couple of his old friends who are still living a very different life.

Despite coming from very different backgrounds, Izzantar kind of reaches the same conclusion eventually WRT what he wants - to just settle down and try to live as stress-free as possible. He proves to be a very loving person in his weird way and Grodderick is fine with that - he thinks that his drow temperament is hysterical most of the time - the rest of the time, he's telling him that whatever he just said/did doesn't fly on the surface, and it especially won't fly with him, lol.

Their relationship revolves a lot around cultural exchange, I guess, and relies heavily on Grodderick's ability to understand, without judgement, why someone may feel attached to aspects of their homes/upbringing that others may consider cruel or barbaric. It also helps him reflect on his own, complicated relationship with his orc-ish roots, since he now has someone around who doesn't find the inherit violence of that history particularly shocking or strange.

At some point he gets Izzantar a cat. Izzantar gives it a really traditional drow name that translates to like "Champion of Death" or something but any time anyone casts Speak With Animals on the thing it's just going "love mommy :3 oooohhh want pets from mommy :3 love mommy so much". Izzy spends years trying to turn it into a killing machine but all it does is bring him socks and underwear.

I don't know what their love language/signs are, but they like to take turns talking about each other's days and Izzantar gets mad when Grodderick doesn't wake him up when he comes home from a late shift. Grodderick's secret guilty pleasure is boasting to his friends that he's got a hot drow wife who won't get off his dick, LOL.

[wynnerwynner]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇

avengers au!joaquin torres x female!toxikensis!reader

synopsis: y/n and joaquin have to keep their relationship hidden due to the avenger’s unspoken rule. meanwhile, joaquin shows y/n she is more than her trauma.

request: yes

warnings: hints at murder, trust issues, happy ending

wc: 3.2k

a/n: i never said i was good at endings y'all 😫. also if anyone has any tips for tmj pain let me know bc im bouta go ape shit

There was no written rule for “no sexual relations among teammates”, however, it was heavily implied. After Natasha and Bruce’s relationship crashed and burned, rumours of teammates possibly hooking up or even liking each other seemed to set everyone on edge. It was too much of a risk, one person favouring another’s safety during missions or getting distracted. The only exception was for Vision and Wanda, who the team did not exactly count as committing a crime because Vision lacked human error.

As someone who was closed off, Y/N had never thought much of the rule. She’d conditioned herself to keep a distance from people, even after learning to tame her poison abilities. She was so used to burning someone’s skin by simply touching them or poison someone by sharing a drink that the idea of being able to return to some of her previous indulgences was discomforting. However, with Joaquin’s arrival, that rule suddenly flashed before her eyes like an obnoxious billboard.

Joaquin was speechless when he first met Y/N. He’d seen her in the media but in person, she took his breath away. When he’d tried to shake her hand, she stared at it for a moment before returning the formality. As their skin touched, she looked him in the eye and offered him a small smile. She was quiet, but he could almost see the gears turning as though she had come up with a particularly smart response in her head. He could tell that despite the cold exterior, she was all fire within.

The first time Joaquin went to the gym to train with his new teammates, Y/N was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked Sam.

“She doesn’t like to train with us,” he answered.

“She has her own space down the hall,” Natasha pointed over her shoulder. “Something to do with not wanting to hurt anyone.”

The room Y/N trained in was similar in size to a shipping container. The longest walls were made of glass but the shorter were of cement. He watched her from the other side of the glass, fighting off Tony’s training drones and dummies. As she raised her hands, thick neon-green liquid rose to her fingertips and sprayed out at the training dummy. She took down three others by blowing a cloud of yellow, billowing gas at them. Joaquin clapped, causing her to look around with furrowed brows. She went over to a high-tech panel a few feet from him and when she tapped a few buttons, her eyes widened as they caught his.

He raised a friendly hand with an abashed smile, “Sorry.”

Y/N only assessed him, then turned back to her work.

Joaquin proceeded took the long route to the gym every morning. His new path allowed him to walk past her training room and the more he passed by, the more sure he was sure she’d stopped using the two-way glass feature. One time, he caught her as she was exiting.

“You’re late,” she commented.

It was so rare to hear her speak that he savoured every syllable.

She was right, though. He was very late to training that morning.

“Yeah, I was on the phone with my mom,” he sighed. “I love her but sometimes I feel like she’ll never let me go.”

Y/N cracked an almost imperceptible smile and nodded.

“How come you practice alone?” he asked.

Her eyes roved over him, detailing his appearance for the morning. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news.”

“Don’t believe everything you see online.”

Y/N’s snort brought a smile to his face. It was like an achievement, making her laugh. To others it was nothing, but to him it felt like everything.

“It’s safer this way,” she glanced back at the darkened room.

“But you’ve learned to control your powers, right?”

Her head cocked and she peered at the ground. “I’ve been meaning to tell you…” She hesitated, “Thank you for shaking my hand.”

Joaquin’s brows furrowed. What an odd thing to thank him for.

“It’s only the polite thing,” he replied.

Y/N looked from one of his eyes to the other. He couldn’t tell if she was studying him or judging him. He felt like he was missing something. Without another word, she walked away.

Another morning, Joaquin knocked on the glass and waved her over. She stuck her head out the crystal door, waiting for him to speak.

“Hi,” he smiled with a sigh. “Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to get some food sometime? Not—not as a date, just… just to get to know my teammate. I think you’re really cool and—”

“I don’t eat out,” she interjected his rambling.

“Why not?”

Her lips flattened into a line and she pushed her sweaty baby hairs from her forehead. “It’s not safe. I’m like a virus. I could kill someone by them touching my fork.”

“You touched me and I’m still here. See?” He held up the hand she shook.

Y/N sighed and pulled the door closed. Joaquin jammed his foot between it before it could fully close and grabbed the door.

“Let me cook for you,” he offered.

“That’s—”

“I can buy disposable dishes or you can wash them yourself,” he spoke quickly. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

The look in his eyes was desperate and she almost felt bad saying no. She looked him over again, then nodded.

That had started it all. Y/N had spoke more than she had in a long time. As time went on, he would catch her in the halls and make conversation. He even managed to make her fully smile.

One late night, Joaquin found her sitting on the edge of the koi pond in the lobby, a ceramic bowl in one hand. He hadn’t seen her in anything other than workout clothing or their suits. A smile graced her lips as she dropped food into the pond. He’d never seen her so relaxed.

“Doesn’t Stark have someone doing that for him?”

Her head whipped to meet his gaze.

Joaquin cringed, “Sorry.”

Y/N returned to her fish, dropping a small piece of orange into the pond. The fish leapt at the food, splashing water on her sweats, but she didn’t seem to mind. “He does,” she replied to his inquiry. “When she’s on vacation I do it for her.”

“At one in the morning?”

She eyed him, “You’re one to talk.”

Joaquin chuckled at her quip. “Do you mind?”

At a shake of her head, he sat himself beside her. He watched her take another piece of orange and hold it out to him. Her fingers brushed his skin as she set the wet fruit in his palm and he wanted to say he was proud of her but was afraid it might scare her off.

“Did you know,” she began, grabbing some orange, “koi can recognize people?”

Joaquin watched her put her hand in the water and four fish fought for the food in her hand. He couldn’t look away from her satisfied smile. It made him feel giddy, like a school boy with a crush again. She made him feel things he hadn’t in a long time.

“Go on.”

Joaquin did a double take as he realized from her words that he had been staring. Instead of her usual blank expression she offered him, a small smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Do I just… drop it in?” he asked, angling his hand over the water.

Y/N nodded encouragingly.

Joaquin let go of the fruit and a laugh left his lips as they dove for it. This time, it was Y/N’s turn to be caught staring. They both couldn’t seem to look away. Caught up in the moment, Joaquin reached for her free hand. His breathing picked up as she didn’t pull away from his touch. Her skin was warm, just as he’d imagined. He ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. A smile twitched across her lips and when it fully appeared, his world felt a little brighter.

“You’re beautiful,” he found himself saying.

Y/N looked to the wall of windows, out to the hanger across the property. The light of the moon and the glow of the lamplights illuminated her face. She came back to him, peering at their hands. Y/N raised her hand and he thought for a moment she was going to push him away, but she didn’t. Joaquin could only watch as she raised his palm to her cheek. His fingers were covered in the juice from the orange but she didn’t seem to care. As he ran his thumb under her eye, she closed her eyes.

“When I first came here,” she began, “no one shook my hand. They weren’t trying to be rude, I know that, but they knew what I was. They were afraid, even if they didn’t want to admit it.”

Joaquin almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he also wasn’t surprised. She’d joined the Avengers years before him and if he guessed correctly, the articles that came out about her accidentally killing people because of her powers were still fresh on people’s minds. The only difference between Joaquin and the rest of the team was that by the time he joined, people with superpowers were normalized and rarely went about the world terrorizing others on purpose. Joaquin knew there was no way Steve Rogers would have agreed to have her on the team if she was a danger.

After that night at the koi pond, things began as innocent brushes, small conversations while their teammates were around, shooting a glance to each other across tables.

Y/N had kissed him first. He wanted to give her the control—only advance things when she was comfortable. The more she’d pull him into empty hallways and kissed him before running off again, the more comfortable he was with waiting for her. Joaquin was addicted to her and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

After a while, he suggested she try using the same gym as them. The day she’d walked in, almost all eyes were on her. Joaquin had caught her rigid shoulders and took advantage of Sam’s distraction, slamming him to the mat with a loud smack. The entire room looked to Joaquin standing over Sam. Bucky’s laugh echoed from his spot on the bench.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Sam exclaimed.

“Never let your guard down, Sam,” Natasha smirked. “Good one Joaquin.”

“No, man, get away from me,” Captain America smacked Joaquin’s offered hand.

He laughed, teasing him, “Don’t be such a sore loser, Cap.”

“Listen, I’ll get you back,” he pointed as he went for his water bottle.

Joaquin took the momentary breather to find Y/N again. She was wrapping her hands, preparing to use the punching bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at him and nodded her thanks.

Joaquin made sure to distract them any time she entered the gym and eventually, he didn’t have to anymore. The team could see she was getting more comfortable and yet no one seemed to question her sudden change in attitude. Natasha began to spar with Y/N, helping perfect her moves and teach her new ones. Joaquin was proud as he watched her day after day grow closer with their team. He was happy seeing her be herself, understanding that she wasn’t defined by her past.

After months of hiding their relationship, Joaquin strode into the kitchen late at night. Natasha was leaning back against the counter, spooning yoghurt into her mouth.

“You looking forward to tomorrow?” he asked.

Tony was hosting his annual Stark Expo and the Avengers attendance was mandatory.

“Not really,” she mumbled. “I’ll probably show up an hour before it ends. Then Tony can’t say I didn’t show.”

Joaquin chuckled as he grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. “That’s smart.”

Natasha watched as he got out a cutting board, knife, and bowl.

“You gonna bring anyone?” she asked.

“Why? Wanna be my date?”

Natasha cringed, but a laugh escaped her. “You’re a little too young for my taste, kid. Besides, I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

“Because of the no-dating-teammates rule?” he cut the orange into small pieces.

Natasha was quiet as she scraped the last of the yoghurt from the cup. Joaquin glanced up to find a small smile on her lips.

“You going to feed the fish?” she asked.

“Uh…” he looked down at the sticky mess on the counter, “yeah.”

“Sometimes thing echo around here, you know?” Natasha smirked. “Walls are made of glass. Lots of open space in the lobby.”

Joaquin continued to cut up the orange. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”

“Won’t tell anyone what?” he chuckled, feigning confusion.

Natasha threw out her yoghurt cup and put the spoon in the dishwasher.

“You’re a good liar, Captain,” she said as she made her way back to the hall. “It takes one to know one.”

Natasha disappeared toward the bedrooms with a wink, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.

The next night, Joaquin was dressed in his best suit. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Y/N in her outfit. She was the definition of beautiful. There were a few times he was sure his teammates had caught him admiring her. 

Thor suddenly clapped a tipsy hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. The Falcon bent slightly at the knees from the weight of his grip.

“You’re a good man, Captain Falcon,” the god slurred a little. “You deserve a good woman. Y/N seems good, too.”

Joaquin had laughed awkwardly, trying his best to come up with a way out of the situation. “Thanks, man.”

“You should ask her out,” Thor encouraged.

“I don’t know…”

“What? Are you scared? Never be afraid, little man,” he squeezed a little harder with a good shake and Joaquin had to fight back a groan from the throbbing of his shoulder blade. “You need not be afraid of women. Or men. Whichever you prefer. You know, my brother is—”

“I don’t think that’d be fair to everyone,” Joaquin quickly replied. “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward.”

“You’re a good man,” Thor tapped him a little too hard on the cheek. “I’m sure no one would mind.”

Joaquin searched for Y/N in the sea of people as Thor walked away. He didn’t care if people noticed him staring. Maybe Thor was right. If they kept it professional around their teammates as they already had, there would be no harm. Besides, if Vision and Wanda could move out and build a family together, why couldn’t he and Y/N have a life of their own, too?

 That night, when their formal clothes were on the floor and Y/N lay against his chest, Joaquin spoke into the dark, “I think we should tell them.”

Y/N lifted her head, looking at him through the golden lamp light, “What?”

“Natasha knows,” he admitted. “And Thor—”

“Don’t tell me he does, too,” she sat up. “He can’t keep a secret, Joaquin. If he knows, everyone does.”

“Y/N,” he cradled her face in his hands. “He doesn’t know.”

She sighed, but her lips remained in a flat line.

“Thor suggested I ask you out. I told him it wouldn’t be fair to the team but he said he didn’t think they’d mind.”

“And you agree.”

Joaquin brushed his thumb under her eye, “Y/N, I love you and I want everyone to know. We’ve already done great at hiding it so it shouldn’t be difficult to continue keeping it professional once it’s out there.”

“When we put it out there, they will make assumptions,” she argued. “They will disregard how everything’s been in the past and they’ll think we can’t handle working together.”

He knew her words were coming from a place of anxiety and he didn’t wish to push her, only to reassure. She was good at listening and considering opinions, even if she didn’t agree at the time.

“These people aren’t just our teammates,” he said carefully. “They’re our family. Natasha and Bruce broke up, but they’re still cordial. They don’t make it uncomfortable for us because they are professionals and we are all there for each other. Most of these people don’t have anyone outside the compound they can call family.”

Joaquin never brought it up again after that night. He would let her think about it for as long as she wanted.

After a couple of days, Y/N decided she didn’t want to be cold anymore. She realized that she’d been using her trust issues as an excuse and a deluded explanation for why she didn’t deserve happiness. Joaquin and Thor were right, they wouldn’t care because they trusted each other.

She’d kept herself locked away for too long. She’d been scared of how people would perceive her for too long. Joaquin had proved to her that she was worthy of love; that she was perfect the way she was. It wasn’t fair to him to keep them hiding any longer, but it especially wasn’t fair to herself. She deserved to be something more than the water that had devoured her all those years ago. It may have ate at her blood and altered her brain, but her heart was still hers.

She deserved love.

The team sat in the common area eating take out together. Joaquin stood at the counter with Sam and Bucky when he caught sight of Y/N entering from the hallway. She stopped in the archway and looked at him before eyeing the rest of their teammates. The room went quiet as they took notice of her clear need to say something.

“Joaquin and I are dating.”

The room erupted in voices. Joaquin flinched at the sudden noise, almost choking on a piece of broccoli. Sam looked to him with wide, excited eyes.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed. “I told you!” he looked to Bucky, who smiled into his food with a shake of his head.

“I would like everyone to know this was my doing,” Thor raised a hand. “I set this up.”

“No, you did not,” Pietro laughed.

“I did!” the god insisted. “I suggested he ask her out.”

“How long have you been dating?” Wanda asked the couple over her shoulder.

Joaquin looked to Y/N, who stared at him like a deer in headlights. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.

“Almost a year,” Joaquin said.

“Yo, what the hell, man?” Sam back-handed him in the chest.

From the couch, Rhodey whistled.

“I thought we were close,” Sam continued teasingly.

“I can’t believe you two have been doing it under my roof for almost a year and I didn’t know,” Tony quipped, face serious.

“God, Tony,” Natasha chastised.

“Tony, really?” Rhodey reached over to Peter, clamping his hands over his ears. “There are children present.”

“I’m twenty-five!” Peter exclaimed, pushing his hands away.

Joaquin’s smile at Y/N from across the room seemed to shake her from her thoughts. She broke the distance and he slid an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the excitement of the room.

“I only have one rule,” Tony said, catching everyone’s attention. “No kids under my roof. I don’t need any of those around here, especially ones shooting poison darts at me while I try to enjoy my breakfast.”

Joaquin laughed and gazed down at Y/N who hid against his chest. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she squeezed him reassuringly.

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Burdened — L. Howlett

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based on this request!!!!

CW/Tags: not proofread bc I literally finished this at 5am 😭, Logan is an ASS, a lot lot of feelings, lowk heavy angst I THINK, no use of Y/N, don't like don't read.

A/N: @rambosgirl Ily girlie I really enjoyed writing this :33 I AM SO INSANELY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG !!!!!!! Also while writing the ending of this my Spotify Smart Shuffle fucking played First Love/Late Spring by Mitski and I swear it knows how fitting it is bro wtaf ok LAST statement but like this is my first 1K+ word fic are you guys proud of me :33 I'm starting this at like 3am so don't bully me if the ending doesnt' make sense ok byeeeeeeeee

WC: 1.6K (get comfy guys) / Navigation

It was unnecessarily irritating. And frankly really, really fucked up.

Anytime you turned your back from a seemingly butterfly-inducing interaction with Logan, you found him all over Jean as if he wasn’t just chatting you up four minutes ago.

Jean Grey was—from what you’ve surveyed over your time at the mansion—not really phased, despite her somewhat established relationship with Scott. She was intelligent and good-natured, flashing you sickeningly sweet smiles in the corridors and occasionally complimenting your outfits as if hers weren’t twice as stunning.

But every time you spotted Logan gazing down at her with the look you thought he’d reserved for your eyes only, the image of perfection the redheaded telepath had materialised in front of you dissipated like a glass of ice left to liquefy under the scorching sun.

Because she never pushed him away, and she was so clearly inevitably attracted, whether she displayed it or not. It was virtually written all across her sharp features, and you knew the same was scripted all over your own when speaking to Logan.

That dip your heart made every time you saw the two’s chemistry from afar; it wasn't just blatant jealousy. 

It was deeper.

It was nastier.

It clung to your insides like a weight you couldn't possibly shake off. The constant sense that you were just a swift distraction, a momentary diversion from the real object of his desire. 

It ate you up from the inside out and exhausted you to no end.

When Storm or Rogue cautiously approached you and tried to console you, you shrugged it off as if it was some uncomplicated highschool sweetheart drama. They knew damn well it wasn’t. Your conflicting feelings for Logan were gradually making you lose yourself— your well-built dignity. You were slowly but surely morphing into someone you didn’t even recognise. Someone who accepted being second best without any contemplation.

All for a man who was immortal. All for someone who presumably considered you a fleeting paragraph in his primitive life while he was an entire novel in yours.

You wanted— needed to locate yourself in the vast body of water which was your feelings. You needed your sense of self-worth to reappear by a miracle, nevertheless, you knew it would take immense time and exertion to track it back down.

But in a wretched attempt to do so, you settled on a fairly elaborate plan and started disregarding each one of Logan’s advances. Suddenly, you conveniently had somewhere else to be every time he approached, you pulled back and overlooked his easy smiles along with the playful banter you practically used to feed off of.

At first, it felt as if you were reclaiming some of your power, spotting his perplexed looks in your peripheral vision as you wandered off to God knows where. But of course, everything you did came back to bite you in the ass. If anything, it only made the truth clearer. He barely even noticed, and if he did, he didn’t give a single shit.

And Jean? She remained unbothered, untouchable— flawless, even. You were the mastermind of this whole game, yet you were the only one losing.

After a particularly humiliating stretch of witnessing Logan and Jean’s shared giggles and stolen looks from across the table, you ultimately found your resolve. Alcohol really was liquid courage, because after a few drinks and several stabs of food, you closed in on them lounging on the couch post-meal. 

Logan’s bare arm was extended across the back of the grimy cushions behind Jean like some kind of cheesy rom-com, cowlicks a prominent silhouette against the weak flickering of the television. But no matter how much you resented them— her, you would never even come by the opportunity to be in the redhead’s position.

“Howlett,” you enunciated, voice sharp enough to slice through the ambient noise like a shard of glass.

Howlett. No other soul could call him that without repercussions. Aside from you. That was why you felt so unique, so distinct from the others, that was the crumb of specialty you were desperately clinging on to.

He shifts to glance over his shoulder, a spark of recognition igniting within him at the sound of your voice—not missing the shred of urgency concealed beneath it. “Hm? What's up?”

You hesitate with your next words, intently but subtly taking in his scruffy features in the dimmed lighting for what felt like it could be the final time. Because after this, you knew for a fact neither one of you could view each other in the same way. You were the one who let him under your skin, you were the one who had to tear him out, and it unfortunately was an agonisingly slow process.

“We need to talk.”

Four words. Yet, it still gave you the sensation of several weights placed upon your back; the unavoidable impending argument, manipulation spat right into your face, and the most dreaded of all, how circumstances would be after tonight.

His expression stiffened mildly as he reluctantly got up from the couch, aged leather groaning beneath his weight. The sensation of Jean abruptly invading the back of your mind was extremely unsettling and even though she appeared unphased, she, without a question, detected your abnormal uneasiness and was gingerly flicking through your thoughts.

Which was apprehensive, to say the least.

Logan fell into step with you as you departed from one of the many doddering living rooms, proceeding to a more secluded space nearing the obnoxious stairs in front of the grand entryway, mansion almost bizarrely silent with all the kids asleep. Jean wasn’t in your head anymore, but she undoubtedly already knew your objectives to the script.

You halted and so did Logan, weight finding its position set upon the auburn wood of the stairs. 

He eyed you with undivided attention. Your stomach threatened to do a fucking flip despite the conditions, the look nearly making you scrap all of this and go right back to being his side piece regardless of the anguish it put your mind through. But you dug your heels in, the clearing of your throat echoing sharply off the vacant walls.

You square your shoulders and tilt your chin up boldly, aiming to stand your ground. “What the hell am I to you? Because from what I see and a whole lot of other people do, I’m just an afterthought. Filler for the gaps Jean left open. Care to elaborate on that, Howlett?” 

He sighed, glancing at the wall behind you as if he was already fed up. “It’s not like that, bub. You’re makin’ it bigger than it is.”

Your blood scorched at the casual dismissal. Your voice inevitably rose but doesn’t go over a whisper, “Don’t patronise me, Logan,” you scoff. “I’m not some stupid kid with a stupid crush, so don’t let your ego get out of hand. I’ve watched you get all up on her, and then come to me when she’s got a class. Do you even fucking hear yourself?” 

His jaw stiffened, his own frustration growing. “You really think it’s that easy? I never asked you to get involved. You know how it is with me and her. You don’t get how fucked my life is, it’s your own fuckin’ fault things got messy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go sulk somewhere else, I don’t give a shit how crappy your life is. It doesn’t take much to be a decent fucking human!— mutant, whatever. I’m not gonna let you come crying to me when things don’t work out with Jean. I’m worth more than that. You can’t see that, it’s your damn problem, not mine.”

He was visibly trying to find his footing, and you took it as an opportunity to carry on, “It’s not my fault this got sloppy. You can’t just invite a woman for a nice drive and end up throwing her out the door a moment later. You knew damn well what you were doing to m—” 

“You don’t know what I gotta deal with every day. It’s difficult. I never wanted it to get like this. You were the one overthinkin’ it.”

You shook your head forcefully, exasperation boiling over. “I don’t give a fuck, Logan— stop hiding behind that, you don’t even remember half of your damn life! It’s not messy, it’s cruel. I’ve had my own trouble, but I don’t use it as an excuse to hurt people who care about me. Don’t put all of it on my back.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but you cut him off. “Don’t. Don’t say anything. I’ve dealt with you for half my time here. I’ve had enough of your bullshit.” A flash of remorse graced his eyes but it didn’t do a thing. 

“I’m not your backup plan. I’m not waiting for you to look at me the way you look at Jean. I deserve someone who doesn’t just act like they give a shit. I’ve made my choice and you’ve made yours. I’m done. Goodnight, Howlett.”

With a harsh turn of your heel, you walked away with a heavy heart. But your head was clear for the first time in months, your shoulders were lighter, and the clarity you felt nearly blew your veins out. It would be painstakingly tough to face him tomorrow morning, but you knew you would get over it eventually.

Also i just realised in the morning Washing Machine Heart works WAYYy better but it's whatever I guess 😮‍💨

[shadowkoo]

Station Seventeen - an SVT Mini Collab

Introducing Station Seventeen—a sizzling firefighter-themed collaboration that delves into the lives of four fearless friends, united by their relentless devotion to danger, duty, and desire.

Each story peels back the layers of one hero, revealing their triumphs on the frontlines, battles within, and the smoldering romances that ignite when they least expect it. From facing the searing heat of blazing infernos to navigating the even hotter trials of betrayal and forbidden love, these stories are a perfect blend of pulse-pounding action and raw, emotional passion.

At Station Seventeen, courage burns bright, brotherhood runs deep, and love is the fire they never saw coming.

UP IN FLAMES ↳ read here

❖ seungcheol x f.reader ❖ written by raven @shadowkoo

When your sister calls with an emergency, you drop everything to house-sit while she’s out of town. What she forgets to mention is that her fiancé’s friend, a handsome stranger who might have saved your life earlier, is already expecting to stay there too. Awkwardly sharing the space, you manage to get through two weeks with Seungcheol—only to unexpectedly cross paths again when he saves you from another dangerous situation outside your therapist’s office. Seungcheol, a wildland firefighter, is back in the city taking his leave and debating whether to join Station 17 or return home. While sorting out his own issues, he keeps finding himself in situations where he has to save you—the fiery, stubborn little sister of his best friend’s fiancée who has a terrible habit of calling him the most obnoxious nicknames ever. Despite your resistance to being rescued (and his denial of how much you affect him), the sparks between you two continue to ignite. As you grow closer, it’s only a matter of time before everything goes up in flames.

HAZMAT ROMANCE ↳ coming soon

❖ wonwoo x f.reader ❖ written by alta @haologram

Through hazes of smoke and odd games of Solitaire, Wonwoo always manages to find you. Whether it's for comfort, for fun, for...what he thinks are the straggling strings of love — Wonwoo finds you. A romance forged from flames and full of debris, it's not long until there is a moment in time where you can't find him.

THE INFERNO ↳ coming soon

❖ mingyu x f.reader ❖ written by sev�� @aaagustd

You can remember the first time your elementary school visited a fire station. From that day on, you've always dreamed of becoming one of the brave men and women. That didn't go exactly as planned, but as the chief of Station 17 secretary, you're lucky to get a glimpse of some of the action. This place has its share of chaos, drama, and...romance. Sometimes it's hard to keep all the spicy stories to yourself, but you'd never tell a soul about what goes down once the engine rolls in. The Inferno; however, will spill all the tea. As the writer behind one of the internet's most scandalous romance blogs, you have to be extremely careful about the content you post. But little do you know, one of your most avid readers exists right across the firehouse, and it's only a matter of time before Mr. Smart-Ass discovers the truth—the person always giving him hell—is also his little slice of heaven.

FIRE WITHIN ↳ coming soon

❖ vernon x f.reader ❖ written by yannie @wonuwoe

Choosing the medical field will always involve countless obstacles you must overcome, particularly the emergency department rotation which would determine if you're truly on the right path to becoming a doctor. Dreading the time when you finally embark on this last test that's been haunting you since you started medical school, another challenge presents itself in the form of a firefighter who was once your pillar — a muddled part of your past that you were sure you'd forgotten, or so you thought.

banners by @eerieedits ©shadowkoo ©haologram ©aaagustd ©wonuwoe 2025. All rights reserved.

[hueseok]

( 01. ) EASY MONEY, EASY LOVE.

you and namjoon have been married for five years.

despite being strangers who solely exchanged wedding vows to trick his filthy rich family into giving him his inheritance, being part of this scheme is surprisingly easy. he’s out of the country most of the time, you’re being compensated for being a model wife, and there are only a few things you two have to to do in order to keep up with the whole guise of being a happy married couple.

with less than three months to go until you get divorced, namjoon comes back from a business trip and stays with you at your shared house, waiting until d-day with the aim of sending off your odd friendship with a proper farewell. but it’s weird, because just when things are supposed to be easiest—that’s when everything is suddenly becoming complicated, and the two of you realized once again that there really is no such thing as easy money (or easy love).

pairing: namjoon x reader

word count: 3.3k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, angst, marriage of convenience au, strangers to friends to lovers au, dash of fake dating au, and they were housemates au???? | ft. chaebol!namjoon + travel photographer!namjoon; office worker!reader

warning/s: swearing, mentions of a sickness, mommy issues, unsupportive family, depictions of loneliness / sadness, character death (no major characters though!), mentions of falling of a cliff bc of clumsiness lmao (nobody dies dw)

[ chaptex index. ]

EPISODE 01. the one with the emergency !

you shouldn’t have been too confident. if only you’ve been more humble and less greedy during your hike earlier with your workmates for the bi-annual team building event, you wouldn’t have literally fallen off the side of the cliff and ended up spraining your ankle pretty bad.

what were you thinking, honestly? you’ve never been an active person ever in your life. you hated cardio, you hated sweating, you hated waking up early in the morning to do exercise — yet for some reason, you were pumped for the activity that was scheduled for today.

it’s the reason why as you were trudging along the trail with your co-workers, yapping and laughing loudly with a close colleague, you didn’t notice that a particularly huge rock on your way set you off balance and caused you to sway to your right, plummeting over the ridge with a loud yelp.

it’s a good thing that there were paramedics stationed at the base of the mountain where all of you were trekking on, perhaps anticipating for an incident like yours to come along that’ll have them doing their duty.

as soon as your team leader used the walkie-talkie given to your group to call them for their help, there were four people with bright orange uniforms aiding you, checking your condition and placing you on a stretcher before carrying you to the monorail where you’ll be transported back down.

haein, your said close colleague, accompanied you as they brought you to the infirmary.

“were you possessed by an athletic ghost?” she asks once the doctor finished treating your sprained ankle, now advising you to get a bit of rest. “what made you think it was smart to walk too fast? you must have been crazy.”

“i must have,” you say, laughing because you rather laugh than complain about the pain that you’re feeling. it’s subsiding at the moment — thankfully — but you can only imagine what the next few days are going to be for you due to the injury. “god, i’m happy though that i didn’t get to roll all the way. if that happened, i would have suffered a greater fall and then i’d be on the news.”

“yeah. you’d be a legend to the company too. we’d make an altar in your cubicle for a good few months.”

“i’d be the story that hiking guides would share to the hikers to scare them into being careful.”

“we’d pay tribute to you at every christmas party. we’d make a slideshow and present that during the whole event.”

“really?”

“of course. i’d be in charge of making the powerpoint even.”

you stare at her, haein staring back, and then the both of you burst out laughing. you’re grateful that she volunteered to be with you when the paramedics declared that they needed to bring you down — although in the back of your head, you do think she’s just being a good friend as an excuse to not walk her way back to the ground with the rest later on after they reach the top and enjoy the magnificent view.

“by the way,” she takes a seat on the chair beside the bed you’re situated in, “someone named kim namjoon is going to pick you up and drive you home.”

the second his name tumbles out of her lips, you’re snapping your head towards her, shocked. “what?”

“when you passed out a bit after the fall, i got your phone and did the thing to make it call your emergency contact. he’s the one who answered.”

“namjoon answered?”

“yup.”

“but i… i don’t remember making him my emergency contact.”

“well, like i said, he’s the one who answered.” she shrugs. “why? is he an ex or something?”

you press your lips together, suddenly panicking at the thought of namjoon arriving here.

there’s nothing wrong with namjoon, really. he’s a pleasing person to have around: genuine, kind, and full of profound thoughts that you can’t help but hang onto every word he says.

however, as haein made evident, no one knows about your relationship with him and true nature of it — and you’ve done everything you can in the past year and a half since joining the company to keep it that way, deeming it unnecessary to disclose the fact that kim namjoon is your husband when the both of you aren’t bound to stay married forever.

to you, he’s just a ridiculously rich man who needed to get married for at least five years in order to get the full amount of his inheritance from his grandmother.

to him, you’re just a middle class woman who needed money to pay for her sister’s leukemia treatments, introduced together by a mutual friend who knew that both of you can benefit from each other’s situations.

in other words, your marriage with him isn’t technically real. and it’s why you rather not let anyone in your workplace know that he’s your husband, especially since you’ve managed to keep a low profile about it all these months. you don’t want to give your officemates a reason to gossip about you in the present time or when you divorce namjoon — the latter frankly scheduled to happen in less than three months from now.

****

namjoon arrives an hour later.

you take notice of him immediately while haein’s babbling about the book she recently read, recognizing him as the tall man who enters the small clinic.

you watch as he goes to the desk to talk to the staff waiting there, following his figure as the latter points to where your bed is. namjoon promptly turns to your direction then, your gazes meeting before his eyes focus on your sprained ankle, expression contorting in a mix of confusion and disappointment.

beside you, haein taps your arm, noticing namjoon’s arrival as well. “is that…?”

you swallow hard. “yeah, that’s him.”

“holy shit.” she takes a dramatic pause. “he’s hot.”

“don’t —” you grit your teeth. “don’t say that. it’s weird.”

“why? i have eyes — i’m just saying what i see.”

“yeah, but —”

“are you weirded out because he’s a relative? like your brother?” haein cuts you off. “wait, you mentioned before that you have a sibling. is that him?”

“he’s not a sibling.”

“then who —”

namjoon stops on the foot of your bed, causing haein to shut up now that he’s within earshot. he’s still staring at your ankle, like it inflated to twice its original size, and you actually don’t know what to say.

although you’ve developed a close friendship over the years of this sham marriage, you always seem to restart whenever he returns from a business trip of his — and it’s only been a couple of days since his return to south korea, having just come back from spain for his latest project.

it’s worth mentioning too that you do feel strange having an audience like haein around that renders you clueless on how to act.

he lets out a slow whistle, crossing his arms. “and you say i’m clumsy.”

you huff out a chuckle, namjoon grinning that releases the charm of his dimples.

“uh, i’m haein,” your friend stands up from her seat and extends a hand out, obviously enthralled by how handsome he is. “i’m the one who called you using ____’s phone. namjoon, isn’t it?”

namjoon shakes her hand. “oh, yes. it’s nice to meet you.”

“wow. you have a very tight grip.”

“haein,” you scold, slapping her wrist that causes their handshake to cease. if it isn’t apparent enough, haein doesn’t have a filter nor cares enough to stop saying the first thing that comes to her mind. “stop being weird.”

she turns to you. “i’m not being weird. i’m complimenting him.”

“how is commenting how tight his grip is a compliment?” you demand.

“it’s a compliment because i’m making it clear that i find him strong,” she explains, focusing on namjoon again. “sorry. do you feel offended by what i said?”

he appears amused. “not really.”

“see?” haein tells you.

you’re about to quip back a reply when she beats you to it.

“anyways,” she says and namjoon stifles a laugh, “if you don’t mind me asking, how are you and ____ related?”

at the question, you send him a signal with your eyes, asking him not to tell the truth, regardless if that’s wrong of you to do so. one of the things you had to keep in mind upon agreeing with this arrangement is that neither of you should ever deny the marriage whatsoever, a precautionary measure because you two were that paranoid that the news might reach namjoon’s parents.

from the looks of it, despite namjoon understanding where you’re getting at as you give him the most bizarre expressions, he does the opposite (perhaps mainly due to what was explained above), resulting into you hanging your head low, waiting how haein will react at the revelation that will be served on her plate.

“i’m her husband actually,” namjoon says casually. 

haein cackles out loud. “husband?” she repeats. “that’s really funny — you’re a funny guy. but seriously, how do you two know each other?”

he raises an eyebrow. “i’m not joking.”

“sure you are. this girl right here isn’t married.” she does a show of holding you in an affectionate headlock. “she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.”

“did she tell you that?” he’s teasing, glancing at you for some sort of confirmation.

haein averts her attention to you. 

you look at them, switching from namjoon to haein to namjoon and back to haein. 

“i mean… you never asked, and i never said i was single,” you tell haein, shrugging and acting as nonchalant as ever.

it’s half the truth, ‘cause as far as you’re concerned, you’ve been diligent in always wearing your wedding and engagement ring. you even make it a point not to appear interested in any offers of blind dates or group dates to ever imply that you’re single as well.

she gawks at you, like she’s waiting for you to take back what you said. “are you being for real right now?”

“i am.”

“if this is some elaborate prank —”

“it’s not a prank,” you say. 

there’s silence, and then she practically screams.

“YOU’RE MARRIED?” haein bellows, attracting everybody’s attention inside the infirmary. “we’ve known each other for more than a year and only now do i discover that you’re married?”

before she can berate you and force you to tell her your entire relationship history, namjoon’s asking for your bag and helping you sit up, aiming to lead you to the car waiting outside.

haein almost stops him, declaring with conviction that she literally can’t wait until the next office day to get the full scoop, but he kindly reiterates what the ER doctor he spoke with earlier said, insisting that he ought to bring you home as soon as possible so you can get the rest that you need after over exerting your body for today’s hike.

“everything. you need to tell me everything on monday,” she says when namjoon goes out for a minute to deliver your bag first to the vehicle. she’s giddy and jumpy and very hyper about what you can guess is because of her latest discovery. “also, i’m sorry about calling your husband hot earlier. i wouldn’t have done so if i knew.”

you grin, appreciating the fact that she felt the need to apologize for that. “it’s no biggie. you didn’t know.”

“yeah, which you really should apologize about.”

“i’m sorry.” your grin only stretches wider. “i’ll buy you a matcha latte on monday to make up for it.”

her face lights up.

you share your farewells as namjoon returns, namjoon saying goodbye to haein too. she leaves first, remembering that she needs to inform the rest of your co-workers that you’re fine and headed home, and once you and your husband are alone, he takes a good look at you again.

“should i carry you?” he asks.

you blink at him. he may be reliable, but he is also extremely clumsy. “you’re not asking the right questions, joon.”

“unbelievable.” he laughs. “you can really be cruel sometimes, you know?”

“i just want to be safe.” you further tease.

“then should i get a wheelchair?”

“no wheelchair please. i think i can walk to the car just fine.” you begin standing up.

“you sure?” he doesn’t even let you answer that, his hand just naturally goes to support your elbow. “you might fall.”

you pause, calculating how many steps it’s going to take until you reach your destination.

you’re fine, really. your good foot is perfectly walkable and you’re convinced it can take the burden of not having its pair in ample condition. however, you might need to hold onto namjoon for you not to fall halfway like he already stated, and you’re not really keen on being that close to him no matter how amazing his cologne smells even a few inches away.

“a wheelchair would be ideal,” you say.

namjoon chuckles, nodding and getting it with the assistance of a staff member. 

in minutes, you’re on the passenger seat and he’s climbing on the other side.

you don’t expect it but you’re relieved at the thought of coming home earlier than planned. though you’ve conditioned yourself to enjoy this team building and take this time to get into camping, you were horrified when you learned that there wouldn’t be any shower rooms or portable toilets at least at the area that you’re heading at after the hike, this retreat meant to give each one of you the raw camping experience.

come to think of it, perhaps it was your subconscious that prompted you to inflict this accident on yourself in order to avoid shitting on the ground in case your stomach hurts.

“comfortable?” namjoon glances at you. “you can recline the chair if you want to sleep.”

“oh, okay. thanks.” you smile. 

he smiles back, starting the engine.

you subtly watch him while he does that, admiring how he seems so adept in driving now compared to when you first met him. you remember his reluctance in the past to drive due to his fear of messing up, yet he managed to drive for approximately two hours in most likely gravelly roads to get where you are.

“thanks too for coming here, joon. i hope i didn’t bother you. honestly, i don’t even remember putting you as my emergency contact,” you sheepishly add.

“no problem, and i think hoseok did,” he says. “i remember him mentioning that i should put you as mine before.”

hoseok is the mutual friend that introduced you both together when namjoon was still trying to find a fake wife to obtain the full amount of his inheritance in five years time. he was aware of namjoon’s ploy and knew that you were in need of money during that year as well — and so putting two and two together, he set up a ‘date slash chemistry test’ between you and namjoon and reckoned that you could be great help to one another regarding your respective needs.

“that makes sense. i just don’t know how he did that without my knowledge.”

“well, nothing’s been impossible for hobi, so…”

you agree with a snort.

“by the way, i should mention this before you doze off,” namjoon abruptly halts just when he was beginning to drive off, “mom’s inviting us to dinner this weekend. she heard that i was back in the country and wanted to see how i am.”

you gradually digest that information, a constipated look already appearing on your face. “okay. is everyone going to be there?”

“yes, based on our last conversation.”

“should i be prepared for anything at all?”

he seems to find the inquiry funny. “no. just the usual.”

“meaning i should block off every passive aggressive comment your mom makes about either my choice of clothes and social status, right?”

“pretty much, yeah.”

you let out a groan.

“i’m sorry.” the dimples make a recurrence. “i would have declined her request but she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.”

“god, i just really don’t like your mom, joon.” you say. “or your dad. or your older brother. i don’t like everyone, basically — except your pet dog, hiro. no offense.”

“that’s fine. i don’t like them either.” he shrugs, carrying on driving then now that the news have been shared. “plus, you know i’m on your team. i’d defend your honor to death.”

“of course. it’s what makes attending these things tolerable.”

“well, if it makes you feel better, this might be the last family function you’d have to attend.”

you raise your eyebrows, recalling the reason why. “woah, shit, you’re right.”

in less than three months, you’re getting divorced and namjoon’s getting even more money than he already has.

in less than three months, he’s going to share some of the portion of what’s left of his inheritance and it’ll be the last time you’ll receive financial help from him.

it also might be the last time you’ll be with him in general, and though there’s a side of you that’s glad not to be tied down anymore, you can’t say that you’re glad of possibly losing contact with namjoon, having grown fond of his presence in a way.

facing him, you blurt out the first thing that occurs in your mind. “when we get divorced, can i keep my engagement ring?”

namjoon chuckles. “that’s up to you. there’s no reason for me to take it back.”

“but what if you fall in love with a woman someday and think about proposing to her?”

“then i’d buy a new ring.”

“but wouldn’t that be impractical? given that you already have an engagement ring? i mean, this costs so much i could probably buy a lot and a house with it.”

“yeah, but that’s yours. it’d be horrible of me to give her a ring already worn by my first wife.”

“first wife,” you repeat with a dramatic scoff, lips curving upwards regardless. it’s cheesy and tickles your insides. “that trip to spain changed you, joon. you’ve been too flirty since you returned.”

that coaxes out a full laugh from him. “my apologies. it’s a habit at this point.”

“what is?”

“pertaining to you as my wife.” he shrugs. “isn’t it the same for you?”

“pertaining to you as my wife?” you joke.

you don’t see him roll his eyes. “you know what i mean.”

you think about it.

had it been the same for you? there’s not a lot of occasions wherein you have to call namjoon as your husband. your dad isn’t present in your life, your relationship isn’t good with your mother to constantly chat with her (she doesn’t even know you’re married), and as for your little sister who was the root cause of why you got married to namjoon…

well, she’s in a better place right now. far better than this crazy and scary world you’re living in.

“i guess,” you say, but your tone isn’t convincing.

he nods his head in a slow manner. “hm, it does seem that way according to what just happened with haein.”

you wince. “sorry about that.”

“don’t be, i understand. i’ve been gone most of the time since you got hired in your new company — and we are separating in a few weeks.”

“time flies really fast, doesn’t it?”

“yep. we used to think that it’ll take forever before the five years are up.”

“true. we kept on suggesting a backup plan if ever we fight and get sick of each other.”

“yet here we are, still happily married.”

“ugh, there you are again!” you accuse and he laughs out loud once more. “are you enjoying cringing me to death?”

namjoon doesn’t answer, a big grin plastered on his face as he continues laughing, groaning eventually when you start slapping his arm because of how it’s obvious that he truly is enjoying this.

“____,” he complains, laughing still, “stop, i’m driving!”

you follow as he says. “you’re the worst.”

“i forgot how easy you are to tease.”

“shut up.”

he snickers, doing a zipping motion against his mouth.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[varpusvaras]

If someone ever asked Roy what Jason reminded him of, he would've said a cat.

A big, black, fluffy cat that would pretend to not even notice you for half a day, but would then proceed to flop right on top of you when you least expected it and leave you coated in fur.

A very cute, big, black, fluffy cat, of course, if Roy was being precise.

Yeah, that was his boyfriend.

His boyfriend, who was currently curled up on the bed like he truly was the cat he so reminded Roy about, his face pressed against Roy's thigh. Combined with the dimness of the room, it was almost enough to hide the fact that there was a large, nasty bruise covering half of Jason's face at the moment.

Almost.

"How did you even manage to get this?" Roy asked. It was mostly a rhetorical question at that point, just whispered out loud, because it was in the middle of the night and Jason was definitely ninety percent asleep already and was not going to give Roy a coherent answer. That was what one got after finishing up a two-days long mission and then deciding to instantly drive to the other side of the country, instead of staying put and resting after said two-days mission.

To be fair, if Roy was being completely honest, he did like Jason being home sooner than later. It wasn't a particularly big secret that Roy didn't hold much love for Gotham, after all, even if Jason still called the city home as much as he called their house home. He just...felt better when Jason was with him, especially after more grueling missions, and he was pretty sure that Jason knew it, even if they had never outright discussed it out loud.

Jason made a noise under his breath that quite honestly sounded like a kitten whining, and Roy had to bite his lip a little to not laugh at it. It would've been an affectionate laugh, of course, but better not risk it.

"Yeah, yeah." Roy ran his fingers through Jason's hair. "Mister always wearing a helmet. I'm gonna fix it up for you."

Jason made another noise, a softer one this time, and he settled further into the mattress as Roy continued to stroke his hair. Roy waited for a moment, then two, and when he was positive that Jason had fallen asleep, he slowly got up and made his way to the garage.

Despite being probably already bone-tired by arrival, Jason had still meticulously gone through their agreed homecoming routine. Lian knew about their identities, of course, and she was a smart girl, but all of the gear still belonged outside the main house. It had been Jason making most of the rules when it came to his own gear. He hated the thought of others touching it without his permission, and he especially hated even the idea of Lian touching it and somehow getting hurt. Sometimes it was like Jason was convinced that even looking towards any part of his gear would hurt Lian, which was something Roy felt like needed a licenced therapist to fully unpack. He did appreciate the care Jason displayed towards Lian, though, so he wasn't going to complain about it to Jason's face.

Thinking about Lian and Jason's face made Roy grimace. Jason didn't like letting Lian see him hurt, no matter how big or small. A bruise that was covering half of Jason's face was going to be hard to hide, though Roy knew that Jason would somehow be able to manage it. Painfully and by gritting his teeth, but he would.

Roy knew what it was all about. He wasn't stupid.

Roy flicked the lights on in the garage, before making his way to the cabinet Jason had claimed for himself. By this point, Roy had an open invitation to Jason's armor and weapons, as he was the only other person who knew how everything worked precisely. Roy was also pretty sure that Jason knew that Roy liked fixing things up for him, and he let him do it because it was an easier way to accept a display of affection than having to listen someone promise him everything, once again, while holding all the power to take their words back without a warning.

Roy went through the plan of action in his head while he unlocked the cabinet. He would need to fire up the workbench and get the electrical tools out in order to get the helmet fixed. Maybe he could draw up some plans how to make the front more durable while keeping it absorbant enough that it would still be the helmet taking the brunt of the hits and not Jason's head underneath it. It would take some time to figure out, but Jason would probably let him make him a new one if Roy just managed it. It would mean that the times of Jason having hard to hide-injuries would be lessened, after all.

Maybe he could manage to adjust the color, too, just to make it a little less vibrant. Roy was starting to seriously think that the helmet was beginning to act like the red capes in bullfighting, inviting more and more hits directly towards it simply because it was there. He wouldn't have been surprised if it really was so. Gotham was messed up, and the rogues playing a game of "who manages to break in the Red Hood's helmet and face first" sounded entirely plausible. This wasn't the first time Jason had come back sporting similar injuries, though usually they were either a little smaller, or Jason had had to stay in Gotham for longer and they were already fading by the time he got back.

Jason would most likely say no, though. The red was part of his brand at this point, it was meant to make an impression to anyone seeing it. Just Roy's luck that he had fallen for the theather kid who had not yet left the phase behind.

Not that Roy was ever going to say that to Jason. He was fully aware of the fact that he was the one running around with a bow, after all.

What a pair they made.

Roy smiled. What a pair, indeed, he thought, as he pulled the cabinet door open and proceeded to have Jason's helmet stare right at him from the upper shelf.

The helmet, which was very much not broken.

Roy stared at it for a good while. It was definitely the same helmet Jason had left with to Gotham. There was a small scratch on the paint, just unde the left lense, that Jason had meant to paint over but had not had the time yet. Roy had watched him pack it up with his own two eyes.

If Roy was anyone else, he would've been able to convince himself that there was probably a perfectly simple and harmless explanation. But Roy wasn't anyone else. Roy was who he was, and that was someone who had been fighting increasingly dangerous fights since he was a teenager, and who had seen harm being inflected over and over again and the marks it would leave behind.

Roy stared at the helmet. The helmet seemed to stare back at him, silently daring him to say it out loud.

Roy didn't say it. He closed the door and locked it back up, while something cold settled firmly at the bottom of his stomach.

He stood there for just a little longer, gathering himself, before he silently made his way out of the garage the exact same path he had walked in mere moments ago.

Lian was still asleep when Roy checked on her, and so was Jason when he slipped back into the bedroom. He stirred a bit when Roy laid down as well, not enough to wake up, but enough to turn towards Roy. Roy could see the bruise now in all of its glory, stretching across Jason's skin like a shadow.

Jason's hand was laying between them on the bed, and Roy laced their fingers together, gently and carefully.

Jason's hand was warm. It was enough to chase away some of the cold inside Roy, and he held onto it tightly.

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

Could you make a fic where Miguel gets the female reader pregnant and they're happy but he's worried about her safety? Maybe have a villain find out? Cause some angst?

Risk Something (You're Losing Me)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Angst! Alert!, Unplanned pregnancy!Alert.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Since I had already established some background and emotional intimacy, I thought I could write this as a sort-of-sequel to my previous one-shot Host of a Ghost. I was so excited to write this, especially because I don't usually write angst but I like to push my boundaries and leave my confort zone. Hope that it pays off and, of course dear anon, that you like it <3

Part III

You’d never really believed in long-distance relationships. After being witness to so many unsuccessful ones, you’d cataloged the entire concept into a box labeled “certain failure” and tucked it away in the back of your head. And yet, with an inconsistency worthy of your friend Hobie, you’d gone and gotten yourself involved in no less than an interdimensional relationship.

How? Well, that was a good question.

All it took was five simple steps:

Step one: Live a regular life. Go to school, graduate, and try to go for a Ph.D. that gets you working near genetically modified insects for just the right amount of time for you to become careless enough to let one crawl onto your backpack, take it to your apartment, and let it sting you. Throw in some negligence, forfeit going to the hospital, and go on about your afternoon. Warning, some side effects like loss of consciousness or intense headaches can be expected.

Step two: Congratulations! You’ve now become a super-powered person with abilities that range from climbing walls and performing gravity-challenging parkour to creating a sticky web-like element that helped you swing from one building to another. Toy around with your new talents, and grow comfortable with them before realizing that you can actually use them to be the much-needed help your city needs.

Step three: Turns out you’re not the only one with this kind of ability out there. There’s a whole Spider-Society full of similarly enhanced people who try and do their best to keep their own dimensions safe, and you’ve not only caught their eye but have actually been invited to join them. Let your new guide Jess Drews show you around, and explain all the benefits that come from joining a team such as theirs. If you decline, you can go back home and that’ll be all.

If you’re interested, it’ll be necessary to convince the leader but they could use some extra help so it shouldn’t be particularly hard. It sounds like an amazing chance. Information you wouldn’t have access to otherwise, mind-blowing facilities where you can polish your newly acquired abilities, possible new friends that actually know what you’re going through…Say you’ll think about it. Right as you’re about to leave, the most fucking gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your entire life walks past without paying either of you any mind, busy while speaking to another Spider-Person. You ask who that is, turns out he’s the aforementioned leader, “will I ever have to work with him?”, you ask. “Probably, eventually” Replies Jess. Ask when you can start.

Step four: Do your best to earn your place in this elite group. Successfully improve your fighting skills, read everything available on interdimensional traveling and the multiverse. Understand it almost instantly because that’s how smart you are, kudos to you. Realize that for some reason, despite never actually interacting with you, Spider-Society leader Miguel O’Hara tends to stare. A lot. Is it because you’re progressing as fast as Jessica says or because she’s a complete liar and you’re actually doing it all wrong? No idea. All you know is that even during mundane scenarios like laughing in the hall with all the newest additions to the team or in line at the cafeteria, you feel a certain tingle in the back of your head that makes you turn around. Of course, the moment your eyes meet, he turns around and leaves. An odd one, yes. But you’ve also heard things. Rumors, here and there about his life before creating the Society. Whispers about a lost family and some video archives being the only evidence that they even existed in the first place. And, of course, the fault he had in the destruction of their dimension. You sympathize with him, despite his apathetic attitude towards you. You’ve seen him interact with those he’s closer to, and you know there’s more to him than he lets on. You’d be elated if he ever let you take just one look at the smidge of his old self that sometimes peeked out from behind the iron curtain. Well, not really. One look wouldn’t be enough. If anything, it would only cement your feelings for the man.

Step five: Curiosity killed the cat. We all know that. You know that. And yet, you decided to go snooping around Miguel O’Hara’s computer and personal files until you accidentally switch his computer on for long enough to let the videos he’s always watching start playing. He…his daughter…an entire lost life gone before his eyes. Then, before you could do the right thing and turn the computer off, an eerily familiar voice called at him from behind the camera. So, of course, you had to keep watching. Long story short? All those oddly constant stares, that coldness towards you, unwillingness to look you in the eye, was because of two reasons: first, you were a nearly identical interdimensional variant of the wife he’d lost in the dimension he unwittingly erased from existence. Two, as he’d confessed after realizing you’d found out about the truth, Miguel had come to terms with the fact that he was in love with you, not as a replacement for somebody from his past but as a new presence in his life that he’d been struggling to watch from afar, unwilling to let all his repressed feelings spill out like water from a broken dam. Until that night, of course.

Now, eight months later, you’d come to realize there was actually a sixth step you’d never actually considered until now that you were in this…situationship.

Step six: Uncomfortably avoid every and all circumstances in which interdimensional disparities and canon consistency regarding your relationship could come up. Don’t say anything like “Well, it’s been nice but I’ve got to go back to my own dimension” because that would remind him that his dimension was not yours too. That you were after all still a stranger in a strange land. Which of course also meant never inviting him to stay in your dimension.

Deep inside, you knew that all those details would eventually cause problems, especially regarding the inner conflict Miguel was always dealing with knowing what he was doing…what you were both doing, went against his strongest principle. But by God he was happy. Happier than he’d thought he could ever feel again. More than he deserved. So he just ignored those intrusive thoughts and focused on whatever task was at hand. And you were too. Even after just eight months, life without him already seemed unimaginable. He was your first thought in the morning and your last before you went to sleep, and more than once his presence beside you had been not just a figment of your imagination, but a part of your reality as you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer whenever you strayed too far from him in bed as he groggily whispered, “¿Y a dónde crees que vas, preciosa?”, Or when he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lining it up with soft kisses that sometimes ended up in both of you being late for your assigned tasks. With so much on the line, you were more than happy to avoid those spiky subjects. It seemed like such a small price to pay with all you were getting in return.  

You weren’t sure of where all this was going, but none of that mattered. Right now, you were together. Inside the Spider-Society you were a great team and each one was a valuable asset. Outside, every second spent in your arms was enough to make him forget Spider-Man. To you, he was Miguel and nothing more. And that was all you needed.

Life was good. You were happy with the way things were. Until, as it usually happens, a necessary disruption came quite literally crashing into your life in the shape of a fifteen-year-old that carelessly swung around a corner and crashed into you after you’d been chasing him like the rest of the Spider-People after receiving Miguel’s message.

“Miles?” You asked, recalling his name, which you’d actually been hearing for quite some time since the circumstances of his existence started being a problem for your boyfriend. The boy didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his eyes filled with confusion and fear until you hesitantly took a step aside to leave the escape route open for him. If anything he looked even more baffled, but when the noise of his pursuers reached your ears he rushed down the hall and you lost him after he took a sharp turn.

Before you could be spotted, you ran in the opposite direction and hid around a corner as you tried to call Miguel on your watch. Of course, it was in vain. Well, Plan B. Fortunately, this time you did get a reply.

“(Y/N)?”

“Peter! Yes, it’s me! Where are you?”

“Where do you think? I’m going after him like everybody else. I need to get to him before…sweetie, please just get back in there, Daddy’s on the phone right now…I need to get to him before- “

“He’s already left the headquarters,” You informed him.

“Wait, you saw him?”

“About a minute ago. He was on his way to the North exit.”

“(Y/N), are you sure you should be a part of this chase right now?”

“Why not? Jessica is there, isn’t she?” You replied, smiling to yourself. Good old Peter B., looking out for you like some sort of self-appointed brother figure.

“Well yeah, but she’s not running, kid. Although I don’t think she should be on one of those death machines either, I don’t what she’s…”

While he kept on rambling for a bit, you looked around and wondered if you’d ever seen the building this empty.

Empty.

Your eyes slowly ran along the pearly white walls until they landed on the hallway that led to the room where the Go Home Machine was kept. Practically unchecked, if Spider-Byte had joined the pursuit.

“P.B., I’ll talk to you later,” You absent-mindedly replied, hanging up on him without waiting for an answer as you dashed down the hallway.

You kept thinking about that poor kid’s eyes. After having all that information unloaded onto him, instead being given enough time to somewhat process everything he now had to escape from the very people he was supposed to feel safe amongst. When he sat on the floor right in front of you right after the crash, he was sure you would immediately hand him over. Maybe a few months ago you would’ve done it without hesitation but now…things had changed.

There it was. The Go-Home Machine. You thought you saw a purple blast inside that let you know Byte was still there. However, if your theory was correct, Miles would have to go through that hall and therefore, you. A few minutes later, a sudden voice booming from your watch startled you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Miguel? Where are you? I’ve been trying to…”

“(Y/N), listen to me! Miles lured everybody out on purpose, he’s trying to get to the machine. I can see your location back at the headquarters and he should be coming your way in less than a minute!”

“Alright. I’ll handle it.” You replied, ending the call before he could ask you to elaborate on that.

Sure enough, light footsteps came in your direction shortly after. Right as Miles entered your field of view, an alert issued by your watch made your stomach drop and a dreadful feeling fill your chest. However, you’d made up your mind. There was no going back now.

Mile spotted you at the end of the hall and stopped in his tracks. His eyes were determined, not as afraid as a few moments earlier. If he was there that meant he’d somehow gotten past Miguel. You fought back a smile when you wondered how pissed he’d be about it. Having his ass kicked by a teenager was something that, maybe under different circumstances, you could tease him about.

“He’s a delight, isn’t he?” You finally spoke, trying to somewhat lighten the mood while taking a step toward the kid. However, he got in a defensive stance, furrowing his eyebrows in distrust.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.” You assured, showing him both your hands, “Miles, listen very carefully. This is exactly what Miguel was talking about a while ago. At this very moment. Right now, I’m supposed to stop you from getting to that machine and handing you over,”

Of course, he took another step back.

“Miles I’m not going to do that,” You assured him.

“Why not?” He immediately asked, constantly looking behind him, wondering if this was just you trying to stall him like, unbeknownst to you, he thought Peter had tried to do a while ago.

“Because I’m sure there’s a better way to go about all this. I love him so much, I do, but he’s so afraid that I don’t think he’s willing to see other possibilities and by the time he does, it might be too late for you. Now go before anybody else gets here.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Miles darted past you as soon as you finished talking, taking a second to look back before reaching the dimly lit room where his ticket home was. His eyes scanned your face and darted down for one second before he looked up at you, a new worry in his eyes that had you wondering whether his spider-sense was strong enough to perceive something you’d just found out yourself.  

“Are you going to be okay?” Miles asked, his eyes looking down for a moment once again. Did he know? Did he mean “you” as in just you or as in…?

“Yes, don’t worry. Now get out of here.” You insisted. With one last hasty “thanks”, he ran into the room as your left in the opposite direction. You weren’t worried about Spider-Byte. She was a good kid, and she’d do the right thing.

The right thing. What did that even mean anymore?

You’d deal with the moral implications later. For now, as you found yourself on the other side of the headquarters, your mind was set on finding Miguel. Maybe you could try and talk some sense into him, make him reconsider whether this was…

“What the hell was that?”

By now you’d gotten used to Miguel’s habit of sneaking up on you. Usually, hearing his voice coming out of nowhere brought a smile to your face. This time, you closed your eyes and winced as you felt his presence behind you.

“Don’t even try lying. I know that voice you used in the call. The one for when you’re about to ignore whatever order I’m about to give you, so I checked the cameras.”

“Miguel, I…” You began to explain yourself just to be harshly cut off.

“(Y/N), what were you thinking? Do you realize what you just did? Do you have the slightest idea of the consequences…?”

“I do realize that you just asked a fifteen-year-old child to stand by and let his father get killed right before calling his existence a mistake, Miguel. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of our safety, and that includes Miles’. You’re right, he’s a kid and that means he’s selfish and immature enough to endanger everything we’ve all been risking our lives to protect for years.”

“Miguel, listen to me,” You insisted, “You’re scared. I know. I am, too, but have you ever considered that maybe there’s another solution? Do we even know for sure that allowing the kid to go and try to save his father is going to cause any real damage?”

“What if it does? Are you just going to tell me “Sorry, Miguel, you were right” and that’s all? (Y/N), Dios mío, piensa. Gwen said the same thing but we couldn’t trust her with being objective because he’s her friend,”

“Wait, what do you mean couldn’t?” You asked. Miguel clenched his jaw and turned away, unable or unwilling to look at you.

“Miguel, please tell me you didn’t send her back. Not with how she left things back there,”

His absolute silence told you everything. Shaken, you took a step back.

“What is wrong with you?” You hissed the disappointed look in your eyes hurting like a sharp dagger to his chest.

“(Y/N), mi amor, I’m just trying to…”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” You angrily spat out, “You go around preaching about how important sticking to your stupid canon is and the delicate balance of the multiverse when you know damn well that what we’re doing goes against every single one of those things,”

“No, no, that’s very different,” Miguel disputed,

“How is it different?” You argued back, boldly moving closer to him wishing you were taller so you could face him, “I’m from another dimension, there is no way that we were supposed to meet from the beginning. You had your world, this world, and when you tried to live another life in a different one, an entire dimension was destroyed. I had my world, and for all I know maybe there was somebody there that I was supposed to meet but thankfully I ended up here first so I could meet you. But you know what? My universe is fine, yours is too and I swear I had never been happier in my entire life.”

“You’re right.” He muttered in deep thought.

“Yes, I am. And maybe…” You started to say, a relieved smile tugging at the edges of your mouth until he looked up and the expression in his eyes made your throat dry up.

“We’ve been messing with fire all this time. There is probably somebody you can be with without endangering your entire dimension. And this…this is the hand I was dealt and I should just accept it and live with it. You’re right. Maybe this was all a mistake from the beginning.”

“No. No, come on, you don’t mean that.” You shook your head in denial, lifting both your hands to cup his face in your hands, to bring him close like he had done the night you finally could let all the love you felt for him escape its confinement in your chest.

Miguel grabbed your hands before you could touch him and moved away from you before releasing them as he finally built up the courage to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious?” You asked, your voice quivering with anger as you felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes, “So that’s it? You’d rather sacrifice us than find a different way to solve this?”

“Well, what did you think was going to happen, (Y/N)? That this would go on forever and we’d keep pretending everything is fine and that you don’t have to wear a fucking machine on your wrist every time you come to see me because even the cells in your body know you were never supposed to be here?”  

“Oh, right, so you expect me to believe that you always knew this was going to be temporary? Then what was this? Something to take the edge off after a rough day until you decided it was time to stop fooling around and just be done with it?”

Deep inside, you knew what his response was going to be, but every inch of your heart silently pleaded for you to be wrong. To pull you into his arms and apologize for trying to send you away and promise that you’d get through this because you loved each other and that was all that mattered.

“I don’t know why you thought it was anything else,”

For a minute, you wondered if this was all actually happening. Maybe this was all a nightmare fueled by all the training simulations you’d gone over lately, and you’d wake up crying just to find Miguel asleep next to you, his wide back slowly rising and sinking with every calm breath he took. Your crying would wake him up and he’d furrow his eyebrows and ask what had happened.

“I had a nightmare, that’s all,” You’d say, wiping your tears off and trying to downplay it. But he knew better. He always knew better. He would pull you close and bury your head in his chest, placing a kiss on top of your head while warning you that he was the only one allowed to have nightmares because otherwise he’d have to start comforting you too and neither would get a full night of rest. And you would laugh softly as you drifted off, lulled by the warmth of his chest and his smell of sage lotion and cheap fabric softener.

But no. You were very much awake, and instead of comforting you with promises and reassurances, he was walking away from you after delivering the final blow to your heart.

Since he had his back turned to you, you felt free to let the repressed tears freely fall down your face as you helplessly watch him go until he disappeared around a corner. All of a sudden, you felt as if the walls of the headquarters had begun to close around you to asphyxiate you, and the sound of the returning Spider-People made you realize you didn’t want to be there for one more second.

Thanks to your watch, you were back “home” in a few seconds.

“Home”. Your empty apartment where you’d lived alone for years. Where he’d never set foot, and at least in that way it was free of his memory. Or so you thought until you looked over your shoulder at the ajar bathroom door. Inside, atop the porcelain sink, still rested the positive pregnancy test you’d left there before having to rush over to the headquarters to help with the latest anomaly.

That memory felt so distant now. As if it had happened years ago, in a different life. You suppose in a way, it did belong to another life. A life that was over now.

Numbly, you made your way toward the ragged sofa, collapsing on top of it as soon as you were close enough. It was only then that the full weight of the last day and a half sank in and, as you gently wrapped your arms around your stomach, you let the tears fall until your throat burned, the dusty cushions muffling your broken sobs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard correctly, you did what?”

The seriousness of the situation was enough for Peter to fasten a small strap in Mayday’s baby carrier to make sure she won’t go anywhere for a few minutes as he waited for his friend’s platform to reach ground level. He couldn’t be chasing his toddler around and ripping Miguel a new one at the same time.

“I did what I had to do. It’s for her own good,”

“Right, because you’re such an arrogant…” He paused to carefully place his hands over Mayday’s tiny ears, “…such an arrogant dick that you think you know what’s best for everyone, including a fully grown, intelligent, woman like (Y/N)”

“Shit, Parker, do you think it was easy for me?” Miguel uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose before resting his face against the palm of his hand, “What I said about this being the hand I was dealt…I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with that. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to keep myself from showing up at her dimension to try and get her back here the first chance I get.”

“And why would you have to keep yourself from doing that?” Peter asked patiently. It sounded like a better alternative to “Miguel, I love you man but I swear you’ve got the emotional availability of a tree stump. Beats me how (Y/N) was able to get you to admit your feelings without prying your chest open with a jigsaw to see your pounding heart for herself.”

“She was right. We were never supposed to meet in the first place. Not like this. It’s not…”

“Miguel, I swear if I hear the word ‘canon’ even once in this conversation I’m going to drive my head through a wall,”

“Just because you don’t take anything seriously doesn’t mean everybody’s the same,” Miguel hissed back.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Last time I didn’t take something seriously, I ended up just like you will unless you get your priorities sorted out. Alone, and regretting not focusing on what was important,”

“This is important,” Miguel stubbornly argued.

“More important than what you had? Look at yourself. Just forty-eight hours ago you were as happy with (Y/N) as you’d been for the past eight months. And as happy as I’ve been with Mayday and my wife who, by the way, wouldn’t even be with me if it wasn’t for that kid you just called a mistake. And do you see my dimension going up in flames? Or yours? Or hers?”

Unable to find an argument against that, Miguel remained silent, his eyes fixed on an empty spot on the wall in front of him.

“Listen, I know you’re afraid. You don’t want her to get hurt, but if you love her as much as you claim to, then you’re taking the choice of a coward right now. And you can’t afford to be one, especially now.”

“Especially now?” Miguel inquired, turning to look at his friend who, much to his surprise, pressed his lips together as if he’d made a mistake and instead focused on getting Mayday’s hair out of her face.

“My point is; I know you well enough to know you worship that woman. And she thinks you’re pretty decent too. And I can tell you from experience that you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life if you let this come between you.”

Not knowing what else to add, Peter gently patted Miguel’s shoulder before leaving the room, hoping he’d given him enough to think about. Hopefully, enough to make him change his mind.

Meanwhile, Miguel hadn’t moved since Peter left the room, mulling his words over.

Two, particularly, had stuck with him for some reason.

Especially now.

[biblical-chronicles]

The Masterplan pt. 1

__________________________________________

where Noel makes sure you end up as his.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

__________________________________________

The first time Noel saw you, he was on his way out of the studio lounge, mug of tea in hand, already thinking about the half-finished track waiting for him. He wasn’t planning to linger, but then you walked in, and everything else in his brain went quiet. You weren’t doing anything particularly remarkable—just chatting with the studio manager and hauling a guitar case like it was an extension of yourself.

Noel leaned back against the doorway, casually sipping his brew as his eyes followed you across the room. You had that air about you, something effortless yet sharp, like you knew exactly what you were about and didn’t need to shout about it.

The studio manager eventually noticed Noel loitering and introduced you. You turned to him, your gaze steady and confident, and gave him a polite smile. Nice to meet you.” you said.

He smirked, not bothering to hide his once-over. “Noel.” he said simply, as if that was all the introduction you needed.

“Noel Gallagher?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. You weren’t starstruck or flustered, just mildly amused. He liked that.

“In the flesh.” he replied.

“Nice,” you said, then turned back to the manager to finish your conversation, leaving Noel standing there, staring at the back of your head like some lovesick teenager. He wasn’t used to being dismissed so casually, and it made him grin despite himself. He didn’t say much else as you wrapped up and left the lounge, but the moment you were out of sight, he already knew that he was dead set on you.

Noel tracked down the studio manager within minutes. “That new girl,” he started, leaning on the desk like he was making idle conversation. “What’s her deal?”

“Just signed her on for a few sessions,” the manager said. “Promising talent. Why?”

“No reason,” Noel said casually, though he was anything but. “What room's she in?”

“Down the hall, third on the left.”

Noel frowned. “Nah, move her to the one next to mine. Dead better acoustics in there.”

The manager gave him a skeptical look. “You want me to rearrange the schedule for her? She’s brand new.”

“Exactly,” Noel said smoothly. “Give her a proper start, yeah? She’ll owe us for it later.” He smirked, knowing full well he meant she’ll owe me.

By the next day, your studio space had been swapped, and Noel made a point of popping his head in during one of your sessions. You looked up, startled but not annoyed to see him. “Something I can help you with?”

“Just checking in,” he said, stepping inside uninvited. “Wanted to see how you’re settling in.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop him as he wandered over to your desk, glancing at the scattered notebooks and papers. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Always.” you said with a small laugh.

“Mind if I have a look?” he asked, already picking up a notebook.

You hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

He flipped through a few pages, his expression unreadable. “Not bad,” he said finally, setting the notebook down. “Could use a bit of polish, though. Lucky for you, I happen to know a thing or two about writing a decent tune.”

You laughed. “Are you offering to help me? Out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Kindness, boredom, take your pick,” he said with a grin. “Look, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what works. Let me give you a hand.”

You stared at him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if he was serious. Then you shrugged. “Alright. Can’t hurt, I guess.”

“Smart move,” he said, already pulling up a chair. “You won’t regret it.”

Over the next few days, Noel made himself a near-constant presence in your studio. At first, he stuck to suggestions about melodies and lyrics, making just enough of a difference that you couldn’t help but appreciate his input. But as the days went on, he started probing a little deeper, getting to know you better and making sure that your bond grew stronger.

“So, what’s the deal with all the unique outfits?” he asked one afternoon, leaning against the wall as you fiddled with a chord progression.

“They’re just a bit of fun,” you said, glancing up at him with a small smile. “Gets people talking, you know?”

“It’s working,” he said. “Seen your name poppin' up in a few places lately.”

You shrugged, looking back at your guitar. “Not enough for me manager, apparently. He keeps telling me I need to do more to get the press talking.”

Noel’s ears perked up, though he kept his expression casual. “More, eh? Like what?”

“Who knows?” you said with a sigh. “I think he just wants me to be more... I don’t know, controversial? Summat to make headlines, I guess.”

Noel nodded slowly, filing that away for later. “Sounds like a load of bollocks to me, but what do I know?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Exactly.”

Noel didn’t waste any time. The very next day, he casually made his way toward your manager’s office, hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling some tune only he could identify. He knocked once, then pushed the door open without waiting for a reply, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

“Alright?” he said. “Got a sec?”

Your manager looked up, mildly startled but quickly composed himself. “Noel. Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“Just summat quick,” Noel started, stepping in and plopping himself into the chair across the desk. “Had a couple questions about the studio schedule, makin’ sure things aren’t clashin’ too much, y’know.”

Your manager nodded, already half-distracted as Noel rambled off some vague inquiries about times and bookings. It was all just pretext, of course, and once Noel felt he’d lulled the manager into a false sense of routine, he shifted gears.

“Speakin’ of,” he began, his tone suddenly casual, like the thought had just crossed his mind. “Been spendin’ some time with the new bird in the studio—talented, that one. Got a real spark.”

Your manager perked up at the mention of you, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, she’s fantastic. I’ve got high hopes for her.”

“Yeah, yeah, proper star material,” Noel agreed, leaning back in his chair. “But I reckon she’s feelin’ the pressure a bit, eh? Seems like there’s a lot on her plate.”

The manager frowned, tapping a pen against the desk. “She has mentioned being a bit overwhelmed. But, y’know, it’s part of the job. Gotta push if you want to make waves in this industry.”

Noel nodded, as if he completely understood. “Course, mate. Gotta keep the momentum, yeah? Headlines, buzz, all that shite. Still, you wouldn’t want to push her too far, would ya?”

Your manager hesitated, and Noel knew he had him exactly where he wanted.

“Then again,” Noel said, his voice dropping slightly, as though he were sharing a trade secret, “sometimes a bit of pressure’s the way to go. Not sayin’ break the poor girl, but if she’s feelin’ the heat, it means she’s close to somethin’, right? Gold comes outta fire and all that.”

The manager nodded slowly, clearly mulling it over. “That’s true... I suppose I could lean in a bit more. Just to keep her on her toes.”

“Smart move,” Noel said, flashing a grin as he stood. “She’s got it in her, no doubt. Just needs the right nudge. Anyway, cheers, mate. Appreciate the chat.”

He left the office feeling smug. it was only a matter of time before you came running to him for support.

And sure enough, it happened just as he’d predicted. A few evenings later, you were sitting in his studio room, face flushed and eyes glassy as you vented your frustrations.

“It’s like he doesn’t get it,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I’m trying me best, but it’s never enough. Headlines, buzz, relevance—like I’m just a bloody commodity.”

Noel watched you, calm and collected, though inside he felt some compassion. “Yeah, it’s shite, innit? They don’t care about the art, just the numbers. What gets clicks.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you rubbed them together. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. It’s so stupid. You’ve done nothing but help me, and here I am, crying in your studio like a bloody idiot and wasting your time.”

“Oi,” Noel said sharply, his voice cutting through your self-deprecation. “None of that, yeah? You’re not an idiot. You’re just havin’ a shite day. Everyone gets those.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your eyes. “I feel so ridiculous. Can I—would it be alright if I—could I have a hug or summat?”

Noel hesitated just long enough to seem reluctant, then opened his arms with a small shrug. “C’mere, then. Don’t make a habit of it, though. I’ve got a reputation to keep up.”

You laughed weakly and stepped into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you firmly. He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head, his voice dropping into a soothing murmur.

“See? Not the end of the world. You’re tougher than you think, love. Just need to remember that.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a watery smile. “Thanks, Noel. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smirked, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As you left his studio that night, your heart felt a little lighter, your manager might have been a pain, but at least Noel was always there, ready to offer a helping hand.

__________________________________________

first part of the little series, hope you lot enjoy this as I have some cool bits planned for the next part xx

but swear down I would not even be mad, please manipulate me all you want Noel idc

Pt. 2 here xx

[raayllum]

Why is Clauderry together / why is Terry with Claudia?

This is a question I've seen posed more than a few times in the fandom, of people feeling confused with why Claudia is with Terry (despite her dislike of elves) and more so why Terry is with Claudia despite her being a walking collection of red flags. This has, admittedly, always questions I felt the show answered quite well and obviously, but if it's still being probed, then... why not?

Let's talk about it.

Why is Claudia with Terry?

The only prior examples we have with Claudia having any kind of romantic connection is with Callum, which never came to fruition; I've also gone on record saying myself that the show made it clear Callum's feelings for Claudia were a lot stronger than whatever, if any, she held for him. However, in her interactions with Callum even just as a friend, we can see what she appreciates in her free time. For starters, we see that Claudia enjoys being a goofball:

We see that a shared sense of humour is something that Claudia cares about, as one of the only compliments she gives to Callum is "You always make me laugh" and "That was very confident Callum" as he was able to go with the flow while asserting himself.

Words of affirmation is also something she clearly enjoys. Appreciation, acknowledgement, and gratitude are very important to her.

(Side note: This is also part of why she spirals into "I did all THIS FOR YOU" on the beach in a "You owe me your life" kind of way, because she was prepared and sacrificed and saved you, and doesn't that deserve acknowledgement? Doesn't that mean getting what she wants? What she's owed? But I digress.)

We also see early fracturing in Callum not trusting her (1x03, 2x03), a subsequent breakdown in honest communication on both sides, and that Claudia reads Callum as being judgemental of her dark magic use, which is also something that frustrates her about Soren:

(Part of this is because Claudia has gone from seeing dark magic as just an amazing beautiful tool to a terrible but necessary one, so necessary that it overrules any other reservations... because she's attached to seeing herself as a Good Person—"But I'm not evil, it's me"—but again, I digress.)

Conversely, Terry has all of those things in spades. He admires and relies upon her dark magic use, he's someone she can be reciprocally goofy with, he's extremely attentive and loyal (and loyalty/devotion is something that is also extremely important to her), and perhaps most importantly, he's helpful and non-judgemental.

Terry also explains that one of the things Claudia likes about him is his smarts / creative thinking ("Goofy and glorious, just like you" / "You saved the day Ter-Bear") and his thoughtfulness:

Claudia says I think too much about everything, and that makes me weird, and wonderful, so...

This makes sense as Claudia values being prepared in her own day-to-day life curtesy of being a dark mage, and that Soren's tendency to being impatient when they were growing up together (lying about Harrow without consulting her, picking the fight with the dragon, etc) was something that got on her nerves.

As for the Elf 'elephant' in the room... Claudia also doesn't have an issue trusting Aaravos for one simple reason: he's helping her save her dad.

Even while she's warning Soren against trusting or forming friendships with other elves and dragons because they might "take advantage" of him and be fake friends, she can't see that's precisely what Aaravos is doing to her. In a similar vein, Terry also believes in her (as he says directly in 4x09) and is helping her save her father, so why would she have a problem with him even if he's an elf?

That doesn't mean there aren't problems in Claudia's worldview, or that exceptionalizing people is a Good thing to do, particularly to your partner, but it's a clearly defined and realistic cognitive dissonance. Claudia has moved past seeing all elves as Bad™ to "these ones are good" because they're helping her, and not getting in her way, and that's all she really personally cares about.

However, I think most people can understand why Claudia's with Terry, given how sweet and routinely supportive she is. The bigger thornier question then is the opposite. So let's talk about that too.

Why is Terry with Claudia?

One of the most common things people say when it comes to Terry and Claudia is that they wish we could see how they met (and presumably whether that initial attraction was there from the start or how it developed). This usually leans into an underpinning idea (and I could be wrong) that seeing their beginning would help indicate why Terry fell for her (and thereby why he stays). And I would definitely be interested in how they met, and am open to seeing it, whether in a show, graphic novel, or novelization mention.

That said, I think the show has also answered these accordingly. In a lot of ways, there's really only two reasons why Terry is with Claudia as she is in arc 2:

1) He doesn't have an Issue with dark magic.

He admires Claudia's use of it ("And your daughter's amazing, she brought you back from the dead, wow!"), is open and receptive to using it ("Dark magic has a tingly aftertaste, nobody ever tells you that"), and doesn't see anything fundamentally wrong with it ("Should I give up dark magic? Terry, tell me what to do" "Claudia, I can't"). On the one hand, this makes sense; there are spell ingredients of dark magic that aren't that different from hunting and given that Terry grew up near the Drakeriders, I'd find it hard to believe if the Drake riders don't hunt and eat meat, so even if Terry's village didn't, he was at least somewhat close to societies that did.

That doesn't mean he has zero reservations about dark magic ("I've seen you do some awful things, dark magic things" / "Are you mixing the pentapus ink with your own blood?") but that to him, it's not any different from how Claudia thinks about it. She also thinks she's done terrible things in the name of saving her father:

But I'm not evil. It's me. You know me.

I had to do things... [starts crying] I never imagined I would be able to do. (4x01)

This is also how Terry copes with murdering Ibis, citing "I had to, I couldn't let him hurt you," "and he was going to take Claudia's life, I had no choice," and "I'm going to be strong enough to do whatever I need to do and still have feelings." To Terry what matters most is exactly what he says in 4x09: why are you doing these things? Are they actually necessary?

Terry loves Claudia (and Viren by extension) above anything else. Everything he does is for them, good or bad. That devotional loyalty is something that Claudia also lives by, and is arguably her and Terry's biggest shared life value.

Doing terrible things is okay if it's in the name of love, and if it's not, then you shouldn't do them. This is why when he talks about his grief/guilt with Ibis, Terry always scaffolds it alongside the reason why he did it.

This is also why Terry steps in exclusively when what Claudia is doing is unnecessary. She didn't need to trick Rayla in order to get away. She doesn't need to kill the dragon ("It won't follow us anymore, it's trapped") as it's already helpless. They're actions without good reasons, which is also why Terry distrusts Aaravos, because he realizes:

Maybe this story started out as a story of love, but along the way it got twisted. [...] He isn't doing anything for love. He's doing it out of revenge.

So long as Claudia is doing things out of love, Terry will stick by her. And if she stops doing it out of love, then she stops being the Claudia he knows.

Which, I'll also note, is fundamentally different from the Claudia that everyone else knows, because

2) He didn't know Claudia beforehand.

Terry doesn't know Claudia as a semi sheltered girl growing up in the palace who did dark magic solely for fun, nor how most of her close personal relationships (Soren, Callum, Ezran) got destroyed in the span of 3ish weeks. He only knows Claudia who uses dark magic (seemingly) 90% out of complete necessity for flight, safety, and bringing her father back. He seemingly doesn't really know how Soren and Claudia had their falling out, nor does he have any real clue who Callum or Ezran are.

Because Claudia was his only way to know these things rather than knowing multiple people involved, or even living through experiences, Terry would've gotten sparse details or the version that is how Claudia experienced them, and he has no reason to doubt her.

To be clear, I'm not saying that their set up is perfect or that their relationships is perfectly healthy. It's not. Claudia's singular control over how Terry knows the experiences of her life when we as an audience know it's very different is an issue, but is not that dissimilar from when you meet / date new people to begin with (i.e. was their ex really that bad, or were they the problem is sometimes something that can only be known in time). Terry's passivity and mirrored worldview helps enable Claudia's even when she's being destructive to herself and others, and her treating Terry as an exception for his people is also not good in the long run. Clauderry walks this line of being incredibly sweet and uncomfortable, and I think that's one of the things that makes it interesting and with spades of tragedy, particularly going into S7. Terry may not yet have a deep seated issue with dark magic (which enables Claudia but also frees her up to grow on her own terms), but it is the reason they may be torn apart in the future for a time.

I do think they'll find their way back together eventually (even if they'll always be Divorced Eventually in my head). To me, it's clear why they love each other, and while TDP could say that's not enough (and I think that'd be a very interesting valid route to take), I don't think that they will. This scene exists, after all:

[jedi-enthusiast]

Ok here's my thing with "The Wrong Jedi" arc, and I'm saying this as someone who actually really likes Ahsoka in TCW.

People use this arc to shit on the Jedi (particularly the Council) so much, but like...Ahsoka was literally doing everything she could to make herself look guilty and give them no other choice but to suspect her.

Like, let's put this in perspective, shall we?

One of the people in your (really fucking large) family--someone you know of, but whom most of the family isn't really close to--gets accused of murdering someone and being a part of a terrorist group--and apparently there's video evidence, although even that doesn't really make it clear what happened.

You, of course, start trying to do everything you can to get said cousin out of jail since--even though you're not close to them--you don't think they would do something like that, and the evidence isn't concrete.

But, while you're trying to help them get released, you find out that your cousin has escaped from the county jail, several police officers are dead from knife wounds, and the only evidence is a knife that specifically belongs to your cousin as well as a couple other things that implicate them.

Your cousin goes on the run, then teams up with a known murderer and terrorist, and hurts even more police officers while on the run until finally they're caught once again.

Now you are left with a choice: you can either continue trying to defend your cousin, or you allow the police to take them into custody to face a trial.

Right now a lot of people hate your family, to the point that they're sending death threats and mail bombs and screaming obscenities outside your ancestral home.

It's already putting everyone else in your family, including literal children and babies, in danger and if you continue defend your cousin--despite all of the evidence that points to them being guilty--they could be put in even more danger and the government funding that your family lives off of could be taken away, since you would be defending a suspected terrorist.

So, in that situation, what would you honestly do?

You would do the smart, and reasonable, thing and stop defending your cousin so the police could take them into custody.

The Council tried to help Ahsoka, but she kept doing things to make herself look guilty and--in doing so--put them in a hard position where they couldn't defend her anymore without causing harm to the rest of the Order.

And would you really, truly, honestly defend someone when all of the evidence points to them being guilty? Of course not!

If you want to blame someone for what happened in that arc, blame Barriss for framing Ahsoka in the first place or Tarkin for being such a dick, but shut the fuck up about the Jedi.

They were put in a shitty position and made the best choices they could in a bad situation.

[honeyhaeya]

Untold

Kang Haerin FANFICTION (oneshot)

GN Reader x Kang Haerin - r16+!!!

GENRE: Angst, Drama, Romance, High school, RomCom.

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: Infidelity (light), Betrayal, Bullying / Rumours, Jealousy, Manipulation (light).

wc: 7134

Synopsis: In high school, rumors spread, secrets come out, and friendships get tested. You thought you knew who to trust, but when betrayal strikes, everything changes. Caught between your past and a surprising connection with the new girl, Haerin, you have to decide if you can rebuild what’s been broken. It’s a story of heartbreak, healing, and a romance you didn’t see coming.

>>>pictures are from 📌, CTTO

a/n: hope y'all like this one(?), idk, maybe it's a little cliche but well, we have our preferences soo... please do enjoy this work.

You were always the lively, outgoing, and extroverted student everyone knew at school, effortlessly drawing attention wherever you went. Your charm, humor, and kindness made you popular, and it didn’t hurt that girls seemed to swoon over you more than they ever did over the boys.

You were tomboyish, smart, and playful—a combination that had both admiration and envy directed your way, particularly from the boys. After all, you could steal girls’ hearts with ease, becoming the school’s unofficial heartthrob.

"Y/Nnie, you got another confession letter, this time from..." Minji, one of your closest friends, paused to inspect the letter in her hand. "Kim something," she shrugged, tossing it onto your desk. It was already the third confession of the day.

Sighing, you put down your phone and picked up the letter. Though you received these love letters regularly, you still appreciated them, each one different in its own way. What you didn’t enjoy was the inevitable rejection that followed—figuring out how to let someone down without breaking their heart was exhausting.

"The handwriting is neat," you commented, scanning the page. "And the way they described my eyes? Not bad at all." You folded the letter and stuffed it into your bag.

Minji rolled her eyes, hopping onto the table. "You don't even know him, do you?" she asked, a sly grin on her face.

"'Him'?" You blinked, surprised.

"Yeah, him. It’s a guy." Minji confirmed, watching as your expression shifted into a frown.

You sighed again, already preparing your response. Men weren’t your thing. Ever since what happened with your father, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust them. That’s why dating girls had always been so much easier—you could be dominant, in control, the way you wanted it.

"Tell him I'm not interested," you said, leaning back in your chair and reaching for your phone.

"What? Why do I have to do it?" Minji scoffed, crossing her arms. "That's your job, not mine."

The classroom buzzed with the usual gossip and chatter as the two of you settled into the lull of scrolling through your phones.

"Oh, did you hear there’s a transfer student?" Minji added casually. You barely reacted, too caught up in your feed to care.

"She’s transferring into your class," Minji continued. Before she could elaborate, the classroom door swung open, and everyone scrambled to their seats as the teacher entered.

Curious, you put your phone away and straightened up, eyeing the unfamiliar girl who followed the teacher inside. She had wide doe, cat eyes, her hair neat and shiny, and she stood taller than most of your classmates. Her presence was quiet, but something about her intrigued you enough to look twice.

The teacher clapped his hands to get the class’s attention. “Settle down, everyone. We have a new student joining us today.” His tone was neutral, but the room was buzzing with curiosity.

You leaned back in your seat, your eyes flickering back to the new girl standing at the front. Her hands were clasped tightly together, betraying a hint of nervousness despite her calm appearance. You found yourself watching her a bit too intently—she had this quiet confidence, the kind that intrigued you, but also left you wondering what secrets lay beneath the surface.

“This is Kang Haerin,” the teacher introduced. “She’s new here, so I hope you all make her feel welcome.”

Haerin. The name felt soft, matching her gentle demeanor. Your eyes followed her as she scanned the room, her gaze landing briefly on you before she quickly looked away. Was it just your imagination, or did she look... uneasy?

“Go ahead and take a seat,” the teacher said, motioning to the empty desk a few rows ahead of yours. As Haerin moved toward it, you noticed a ripple of whispers spreading among the students. You weren’t the only one who’d been captivated by her presence.

Minji leaned over, whispering, “She's pretty cute, huh? Heard she transferred from Seoul or something.”

You barely nodded, still watching Haerin as she sat down, adjusting her hair behind her ear. There was something about her you couldn’t quite place—something that made your chest tighten a little.

As the lesson resumed, you found it impossible to focus. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Haerin, wondering what her story was. Why did she transfer? Why did she look so tense when your eyes met? You weren’t used to being thrown off by someone, but here she was, making you question things you hadn’t thought about in a long time.

When the bell rang for lunch, Minji was quick to pull you aside.

"Let’s go grab food, I’m starving," she said, dragging you out of your seat. But before you could leave the classroom, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned to see Haerin standing there, her expression unreadable.

“Y/N, right?” she asked softly, her voice smooth but a little hesitant.

"Uh, yeah." You replied, trying to hide your surprise. How did she know your name?

“I—I just wanted to say hi,” she stammered, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. “You seem... popular around here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the statement. It was rare for someone to approach you so nervously. Most girls were bold, confident, trying to catch your attention with flirty remarks or teasing grins. But Haerin wasn’t like that.

"Uh, thanks. Welcome to the school, I guess," you replied, trying to sound casual.

She smiled—just a small curve of her lips, but it felt genuine. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with Minji watching the whole exchange, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm, weird,” Minji muttered. “New girl has guts. Didn’t expect that.”

You shrugged, trying to shake off the odd feeling lingering from your conversation with Haerin. But as you left the classroom, Minji linked her arms with you, leading you the way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria buzzed with laughter and chatter, the familiar sound of students teasing each other filling the air. You sat with your group of friends, casually picking at your food and sipping your favorite drink. One of your friends cracked a joke, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, thoroughly enjoying the playful atmosphere.

But then, someone approached your table. Haerin.

She stood there with a shy smile on her lips, clutching her lunch tray. The conversation around you quieted as all eyes shifted to her—and then to you. She didn’t say a word, but the way she looked at you, seeking silent permission to sit down, which created a brief moment of awkward tension.

Clearing your throat, you reached for her tray, placing it on the table as an invitation. Haerin took the seat across from you.

"Hey, new girl—Haerin, right?" one of your friends asked. Haerin nodded, picking up her chopsticks and nibbling on her food.

It was clear she wanted to be near you, but there was a certain distance between her and everyone else at the table. Maybe it was just her shyness, or perhaps something more. When your friends tried making small talk, asking her a few questions, she responded with simple nods and shakes of her head. The lack of engagement left some of them visibly annoyed.

But you? You were the most intrigued.

You noticed how she kept making eye contact with you, her gaze lingering before darting away, like she was trying hard to maintain her composure but couldn’t quite manage. That amused smirk tugged at the corner of your lips—you were enjoying this little game of push and pull. It was the most excitement you’d felt in a while.

As the conversation drifted and your friends began goofing off, you leaned in across the table, your smirk never fading.

"We’re both sitting here, feeling..." You started, but before you could finish, Minji slumped down beside you, taking the empty seat next to yours. Her arm casually wrapped around your waist as she rested her head on your shoulder, her attention fixed on her phone.

Minji glanced across the table, noticing Haerin. She narrowed her eyes for a brief moment before offering a polite smile. "Hey, new girl," she said casually, before immediately returning her focus to her phone. She leaned in closer to show you something on the screen—a funny picture, judging by your stifled laugh.

Haerin, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly spoke up. Her voice was soft, but her words had an edge of determination. "Feeling what, Y/N?"

Her directness took everyone by surprise, their attention snapping back to her. It wasn’t the kind of tone anyone expected from her—especially not aimed at you.

You blinked, caught off guard, while Minji looked between the two of you, her confusion evident. Something unspoken was hanging in the air now, the tension palpable.

The silence that followed Haerin’s question was thick. You felt the eyes of your friends on you, waiting for your response, but it was Haerin’s unwavering gaze that held your attention.

You leaned back slightly, tilting your head as if to analyze her. That determination in her voice had caught you off guard. For a moment, you weren’t sure if she was challenging you or just curious, but either way, it made your heart race in a way you weren’t used to.

A slow grin spread across your lips. “Feeling curious,” you said smoothly, your eyes locked on hers. “About you.”

Your words hung in the air, and you could tell by the way Haerin’s posture stiffened that she hadn’t expected that response. The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she wasn’t sure how to react.

Before the tension could build further, Minji’s grip around your waist tightened slightly, her head still resting on your shoulder. “What are you two talking about?” she asked, her tone light but laced with something unspoken. Jealousy, perhaps?

You glanced at her briefly, your smirk fading just a little. “Nothing serious,” you replied casually, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that Minji’s sudden closeness wasn’t just random.

Minji gave Haerin a once-over before returning her focus to her phone, but the subtle shift in her demeanor wasn’t lost on you. Something was definitely off with her, but you couldn’t figure out what just yet.

Haerin, on the other hand, had composed herself. She lowered her gaze to her food, her expression unreadable, but there was a noticeable tension in her shoulders. Your curiosity deepened.

The cafeteria noise resumed, and your friends went back to fooling around, but your mind was elsewhere. Haerin had piqued your interest in a way you hadn’t expected, and Minji’s reaction only complicated things further.

As lunch neared its end, Haerin quietly gathered her tray. Without a word, she stood up and walked away, but not before glancing at you one last time. That look in her eyes—it wasn’t just shy anymore. There was something deeper, something that made you want to follow her.

But before you could act on that impulse, Minji’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You’re not actually into her, are you?” she asked, her tone playful but with an edge of seriousness.

You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to read between the lines. “What makes you think that?”

Minji shrugged, still holding onto you tightly. “I don’t know. Just wondering.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

There it was again. That hint of jealousy. You could feel it creeping into her words, her body language. And for the first time, you began to wonder if Minji’s feelings for you ran deeper than friendship.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you stood up and stretched, your mind racing with the possibilities. Haerin. Minji. The strange tension building between the three of you.

This was going to get interesting.

After lunch, you and Minji headed to your next class, but your mind was still caught between Haerin’s strange behavior and Minji’s lingering possessiveness. It wasn’t long before you noticed someone else watching you—Hyejin, the class president.

Hyejin was one of those girls who seemed perfect at everything: top of the class, captain of the debate team, and effortlessly cool in a way that didn’t scream for attention but still got it anyway. You’d never paid her much mind, but today she seemed particularly interested in your interaction with Haerin. Maybe a little too interested.

As you slid into your seat, Hyejin casually walked over and leaned against your desk. “So, what’s going on with the new girl?”

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her sudden interest. “What do you mean?”

She gave you a sly smile. “Don’t play dumb, Y/N. Everyone saw her sitting at your table, looking like she wanted to say more than just ‘hi.’ The whole cafeteria was buzzing about it.”

“Is that so?” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “Didn’t know it was that big a deal.”

Hyejin shrugged, but the way her eyes sparkled with mischief told you she wasn’t buying your nonchalance. “You have a way of stirring things up, you know that? First Minji practically glued to your side, now the new girl with those doe eyes of hers. You might want to watch out.”

You smirked. “Sounds like I’ve got competition.”

Hyejin’s smile widened, but there was something sharper behind it. “Just a friendly warning. Some people don’t take well to sharing.”

Her words hung in the air for a second longer than necessary before she sauntered back to her seat, leaving you with a new thought: Hyejin wasn’t just warning you out of kindness. She was clearly up to something, and you had a feeling this wasn’t the last you’d hear from her.

As class dragged on, you noticed more students glancing in your direction, no doubt fueled by Hyejin’s not-so-subtle observations. The attention wasn’t new to you, but today it felt different. The vibe in the room had shifted. Even Minji, who was usually content to banter with you throughout class, seemed quieter than usual, stealing glances at Haerin whenever she thought you weren’t looking.

By the time the final bell rang, you were ready to escape the growing tension. But as you packed up your things, you spotted someone else lingering near the door—Jisoo, your partner from last semester’s science project.

Jisoo wasn’t part of your usual crowd, but the two of you had gotten along well enough while working together. She was quiet, more of an observer than a talker, but when she did speak, it was with a sharpness that caught people off guard. Today, though, she seemed different. Nervous.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “What’s up?”

Jisoo hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s about Haerin.”

You blinked. “The new girl?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I don’t know her personally, but... I’ve heard some things. Back at her old school, she didn’t exactly have the best reputation.”

You frowned, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

Jisoo leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s just say she’s not as innocent as she looks. There were rumors—about her messing with people’s heads, getting close to them and then... turning on them. I don’t know how much of it is true, but I thought you should know. Be careful around her.”

Before you could respond, Jisoo quickly walked away, leaving you standing there with more questions than answers.

Haerin, with her quiet demeanor and shy smiles, didn’t seem like the type to cause trouble. But then again, everyone has secrets.

As you walked out of the classroom, you caught sight of Haerin standing at the far end of the hallway, talking to one of the teachers. For a brief moment, her eyes met yours, and that familiar unease crept back into your chest.

What was her deal?

Just then, a pair of arms snaked around your waist from behind, pulling you into a familiar embrace. You didn't need to look to know who it was—Minji. She rested her chin on your shoulder, her warmth sending a sense of comfort through you. But today, it felt different. She was being unusually clingy, and you could sense a certain edge in her tone when she spoke.

“Karaoke later?” she asked, her voice teasing but with an undertone of something deeper. “Seonhwa and the others are coming.”

You hesitated. On one hand, you had cram school later—something you couldn’t afford to miss—but on the other, hanging out with your friends sounded like the perfect distraction from the swirling confusion in your mind. You weighed your options, feeling Minji’s arms tighten slightly around you, as if trying to pull you in more than just physically.

“I don’t know,” you replied, unsure. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”

Minji’s grip didn’t loosen. Instead, she let out a soft sigh, her voice dropping to a low, almost coaxing tone. “Come on, Y/N, we don’t get to do this every day. Just this once. Please?”

Her persistence was hard to resist, as usual. You glanced over your shoulder at her pouting expression, knowing full well she wasn’t going to let this go. With a sigh of your own, you finally gave in.

“Fine,” you muttered, “but only for a little while.”

Minji’s face lit up with a victorious smile, and before you could react, she grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours in a way that felt far more intimate than usual. The closeness was something you’d grown used to over time, but today, with the weight of Haerin’s earlier gaze still lingering in your mind, it felt...different. Almost like a silent competition was brewing between the two girls.

As Minji led you out of the classroom, your thoughts were disrupted when you passed by Haerin, who was still standing by the door. The brief exchange of glances between you felt electric, as though there was an unspoken connection pulling you towards her, even as Minji clung to your side.

But then, out of nowhere, you felt a gentle tug on your wrist. You turned around, surprised to see Haerin standing there, her fingers still wrapped lightly around your wrist. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to slow.

Minji stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing at Haerin in a way that wasn’t just curious—it was almost territorial. “Can we help you?” Minji asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

Haerin ignored her and looked straight at you, her unreadable expression softening into a quiet smile. “See you tomorrow?” she asked, her voice so gentle, it sent a shiver down your spine. The smile she gave you—small and shy—was strangely comforting, and for a second, you forgot that Minji was still standing next to you.

Caught off guard, you returned the smile, a genuine half-smile that felt like the most honest reaction you’d had all day. “Yeah,” you replied softly. “See you tomorrow.”

The tension between the three of you was palpable as Minji let out a loud sigh, pulling you closer to her, almost as if to stake her claim. “Alright, enough with the sweet goodbyes,” she grumbled, lacing her arm through yours once more. “We’re late.”

With that, Minji practically dragged you away, but your thoughts were left behind with Haerin—her smile, her touch, and the lingering feeling that something about her was different. As you caught up with the rest of your friends, your mind kept wandering back to Haerin, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complicated than you anticipated.

The walk with Minji was filled with light chatter, but your thoughts kept drifting. Without thinking too much, you brought up the one question that had been nagging at you since lunch.

“So, what’s Haerin’s story? What happened at her old school before she transferred here?”

Minji paused, her steps slowing slightly. She seemed to consider it for a moment before offering a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard she’s bad news. Doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

Her tone was casual, almost dismissive, but you couldn’t help noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor—the tension in her voice, the way she stiffened. It made you wonder if your question had struck a nerve. Was it curiosity or something else? A flicker of jealousy, maybe? Minji never liked to share your attention, but for now, she kept her emotions in check, hiding behind her usual playful facade.

You arrived at the karaoke room soon after, the air immediately filling with laughter and music. The atmosphere was lively, as always, your friends singing and goofing off without a care in the world. Minji, though, had a different energy tonight. Whenever it was her turn to sing, her eyes found yours, and every love song she chose seemed to carry a hidden message.

It was subtle at first, but soon, it became impossible to ignore—the way her gaze lingered on you, her voice softening as if speaking only to you. And while you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, the intensity behind her eyes was unmistakable. You smiled, trying to play it off like you hadn’t noticed, but deep down, you knew. There was something more to her actions tonight, something she wasn’t saying.

But you couldn’t let yourself think about it. Not now. Your friendship with Minji was important, too much to lose over misinterpreting her signals. So, you decided to stay neutral, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

As the night went on, amidst the laughter and off-key singing, Seonhwa suddenly brought up a familiar name, one that immediately caught your attention.

“Haerin,” she said casually, as if dropping a bomb in the middle of the conversation.

Minji’s eyes narrowed at your reaction, but she said nothing, simply watching you closely.

“I think that new girl’s into you,” Seonhwa added, glancing at you with a mischievous smirk. The others murmured in agreement, some laughing, some nodding.

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you played it cool, forcing a laugh. “Really? I don’t think so.”

Seonhwa wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily. “Oh, come on. You must’ve noticed something. Or... is it that you’re into her too?”

You chuckled again, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you crazy? I barely know her. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm, sure.” Seonhwa’s tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable. Before she could push further, someone else chimed in.

“She’s weird, though. Off, you know? Definitely not your type.”

The conversation shifted again, as Seonhwa quickly moved on to another topic, but you were left with your thoughts. You stared down at your grape juice, swirling it absentmindedly.

Why did you care so much? You’d only just met Haerin, yet she was all you could think about. It was unlike you. The magnetic pull you felt towards her—this unfamiliar curiosity—was something new, something that unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was as if you've just discovered a part of you that you, yourself didn't even know existed.

And yet, for the first time, you found yourself wanting to know more.

The morning sun filtered through the classroom windows as you settled into your seat. The usual buzz of students preparing for the day filled the room, but your thoughts were still wrapped around the previous night’s karaoke session. Haerin’s name, her curious eyes, and that inexplicable pull you felt towards her were on your mind.

As the day went on, you found yourself scanning the hallway for Haerin. The moments between classes felt longer than usual, and you were increasingly aware of how much you wanted to get to know her better.

Your chance came during lunch. As you walked into the cafeteria, you spotted Haerin sitting alone at a corner table, her lunch untouched as she flipped through a book. You hesitated for a moment, then made your way over.

“Hey, Haerin,” you greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. “Mind if I join you?”

She looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a soft, shy smile. “Of course. I was actually hoping you would.”

The conversation started off slow but gradually picked up. You learned that Haerin had a love for literature and was passionate about art, which was something you could relate to. You found her company surprisingly calming, and her quiet nature seemed to draw out a side of you that you rarely showed to others.

Days turned into weeks, and your friendship with Haerin grew. You’d meet up between classes, share stories, and support each other. You noticed Haerin’s subtle gestures of encouragement, especially when she caught on to your quieter moments and offered a listening ear.

During one of your conversations, Haerin brought up a topic that made you pause.

“You know,” she began, her voice gentle, “I’ve noticed that you seem to carry a lot with you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. The trauma from your childhood—seeing your father with another woman, the betrayal, the pain—it was something you never really spoke about. But with Haerin’s sincerity, the walls you had built around those memories began to crack.

“I appreciate that, Haerin,” you said, looking down at your hands. “It’s just… hard to trust people, especially men.”

Haerin nodded, her expression one of understanding. “It’s okay to take your time. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

As the weeks passed, you found yourself opening up more to Haerin, sharing bits and pieces of your past. She listened without judgment, offering support that slowly began to heal old wounds. The bond between you grew stronger, but the romance wasn’t rushed. It was more like a gentle breeze, gradually building up over time.

Meanwhile, Minji’s presence remained a constant in your life. She continued to be clingy, but her actions were becoming more noticeable. She would often interrupt conversations with Haerin, subtly trying to draw you back into her orbit. Minji’s jealousy simmered beneath the surface, and you could sense it in the way she would look at you and Haerin.

One afternoon, after a particularly intense discussion about your past with Haerin, you noticed Minji waiting outside the classroom, arms crossed and a frown on her face. As you approached, Minji's gaze shifted between you and Haerin.

“So, you two are getting close, huh?” she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

You felt a pang of guilt but tried to stay calm. “Uh.. Yeah,"

Minji’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing more. Instead, she pulled you aside, her voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “I just don’t want to lose you. It feels like you’re drifting away.”

Her confession hit you harder than you expected. You had always valued your friendship with Minji, and the thought of losing her was unsettling. But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the connection you were building with Haerin.

You took a deep breath and looked at Minji, trying to find the right words. “I’m not going anywhere. But things are changing, and I need to figure them out. I hope you understand.”

Minji’s expression softened, and she gave a small nod, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness. “Okay. I get it.”

As you walked back to Haerin, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were becoming more complicated. Yet, with Haerin by your side and Minji’s support, you felt more grounded than you had in a long time.

The journey wasn’t over, and there were still challenges ahead, but you were ready to face them, one step at a time.

In the days that followed, rumors about Haerin started spreading through the school. Students whispered about her past—how she was rumored to have bullied others and earned the nickname ‘liar and snake’ at her old school. The gossip seemed to grow darker with each passing day, and it wasn’t long before you heard it too.

Seonhwa was chatting about the rumors in the cafeteria, and you felt a pang of worry for Haerin. Without thinking, you rushed out to find her, but she was nowhere in sight.

Days turned into weeks, and Haerin still didn’t come to school. You became increasingly concerned, and then, things took a turn for the worse. Your own secrets were exposed.

When you walked into the cafeteria one day, the scene was chaotic. Papers were scattered all over—on the floor, tables, and even the walls. Each paper had your face and personal secrets printed on it. You froze when you saw a paper that said, “father cheated trauma freak,” with your picture on it.

Haerin was the only one you had ever shared that secret with. The betrayal was too much to bear.

As you stood there, feeling a mix of shock and sadness, Minji came over and patted your back. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she said, trying to comfort you. But the pain of the betrayal was overwhelming.

You grabbed some of the papers and crumpled them in your hands, your eyes filling with tears. The cafeteria, usually a lively place, now felt cold and hostile. You couldn’t see the faces of your classmates—they were all a blur as the tears flowed.

Minji noticed how upset you were and tried to offer more comfort. “Y/N, we’ll figure this out. I’m here for you,” she said, her voice filled with concern. But her words barely reached you through the fog of your emotions.

“Why would Haerin do this?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling. “I trusted her.”

Minji looked at you with sympathy. “I don’t know. But we need to find out what happened.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of frustration and determination. The betrayal was deep, and the exposure of your secrets was painful, but you knew you had to confront the situation. The first step was to find Haerin and get some answers.

Weeks had passed since the papers were scattered around the cafeteria. You were still dealing with the aftermath, feeling lost and overwhelmed. Minji remained by your side, offering support and comfort through your darkest moments. Her presence was a constant source of solace, and gradually, you started to notice a shift in your feelings toward her.

One evening, as you sat together, you found the courage to express how much Minji meant to you. “Minji, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. “You’ve been amazing through all of this, and I realize that I want to be more than just friends.”

Minji’s eyes widened in surprise, her face lighting up with joy. “Really? You mean it?” she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, smiling. “Yes. I want us to be together.”

The two of you started dating, and though you were happy with Minji, there was a lingering emptiness. It felt as though something important was missing from your life—a puzzle piece that had yet to be found. You continued with your daily routine as if Haerin had never been part of your life. Yet, the absence of her explanation gnawed at you, leaving you unsettled.

As the days went by, Minji and you grew closer in your relationship, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you needed closure with Haerin. The thoughts of her and the unanswered questions about the rumors lingered in your mind.

One day, while walking through a park, you unexpectedly ran into Haerin. She looked just as surprised to see you. “Y/N,” she said hesitantly, her gaze filled with uncertainty. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Haerin,” you said, your heart pounding. “I need to talk to you. I’ve been feeling like I need to understand what really happened.”

Haerin looked up, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and relief. "... I’m glad you came,” she said softly. “I’ve been avoiding school because I didn’t want to deal with the rumors. They were so painful, and I wanted to stay away from the drama.”

You sat down beside her, listening intently. “I need to believe you, Haerin. The rumors were brutal, and my own secrets were exposed. I can’t understand why someone would do that, especially when I trusted you.”

For a moment, Haerin's eyes widened in surprise, as if she wasn't expecting hearing that your secrets have been exposed. She had no clue, but would you believe her? "W- what...?" she stammered, still in disbelief. But you only stared at her for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to steady the moment.

Haerin’s eyes filled with tears as she continued. “I swear, I didn’t spread those rumors. I don’t know who did, but it wasn't me. I'm as shocked as you when I heard about it. I think someone must have used my name to spread lies. I never meant to hurt you.”

The sincerity in Haerin’s voice gave you pause. You wanted to believe her, but doubts lingered. As you processed her words, another thought crossed your mind: Minji. She knew about your secret, and it seemed too coincidental for her not to be involved.

You listened intently, trying to make sense of her words. Doubt still lingered in your mind, but the thought: Minji had known your secret for a long time. Why would she betray you now?

With a heavy heart, you decided to confront Minji. You arranged to meet her at a quiet café, the tension palpable between you.

“Minji,” you began, struggling to keep your voice steady, “I need to ask you something. Did you have anything to do with the rumors about me and Haerin?”

Minji’s face went pale. She looked down, her hands fidgeting with her cup. It was a brief moment of silence before she spilled everything about what happened—far from what you've expected.

“Y/N, I... I did it,” she admitted quietly, her voice breaking. “I was jealous. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being interested in someone else. I thought that if I could push Haerin away, you’d focus on me.”

The pain of Minji’s confession hit hard. The betrayal felt like a sharp wound. “Why, Minji? Why would you do this? You knew how much this secret meant to me.”

The reason you never talked about your past with just anyone was because you, yourself were insecure of not having the father to lead you like others. And with that being exposed with the reason of this... It was too much.

Minji’s eyes watered with tears. “I’m sorry. I let my jealousy get the best of me. I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you.” As she explained, how Seonhwa was also behind every rumour she made about Haerin and set her up, it was too much.

The revelation was devastating. You realized that the person you had trusted most had betrayed you out of jealousy. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but you knew you had to make a decision.

“I can’t be with you anymore, Minji,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm despite the sadness. “I need to focus on healing and understanding what’s right for me.”

Minji’s tears flowed freely, but you stood up, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. You needed to rebuild your life and find closure with Haerin.

After ending things with Minji, you reached out to Haerin once more. You both started to reconnect, and although it wasn’t easy, you began to rebuild trust. You spent time together, getting to know each other better and working through the past hurts.

Slowly but surely, your bond with Haerin grew stronger. The feelings of emptiness started to fade, replaced by a sense of understanding and companionship. The missing piece of your life began to fall into place, and with patience and openness, you found a new sense of peace and hope for the future.

After everything, rebuilding your relationship with Haerin was slow and delicate, but it felt right. You spent more time together, learning about each other, laughing at the little things, and healing from the wounds left behind by the rumors and betrayal. Each moment with her made you feel like a missing piece of your heart had finally been found.

"So, can you tell me what really happened in your old school?" You asked, taking a sip on your favorite beverage.

Haerin thought for a moment, then nodded. "Well, my mom had to work near here so she decided to transfer me on one of the schools," she explained and you nodded, still slightly surprised that her story was far from the rumours you've heard. "Seonhwa... She was my friend before, but things between us didn't end really well, so maybe she spread those rumours about me absentmindedly,"

She noticed that look on your face, making her giggle—a soft laugh that was infectious. It made you smile, "What? Why are you laughing?" You questioned, although the smile remained on your face.

"Nothing," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, making you feel utterly speechless. Your stomach soon felt as if there were butterflies in it while you felt your face heat up—an emotion you didn't quite normally get. It was as if every time you were with Haerin, you keep discovering a new version of you that would have never thought would even exist.

There were times you and Haerin bumped into Minji in the halls. It was unavoidable at school. Each time, you'd catch her staring from afar, her eyes full of sadness and regret. You couldn’t ignore the heaviness of it all, but you knew in your heart that you had made the right decision. The awkwardness was there, but it didn’t consume you anymore. You had moved on, and slowly, Minji seemed to realize that too.

One day, as you and Haerin walked home from school, a gentle silence fell between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was calming, the kind of silence that comes with being at ease in someone else’s presence. You thought about everything you had been through together, from the initial distrust, the rumors, to now—this peaceful, growing friendship. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.

As you reached the park, you both sat down on a bench, watching the leaves rustle in the soft breeze. Haerin spoke first, her voice soft but sure.

“I’m glad we’ve come this far. I didn’t think we’d be able to, especially after what happened,” she admitted, glancing at you with a small smile.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotions you couldn’t quite express. It was rare for you to feel this way—this close to someone again. And yet, something deeper lingered. A warmth that had been growing steadily within you.

Suddenly, without thinking, you blurted, “I like you, Haerin. I mean, really like you.”

Your confession hung in the air, a rare moment of vulnerability for you. It wasn’t like you to be the one to confess first, but this time, it felt different—like the right thing to do. Your heart pounded in your chest, but there was a strange relief in finally saying what had been on your mind for weeks.

Haerin blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting you to be the one to confess. A slow, wide smile spread across her face, and she let out a soft laugh. “You really beat me to it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been wanting to say that too, but I didn’t know how.”

You both chuckled at the awkwardness of the moment, but it only made the confession feel more real, more honest. Haerin reached over and gently took your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion.

“I like you too, Y/N. More than I’ve liked anyone,” she whispered, her voice sincere.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was falling into place. The weight of your past traumas, the scars from Minji’s betrayal, and the confusion of your feelings all seemed to fade in that moment. Sitting there, with Haerin’s hand in yours, you felt whole.

As the days passed, you and Haerin continued to grow closer. It wasn’t always easy, and sometimes the shadows of the past crept up on you, but together, you found a way to move forward. There was laughter—plenty of it—small moments of joy in the chaos of school life, and the undeniable feeling of falling for someone who understood you in ways no one else had.

And while Minji still lingered in the background, her presence no longer held the weight it once did. You couldn’t completely avoid her, but the distance between you both had become bearable. Over time, even she seemed to find a way to move on, though the sting of betrayal would remain with you both for a long time.

In the end, you found something rare—something that went beyond just healing from the past. You found someone who made you feel like yourself again. With Haerin by your side, life was far from perfect, but it was yours, and for the first time, it felt like it was truly beginning.

And now, sitting on a bench with Haerin, giggling at teasing at each other, you felt content and mostly... You felt love. With all problems fading away, while Haerin had that small, shy smile—which made you reminisce on the first day you saw her. Maybe even then, you were already in love with her as it is, you just never found it out yourself until now.

As Haerin held your hand, staring at your eyes like the both of you did back on day one, you couldn't help but lean close to her, cupping her cheek with your other hand while the other was busy holding hers, intertwining fingers with one another.

She leaned into your touch and before you knew it, your face were inches away from hers. "Can I?" You asked, and with a split second-pause, Haerin nodded, her breath hitched upon finally touching your lips.

The kiss wasn't rushed at all—if anything, it was deliberate, passionate, and most importantly... It tasted like love.

a/n: okay, maybe i focused too much on readers pov. well, that's all, luvvies. did you like it? hehe. please like, reblog or follow! love y'all and stay safe. mwaapsss. 💋 xoxo

[donquixotehomura]

Trafalgar Law x Reader Period Comfort

Master List

Two in a row? damn. just some more Law fluff, mentions of periods and symptoms that accompany them.

As Y/N curled up on the couch, clutching a hot water bottle to her abdomen, Law busied himself in the kitchen, preparing a soothing herbal tea and a light meal for her. He knew from experience that her menstrual cramps could be particularly painful, and he was determined to do everything in his power to help alleviate her discomfort. 

Setting the tray down on the coffee table, Law sat beside Y/N, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "I made you some tea," he said softly, offering her a warm smile. "And I've prepared a balanced meal to help ease the pain." 

Y/N looked up at him with a grateful expression, her eyes still clouded with discomfort. "Thank you, Law," she murmured, accepting the cup of tea with trembling hands. 

As Y/N sipped on her tea, Law began to massage her lower back, using gentle, circular motions to help relieve tension and promote relaxation. He knew the importance of touch in providing comfort during times of pain, and he wanted Y/N to feel supported and cared for. 

After finishing her tea, Y/N leaned back against the cushions, her eyelids growing heavy with fatigue. Law tucked a soft blanket around her shoulders, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her drift off to sleep. 

Throughout the day, Law continued to tend to Y/N's needs, fetching her pain medication, preparing nourishing meals, and offering words of comfort and encouragement. Despite his insistence that sweets weren't good for her, he couldn't resist giving in to her pleading puppy-dog eyes, handing her a piece of candy with a playful sigh. 

As the evening drew near, Y/N began to feel a little better, the pain in her abdomen gradually easing. She looked up at Law with a grateful smile, her eyes shining with appreciation.  Law would be very easy to convince to join in a cuddle session, he'd half heartedly grumble about his responsibilities but he's already curled up with her, holding her from behind while his hands rub at her stomach. somehow he found a way to use his Devil fruit to help with the pain. he's a pretty smart doctor and caring boyfriend.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Law," she said softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "You always know how to make me feel better." 

Law returned her smile, squeezing her hand gently. "It's my pleasure, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what." 

[rebouks]

Robin’s first day at school after the winter holidays was just like any other; painful, overwhelming, and slightly boring.

There was a myriad of reasons he didn’t want to be here, but Oscar and Courtney were adamant it was somehow important-.. and mandatory, so Robin didn’t have a choice. They’d become immune to his avoidant shenanigans over time too, no longer were they so easily fooled, even when he’d made himself sick on purpose.

 He’d given up eventually, the worried glances they’d exchange each morning proving to be as tiresome as school itself. Pretending to be fine was better than being shipped off to some snooty shrink again; one who wouldn’t believe him anyway, who couldn’t even imagine the nonsense he was subject to on a daily basis, despite their fancy certificates hanging behind their fancy desks.

Robin was completely mute whilst at school, save for the odd whisper to Jude or sometimes Jacob, if necessary-.. but never Juniper. She was too condescending with her concern and far too obvious. He wanted to fade into obscurity, not be thrust into the limelight by an overzealous cousin trying to do the “right” thing by speaking on his behalf.

He’d resorted to telling her off in the end, her lip quivering as he explained how she was only making things worse. Robin wasn’t sure what had surprised her more, the fact that he was so vehemently opposed to being defended, or that he’d spoken to her at all. She’d acquiesced though, so that was something.

The only person he spoke to properly was nurse Wiles, or Silvia, as she insisted at this point. The cacophony of voices and Robin’s general disdain for being trapped in this hellish building for six hours a day usually resulted in a pounding headache and a disgusting, dissolvable aspirin; he was her most frequent visitor, discounting the child that was practically allergic to everything in sight.

He kept to himself as much as he could, scrawling out enough work to avoid being pulled up and listening to music wherever he could. He had a solid collection of tiny I-pod shuffles and headphones by now, enough to rotate between classes as they inevitably wound up being seized by exasperated adults.

His favourite deception were the decoy headphones, their obnoxious size drawing immediate attention and victorious confiscation. He’d huff and hand them over in defeat, only to thread a smaller more inconspicuous pair beneath his shirt and tuck them under his thick, curly mop as soon as their backs were turned; they were none the wiser, content with their perceived punishment. Robin thought teachers were supposed to be smart…

Though Robin’s long tangle of curls were useful in some ways, they also drew their fair share of unwanted attention. As if being provoked, shoved, tripped, and called “Mutey” wasn’t enough, he was often referred to as a girl, particularly by the other boys.

He wasn’t entirely sure why it was so hilarious, or why it never got old, especially since it was painfully obvious by now that he didn’t give a shit. He was used to being the proverbial punching bag. Being as different as he was obviously made him an easy target, almost as though he had a bullseye permanently woven into the fabric of his jumper.

He’d surmised that they had their reasons for picking on him though; some had parents who were just as cruel, some had none at all, some were desperate to fit in, and some were just too stupid to know any better.

Either way, Robin had decided a long time ago that he’d rather they mithered him with their so-called bullying than risk upsetting some poor schmuck who wasn’t privy to the concealed insecurities that diluted their venomous words and wicked laughter.

Most of Robin’s classes were raucous, yet dull. He could barely hear himself think over the combined clamour of diligent workers and class clowns, and since he could usually glean the answers to any questions from his classmates or the teachers themselves, he never saw much point in trying.

He knew it probably wasn’t great to miss out on the “working out” part of the work, but it was too hard to concentrate even if he’d wanted to. Oscar always helped him with his homework after dinner anyway, so a least he wasn’t going to end up completely lacking in the brain cell department-.. hopefully.

Swimming lessons and PE weren’t so bad, but art was his favourite class of all. Most people got too caught up in what they were doing to daydream noisily or obsess over potentially incorrect answers. There was no right or wrong when it came to creation, and Robin was actually good at drawing, painting, or whatever else his sticky fingers fancied throwing together.

His art teacher even let him wear his headphones during class too, so he’d get to sit at the back of the room in a blissful cocoon of loud music and pencil shavings, wishing every period were this laid back.

All in all, school was utter shite; and at the end of each terrible day when the bell finally rang, Robin was beyond glad that it was over.

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