#you just gave them money and fed their ego and now they think we all want to buy their shit

[floral-hex]

uuuuugggghhhhh tumblr fucked up the mobile app again. The new update replaces your profile tab with one for tumblrmart 😑, so if you haven’t updated the app yet, maybe hold off until they (hopefully) correct this. In the meanwhile, I can’t easily flip between my drafts and my profile so I can’t really do my whole color-coordinated bullshit, so… I dunno. I’m sure I’ll still post a little bit, but this all just makes it a biiit too much work for what’s supposed to be a dumb little way to pass the time. What a hassle blegh blegh blegh

[mayajadewrites]

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

story summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

ao3

C H A P T E R E I G H T : T O M O R R O W

WARNING: explicit scenes in this chapter!! let me know what you think :)

Levi lead you into his living room that you were all too familiar with. His expression was... blank. You couldn't tell if he was sad, mad, or anything in between.

You sit on the couch opposite to the chair he's sitting in. "Levi, I-"

"You should know this," Levi looks down. "I'm not the best at... well, talking. My mother is someone who was... so special to me." 

"Levi." You press your hand on top of his. "I'm here to listen." 

Levi sighs as he sits back in his chair. "My mother and I grew up poor. Like, dirt poor." Levi started talking. It feels like it's been forever since you and him had an actual conversation instead of just arguing. "We were couch surfing and squatting in abandoned houses. Then, she got sick. We don't know what it was since we couldn't afford to go to a doctor. We couldn't even afford food. I was starving every day. Dreaming of bread." Levi looks down. "One day, she wouldn't even attempt to get out of bed. Or even talk to me. I remember her telling me about her brother, my uncle, and I had his phone number written down. I begged the corner store to let me use their phone, and thankfully they let me."

Your heart sinks thinking of how lonely Levi felt. How he was lacking basic needs.

"I called Kenny and he came and stayed with my mother during her last moments. I stood on the other side of her with my hand in hers. I remember her saying, 'Kenny, please take care of my Levi.' The pressure I was feeling from her hand suddenly just... disappeared. My mother's body was still there, but her soul was gone." 

Tears start to well up in your eyes. Levi's eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke, his deep voice cracking when he spoke of the final moments with his mother.

"Then I went and lived with Kenny. Which... wasn't the best either. He fed me, but he wanted me to learn to fend for myself. I would cause fights in school and Kenny had to beg them to let me stay." Levi cleared his throat. "He didn't know how to be a parent. I don't blame him. His sister died and left behind me. My father, who the hell knows who he is - Kenny felt he had no choice. But he did have a choice. He could've just-"

"Levi, he could not just leave you."

"He could've."

"But he didn't. You're his nephew, I'm sure he saw you and saw some of himself."

"Well, when I turned 18, he left. He told me I was an adult now and I had to figure life out. I was being... well, to put it lightly, a delinquent when I met Erwin. He's a tall, well kept man and I wanted to steal from him. He looked like he had money so he was the perfect target. For whatever reason, he wanted to be my friend. He's been in my life ever since." Levi finally looked at you. "He opened his home to me. He fed me. He taught me the ways of being a business man."

You didn't know how deep Erwin and Levi's friendship was. They're bonded brothers.

His mother left, Kenny left - no wonder he likes to leave. Must be an Ackerman thing. 

You stared into Levi's eyes - watching the storm brew. Your heart sank as you explored his face, your feelings for him resurfacing.

"Now you know why I am the way I am." Levi put his hands on his knees. "I don't blame you if you want to leave."

"Levi." You walk over to his chair, slowly sitting on his lap. "Do you want me to leave?" You gently wrap your arms around him. 

"I think you want to -"

"Answer my question." You grab his chin, pulling his face towards you. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Levi shook his head. "I never want you to leave." 

You felt like there was life brought back to you. The piece of your heart that broke off when you left Levi mended back to you. 

"We have to start over then." You caress his face gently. You wanted to just hold him during this vulnerable moment. "Like, we're going on dates. Almost like we were never together." 

"Hm?" Levi tilted his head. "But we did date... for 2 years."

"Levi. Do you want to make this work or no?" 

"I do." 

"Then we're starting over. I don't want us to jump back into this and make the same mistakes." 

Levi nods, letting his hand rest on your thigh. "Are you sure you don't want to leave? I'm giving you an out." 

"Levi Ackerman." Theres attitude in your voice. "If I wanted to leave, I would. I have before - remember?" 

"I'm sorry I made you leave."

"Shhh." You pull Levi into your chest, letting him lean on you. You felt his eyelashes flutter on your skin as he closed his eyes. His breath is slow and you know he's listening to your heartbeat. He's always loved cuddling in your chest and feeling your beating heart. Levi starts to bury his face in your breasts, his hands traveling up to your waist.

"Hey," You giggle as Levi grabs your left breast with his large hand. "Levi, this isn't the right time to be-"

"Sh." Levi demanded. His fingers pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your plump breasts. They bounced as they were released from the captivity of your shirt and Levi is mesmerized. He brought his lips to your right tit, sucking on your skin roughly as he squeezed the other. You throw your head back at the contact. Levi has always loved your chest and he likes to take his time there when he can.

"This isn't a part of starting over." You breathe.

"We can start over tomorrow." Levi mumbled as he unclipped your bra without looking. His mouth attached to your nipple, sucking it gently. You feel the wetness in your pants already as Levi sucks, bites, and licks all over your tits. 

Levi sits you on the chair, his large hands trailing down your upper body to the buttons of your jeans. He's on his knees now as he pulls your pants off, throwing them across the room. "My favorites." Levi hums at the sight of your black lace panties. "Too bad they're coming off." Levi almost rips the panties off of you, revealing your soaked pussy. 

He marvels for a moment, watching your arousal leak from you. You throw your head back as your core starts to throb. "Levi-" He cuts you off by inserting his tongue inside you. You gasp as you feel his tongue exploring your pussy, finding your clit soon after. Levi wraps his hands around your thighs as he devours you, his lips squelching against your core. 

Levi wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently as he inserts two fingers into you. You bury your hands in his hair, pushing his face farther into you. You felt him smile as you pulled on his hair, something he's always loved. He pumped his fingers in and out of you quickly while his mouth was solely focused on your clit.

"I could eat this pussy all day." Levi hummed, the vibration from his words only adding to your pleasure. "This pretty little pussy."

"Levi." You moan, wrapping your legs around him as your toes begin to curl.

"I love when you moan my name." His fingers started to pump faster as your walls began to pulsate. "Can you come on my fingers, princess?" 

You nod silently as you feel the high quickly approaching. Your chest feels tight as the world begins to fade away, leaving only you and Levi. His tongue lapped your dripping arousal as you reached your high. Levi doesn't stop though, he keeps sucking on your clit until he wants to be done. You came on his fingers, his mouth - practically his entire face.

"Levi, I need you inside of me." You whine.

"You want my cock inside of you, my princess?"

"God, yes." You nod. Levi's mouth leaves your pussy and he picks you up and lays you on the couch gently. His shirt is off quickly, along with his belt and pants.

You watch his cock spring out of his pants. Every time you see it, you're mesmerized.

"Are you sure?"

"We'll start over tomorrow." You nod a Levi's arms are on either side of you. You feel the tip of his cock at your slit, easily sliding in due to your arousal. Levi lets out a husky moan as he feels your gummy walls wrapping around his cock.

"You were made for me." Levi starts thrusting into you. "This pussy fits me so perfectly."

"Baby, it's all yours." You stare into Levi's eyes. He presses his lips to yours roughly, leaving sloppy kisses as he thrusts inside you faster. You wrap your arms around his neck as he watches his length disappear inside of you, stretching your walls. You'll never get used to his size, no matter how many times you fuck.

"Princess, I need you to come again. Before me." Levi grunted as he slammed into you. He attaches his lips to the side of your neck, biting and sucking until your skin is purple. He then brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing it gently. 

You throw your head back, feeling your walls pulsate once again. Levi's thrusts start to become uneven as he feels you grip him, which means he's close.

"I'm not coming before you." Levi rubs circles on your clit. Your toes curl as Levi is almost overstimulating you - but that high comes back. 

"Levi." You practically yell as the hardest high of your life hits you. You see stars as Levi slams into you again and again. 

"Where should I come?" Levi whispered.

"Inside." You whisper in his ear, which causes him to lose all the control he had left. He coats your insides with him as he comes, gripping your hips tightly. Levi fills you up with his cum and somehow there is still more. 

Levi pulled out slowly and you whine at the now void. He pulls his pants on and grabbing a towel from his hallway closet and helping you clean up.

"So... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." You press your lips to his gently, letting your worries melt away.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

omg where do i even begin w love you x 3... honestly one of the best fics i've ever read ever and i went in thinking "oh haha a misandrist oc she just like me" and got served, spoon fed, auto refilled my drink, cleaned my mouth w a napkin, and tucked me into bed like I LOVE IT SM!!!!!

i love how u don't sway her one bit from her views and instead made her learn to trust and open up, i love how she's dripping in pure female rage and yet still keeps a stable head like she knows she went too far when she made beomgyu cry, i love how snarky and egotistical and prideful she is like she is everything i am but lowkey lmao

AND OMG I CANT EVER ENCAPSULATE HOW MUCH I WANT A MAN LIKE BEOMGYU!!!!

he is everything i long for in a man, i can't count on my fingers how many men, romantically or not, have lost patience in me and gave up when all i did was test them, and i cried a lil like beomgyu just exceeds all of my expectations for a man and he set a new bar for me now lmao.

seriously head over heels, from the first night they married, and him learning not to hurt her pride and ego lmao, him giving her space and letting her go back to him once she wants him, him taking her fear seriously once he realized how much it's affecting her, him very bluntly rejecting that girl, him being so nonchalant abt what everyone thinks of his masculinity even when he's challenged on it and losing he's not the slightest bit concerned abt his image, all he thought abt was how she probably wants a guy like yeonjun (which false lol)

he is so secure in his masculinity that all he thinks abt is how to please his wife... like please please omg send him my way i beg

oh also i love when she met her parents again and her father asks how are u doing my flower and she just replied deflowered IM FLOORED BEST LINE I'VE EVER READ

i usually don't write this long of a feedback but ur fic just tapped into my soul and now i get why ppl are hopeless romantics 🚶‍♀️

while i adore the fact that you loved the story so much i have to address a part of your message

"can't count on my fingers how many men, romantically or not, have lost patience in me and gave up when all i did was test them"

i don't think "testing" people is good or healthy from either men or women. playing with people to see if they will stay or not just creates heartbreak just like you've experienced. i think you've misunderstood the point i was making with the oc. it's not to say she is right about her misanderist views and that the worthy man will jump through hoops to prove himself to her. it's that oc, while valid in her distrust of men especially during that time period, is wrong to just write off every man as misogynistic and an asshole even when they've done nothing to deserve that judgement. i even hinted at it with how oc said her own father sold her off when in fact he didn't. he wanted to protect her because he knew when he dies other men will attempt to take her money.

but yes beomgyu in that fic was just so wonderful and lovely and sadly probably doesn't exist but we can dream 😪

[moemoemammon]

What about the boys with claws, fangs, traits from their animal avatars that they have and use? Instincts that they have? We know Mammon loves gold but does he hoard anything shiny? Are Levi and Asmo poisonous? I love any monster ideas!

Demon Instincts! (lowkey toxic)

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

pspspsps monsterf*ckers come get y'all juice

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer doesn't flaunt his abilities openly, but in a subtle way that draws attention to his perfection. But the only person he wants to attract is you.

He won't stoop so low as to use underhanded tactics, but his pride simply won't allow you to go around without properly acknowledging his brilliance.

He constantly calls you into his space to make sure you soak it all up, and it feeds his ego like no tomorrow. And if you say something about it? Bliss.

Something about his aura demands your attention. When he enters the room, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle and stand up, and it feels like the air becomes colder.

And that tone of his that whips any demon back in line? It's a literal power he uses over lesser demons. Sparingly, of course. But he's so intimidating that it's hard to even tell when he's using it- (He also finds out pretty quickly that it doesn't work on you >:( )

Mammon

You'd think Mammon was the inventor of the concept of hoarding, with all of his habits. He calls himself a collector, but acquiring more and more stuff for literal eons isn't exactly 'collecting' at that point.

Has an entire closet dedicated to stashing his stuff. I like to think Mammon's got some kinda spacial magic that lets him use that closet as a lil pocket dimension specifically for throwing things into

Anything that seems even remotely valuable is Mammon's go to. And 'valuable' means anything that's prized by ANYONE. If you've got a lucky rock, he'll be tempted to snag it. He sells most things for money, but stuff that's really precious are the things he keeps. Just wait till you find out how many of your things he's got-

Picture an endless sea of riches and junk, and only he can tell the difference between the two. Probably forgets it exists sometimes tho-

Also growls when angry (this is canon). Angry Mammon sitting on his sofa, surrounded by the spoils of his Akuzon splurging, growling at anyone who dares step close to his treasure trove... Oh yeah, MC's in that pile somewhere, too.

Levi

His self depreciation knows no bounds and he can't live up to the pedestal he's put his brothers on, but there IS one thing he knows he can do without much trouble:

Keep you in his room.

Now it's not like he's trapping you or anything, but Levi is a master manipulator with the way he puts himself down and coerces you into pitying him. Don't you wanna stay with him...? No, of course you wouldn't want to stay with a yucky otaku...

His brothers swear he's got a jealous glint in his eye every time he sees you anywhere else but his room. But all you see are his pleading reptilian eyes that almost suck you in... like they're begging you to pity him.

Quite literally toxic. Boy's got a slime fish man coat on his skin, and long exposure isn't too good for your fragile human body.

Satan

As the Avatar of Wrath, revenge is his favorite thing. It's the reason he harasses Lucifer so much, and whoever else has caught his negative attention. Also nobody can convince me that this man isn't a cat.

He can be HELLA cruel, and watches his enemies squirm. He lures them in with that false smile of his, just to make them wish they'd never met him.

Satan can barely resist the strong desire he has to torment and harass those around him, especially the ones he deems weaker.

A big part of his life is centered around keeping himself calm and collected, so he rarely has a chance to go apeshit. But there always that nagging desire to give in and cause mischief. Good thing it's mostly tame, huh?

I fully believe he's constantly on the verge of going into an untamable frenzy and that's why his brothers are kinda wary of him- 

Asmo

The snuggly, cute, and oh so affectionate Asmodeus tries to be more subtle about the way his instincts show. Specifically, his possessive side.

Naturally has a sweet scent, and it's quite literally addicting. It adds to his allure when paired with those demon eyes of his, but it's such a shame that it doesn't work on you! Boo..~

He's not shy when it comes to marking the object of his affection, and he LOVES leaving his scent behind. Any sort of sho of 'ownership' does it for him.

Why do you think he likes buying you clothes and sharing his perfumes with you? It's because seeing you walk around with something he gave you is a clear sign that he's been there.

He always wants you in his space, and vise versa. Asmo's desire to claim you completely rival the possessiveness Mammon has over you.

Beel

Beel doesn't always know his own strength, and this is especially the case when it comes to his bare instincts.

His strength matches his emotions, so when he's super happy? Crushing hugs. Angry as hell? You already know he destroys things in an fit of rage.

Satiating his hunger is one of the keys to his happiness, and he projects that onto you too. Have you eaten? You must be hungry. Come eat with him. He wants to make sure you're fed. Hungry hungry himbo

STRONG urge to protect the people he cares about. Like he'll go borderline feral if he even has an inkling that someone's in danger. And when he's in a mood, it's hard for you to pry yourself out of his big ol arms.

literally eats his enemies

Belphie

His clinginess knows no bounds and only intensifies when he's feeding into his instincts. He won't let you go anywhere, and either slowly follows you around, or holds onto you

It's pretty endearing from the outside looking in, but everything in Belphie wants to drag you down to his level, so he can always keep you close.

Do you REALLY need to go out today? Just do it tomorrow. Or use your pact and order someone else to do it.

His words have a drowsy effect that seeps into your head, and it's definitely a power that he may or may not abuse to get what he wants. But you're probably immune to it, being the wonderful MC and all.

Also has the habit of literally cocooning you in blankets so you can't leave his bed. It's like he's turning you into a personal comfort object.

[guardianspirits13]

The True Nature of Cho Sang-Woo

Spoilers Ahead

Just rewatched Squid Game ep 6 and was reminded of just how terrible of a person Sang-woo is. Like even putting aside the whole 'he did what he needed to survive' argument, from the beginning he was a terrible person to and it only becomes clearer with the progression of his arc so in my typical petty fashion, I'm going to point out every single time he was acting like a Narcissistic asshole or making backhanded comments towards Ali.

Episode 2

It was confirmed in an interview that Sang-woo only lent Ali money in the first place out of a sense of superiority and pity. Ali takes this at face value as an act of kindness, and this continues throughout his time in the series.

Episode 3

They reunite and talk about teaming up. This one is subtle, but when Gi-hun lists off games and Ali notes he doesn't know any of them, Sang-woo says "Children's games have simple rules. We'll help you if you don't know." It may seem like I'm interpreting this wrong but it makes sense in the context of other things he says.

I'm also going to note how later in the episode when Ali doesn't know the Korean word for 'circle', how Gi-hun just tells him the word and moves on, no questions asked. It's completely genuine with no tone of passive aggression. This is because Gi-hun isn't an asshole who needs his ego fed.

Episode 4

Sang-woo tells Ali to hide his hand that's missing fingers because "It make you look weak." I personally would be under the impression that somebody who's lived through and accident of that degree would be resilient and perhaps has experience keeping cool in dangerous conditions...

Episode 5

Sang-woo continues to ask Ali to stop referring to him as 'sir.' He doesn't want Ali to feel indebted to him as this is just another extension of his aforementioned superiority complex. However, this is the only scene where Sang-woo does seem to show some amount of genuine interest in Ali as a person and not just a valuable asset to the team.

Episode 6

There's a lot to unpack here. We'll start from the beginning, with Sang-woo saying "The games here either require strength or brains. If we team up, we can win against most teams." This can be very easily seen as a backhanded comment.

Then in walking through the set, he reassures Ali and tells him not to be nervous, that they can win together. He's again protecting his ego by projecting onto Ali- he must have forgotten that everyone who made it to this point had already survived three death games + a free-for-all battle royale; everyone there has the same experience. Thus it is incredibly presumptious of him- especially how he acts like he's somehow a superior or mentor to Ali and asks to be called by his first name despite obviously feeling superior to him.

Now we get to playing marbles themselves, and one of the most heartbreaking things about this is how much Ali does think of Sang-woo and how he sees him as a genuine and valuable friend. Presumably due to the language barrier, all of Sang-woo's comments went over his head. He is heasitant to start playing and even when he's winning he asks the guard to switch partners.

And then you can pinpoint the moment when Sang-woo becomes the biggest bastard of the entire show. It's when he, a narcissist, gets down onto his knees. It's almost mocking. He begins to fake cry, sobbing about how he doesn't want to die and how he has a family to take care of. His exact words are "If I die here my entire family will die too." There are SO many layers to this. The only family of Sang-woo's we're aware of are his mother, who cares about him but seems perfectly self-sufficient in her own job selling fish. Secondly, he KNOWS that Ali has a family. One that truly does depend on him. He has a wife and kid and an extended family way back in his own contry. Sang-woo uses a blatant lie to appeal to Ali in a way specific to his situation.

He then adds onto this, singing his own praises- "I gave you the bus fare", "I'm the reason you survived Tug-of-War", etc. It's like he can't help but keep up his holier-than-thou image even when begging for his life.

Another very important point that a lot of people overlook is how heasitant Ali initially is to agree to Sang-woo's plan. Even though Sang-woo has been praised as the most intelligent man in their group, Ali's trust is not blind. It's built upon their previous interactions. This also makes me wonder if Ali might've proved to have more valuable input if Sang-woo wasn't always seizing control and talking down to him.

The thing that makes Ali finally break and give in to his request is watching a man being shot right in front of them. Sang-woo asks if he wants to do that to him. Again, the words he chooses are cunning and manipulative. He phrases it like it would be Ali's own doing if he was killed, despite the game of chance.

This connects back to my last post, about Ali not being able to give up his humanity fot the sake of the games. I'm not sure he even truly believed that they could both win, but he may have wanted to believe that because he couldn't accept either alternative. He gives the impression that he is trying to convince himself that it will work, that Sang-woo is smart, and why someone who has been nothing but good to him thus far lead him astray.

Even if Ali survived, the emotional impact of the game and his role in a friend's death would have destroyed him anyway. Which brings me to my last point as to why Sang-woo is unforgiveable- the lack of guilt. How calmly he handed over the marbles to the guard and explained why it should count with the rules, how he didn't turn around when Ali was calling his name, and how he barely flinched when he hears the gunshot. The way he moves on, how quickly he seems to forget. It's unsettling. Perhaps the guilt does get to him in the end, but he'd rather escape it than face it head on. In the end, his death is not in Ali's hands, or Gi-hun's, but his own. Just as his deceit and betrayal and survival was.

On my first watchthrough I was of the genuine belief that they were friends, but I realize now that Ali's kindness and optimism obscured Sang-woo's ulterior motives from the start, and made him seem like a better person by proxy, which is perhaps why the betrayal hurts so much upon the first viewing. After looking back on it, however, I only feel rage.

Thank you for reading! Again, I have a lot of thoughts. Feel free to add your take as well, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

[iridiscent-aesthetics]

I just saw your headcanon of az being jealous of gwyn and eris, may I suggest the opposite? gwyn being jealous of az and eris talking.

Oh I LOVE this one! Might be a tad bit tricky but I'm soo very up for it! Thank you @aelingalathyniusrailme for SUCH a great idea!

Gwyn would've found this entertaining. IF it wasn't Azriel there. She was aware of their hatred. Aware that they were literally always at each others throats. But she couldn't help but fume with jealousy while watching them in the training ring take on each other. Blow to blow, matching at each stride. She was watching Eris and Az spar. It began with a heated argument leading to the Autumn court heir challenging the Shadowsinger to spar. And now here they were, since a straight of 15 minutes, sparring. Neither nowhere close to yielding. Gwyn was cursing the redheaded male with all she had for choosing sparring instead of dueling. The absence of the weapons as a bridge and the proximity of their sweaty bodies was too much, nor did it help that neither had a shirt on. The angst, the tension built between them; it seemed straight out of one of her smutty romance books. Gwyn wasn't liking this one bit. "Come on guys, We get it! You're strong and bold. You're Fearless males! There. fed your bloated male egos. Now stop. would you?!" She yelled, throwing her hands in the air frustrated. "Let them be Gwyn, this is far more entertaining than having to listen them arguing to the point of biting each others heads off." Cassian stood besides her crossing his arms and watching them with a hint of curiosity as to who would win. Gwyn bet her money on Az because she would have it no other way, but as much as she hated to admit, Eris was just as good. "Yeah Gwyn. Besides, two of the hottest males fighting, now that's a sight to sore eyes. Enjoy the show!" Nesta chimed in elbowing her, eyeing Cass as he put his hand to his heart and feigned a dramatic expression of pain. Nesta rolled her eyes. "Oh I'll give you a good show Ness." He said scooping her in his arms and took to the sky. Newly mated idiots, couldn't stay away for a minute. Gwyn looked back to the ring and groaned "Well at least take a break!" "Okay!" Yelled Az before delivering a good blow right to Eris's jaw. "Break." There. That should teach the male a lesson for getting all cocky and getting Az worked up. "Going easy on me Shadowsinger?" Eris said rubbing his jaw. Mother! this male's audacity was insufferable! "Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, your highness." Az smirked back. Gwyneth clenched her fist. Pretty face?! What in all of Prythian made Az think Eris was pretty! Did he find him attractive? Was he into males? Eris was beyond fine, he was VERY attractive. A strong jaw and sharp eyes with a strong intensity. The male was hot . quite literally. He would make a fit equal to Az. His lethal darkness and Eris's burning fire. She shook her head, No. She was over thinking, Az hated Eris; old bad blood. There was no way he'd fall for him. But she'd make sure of it. Az walked out of the training pit and straight to her, sweat dripping off him. Gwyn couldn't tear her eyes off him. "Enjoying the show Berdara?" Came a teasing Azriels' voice. "Mhmm." She didn't even want to deny it, let him know she was attracted to him. About time it got through that dense head of the Night Court's infamous Spymaster. "Hey Az..., what's your type?" She shot him the question looking everywhere but him. He shot his head to her. "What?" She finally met his gaze. "I'm asking you what kind of people you're attracted to Shadowsinger!" Gwyn was certain her face was as red as her hair now. He looked into her eyes for a hard moment before answering in a low voice. "Redheads. Stubborn ones with a fiery attitude at that. Bonus if they're competitive." He was still looking straight into her eyes, with a small smirk, tilting his head aside as if waiting for her expression, while his shadows were dancing around her in excitement. Gwyn's jaw almost dropped. Along with her heart as it fell to her shoe. She was right. Of course. Of course he was attracted to fucking Eris. Redhead, stubborn, fiery attitude AND competitive. Should've added fire d*ck to the list. "Right." She'd say nothing else. She looked away. "Gwyn?" Came his voice again. Her heart ached as she looked over

to Azriel's concerned face, trying to keep her sorrow reeled in within her. His shadows were frantically jumping around them. "Is everything alright, why'd you ask?" She gave him her best smile. "Yes of course." she waved it off. " just curious." He didn't seem convinced at the slightest but didn't push as he held up a water bottle and drank. Gwyn couldn't stop herself then, She was still his friend, He deserved to be happy, even if not with her. She'd help him pursue Eris. Even if the male would never deserve Az. "So I take it you're into males?" Az choked on the water he was drinking. "What?" He croaked out. Gwyn rose an eyebrow. "Males Shadowsinger, the ones that usually have a d*ck and insufferable egos but pea sized brains?" Azriel looked amused. "You forget that I'm a male too priestess." "Didn't." She muttered and leveled him with a bored stare. "Answer the question Spymaster." Az looked away, his gaze probably searching for Eris. "I've had male lovers in the past. But I've never felt a strong attraction, especially romantic attraction to them over five centuries. Pretty sure nothing's changed now." "Then Eris- how, He's an exception?" Azriel looked at her with a bewildered expression eyes widened. "Eris? What-why, what about him Gwyn?" Gwyn rolled her eyes, hands on her hips, looking down at him. "Quit the puppy eyes act Az. It fine admitting you're attracted to Eris, he's okayish. You'd look good together I guess. Enemies to Lovers arc, angsty slow burn romance,," she shrugged nonchalantly even though she was fuming inside. Az's shadows dropped. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Should he laugh, should he be hurt, or angry maybe? Eris? Of all people in Prythian, HIM? Gwyn though he was attracted to THAT male? "Gwyneth." He started in an emotionless tone face solemn, "What the actual fuck led you to THAT conclusion?" "Oh please. It was evident, for all that being Spymaster and stuff, you sure are obvious about your crushes. I mean for starts, you HATE him, or at least ACT like you do. That's always the first step to enemies to lovers. And then you guys are ALWAYS bantering! Score 2. And did you SEE that tension while you were sparring? AND Flirting with Eris? Its clear as day 'Mr. I show No Emotion'. And Redheads? Seriously Az, could you have even tried and been any more subtle? Az looked at her for a dead half a minute and then burst out laughing so hard that everyone in the training arena were now staring at them in pure shock to see the infamous Spymaster laughing his ass off. Az looked at her, trying to stop laughing, but one look at her angry face and he burst out in fits all over again. Gwyn kicked him good and hard in the knee. "Ouch!" He yelled, not stopped laughing as he held his knee. "Gwyn- I oh Cauldron. Wait." He heaved in and out. "Good shot Berdara." He said with a hint of pride, still chuckling. Gwyn kicked him again. "Nice try deflecting Spymaster." Az shook his head rapidly, still trying to catch his breath. He calmed down and looked at her. "Gwyneth Berdara. My darling. You thought I was attracted to Eris?" He started laughing again. Gwyn grew nervous, "You're not? But you said Redhead, Stubborn, Fiery attitude, Competitive. Eris is all that." "Well I'm not attracted to Eris. AT ALL. Please don't ever say or even think of that again. Please. For the sake of my sanity." Gwyn sighed in relief. "Sorry, I assumed Wrong." But then she tensed again. "But then, if not Eris, then..." She trailed off. If he wasn't attracted to Eris, then who else was it? Redheads? Lucien? Az stood up and held her arms. "Gwyn. Gwyn look at me." She looked up at him with weary eyes. "Can you think of a better Redhead? A stubborn, competitive, fierce one? She's fearless and strong." Gwyn scrunched her nose in thought. A she, was it Vassa? He flicked her nose. "She's a Valkyrie Gwyn." A Valkyrie? There weren't many new ones other than her, Emerie and Nesta, only about two or three. She looked around to see if there were any redheads in them. Az rubbed his hands on his face. "Mother's sake Gwyn,

its YOU." Her eyes shot to his in disbelief. He liked HER? "I- you, me?" She pointed a finger to herself. "You like me?" Azriel was furiously blushing red, he rubbed the back of his neck giving her a sided grin. "Yeah...that's what I'm saying..." Gwyn thought she was going to burst with all the emotions. "I-" Before she could say anything else Eris walked up to them. "Break over yet Shadowsinger?" He smirked. Gwyn growled, literally growled and stepped in front of Az. "Stay away from him Eris, find someone else to play fight. If I see you anywhere near him or talking to him, I swear to the mother, I will rip your throat out." Eris took a step back at her promised violence. "Hiding behind a female, Scared of losing Spymaster?" Gwyn took a step at him, she was certain she'd show Eris hell today. "Leave us alone Eris. I've scored my best win today." He said, looking at Gwyn fondly and putting a hand on her shoulder. Eris snorted and left muttering something to himself. "So..., are we going to talk about how adorable you are when you're jealous and angry? Especially over Eris?" Az teased her with a huge grin and happy eyes "I have no idea what you're talking about." Gwyn shrugged in charming irreverence. His gaze darkened as he looked into her ocean eyes, "You never finished what you were saying before asshole Eris butted in?" Gwyn gave him a soft smile before reaching up to his collar and pulling him down so she could kiss him. She pecked his lips once slightly before letting go and grinning at him while she walked away, leaving Az to process what happened and blush furiously like a teenager. He watched Gwyn walk away in victory. Mother, this female never failed to amaze him, And he was certain that this wouldn't be the last time. For the first time in five centuries, Az found hope. Found himself looking forward for the next day, and the rest of his life. Something sparked in his chest at the thought, A smile unconciously made way to his lips, like every time he thought of Gwyn; and this time, he didnt make to erase it. He'd let it for the world to see, the happiness Gwyneth Berdara brought to his life.

It's not about them talking exactly, but this seemed more fun to write😅

I tried! Not sure if it was good enough, but I've never really tried writing from Gwyn's POV.

Feedback, suggestions and other ideas always welcome!

[blessednereid]

Love and Monopoly

 Love and Monopoly

Milton Greasley x Reader, 

Fandom: TVDU/Legacies 

Dialogue Prompts: “Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!” and "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Fun Take on Angsty Prompts

Warning: Cursing, Drinking, Kissing, Necking, Mentions of food, brief mentions of blood (bunny blood for vamps), Monopoly

A/N: Someone please open my messages and give me a crash course on how to write a makeout scene I can’t do it, OMFH ಥ‿ಥ

Word Count: 2760

You and Milton Greasley had been dating for 5 years. 

You met during your shared time together at Salvatore Boarding School. You were a witch who helped MG calm down whenever he went into a ripper mode. You had used spells to lower his bloodlust. You even made the bunny blood that the school had fed vampires taste as close to human blood as you could without triggering a negative response. 

 After you all graduated, The Super Squad all rented a house in Mystic Falls, and you were all roommates. The house had 5 bedrooms, one for you and MG, one for Lizzie, one for Josie, one for Hope, and one for Kaleb. However, since Josie and Hope began dating, they had moved into the tribrid's room, so now the empty space was more of a game room. There were board games and consoles in the closet, a pool table, and a regular round glass table surrounded by armchairs where you all could sit and play games. 

Tonight was your bi-weekly game night, and you all had decided to play monopoly. Though it was a unanimous decision, you knew it could take days to finish. You were all very competitive, and none of you would go down without a fight. This is why, to finish faster, you decided to have a team game of monopoly.

On the day of, everyone had started going shopping for the concessions for the event. Trays of assorted cookies, hors-doeuvres, sandwich platters, as well as multiple different fruit juices were bought and set on a foldable table in the game room. 

As you were setting and arranging everything on the table, your wonderful boyfriend came around to help you. 

"Don't worry, love, I got it," you chuckled. "I am much capable of setting a party table on my own."

"C'mon, you make me feel like I'm not good enough to do simple things, babe," he laughed with you, though his words triggered something in your brain.

"Oh yeah?" you quipped. "These are some pictures from the last time you set the table for dinner…"

In the photo, the table linen was frowned up, the forks were out of place, some placements didn't even have certain utensils. The plates were pushed to the center, chairs closer to the edge than the food was.

"Oh..." he giggled lifelessly.

"Now you see why you don't use super speed to set up something like that?"

"I mean, I don't think it's the super speed, darling. I was simply being blinded by your beauty that day."

 Your laugh thundered in the room. "Go away MG, I'm not letting you win today!"

"Aw dammit! Alright, love, I'll let you get back to your project," he stated before he walked out of the room.

--Meanwhile--

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

The Saltzman twin had been brushing her hair in the mirror, getting ready for the game night later.

"You look gorgeous, so stop taking out every strand of your hair with this damn brush," Hope stated before yanking the brush out of the younger girls' hand. 

Josie embraced Hope in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hope."

~-~-~

"Alright, everyone. Welcome to 'The Super Squad Bi-Weekly Game Night.' I'm your host, Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." All of the friends burst out laughing. "Tough crowd, I see I see. Well, let's move on with the game, shall we?"

"First up introducing, He's the founder, he's the mediator, He is… MILTON GREASLEY!!"

They all clapped and cheered for MG before you moved on.

"Next up, She's the brain, she's the brawn. She is the tribrid, and she's got it going on, Hope Mikaelson!!"

Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room. 

You continued through all of your friends.

"The realistic, the cynic, the man with raps for days… Kaleb Hawkins!!"

"The sweet, the kind, but she can fuck up your mind, Josie Salvatore!!" 

"She's sarcastic, totally bombastic, Lizzie Saltzman everybody!!"

"And ME! Could you tell I was trying to sound like those game show hosts everybody? No? Well, I was. Anyways young ones-" You wore a giant grin to emphasize the corniness of what you were saying before continuing.

"Alright, I'm dropping the act. It's too hard, jeez!" They all laughed at your antics. "I hope you guys are laughing with me and not at me."

You explained the rules for the game of teams.

“Here’s the way it goes, each player has the same amount of money they would have in a regular game of monopoly. However, every team only has one token, teams must make agreements on all purchases, trades, and decisions. Teams must take turns rolling the dice, and one team member must always be present at the board.” 

“Alright.��

“Sounds easy”

“Let’s play!”

You stared at them dumbfounded. “I memorized and recited all that without stumbling on my words, and all I get is ‘sounds easy’?”

MG stood to comfort you. 

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing your shoulders lightly before pulling away. You scoffed.

“Alright then, let’s play. In this hat, I have slips of paper with all of your names, but first, in this bucket are sticks with numbers that will determine the order of selection. Step forward.”

They all stepped forward and grasped the popsicle sticks prior to stepping away from the bucket. 

"Who has number 1?"

"Oh, I do!" Lizzie stepped forward and drew a slip of paper from the hat.

"Kaleb"

She and Kaleb sat back down at the table. 

"Number 2?" 

Hope stepped forward. 

"MG"

They also went to go sit down beside Lizzie and Kaleb.

"That leaves me and you, Jo," you stated happily. Jo and yourself had one of the best team duos. In school, you two would be partnered up for projects often. With that experience of communication, you were sure to win. 

You joined the rest of your friends at the table. Lizzie and Kaleb named their team, Team Siphon Vamp. Hope and MG had been Team 3 in 2, and you and Josie were the 'Twitches from two different misuses.' 

"Alright, before the token selection, I must announce the prize of the game.

"The winners of the game will receive a dish duty pass for the rest of the week." Cheers louder than before erupted in the room.

"Lettuce commence!" The silence in the room was lethally quiet, and you could quite literally hear crickets. "Get it? Because lettuce sounds like let us?"

"It's ok, babe, let's just play," MG said before pulling you down. You grumped before deciding with Josie on the Penguin. Hope and MG had picked the dog, and Lizzie and Kaleb had chosen the dinosaur. 

You, acting as the banker, dished out the money to all the players, and you commenced the game. 

Lizzie and Kaleb went first. Lizzie rolled the dice, rolled 7, and landed on a chance card, which told her to advance to the nearest railroad, and they bought it. Hope and MG went next.

MG rolled a 5 and landed directly on Team Siphon Vamp's freshly purchased railroad, M100 out of their pocket already.

"Ooooh… MG…. Honey, you're losing money faster than you did when that PS5 came out, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, ok! I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

You were taunting him. "You sure about that, love?"

"Yep!"

"You didn't even try to "kick my ass" last night, darling," you smirked.

Oohs erupted from your friends, and it was evident you knocked his ego down a peg.

At last, it was your team's turn. You and Josie each took one die in your hands and rolled it. You had landed a 6 and a 4, which landed you a visit to jail.

"Look who's losing now! You're literally in jail, babe," Hope teased Josie. 

"Oh, whatever. Focus more on your lives-"

"-And less on ours!" your duo quipped. 

Lizzie protested to this. "Hey hey hey!! That is my twin! Only I get to finish her sentences!"

You all laughed at this but continued your game.

Almost 15 rounds later, and everyone had a fair standing in the game. 

Team Siphon Vamp had had 2 monopolies, on the railroads and on the pink properties. 

Hope and MG had 3 already, the dark blue properties, the brown, and utilities. They also had 2 greens cards, the other being in the hands of you and Josie, as well as 1 red card that was being aimed for by you and Josie, who had the other 2 properties. 

You guys also had monopolies on the yellow and orange properties. If you got the red card of Kentucky Avenue, you would be unstoppable. 

 "Baby," you called out. 

"Yes, love?"

"I'll give you the other green for the red," you and Josie smiled.

"That's not fair babe, you'll own the corner," he protested.

"But the green is worth more. Please?" you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Before he could utter another word, Josie spoke. 

"We'll give you M100, and your first landing on any one of our properties will be free of rent."

Hope spoke up. "Sounds good to me!"

"Hell no! You're gonna have to do something way better than that before you fool this genius."

You whined.

"Fine, I'll give you one of my signatures back walks," you leveraged, knowing full well he couldn't resist. "C'mon, baby, I know how much your back has been hurting."

He agreed reluctantly. "Fine, but it better be worth it!"

Team Twitches cheered. 

"Wait, what about us! We'll be demolished, you selfish weirdos." This was true. Lizzie and Kaleb were low on cash, they had rushed too fast to place houses, and now they were paying the price.

"Tough luck!" Hope and Josie chorused.

 Soon, it had been as you all thought.  Kaleb and Lizzie were in debt to Hope and MG. They had landed on Boardwalk Avenue, and it had 3 hotels on it, so they owed them M6000, M6000 they did not have.

Soon, they ended up relinquishing all their properties back to the bank for auction to pay off Hope and MG, gave them the rest of their money, and had to leave the game.

 With 2 full monopolies from Lizzie and Kaleb, along with the last green property they needed, they had successfully turned the game around. Now it was Josie and you who were losing. 

You all decided at this point to split the teams. Each team dividing both the cash and the monopolies equally, and two more pieces were added to the board, on the same spots as their former teammates, and you resumed.

Josie was soon knocked out due to MG within 5 rounds, and Hope was quick to crumble under your might, two turn-loops after that. They joined Lizzie and Kaleb at the pool table. They were now drinking beers since they no longer needed to be sober.

Soon it was just you and MG left in the game. 

MG leaned forward closer to you while you were deciding what to do with your turn.

"You know what you could do, darling?" He whispered provocatively in your ear. "Give in."

You pushed him away. You were not going to lose to MG and his self-righteous ego that night. 

"Shut up."

"Give in, baby. I know you want to."

"Shut up, Milton."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" He yelled. "No need to get hostile!"

You decided you hadn't wanted to place any more houses, well, you couldn't at the moment. You rolled the dice but were in for a bitter-sweet realization.

You had been ready to pay an M100 luxury tax fee before you realized you landed on Boardwalk, one of the monopolies Hope had let MG keep in the split. MG had only since put 2 more hotels on it, and the price was now M10,000

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

Soon, your friends rushed over to where you two sat and began cackling, all except Josie, who was still hoping her former teammate would avenge her.

"Babe.."

You began selling your hotels and houses back to the bank, but it still wasn't enough. You sold your properties and gave the rest of your money to MG, but you still owed a few hundred Monopoly dollars. 

"Fuck!"

 He kissed your cheek, much to your dismay, and happily accepted his victory. 

~-~-~

It had been almost 2 weeks, and you were still giving MG the silent treatment. He had been gloating about his win for the entire night, and you were livid.

You knew he didn't deserve it, but you didn't think you deserved to lose either. 

You were staring at the ceiling. You had just woken up, and MG wasn't beside you. 

You had hated those moments. No matter how mad you were at MG,  you hated when you woke up, and he wasn't beside you. 

After all, you guys had been through so much, and you were always worried that he would die abruptly and leave you. Even after the threat was over, you still felt this way.

After a few minutes, MG had come into the room, Kaleb at his side. Kaleb looked bored, and his face said all you needed to know... he didn't want to be there. 

He was carrying a pot of pink hydrangeas in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He placed both on the nightstand beside you, disappearing for a short while, before coming back with a giant fruit bouquet in his hands. He set it on the nightstand as well before exiting the room and closing the door.

MG had carried a platter of all your favorite foods. Eggs, just the way you liked them, pancakes, hash browns, and your favorite flavor of yogurt. He had also gone ahead and made a smoothie bowl with your favorite fruits. Berries and banana chips littered the surface of it. 

He placed the platter on the portable desk you had in your room for breakfast and bed and set it down, just above your lap. He then went to the mini-fridge in your room and got all the ingredients he needed to make your coffee just the way you liked it as well as a glass to pour it in.

"I'm sorry for bragging," he apologized. "I know how much you like to win, and it was very insensitive of me." He looked like he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the reason he was apologizing for was. You turned your eyes away from him and the delicious breakfast he made.

"But baby, I miss you."

He walked over to you. "Please talk to me!"

He started trailing kisses on your forehead, down to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth inside, something you had taught him. He knew exactly how to make you forgive him, and he was using every technique he had learned over the years.

"Please?" He whined, and you could see his pouty eyes without looking. 

He sucked on your collarbone for a while and left a dark mark. Then he moved to the sensitive spot under your ear. 

You moaned slightly, but he could hear it, even without his vampire hearing. 

He pulled away, causing you to frown and whine. 

"MG…" you complained. "That's not fair."

"So you're talking to me now?"

You looked away, you had slipped up, but you told yourself that would be the last time.

You simply ignored him and started to eat your breakfast.

He walked back towards you and began nibbling on your ear.  You threw your head back in pleasure. 

"Look at me, darling." 

He reached his nimble fingers out to your face and trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I said I'm sorry, and I really, really miss my girlfriend. I made you a nice breakfast, and I've let you pick the movie every night since monopoly. What more do you want?"

You moved the tray of food to the side of you and stared at him indignantly. 

"I wanted my boyfriend to not be an egotistical asshole. I thought I was dating MG the vampire, not Jed the werewolf."

"I'm sorry... What can I do to make it up to you, love?"

"Let me out of that back walk favor?"

He scrunched up his face in horror. "That was part of our deal."

"Technically, you're not even supposed to be able to make outside game deals in monopoly, so you could let me out if you wanted to."

"Fine." 

"Yay! Those hurt. They're so energy draining."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can," you smiled.

[youwontlikethisblog]

You Betrayed Me!

Armando finds out that Betty's "boyfriend" gave her money to invite everyone in her friend group to have lunch.

He nears Patty, Marcela, and Hugo cackling at the expense of Betty, as always, and smiling he asks what they're laughing about, that he too wants to laugh.

"We're talking about Betty's boyfriend." Marcela says calming down from her laugher and Armando's huge smile falls and he displays a pissed off expression. "Ah you don't know she has a boyfriend?" she chuckles.

"Nono I didn't but I'm not interested in the personal life of Beatriz. Who is he?" now his voice is low. However you can tell he is angry but controlling himself.

"I think she doesn't even know it herself." Patty jokes.

"But I am dying to know who he is 'cause that type of species, of people, we need to study. We should stick them in a research laboratory with cameras and when he gets close to give her a kiss he'd grab her by the ears and(proceeds to pucker his lips as if he were sucking in air) all drooling." Hugo insults and laughs.

"Ah! No! I can't imagine anyone could have the balls to kiss her." Marcela laughs and covers her face in disgust.

"Right! Up until now I was convinced that the only thing that could kiss her would be a bat." Patty says.

"Aside from that, the man ia a millionaire!"

Armando turns to look at Marcela and then at Patty.

"Millionaire no. Multi-millionaire. He lent [Betty] money so she could take her friends out to eat to the Corrientazo.(Proceeds to mock Sofia's voice and naming the menu)"

"With so much trickery she managed to get a multi-millionaire. Does she think we're all stupid? As stupid as the supposed multi-millionaire boyfriend she got?" Mean girl cackle.

Armando mouths the 'multi-millionaire" part.

All three of the mean girls laugh or cackle like wenches.

"What's wrong? Ah it's because in front of Armando you can't talk bad about Beatriz."

"Ah Armando one thing, why don't you tell that moscorrofio to introduce you to her rich boyfriend that way you can make business with him and get money to run me my check."

"Ha-ha-ha. You're all super funny today. "

"See he doesn't even believe it that Beatriz found a rich boyfriend"

Hugo complains about not getting paid so bla bla bla.

The camera then switches to Armando being centered, head down, staring ahead under his brows, nostrils flared, lips tight, and his classic hand passing lightly over his hair as we hear a menacing voice:

"I'm going to kill Beatriz Pinzón Solano."

One thing is for sure here: Armando's ego is being dragged through the mud.

The arrows thrown at Betty end up hitting him as he is the one that has the balls to kiss(in his imagination AA) her.

As they insult, ridicule, and make fun of Betty and her boyfriend Armando is getting a taste of what he's afraid of. The ridicule and social embarrassment he'd face if he were to ever be seen with Betty as his girlfriend out in public. His reputation is important to him and he is afraid of being laughed at and he's now seeing it. He is witnessing first hand what he knows people in his social circle will say behind his back and Betty's.

Now it does upset him and he is angry that Betty has a boyfriend as everytime he hears that he has the exact same expression: Anger disguised as disinterest.

When Patty mentions that he[Nic] is a multi-millionaire his anger now centers in disbelief and betrayal.

Swiftly he turns to Hugo and with a smile on his face until he hears again "multi-millionaire" and he turns to Marcela, mouths the words and stares at her.

The phrase that comes to mind is "stomach tied in knots." but not in a good way. He looks tense, pissed off, hurt, and scared.

All these emotions center around Betty and her "boyfriend". Why would Armando feel betrayed? Why does he feel hurt? Why is he pissed off? Especially more when money is mentioned?

Money for men is power. The more you have the better you are. It's seen as a sign of being untouchable, stronger, more important, and better than everyone else.

Men use money to boost their ego and feel better about themselves. So for him to hear that Betty's boyfriend is a multi-millionaire is a kick to his ego, but also his fear that Nicolas is turning Betty against him and by consequences will take away his money therefore it would make Nicolas Mora better than him.

Now Betty's friends suck.

They constantly use her to make fun of Patty. They never respect her privacy or her wishes to maintain her personal life secret from others in Eco Moda and are always so nosy in her business.

They care more about their ego than they do about Betty's wishes or feelings.

Even Bertha tells Betty that she can't deny them the pleasure of rubbing it in Patty's face that Betty has a boyfriend.

The only ones that show some kind of redemption are Mariana, Aura Maria, and at times Inesita.

Because of them the hostility of Armando and his distrust of Nicolas is fed. As they constantly spread false information and use Betty's intimacy as a pawn without caring about the consequences. They suck.

Betty leaves a lollipop on Armando's desk.

As Armando enters his office we can see the lollipop on his desk.

Why does such a simple object hold such meaning in this scene?

Betty exits her office.

"Did you eat well?"She speaks in a peaceful tone.

"Mhmm" he avoids her.

"Sir, I need you to sign this paper for the legalization of the money Terra Moda paid to your family." Armand snatches the paper from her hand to sign and then throws it at her. "Thank you." Betty looks at the paper. "I have some really good news! Regarding the sells report and with the advances that Mr. Mario Calderon managed to get we are able to cover the overdraft with the bank and pay everyone tomorrow."

Armando slowly looks up at Betty, under his brows he gives her a dead stare. "What joy, no? Beatriz." he says sarcastically.

Confused Betty stops smiling and stands up.

"I knew you'd like the news." she walks towards her office and then returns " Sir may I ask you a question?"

"Mhm."

"Are you upset with me?" Armando, again slowly looks up at her.

"If i'm upset with you?" He laces his fingers in front of him, head tilted towards her, eyes dead focused on her. "No." he rest his elbow on his desk while he makes his hand into a fist, moves his right arm to rest behind him on his chair. "I'm not upset with you, Beatriz." He blinks rapidly. "It doesn't upset me at all for you to go around the halls of Eco Moda to shout to the four winds that you've got a rich boyfriend. That doesn't bother me." he is angry. Now he already discussed the situation with the Love Guru himself and they drew the conclusion that Betty was referring to Nicolas and Armando. We know that he was jealous, both economically and emotionally.

"Me?"

He stands up quickly, picks up the lollipop and starts to gesture pointing at himself and moving his hands in the air in front of him. "No! Me! Me! Beatriz you said you have a rich boyfriend." he leans on his desk towards Betty and hisses at her. "You told Patricia."

"I haven't said anything, Sir."

"No. I said it. " He walks from behind his desk to stand behind Betty. "Since I'm the one with a rich boyfriend! Beatriz you're lying to me. "He shakes the lollipop in the air. "and what pisses me off the most are lies. You did tell Patricia Fernandez in the hall that you have a rich boyfriend and I asked you a favor, to please not tell anyone about this-this-what we have, our relationship, yes. "he jerks to see behind him. "that it wasn't going to leave the both of us, right. You started talking about it. You tricked me! You betrayed me! You betrayed me, Dammit! You Betrayed me!" he angrily throws the lollipop onto the floor.

"Sir, I swear to you by the most sacred thing in my life that I didn't say anything. Allow me to explain. We[the secs.] were all waiting for the elevator and I told them I'd invite(lunch would be on her) out to eat because they're really low on money and I had taken out sixty thousand pesos from the petty cash fund to help them. In that moment Patricia showed up and overheard the conversation and started attacking me, asking where I had gotten the money, as if insinuating that I had stolen it from Eco Moda. So then they, to defend me, started to yell at her that I didn't have any need to have stolen that money and that I earn a really good salary and am a really good administrator and outside of that, Bertha said that I have a rich boyfriend but I've already explained, Sir, that she is always nagging me about Nicolas Mora."

"It's cause you told them you are committed or in a relationship with Nicolas Mora. Or what's going on, Beatriz?"

"Um nonono, Sir, how do you draw that conclusion? I haven't said any of that. Bertha said that to mortify Patricia but again, I repeat, I don't have anything with Nicolas Mora, no more than a friendly and work related relationship" she smiles nervously.

Armando stands up from his desk and walks behind it.

"Look Betty this isn't right. I don't like for people to be making assumptions or speculating. You shouldn't have said that, neither Bertha or anyone else. I don't want what we have to be jeopardized or that there's a rich boyfriend around. I don't like that, understand me."

"Yes sir. I talked to them already and asked them to not bother me about Nicolas Mora and they'll do it. Besides I don't have anything with Nicolas. In any case I want you to excuse me because of all of this and I want us to stand clear that I have word and I'll die before I don't fulfil it. I'm never going to betray you, Mister. I am incapable of breaking something so sacred to me. Do you believe me, Sir?"

"Yes, I believe you."

"It just that for me it's really important that you believe me."

"Yes I believe you."

"Do you swear?"

"I swear, swear, swear. I believe you, I swear!"

"Thank you, sir."

This was a heavy scene.

Armando is furious. He can't sit or stand still. This isn't for show. He truthfully feels this.

Betty is nervous and scared. She stands still, only moving when Armando nears her.

The lollipop actually plays a huge role here. It is a symbol of Betty's affection(just like chocolate bar that he shared with Mario). When Armando hastily picks it up, he is holding her affection. As he waves it in the air he is questioning it. As he throws it on the floor he is discarding it.

This represents Armando's furry and how quickly he is to react to it. He doesn't pay attention to consequence or details. He is solely focused on his own pain and yes, he is in pain.

As he repeats over and over again that Betty betrayed him.

Why does he feel betrayed? He talked this out with Mario and they both drew the conclusion that Betty was probably talking about him[Armando](the rich boyfriend). However Armando still feels betrayed.

Let's take a few steps back and break this down to simple actions.

Betty arrives to Eco Moda. She leaves a chocolate bar for Armando on his desk.

Mario and Armando have a briefing where Armando doesn't talk about his feelings and when he does Mario doesn't take him serious so he shuts off and gets angry at him instead.

Betty and him talk. He talks to her sweetly.

Betty's friends use her to make Patricia jealous.

Patricia, Marcela, and Hugo make fun of Betty and insult her and her "boyfriend" while Armando watches and witnesses first hand his biggest fear that keeps him in denial; public humiliation and people talking bad about him behind his back. His ego is bruised.

Mario and Armando discuss this new tabloid. Mario then mocks him by asking if he's jealous. Armando refrains and tells him to get serious.

Betty arrives back to Eco Moda and places a green lollipop on his desk.

Armando arrives to Eco Moda and enters his office.

Betty hands him a paper to sign. He pulls it out of her hand and then throws it at her. He then proceeds to yell(whisper but yelling at the sametime) at her and like a lion paces in his symbolic cage of feelings.

At the peak of this he expresses his true feelings.

Betrayal.

Once again Armando feels bamboozled.

At the start of the day Betty's gift represented hope. It gave him the understanding that things were going well and all of a sudden he finds out that she is "talking" about her rich boyfriend[Nic] to everyone. This causes him to want to murder her. Now when he talks to Mario they conclude that Betty possibly wasn't talking about Nicolas but instead him, Armando. His feeling of betrayal moved from feeling jealousy to now feeling like he can't trust her.

To some degree, not only because he doesn't want to face public humiliation or Marcela finding out about them, Armando does want to continue this relationship with her as it means he removes Nicolas from her life and you know what that means to him. So he does want to keep it tight lid.

However Armando has a problem, he can't control his rage. He can keep himself composed in front of people he doesn't want to give a bad impression to but with people he sees every day he has no problem exploding on them. This is the one emotion he is never shy to show.

Now as he stares at Betty, the one who he has trusted so much, as a potential liar, someone who could have broken his trust, he feels deep anger and hurt. He believes that she isn't respecting his wishes and worst of all playing him.

Her gift now though still represents her affection, is something he no longers cares for in his furry or how he treats it.

As she explain her side of the story he inspects her. He is suspicious and watching her closely.

Now seeing things from Betty's side. She is now looking at the man she has worked so hard for, to prove her worth, her important role in the company and his life, who has worked so hard for his trust, question her, it causes her a deep anguish.

She clarifies things but she needs him to believe her. She needs him to trust in her, to see her, to not question her integrity, to not pull away.

This is similar to the time that Betty confessed that RagTela had offered her a 10% commission and because at this point things were vastly less complicated for Armando emotionally, he listened to her and he showed that he trusted her. However this time Armando now agitated and frustrated over the whole situation tells her "I swear, swear, swear! I believe you, I swear!" because he wants the conversation over.

This isn't enough for Betty but she takes his word. You can tell she feels awful about the whole situation.

People that tend to not show emotion, live in denial of them, and basically just avoid them tend to feel extremely exhausted when we are placed in emotional settings. Be it an argument or just a conversation that is heavily rooted in emotions we tend to burn out quickly and just want the entire thing done with.

Armando is the exact way except he doesn't have the luxury of taking some time off to recharge emotionally like many of us do. For months this man has been on an emotional rollar coaster with the company and now in his personal life.

When Mario shows up to his office we can clearly see a very tired Armando.

Betty isn't like that. Though she knows how to control her emotions, she wears her heart on her sleeve with the people close to her. She isn't afraid to show her affection, though afraid to speak of them she is, Betty still wants people to believe in her.

Again though Betty and Armando are similar in a lot of ways the way they react is what sets them apart. Betty faces her problems and she finds ways to fix them. That's who she is. She explains her side of the story to clear the air but mostly because she doesn't want Armando to not trust her. His trust in her means a lot to her. It's what she has worked so hard for.

So while he is emotionally exhausted at the end of their argument, Betty isn't. Betty is hurting and afraid once again of what it all means.

[obae-me]

Could I please get hcs on how the brothers would react to a mc that doesn't like or feel comfortable receiving compliments? They personally make me uncomfortable since most of the time, people only give me compliments if they want something from me or are just joking and being cruel.

I’m sorry this one came out late, but I really liked writing this one. I hope you like it, thank you, Anon! 💜

Lucifer

He’s the Demon of Pride, and as such, despite his sound and logical mind, he doesn’t realize there are...people...who don’t like compliments. It doesn’t occur to him as a possibility at all. He loves compliments. He thrives under praise. He’ll puff up his wings and strive for perfection just so people will look at him.

So, naturally, he finds compliments to be high on his list of forms of affection. If MC does something right, he’ll compliment them. However, in return all he’ll get is a scoff? A questioning glare? This makes him furious.

What he doesn’t realize is that MC is used to being used. To being praised only to be betrayed. There was always an ulterior motive, so why should demons be any better?

“You would throw back something I willingly gave you?”

“You’re only giving me a compliment to get something out of me, so why don’t you just tell me what you want instead of lying to me?”

That wasn’t a rebuttal he was expecting. Yes he was a demon, and yes sometimes his intentions weren’t the most pure, but to think that someone would believe he’d sink so low as to give compliments in desire to extort them? His brothers maybe, but him?

He took a moment to look at their expression. It was sour and uncomfortable. It’s not what he expected. This was a problem that went deeper than just distrust in demons. He’ll ask them if they’ll talk about it. They don’t go into detail, which he respects, but explains that compliments feel only like lies, and it makes them uncomfortable.

He’ll learn to find other ways to praise them other than compliments. He’ll reward them with a dinner or a little treat. If they’ve done something he’s really proud of, he’ll put it up where people can see. He’ll still give them simple compliments every now and again out of habit, and while MC still doesn’t fully accept it, they’ll smile and nod this time instead of throwing it out the window.

Mammon

He doesn’t give out too many compliments to anybody in general, much less a human. On top of that, it’s especially rare that he’ll give a genuine compliment. This is the demon that MC should be wary of, if he says something nice about them, it’s a very very high chance that he does want something. Not necessarily because he wants to harm the other person, it’s just that he’s grown up with Lucifer as an older brother, and more often than not, puffing up his ego can get him off the hook.

Naturally though, this makes MC very distrustful. On the off chance he does give MC a legit compliment, he might as well have said that he doesn’t like money, because they won’t believe it one bit. He’s totally in the dark about it, he doesn’t get humans at all. He thought he did a good thing, he thought they would’ve loved praise from him, the one and only Mammon. He went out of his way to ask Solomon about it. He was a human too so surely he’d understand.

“Probably because they think you want something, Mammon.”

“But I didn’t that time!”

He was hopeless.

If that’s how they felt, he was going to have to show them how genuine he could be. He was a gentleman, an icon, a pillar of power, so he was going to have to prove it. Everyone found it amusing just how exaggerated he was, treating everything that MC did with respect and reverence. Even Lucifer was in awe over how hard he was working to treat people with honest intentions.

He would make sure MC was there when he returned stolen things back to his brothers. He tells them he’ll cut off gambling and bets immediately. He opens doors for them and escorts them to RAD all without asking for a fee. He wanted MC to trust him, he thought that maybe, just maybe, someone wouldn’t call him scummy for once.

Yes, the brothers had a secret bet with themselves to see how far Mammon could last. Lucifer won, he tends to know his brothers the best. Mammon stopped being completely honest to everyone in about two weeks. He really did try his best to continue to be honest with MC, though. Even if no one else did, they wanted MC to trust him.

Levi

He has a hard time taking compliments too, so if there’s anyone that understands MC, it’s him. Compliments always riddle him with anxiety. He can’t be anything but a dirty, nasty, ugly otaku. His brothers tend to just roll their eyes at it. He’s a powerful demon, he can’t really think that way, he’s just being whiny.

So if MC doesn’t accept any of his compliments, he thinks it’s himself that’s to blame. Of course they’d look extremely uncomfortable to be complimented by him, they probably thought he was a pervert now. He shut himself in his room for days. The brothers had seen this happen before, so they weren’t concerned, but MC couldn’t help but be worried.

They came up to his room, knocked on the door, but was left with silence. Not surprising. They felt like they had to apologize anyway, so they spoke to the door, hoping that maybe Levi would hear some of it. They apologized for making him feel bad. They apologized for being stupid, for being rude.

Levi opened the door, shaking his head furiously. He hadn’t thought that of them at all. They both end up putting their feelings on the table. MC will share with him some of the stories of why they can’t trust honey-coated words anymore. Levi will talk about his failures as the third-born.

“We’re both a mess, aren’t we?”

In the end they’ll both spend much more time together than they had before. Even just the peace of being in the same room, even if they were doing different activities, set them a bit more at ease.

They both worked on trying to be better at accepting compliments, with no pressure put on them, of course. And if any demon ever tired to butter MC up to abuse them, they’d be destroyed by Levi before anyone could say Game Over.

Satan

One time tried to give MC an compliment that was so eloquently written, it could’ve been written by a poet. They did not take it well, to no fault of Satan’s or his work. It was so disgustingly sweet, MC went pale, nauseous off his words.

Satan felt so angry and embarrassed, he refused to be around MC for a week. Which made things worse. Both Satan and MC were spending far far too much time in their rooms and spending copious amounts of effort just on avoiding each other. The other brothers had had enough. They all got together and summoned both of them downstairs to talk. Lucifer called them out.

“Whatever happened certainly doesn’t warrant this new behavior, so you two are going to talk it out. Now.”

“Satan doesn’t like me, doesn’t surprise me, I knew everything was a lie anyway. With a compliment like that, it was too good to be true.”

Satan was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. The brother’s plan seemed to be working, so they left the two alone to talk it out. The two went back and forth for a while, clearing up all the misunderstandings. Satan had never felt dumber. He knew more than most, even among immortal beings, and yet he still let his emotions overtake his logic.

Now that he knew how MC felt about compliments in general, he knew how to handle them. If anyone thought that words alone were among his area of expertise, they were mistaken. He would do countless research on other ways to show praise and affection that wouldn’t come off as hollow. He’d fight anyone that made them uncomfortable again.

Asmo

He’ll have the hardest time with this. He’s a compliment churning machine. He’s a hype man. He’s a man of love., and so he wants to let the people he loves just how much he loves them.

It’s like never ending torture for MC, and they can’t help but feel like he’s doing it on purpose. How could he tell them they look amazing? How could he cuddle as close as he wants and describe them down to the detail? Every day made MC feel sick.

It got worse when MC was around him the first time he got drunk. He’d throw himself at them, every word he said laced heavy with alcohol.

“MC, you’re so cute, I want you by me all the time. MCCCC, you’re so wonderful, and beautiful, and cute-ah but I already said you were cu-“

MC shoved him off of them in a panic. “Stop, Asmo. Just stop!” They fled to their room leaving a confused drunk demon on the floor.

The next morning, while he fought a demon-sized hangover, he draped dramatically over his bed, running over last night’s kerfuffle in his head. Although the minor details were fuzzy, the important parts remained, including MC’s words. What’s this he was feeling...guilt? No no, he couldn’t have that, he needed to fix this right away.

He brought over his fluffiest robe and a tray with little cookies and fruity tea. MC almost didn’t let him in, but Asmo looked...different. Asmo sat them down and made sure they indulged themselves a little before apologizing. He had gone too far, and making other people feel uncomfortable was not an attractive quality.

MC felt like they needed to admit to him as well that any compliment they receive makes them feel that way. It was just too much for them all the time. He’s stunned, but how is he supposed to tell you how much he loves appreciates you?

MC decides to limit him to one compliment per day, maybe two if they feel like they can handle it. So now every day Asmo stays silent till he can think of the most perfect, most beautiful thing to tell them, hoping that maybe one day they’ll fully believe him and take it to heart.

Beel

He’s very much an actions over words person, so it’s rare that he’ll compliment MC with words alone. He likes to bring MC food, make sure they’re well fed and hydrated. He’ll keep them protected, that’s how he best shows his affection. He’ll follow MC everywhere he can, watching over them.

Sometimes he does tell them that they’re so sweet, and MC just shrinks further into their seat. He’ll frown. He doesn’t know why, but he does notice this anytime he says anything nice about them. So he’ll double down on getting them all the food they want. For him food equals love.

MC found it nice, since he was working so hard on making them feel good without trying to compliment them, but one night they came to their bedroom to find enough food to feed a small demon army. They appreciated it, but maybe Beel was taking this further than he needed to.

They brought him back to their room, and he looked extremely pleased with himself. He wanted MC to eat it all, he wouldn’t have one bite...other than the few bites he snuck already. However, MC begged him to help them eat it, it would be impossible to eat it all themselves. While Beel was eating, MC sighed and crossed their legs.

“Beel, I appreciate this so much, but you don’t have to go this far for me, you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

They explained how they just didn’t like compliments in general. No matter who they came from, no matter who said it. Demons, angels, humans, even God himself could say something kind about them and they’d still take it with a grain of salt.

It didn’t take long for Beel to understand, thank goodness. Of his many brothers, Beel is one them who supports them immediately despite how strange it seems. He’ll back down a bit, but still make sure MC knows every day how much he is proud of them by the things he does.

Belphie

Get a compliment from Belphie? Probably if there was something majorly wrong. He’s not good with words in general, and he doesn’t compliment anyone. Not his brothers, not humans, not even Diavolo. So this isn’t too much of an issue for MC.

However, he keeps a close eye on MC, closer than most people realize. Because of this, he notices one day when a grimy, good-for-nothing demon he doesn’t know, tries to win MC over with their words in order for them to do something.

“Aw come on, MC, you’re so smart, brilliant even! So won’t you do my part of the project for me? It’s nothing you can’t handle, you can handle anything!”

He can’t help but notice MC lean heavy on the wall behind them, using the books in their hands to cover the lower part of their fading face. He comes over and puts a ‘friendly’ hand on this demon’s shoulder. Upon laying eyes upon one of the powerful Student Council, they hesitantly tell MC they’ve got somewhere to be and then scatter. Belphie looks at MC and shakes his head a bit.

After what he’s done, after everything he’s said, he has no business helping MC out like this. He knows how much of a hypocrite he seems. He shoves his hands deep in his pocket and turns away. No wonder they can’t take compliments very well when every demon here that does sounds like, well...sound like him.

“Thank you, Belphie.” He stops, looking back over his shoulder at MC. This human...they were so dumb and confusing, but...he didn’t want to leave them alone. They were exhausting yet because of them he’d slept more peacefully and had more good dreams than nightmares.

He won’t ever tell them how much they appreciate them, which is fine, sometimes MC prefers it that way. He’ll mostly stay silent, but stay close to them. MC can know how much they mean to him without him having to say a word. Especially if Belphie feels comfortable enough to fall asleep on them, sometimes in their lap, sometimes on their shoulder. It says volumes.

[herewithstupid]

Whewwwwww, was reminded of one of my LEAST favorite forms of manipulation today.

Gonna talk about my grandpa for a moment. I come from a relatively middle class family- not ‘wealthy’, but grandparents helped make sure that we never really struggled for much unless my parents pride was on the line. Now my grandpa was the type that loved giving gifts/money. I learned really quickly not to ask for anything, because if I did, I would get it.

“Seems like a strange problem to have, Stu,” I hear you saying. “Your grandpa wanted to spoil you? Isn’t that a luxury most people wish they had?”

Honestly yeah, of the problems out there like, idk, getting arrested for things out of my control or not being able to afford food- this REALLY is a luxury, first world ‘problem’. So please take my complaints with a relative grain of salt. The main problem came from my inability to accept gifts or express needs for a long time because of this.

See, the definition of a gift is “a thing given willingly to someone without payment”. Payment is not always in the form of money- I may pay someone for a car repair for example by offering an exchange and repairing their carpet. Payment can come in the form of work, money, action, etc. 

So in actuality, my grandpa never gave me ‘gifts’, because they did not come with no strings attached. Money is how he pulled the strings and maintained control in our relatively unhealthy family while maintaining a nice outward view for the world. Guilt trips, bribes- when I went to college, he tried essentially buying his way into my bank account and having me give him the password so that he could keep track of my spending. Gas cards were given with the intention of tracking where I was going. I’ve been screamed at over the phone because he helped me with a home repair- and then I acted ‘out of line’. There were attempts to discourage me from self-sufficiency and “not to worry, he would take care of me”.

Down the line, this led to an inherent mistrust of any gift, whether it be from friend, significant others... basically anyone unless it was completely anonymous and no way to know who the person was- because an anonymous person can’t hold it over my head. I still have a rather bitter belief in my heart that “nothing is truly free”- which really is an excuse to try to close my heart and make out the world as my enemy, when it really comes down to taking an active role in whole I let into my life and maintaining boundaries. A recognition that the world isn’t good or evil- that there are just sick people in it. 

And while the examples I used with my grandpa are obviously extreme- the point of this is the same. If your ‘gift’ can be taken back at any time, if your gift has strings attached, if your gift comes with expectations, then you have no right calling that thing a gift.

This form of manipulation is popular because it does two things. One, it strokes the ego of the person giving the ‘gift’. They get to feel charitable, get to build this narration in their head of being kind hearted, a great friend/family member/lover, selfless and thoughtful, while ignoring their true, less kind intentions. 

My grandpa has control issues, likely stemming from fear (like most defects do). In a life he felt out of control in, where he knew best how everyone should act if they would just do what they were supposed to, this gave the ability for him to gain control over the people in his life. If they were to reject it, it seems ungrateful. It gave him the ability to paint himself as the misunderstood, generous soul- when really all it came down to was making sure a person felt an obligation to ‘act’ how he believed they should and to be able to guilt a person when they stepped out of line of what he believed they should be doing.

And people do this. All. The. Time.

So,

For those of you who have had this happen to you- you should not feel guilty. You are not responsible for a sick person’s actions. And I’m using ‘sick’, because I don’t think lots of people are ‘evil’. I think they are people who don’t know how to cope with the world around them, and are attempting to stay afloat by whatever means they have, even if it means hurting those in their immediate sphere. And if you realize they’ve been manipulating you like this, you have every right to feel hurt, disgusted, violated- all of it. 

For what it’s worth, as some small comfort, they very rarely are doing it ‘at’ you, even if it seems like it. Yes they may intentionally hurt you. But they do this to everyone, because this behavior is all they have. A person who’s only tool is a hammer will use the hammer- even if it destroys the very foundation and network supporting them. And they will be upset at the support network for breaking- because in their mind, what other choice did they have if that was their only tool?

And honestly for everyone, I encourage taking a step back and pausing before you give someone something. Check your expectations. Pause and really consider what you are hoping to accomplish. If it’s to receive something- whether it be a favor, emotional support, validation, a check to be cashed in later, then pause and think about WHY.

I am guilty of this years ago. I would do favors and over-extend myself as a ‘friend’, because in reality, I couldn’t support myself and I wanted to build a safety net of people that felt obligated to take care of me. Understandably, these friends of mine did not like feeling manipulated, and distanced themselves as they should have. It fed into my woe-is-me martyr syndrome of how I was this amazing person that no one understood, and how no one in the world really understood me. 

What are you so afraid of that you have to try to use people in your life and control them in an attempt to protect yourself? 

Because so long as your ‘good’ actions are tainted with attempts to manipulate people in your own self interest, you’ll find your ‘kind’ actions blowing up in your face. I consider it like a Midas’s touch. You’ll sit and wonder why no one wants to be your friend- without acknowledging that your friendship caused more harm than good. It’s not your responsibility to change a person to how you think they ‘should’ be. 

Only to decide whether or not you can accept them exactly as they are on their own journey (wherever that is), and how much of that person you want to allow into your life. The only person you should work on changing and manipulating into a ‘better’ person, is yourself. 

And when it comes to giving gifts, and honestly, interacting with people in general, give only what you can live without having replaced. 

And my personal motto that I’ve always felt better living by: Give without remembering, and receive without forgetting.

[mshermia]

What’s In Your Heart - Webpril 03: Soul World

summary: 

Peter had been dodging Tony for weeks now. A few months after the world was saved, Tony wasn't sure what he had done but every time they had scheduled a day at the lake house, Peter found a new excuse to cancel.

Or, Peter struggles with the aftermath of the Snap.

read on AO3

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"What the hell is wrong with my cooking?" Pepper had spun around, not too far off from that metaphorical steam coming out of her ears.

Tony was on thin ice. On very thin ice. No matter how much his awesome brain had been praised left and right over the past decades, it sure was failing him now.

"Nothing is wrong with it. And while I personally love your lentil and chicken sausage stew, I'm not sure the kid has the pallet to appreciate your hard work, honey," he rambled, trying not to stumble over his words. "Plus we're out of kale."

Pepper shrugged up her arms in bewilderment. "How are we out of kale? I just bought some yesterday!"

"Erm..." Tony quickly moved away from her, fiddling with the tab and a jug for a bit to hide the cringe on his face. "I think Madame Secretary fed it to the chickens instead of the lettuce leaves." Tony ignored Pepper's groan of annoyance and pressed on back to the topic at hand. "So, I was thinking I can just order in Thai food when he gets here. You know how the kid loves Thai food."

With a deep breath, she rubbed two fingers over the crease between her eyebrows. "When will he be here?"

"Sometime after lunch," Tony said quickly, adding a quieter, "I think".

"So, we're not entirely sure if he'll be here," Pepper clarified, her arms crossed in front of her. "Again."

"He'll be here," Tony waved her off. "He'll be here."

By 5 o'clock, Tony was bent over his workbench in the basement. Elbows perched on the tabletop and head balanced between both hands, he was staring at nothing in particular, wondering what he'd done wrong. He'd been down there for a while when Pepper's soft steps echoed off the walls as she came down the stairs. Tony didn't bother to move, didn't even bother to pretend that he had been doing anything but mope over the fact that Peter had not shown up. One hand tangled in his hair, the other cradling his face, Pepper pulled him close, his head dipping against her chest.

"Did he message you?"

"No..." Tony mumbled against the fabric of her shirt. It wouldn't be long now though. The kid had not been shy for excuses whenever he had canceled lab time.

"Did you guys have a fight?"

Tony turned his head to the side, wrecking his brain and not for the first time. Had they had a fight? Had he done something wrong? 

Things had been perfectly fine right after that last showdown. Well, fine might not be the best word. Tony hadn't been fine, physically at least, but Peter had stuck by his side, never far off when Tony would wake up from a procedure. Every time he had found the kid next to his bed, Tony had been elated. 5 years of agony without him and then, there he was like he had never been gone.

Things had been fine and Tony had no idea where he had gone wrong.

"Maybe it's nothing you have done, hm? It has to be a shock for all of them. Coming back to a world that's so different than what they remembered."

"Yeah," Tony mumbled. "Maybe..."

Just then, his phone lit up with a received message. Pressing his eyes shut, he turned his face back towards Pepper. He didn't need to see it. He had gotten that message too many times already.

It was always the same. Whenever they had finally set a new date, there was something that had come up. Homework. Decathlon practice running long. A late patrol, he needed rest from. May had asked him to stay after all.

"He says that he has a project for school that he's had to finish today and he's not quite done yet and that it'll be too late to come over afterwards," Pepper read out loud for him.

Schoolwork. On a Saturday.

She ruffled her hand through Tony's hair and pressed a kiss on top of his head. "I can still make some stew?"

Tony grimaced against her. "I don't like it with no kale."

With a soft laugh, she pressed another kiss to his head, then untangled Tony's arms from her waist. "Well, me and your daughter will be up there waiting for when you're done feeling sorry for yourself, okay?"

"Funny," Tony grunted, slumping against the top of his workbench again. Pepper was halfway up the stairs when he called out to her. "Is it me? Am I... am I expecting too much after... after everything? Maybe it was all just in my head?"

"Babe, I think I'm the wrong person to ask all that." She tilted her head with a sigh. "Just talk to Peter."

Tony leaned back in his chair, eyes on his fingers toying with the nanites on his right hand. Sure, talking was his area of expertise. Feelings, not so much.

 #

 It had been a long time since Tony had been to the city. Even with all the years, he had lived in Manhattan, that lake house had been terribly easy to get used to. The glare of the streetlights of Queens was definitely something Tony could live without. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he squinted up at the apartment building.

This was a horrible idea.

Tony straightened the sleeves of his jacket as the elevator doors opened onto the floor of Peter and May's apartment. He hadn't felt this awkward ringing at someone's door since his first date in college and back then his biggest worry had been if his fake ID was convincing enough. He brushed his knuckles against the apartment door softly first, then a little hard before he stepped back a little. As the door flew open, it was neither Peter nor May who stood in the frame.

Happy, dresses in boxer shorts and a white t-shirt, was the last person Tony had expected to run into at the Parker's apartment.

"Erm..." Tony blinked a couple of times, his mouth gaping just a bit too wide for his standards.

"Tony! What..." Happy's eyes had grown round and big, his complexion paling as he tugged down the hem of his shirt a little further. "What... what are you doing here?"

"Yeah," Tony mumbled. "Yeah, me... I'm the surprise."

Happy's mouth clapped shut. He retreated a little further into the apartment but there was no convenient place for him to hide.

"Do you need more change?" May called from somewhere within the apartment.

"Er, no..." Happy stammered, his voice pitched far too high. "It's... er...." He cringed at Tony, clearly unsure what to say. "All good here."

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. "I just want to talk to Peter."

"Peter?" Happy's shoulders lost a little of their tension. "Peter's not here."

"What?" Whatever awkward energy had been pulsing through Tony before went flat at once. "He was supposed to come to the lake house today and then sent me a messaged to cancel."

Happy frowned. "He did?" His hand shot up and scratched the back of his neck. "May said he's spending the night at Ned's."

"Oh." That stung. Tony couldn't deny it.

"Come on, give the kid a break," Happy sighed. "Listen, I know you missed him and you did all... all that stuff for him, but he needs some time for his friends, too. Don't be an ass about it."

Tony's heart gave an unpleasant squeeze. "Excuse me?"

"Hey..." Happy pulled his hands up, giving him a look like he didn't want to fight. "I'm just saying. He's been out there with you every other day. He's 17. He needs to live a little." A hot flush rose on Happy's face. "I mean like... do some... some teenage stuff."

Stunned, Tony stared up at him. Just as he was working past his confusion enough to get out a mumble 'What the fuck are you talking about?' did the elevator doors open once again.

"Oh, thank god," Happy groaned holding out money for the delivery driver to take. "Listen Tony, I'd really appreciate it if you could keep all this..." He vaguely gestured at himself and the apartment. "...to yourself. May wants to wait for the right moment to tell him, so, please just, you know..."

"Right," Tony breathed. "I'll... er..." He pointed back at the elevator where the delivery man had already disappeared again. "I guess I'll head home then."

With an awkward little wave, balancing the take-out, Happy closed the door leaving Tony alone in the quiet hallway. His heart was beating harder and faster with every passing second, dread spreading through his veins.

"FRI," he muttered. The nanites in his right hand illuminated at the sound of his voice. "Find Peter. Now."

 #

 It was only thanks to how fast FRIDAY found him, that Tony managed to calm himself enough to take the car instead of commanding the suit to encase him. Well, that and the fact that Peter was less than 15 minutes drive away from the Parker's apartment.

Mount Olivet Cemetery was quiet. The gates had been closed, visiting hours for the public long over. It left Tony with few options but to suit up after all once he was out of sight of the main gate and then hover over the high fence. He walked the rest of the way guided by FRIDAY until he found Peter sitting in the grass.

He didn't look up at Tony but didn't hesitate to speak when he had walked up behind him. "What are you doing here?"

Tony crossed his arms, carefully to keep his own bruised ego in check. "I went to your place because I thought that maybe we should talk about why you're avoiding me. Of course, then I heard that you're at Ned's and I thought cool, I wonder how the kid's friend is living it up. Was expecting a little something different, not gonna lie. Needs better lighting. Also, I'm quite a fan of this thing called central heating."

"That's hilarious," Peter mumbled.

With a sigh, Tony dropped his arms. He walked up the last couple of steps to Peter and sat down in the grass next to him. The October air was not quite frosty yet but far from comfortable.

"What's going on?"

Peter shrugged. "What do you think?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd lie to your Aunt and me about a secret party schedule or a teenage romance you wanted to keep quiet." 

The quiet brooding, the way Peter stared ahead, not baited at all was so unlike him.

"You know, don't you?" Tony kept his eyes on him. "About Happy?"

Peter's chin was resting on his pulled-up knees, eyes staring ahead at the gravestone of Ben Parker.

"Kid?" There were goosebumps on Tony's skin, but now was not the time to freak out.

"Yeah." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "May invites him over when she thinks I'm at your place. Or at Ned's."

"And then you come here instead?"

"Sometimes," Peter whispered.

Tony pressed his eyes shut, battling the rising resentment that Peter would rather sit here alone than to come to him, only to hate himself for making it about himself.

"What's going on, buddy?"

Peter huffed out a breath. "You wouldn't understand."

Both of his hands braced against the wet grass underneath him, Tony swallowed the testy remark that was burning on his tongue. "You're a smart kid. I'm sure you'll find a way to explain."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'm not as smart as you thought. Maybe I'm not—" Peter pursed his lips, gave his head a little shake.

"You're right," Tony nodded. "Maybe I don't know what it's like. It was just you and May and now you come back and this all seems to have happened too fast and—"

"That's not..." He shook his head again, this time a little more forceful. "It's not that. She's... she's happy and I want that. She deserves that."

"Pete, I'm sure they just don't want to overwhelm you. If you talk to her and—"

"Just drop it," he hissed. "This isn't your problem."

Tony bit the inside of his lip, painfully hard at that. His eyes had snapped away, now squinting down at his own chest, watching it rise and fall with the deep breaths he sucked in, hoping to calm the temper that was blazing up inside him.

"Maybe..." Tony blew out another low breath, determined to keep the edge out of his voice. "Maybe the fact that I'm here and asking should tell you that I'm rather willing to make this my problem, Pete."

For the first time, the kid's head moved just enough that he could squint in Tony's direction. After a moment of hesitation, his eyes flickered back to the grass in front of Ben Parker's headstone. "You're happy now." Peter pressed his lips flat with a little shake of his head. "You don't need this. It's not fair to you."

"No, buddy, what's not fair is you being out here lying to us about where you are. After everything." Tony sucked in a deep breath. "After 5 years of missing you."

Peter hid his face behind his hands and just when Tony thought he had gone too far, pushed too much, the kid's arms dropped drown to his knees. "If I tell you, you can't say anything to May."

"Pete—"

"You have to promise me." At last, he looked right at him, eyes pleading. "She can't know."

Tony held his stare, hoping that maybe it would be enough for Peter to yield, but he didn't falter for even a moment. Tony inclined his head at him, banking on the terms changing after he knew what was going in.

"Alright then."

For a moment, Peter didn't move at all. Then he slung his arms around his legs, pulling them a little closer to his chest like it would help to hold onto his composure when he would speak. Only, he didn't speak. He stared into thin air, lips trembling but not a single word rolled off his tongue.

"Pete?"

As if pulled from a dream, his head snapped in Tony's direction, his eyes swimming with tears. 

"I saw... I saw Ben," Peter whispered. "I... Just for a moment. Or..." He narrowed his eyes a little in thought. "Or I thought it was just a moment but now... I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe... maybe it was longer."

"You mean..." Tony swallowed hard, nerves fluttering in his stomach. "After. When you were gone?"

Peter nodded, a first tear dropping off his lashes.

It wasn't surprising. In fact, it was quite in line with what Tony had thought this might be about. Stories of those who had been dusted seeing dead loved ones had sparked up soon after those lost during the Snap had returned.

A trip to heaven for the fallen, was what the tabloids had coined it. A nice sentiment for some, Tony was sure, but they didn't know what he knew. They didn't know about the Stones.

Tony moved a little closer. One hand on the back of Peter's head, his thumb brushed through the kid's hair. "It's normal to miss him, bud. You think May doesn't still—"

"It's not..." Peter shook his head, causing Tony's hand to fall down to his shoulder instead. "It's... I can't explain. You wouldn't understand."

The inside of Tony's lip was sore where his teeth had been grazing and biting, giving an outlet to his own nerves. "I do, buddy. I understand. It's..." He blew out some air, centering himself. "It's unreal. Beyond words, beyond explaining. I... Honestly, I thought it might have been a reaction to the anesthetics at first before I— Well, anyway..."

Peter had sat up at that, his eyes red, eyebrows drawn together. His eyes flickered over Tony's face, studying him while his jaw moved like he was gritting his teeth.

Tony squeezed his shoulder. "All I mean is that all this, magic tricks and... and Infinity Stones, their effects, it's not logical. It's not something we understand yet. Maybe we will one day. If you want to..." Tony shrugged. "We could try and figure out the energy structure of—"

"You saw something?" Peter whispered.

Tony swallowed hard, fighting his instincts to look away, to reach for his glasses, something to shield the uncertainty that had been plaguing him for the past few months.

Peter's eyebrows twitched. "When you... did you see something? When you... did the thing?"

"Did the thing?" He dipped his head at Peter, trying for some humor. Inappropriate, outrageous, the cliché he was supposed to embody.

"When you... when you snapped the gauntlet. When you died..." Peter sucked in a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving Tony's face. "You saw something then?"

Tony swallowed hard. "I didn't die, kid."

"You... you were gone. The arc it was—"

"The nano housing unit's structural integrity was destroyed by the stones. I didn't die, buddy. I— Hey..." Tony moved a little closer, his arm now wrapped around Peter's shoulder. His other hand cupped the kid's face. Peter's breathing had become uneven, panicked almost. "It's okay, kid. Just breathe. It's all good. I'm right here."

Peter nodded like he wanted to believe him, hot tears running down his cheeks onto Tony's hand. He might have tried to hide his tears from Tony before, but now that didn't seem to matter anymore. Just like it hadn't mattered after that last battle. Tony would never forget the fear on Peter's face on the battlefield that day. The way he had been curled up in a chair next to his hospital bed. It was the stuff his nightmares were made off, causing the kid that kind of pain, only second to those memories from Titan.

No, the kid was way past hiding his tears. His eyes were glued to Tony's face. Calmly, Tony mimicked for Peter to breathe in, hold the air, then breathe out. It wasn't like Peter didn't know what to do. This wasn't their first rodeo. Over the years, they'd been here more often than Tony really cared to admit.

They sat there for a while as Peter's heartbeat slowed, as his tears dried, his eyes a little more focused. It took effort for Tony to keep a light smile on his face as he looked right at Peter, not to pull away now. It took effort not to lie to the kid's face like he had been lying to himself, avoiding the trauma, the toll that day had taken on him.

"I do know, buddy. I... I did see it. Or at least I... I guess it was likely the same."

"You saw someone?"

"Yeah," Tony breathed. "My mom."

Peter's eyes widened. "Your... your mom?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded, trying not to think of her face now. "It was just a short flash. She didn't say anything. Just stood here and I... Come here, buddy." Tony pulled him close enough to wrap both arms around him. "I'm not sure, but I think it was the Soul Stone. The orange glow. Did you see that?"

Peter nodded against his chest and Tony hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, must have been that one. I think it just lets you see the people you love, the ones that are already gone. You know, what's in your heart."

Peter's hand shot up but not in time to stifle the sobs that bubbled out of him, deep and agonizing. It caught Tony by surprise. The only thing he could think of was to pull Peter a little tighter against him, mumbling soothing words, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay to miss them, bud. It's okay." When he kept his voice low, it was less likely to shake or worse, break.

"But I didn't... I didn't see them... My mom and dad." He shuffled in Tony's arms. "I loved them. I... I swear. I just... it was all so fast and I... I didn't know. I just didn't think and—"

"Oh buddy, shh. That's not... Maybe..." Tony blew out a breath, cursing himself. His chin was resting on top of Peter's head, his eyes burning for the kid. "Maybe it doesn't work like that, hm? Maybe it's not who you love. And maybe it's just one person, hm? I only saw one person."

"But Ned he... he saw his dad and... and all his grandparents and then..." Peter sucked in a few breaths, his voice muffled against Tony's chest. "He asked me if I saw my parents, too, and I... I lied. I said I did but— You can't tell May, please."

Tony pressed his eyes shut, his heart breaking for the pain the kid had been harboring.

"I swear, I love them," Peter mumbled. "I do. I don't... I don't know why... why they weren't there, why I didn't think, why—"

"Oh buddy, no, no, no. Come here...." Tony grabbed him by both his shoulders, maneuvering him in a way that Peter could look at him. "Hey, look at me for a moment. How old were you, hm? When they died?"

"I..." he frowned, fingers brushing away his tears. "Like... like 4..."

"Do you even remember what they looked like? I don't mean from pictures just... memories of them?"

Peter's eyes filled with more tears his chin trembling.

"Hey, no, I don't... Pete, it's not your fault if you don't, okay? You were so tiny. Just think how tiny Morgan is. If I had—" His lips slammed shut as he pushed the thought out of his mind. "Maybe it has nothing to do with what's in your heart, okay? Maybe it's all up here, hm? What you remember?" He tapped Peter's temple a couple of times, not looking away from him. "We just don't know. But I promise you, it's nothing you did wrong, okay?"

There was reluctance from Peter as he huffed and pressed his face back against Tony's chest.

One hand in his hair, Tony gave it a ruffle then softly tapped a finger against the back of Peter's head. "I know that big brain of yours is trying to rationalize everything that happened, but you gotta trust me with this, kid. This is not on you. I promise. I'm sure if love would have been enough you would have seen them."

Peter didn't say anything, he only held onto Tony, hands balled up in his jacket. The wet grass, the chilly October night, all of that didn't matter anymore. Tony would sit through a lot worse if it could take some of the pain away.

He still had his chin resting in Peter's hair. The kid had calmed down, his breathing even now, the sobs had subsided. Just when Tony was starting to wonder if he had fallen asleep did Peter's stomach give a rumbled that must have echoed through all of Queens.

"Wow! I think I'm gonna have to call animal control and warn them, just in case they get a bunch of calls for a starving wild animal running loose in Queens."

Peter snorted. "Don't be an ass, Tony..." The tiny giggle the kid had let slip, gave Tony hope, but it was forgotten just as fast. With a heavy sigh, Peter shook his head, his voice muffled in Tony's shirt. "You think it's too late? To drive out to the lake house tonight?"

His hand was still in Peter's hair, brushing back and forth through the strands. "Not if you stay till Monday..."

Peter's chest vibrated with another laugh.

"Fine," Tony sighed extensively. "Sunday night then?" He craned his neck a bit, trying to get a glimpse of Peter's reaction. "Only if you want to, buddy."

"I do," Peter nodded. "I do want to."

By the time they had left the city, Peter was curled up on the passenger seat, eyes closed. He looked peaceful like that, at ease. 

Tony blew out a quiet sigh as his eyes went back to the dark road. There was no point in pretending like things would be all dandy now. It wouldn't as simple as this, to have one talk and voila, trauma gone. No, this would take time but that was okay.

Time, they had.

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 14

Peter stared at the lab order. Normally he got through these orders by pretending they had mundane uses. Scratch that—they did have mundane uses. Even though Oscorp primarily sold weapons, the things that Peter most frequently invented there had lifesaving applications.

Hard to see any lifesaving applications for “organic incendiary” though. Peter ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through the motions to create something so detrimental to—to life…

“You’re late Peter.”

Peter closed his eyes as the pale, sweat-soaked face of his best friend swam in his mind. Was—was this why Norman had pushed Harry so close to death? Was it because he knew that Peter would balk at this? Was it to give Peter a mental push, a reminder as to why he was donating time to Norman’s lab?

Maybe. Maybe Norman had planned it all out to the last, micromanaged detail. Or—maybe Norman was just a cold-blooded psychopath. There was no way to no for sure.

“You’re staring at that lab order like it’s going to bite you.” The amused voice came out of nowhere and Peter jumped before turning to face the speaker.

“Dr.—Dr. Octavius,” stammered Peter as he faced the frizzy haired woman.

She adjusted her bulky glasses and chuckled. “Please, Peter,” she said warmly. “Call me Liv.” She held out a hand. “Come on,” she said gently. “Take a break from the work. Let’s get something to eat.”

Peter didn’t really have time. He still had to get to the Bugle (which actually paid him—not much, but more than Norman did) and had to patrol. But—he also needed food.

Norman was a manipulative, sadistic bastard. Everyone could agree on that. Everyone agreed that Tony Stark, Norman’s closest competitor, was better in every way.

Except one. When Norman fed his employees (even those like Peter that didn’t get anything in the way of pay except his best friend continuing to live for another day) he did just that. He fed them. The food was paid for—by Norman. Stark Industries had cafeterias, and the employees had to buy their own food. The one thing that Peter would say that Oscorp was better than SI in was that: at Oscorp every employee—from the cleaning and maintenance crews on up—got free food. Sometimes, Norman would even feed the press.

Peter wasn’t sure why. Being so generous as to offer free food to every person who worked at Oscorp (no matter how unwillingly) seemed to go against everything that Peter knew about Norman. He would have thought that Norman would leech the money he gave his (paid) staff through exorbitantly priced food or simply have vending machines everywhere instead of cafeterias with real, live chefs. (The chefs were actually students who were getting working hours and experience with real food service—and were also allowed to eat for free.) It didn’t make sense.

“Hey Peter,” called one of the lab techs as Dr. Octavius took him down to the cafeteria.

“Hey Liv, any progress on those algorithms?”

“I thought I’d run them by our little genius,” Dr. Octavius said cheerfully.

The mood in the Oscorp labs was very different as well. The biggest difference was that no one at Oscorp ostracized Peter. The others might not know exactly what he did for the company, but they knew that Dr. Octavius approved of him, that he worked on top secret projects, and that he never tried to pull rank on anyone. After the chill of his coworkers at SI, the warm camaraderie at Oscorp was almost a balm on his soul.

He hated feeling that way about anything to do with Norman.

“Now, sit!” Dr. Octavius ordered pushing Peter into a chair. “I’ll go get us food.” She readjusted her bulky glasses before heading towards the order hatch.

Another doctor (PhD) that Peter was familiar with plopped his tray on the table next to Peter. “Coming to the Dark Side?” he asked with a deep voice and a quick smile. “We get better food,” he added tantalizingly as he wiggled his tray.

Peter almost drooled at the sight of the food. Thin strips of meat, crusted on the outside with some kind of seasoning, rested on a bed of almost completely clear noodles and drizzled with a dark brown sauce that smelled amazing. Next to it was a serving of vegetables—just cooked long enough to be both soft and seasoned—and a small bowl of a light brown soup with a single mushroom floating at the top of it.

Peter quickly swallowed before he could actually start to drool and flushed as his stomach growled. “What is that?” he asked.

Dr. Conners shrugged his one arm. “Don’t know,” he said cheerfully. “This cook only knows three English words; ‘no,’ ‘water,’ and ‘weapon’.” The doctor grabbed his fork and speared some of the meat before putting it in his mouth and moaning. “Good cook though,” he mumbled through his food.

Dr. Octavius kicked his chair as she walked by with a tray in each hand. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonished him as she set a tray each in front of Peter and herself.

Peter’s tray was the same as Dr. Conners, and Dr. Octavius’s tray looked like a vegan version. “Thank you,” Peter said politely before he took the fork and got some of the meat.

It melted on his tongue, a mix of savory, crunch and spice with just the slightest bit of heat. It was one of the best things that Peter had ever eaten. He bet if he could get Deadpool to try it, the merc would like it better than Mexican. Peter leaned over until he could see the serving hatch and the little old man standing behind it. He waved and the man nodded with a huge smile on his face as Peter settled back in his seat and went back to eating.

“Told you,” Dr. Conners said with a wink.

“Told him what?”

“That here on the dark side we have better food.”

Dr. Octavius chuckled as she took a sip of her soup. “You shouldn't call it ‘the dark side’,” she said. “Ah, this is good,” she added with a fond look at the small cup.

Peter took a sip of his own soup—and had to agree. The soup was good. The food was good. And despite being in the lair of a man he truly hated, Peter began to slowly relax. He was eating good food and talking with people who didn’t (at least at this very minute) either want to kill him, wish him dead, want money he didn’t have, or any one of a million other things that people had been doing to him, and to his alter ego lately.

“After all,” Dr. Octavius said, “Norman’s donated almost two million dollars to Runaways Unite.”

“Only because Stark donated a hundred thousand,” pointed out Dr. Conners.

Peter kept his silence. He had his own problems with Runaways Unite. On the surface it seemed like a nonprofit organization designed to help with the street children, but Spiderman had had to rescue more than one child from them as they were determined to put the children back in the very situations that they ran from—with no regard to the child’s safety. Naturally, The Daily Bugle wholeheartedly approved of the organization.

“So,” said Dr. Octavius turning her attention to Peter. “I hear that Stark offered you your own lab over there.”

Dr. Conners sighed and saluted Peter with his soup bowl. “We’ll miss you,” he said.

Peter glanced away. “I haven’t taken the offer,” he said softly.

Yet.

The single word hung in the air between the three of them. Because right now Norman held Harry’s life over Peter’s head—but he couldn't do it forever. They’d find a way around Norman, a way for Harry to have a normal life. And, maybe, Peter could be at Harry’s and Mary Jan’s wedding. Or not. Perhaps the two of them would end up with other people, people who weren’t traumatized by what Norman had put them all through. But—maybe.

And there was no way that Peter was going to give support to the man who regularly threatened to kill his child just to control Peter.

“So,” said Dr. Octavius changing the subject again, “why were you glaring at the lab order?”

Should he? Would they understand? Well, probably not, but it couldn't hurt. “Norman wants me to develop an organic incendiary,” he said. “I don’t like something that could—well…” Peter trailed off, not sure what to say.

To his surprise, Dr. Octavius nodded and absently moved her trademark colorful scarf out of the way before it fell into her food. “You’ve got to look after the environment,” she said knowingly.

Or, maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Dr. Conners looked thoughtful. “What if if,” he said slowly, “instead of something that targeted all organic matter, it was something that could be used to target something specifically?”

“Ooo,” said Dr. Octavius. “Like cancer cells. If you set it fine enough, you can target a single type of cancer and knock it out!” She grinned and adjusted her glasses. “Does that help?” she asked.

Peter’s mind began to whirl. “Yes,” he said thinking about the positive ramifications (and willfully ignoring the warlike use Norman was going to put them to). “Thank you,” he said shyly before he turned his attention back to his food.

After all, he knew better than to give good food anything less than his undivided attention.

[dalamjisung]

read my mind ✿ park jinyoung

word count:6973

genre: hospital!au, fluff

pairing: psychiatrist!jinyoung x resident!reader

description: you work as a barista at night and as a psychiatry resident during the day, what happens when those two lives start to mix?

Fridays are the busiest nights; and consequently, the worst nights. Working at a bar isn’t exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it pays the bills and the tips are too good to just give up on– medical school isn’t cheap, and neither are the loan interests you will have to pay for the next twenty years of your life. You didn’t have time to complain about your job; you had to do it and that’s it.

“Hey!” Someone scream as you continue to gather used cups from the counter. “Another double!”

“Coming right up!” You shout, looking at the older man waving his empty cup. “Be right there.”

“Thank you,” He smiles as you pour his drink, and your skin crawls. With the job came the instinctive reaction to sleazy man, the one that makes the hair on your arm stand, signaling the danger and discomfort to come. “Now, what is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Working,” You offer him a smile, knowing it will give you points for a good tip. “Excuse me.”

In a bar, there are many different types of people. Desperate people, sad people, happy people, anxious people; it seems that once an emotion overrides all the others, the bar is the place people go to. A bar is a place for celebration, for laughter and good memories; but it can also be a place for misery, for crying and forgetting. It was only a matter of time until you learned how to read people– their desires, their thoughts, their next moves,– eyes intent on the clients, honing the ability to the point that a person didn’t even have to say anything, you just know what they want. Just like how you know this man only wants to flirt, looking for a boost to his ego from a young woman. He wants to feel empowered by all the wrong reasons and you smirk, amused by his antics. However, men like this one don’t easily let go, offended by the realization that you actually have to work and don’t have time for them; therefore, they resort to physical strength.

“Stay for a little bit,” He murmurs in your ear, brining you close by grasping your arm. “I could use the company.”

“Sir, I have other clients to tend to,” The smile on your face contrasts the harsh tone of your voice. “So if you could let me go, that would be great.”

And just like that, you lost your tips. 

“Don’t be like that,” He tries again, and in his eyes you see the look you hate the most: anger. “I’m being nice, here.”

This is usually the time you call your manager with a very smooth and secure shout of his name, but it seems like today is your lucky day and someone wants more tequila shots. 

“I have to go,” You pull your arm but he doesn’t bulge. “Sir, please, I have to do my job–“

“Can you let her go, already?” A man, sitting to the right of your current situation speaks, loud and clear, sounding as fed up as you. “Even I heard her, man… she has shit to do.”

“Mind your own business,” The guy holding your arms spits and you chuckle humorlessly, taking a chance with the sudden distraction and successfully pulling your arm from his grabby hands. You know that it will leave a bruise but you couldn’t care less. 

“Now I will,” Your helper rolls his eyes and looks at you. His hand instinctively move to his empty cup and you are on it before he even opens his mouth, pouring whiskey enough to last him a while. His eyes are wide in surprise and he even cracks a small smile. “You didn’t have to, I was just–“

“You wanted more, so I gave you more,” You shrug, going back to your work. 

“How’d you know?” He asks, cynical of you. “You read my mind or something?”

“Call it an educated guess,” You say, and keep moving, knowing that if you stop, tiredness will wash over you like a tsunami. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

The night ends seamlessly; nothing much happening after that one incident. It’s when you’re cleaning the counter alongside Jisung, your coworker, that it hits you. You never thanked him for his help. But then again, you think, I never asked for it. 

“Y/N,” Jisung calls from where he is putting the cups away. “I think this is for you.”

“Throw it away,” You say not even looking at it. “I’m not interested.”

“Tsk, still trying to die alone?” Jisung laughs, and you laugh with him, knowing that he means well. “You are too beautiful to be alone, Y/N.”

“And you are too beautiful for that boyfriend of yours, but I don’t see you two breaking up anytime soon,” You tease, poking him on your way to the back. “Is he coming to get you?”

“Yeah,” Jisung shouts. “Want a ride?”

“Please,” You answer, relieved that you won’t have to wait for the bus. “I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Nervous?” Jisung asks when you meet him outside, the smoke of the cigarette coming out of his mouth in a swift puff. “Changing hospitals in the end of residency is always hard…”

“I’ll be fine,” You smile tightly. “I had to leave, and you know that…”

“But people don’t,” Jisung looks at you carefully. “I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” You promise as his boyfriend’s car pulls up. “I’m going to a better hospital with a better paycheck; I’m as good as it gets.”

“Aish, do you only think about money?” He chastises you, frowning. 

“Yes,” You smile cheekily, and his boyfriend laughs. “Until I pay all of my loans, money is the only thing I’ll think about.”

“This girl…” Jisung mumbles, moving to grab Chaewon’s hand. You look at them fondly, knowing that no matter how many times you tell these two that you are fine by yourself and that you don’t want to waste time and energy on a relationship, the truth finds you and, from time to time, you catch yourself wondering how good it would be if you had someone to pick you up from work, too. 

                                                                      ————————

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You bow with a wide smile, trying to hide the nervousness that comes with a situation like this. “I’m a fourth year resident, nice to meet you all.”

“Fourth year?” Someone whispers and you pretend you don’t hear them. “Isn’t that a bit late to be switching hospitals?”

“It’s good to have you, Dr. Y/N,” One of the nurses step forward, shaking your hand. “We are happy you’re here. I’m Jimin, or Nurse Park, whichever you prefer.”

“Yeah,” A girl steps forward. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wheein.”

“Hi,” You wave shyly, glad that at least someone is talking to you. “Are you also a fourth year?”

She nods. “Yeah, but I’m with the Pediatrics department.”

“Ah, that sounds like fun,” You chuckle and she laughs with you. “I’m Psychiatry.”

After you say that, it feels like the words could echo in the silent room. 

“W-What? Did I say something wrong?” You whisper with wide eyes, looking at your new friends. Jimin shakes his head and scoffs at his peers.

“Not at all,” He rolls his eyes. “The doctors are just being stupid.”

“It’s just shocking to see such a cheerful person like you working in such a sad place,” One of the doctors says, laughing as his friends nod. “It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it, isn’t that right?”

“Well, of course, Dr… Ahn,” You squint at his jacket, carefully reading his name. “Let me guess; surgeon?”

“Oh!” He exclaims, eyebrows going high. “How’d you know?”

“The hands,” You smile, pointing at his hands. “You’re holding your cup in a way that your hand won’t get burned with the hot coffee…”

“Wow,” He elbows his friend. “Consider me impressed.”

“What makes the Psychiatry ward so sad, Doctor?” 

Your smile is gone, voice cold and cutting. Anyone could see your change in demeanor; eyes suddenly sharp, chest puffed, and chin high. 

“Well, the–“

“Careful there Doctor,” You whisper close to him. “If you say ‘people,’ what will your colleagues think?”

He clears his throat, looking angry and confused. “It’s not–“

“Because if I can recall,” You interrupt him once again, going back to your smiley self. “The surgery room isn’t all that happy, with all the people desperately hanging onto their lives, trusting people like… you.”

“I don’t–“

“Don’t look down on people that can’t be fixed with surgery,” You breath, bowing to him. “I only ask that of you.”

You hear a mumble with some work you dare not to repeat and leave, a stampede of feet following him suit. 

“That,” Wheein point at the leaving hoard of white jackets. “Was fucking cool.”

“I’m not a fan of people like him,” You say, suddenly blushing. 

“And neither is our boss,” Jimin says throwing his arms around your shoulder. “Wait until you meet him.”

And you meet him. Around two hours later, after you are done with rounds and new patients’ admissions. When you see him, however, your heart stops, because that man does not look happy. 

“Who are you?” He asks, not even looking up from his clipboard. 

“I’m your new resident,” You bow. “Y/N Y/L/N.” “What year?”

“Fourth,” You say, feeling embarrassed for the first time.

“Fourth?” And he finally looks up. You don’t think he recognizes you, and you are not dumb enough to ask, choosing to nod instead. “Why?”

“Because I went through the first three already?” You try to joke but it clearly doesn’t work. “Sorry, bad joke. I just thought a change would be… good.”

“Good?” He frowns and his eyes scan you. “Did you get in trouble in the last hospital?” 

You freeze. 

“No,” You shake your head, looking down at your feet. As long as he didn’t recognize you, you’d be okay. 

“If you are lying, I have ways to find out,” He says, and although his voice is soft, his words are harsh. 

“Then please do,” When you finally gather the courage to look at his piercing eyes, you notice how they don’t look as intimidating as his attitude. They are understanding, and you are confused. “I’m here to do my best, Dr. Park.”

“That’s all I ask, then,” He nods. “Have you done rounds?”

“Yes, Doctor,” And you are back in your comfort zone, doing what you do best. Taking care of people that need you. “I also admitted two new patients and they are waiting for your assessment.”

“How long until you are a fellow?” He suddenly asks, reading the information in the chart. His eyes are quick and he scans everything with such precision that leaves you amazed. 

“Three more months, Doctor,” You know this won’t help your case, but you also know you can’t lie to your boss. 

“Hm,” He hums, and gives you the okay on the documents. “You’ve done a better job on these two files than most my fellows do. Keep it going.”

You blink, suddenly whiplashed. Was that a compliment?

“I give credit when credit’s due, Dr. Y/N,” He sighs, chuckling a little and you feel your whole body melt under that voice. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Yes, Doctor, thank you,” You are quick on your feet and back with Jimin, discussing procedures.

“Ah,” Dr. Park calls again. “Y/N?”

Your body tenses, and you think, shit, he recognized me. This is it. He can fire me if he wants and–

“Those two patients you admitted,” He continues, hand on his pockets, looking so flawlessly cool.

“What about them?” You ask, suspicious of his easy going attitude.

“They are yours.”

And he leaves. 

“Did he jus–“

“Oh wow,” Jimin’s eyes are wide, hands suddenly forgetting what they were doing. “Congrats, Y/N.”

“Is this normal?” You sigh. “He’s giving me more headaches than I’ve ever had in my life, and we talked for literally fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin laughs. “That’s Doctor Park Jinyoung. He loves his job and he is not really easy on people, but once you get on his good side, it’s all good.”

“Are you on his good side?” You ask, jokingly poking him in the waist.

“Most definitely,” Jimin says. “He told me once I was the nurse he trusted the most… it makes me sad that he actually has to trust people to do his job. We are medical practitioners, you know.”

“Has any incident happened before?” You frown.

“Yeah,” His voice sounds strained and tired. “One time he caught a nurse referring to patients as “crazy” and he fired her on the spot. Two residents and a fellow committed the same mistake… don’t misunderstand this, they were good doctors, but Dr. Park Jinyoung doesn’t put up with people that invalidates or disrespect the patients.”

“I wouldn’t either…” You whisper, eyes finding the tall man in the hallway, talking with a wondering patient. She is old and looks lost, but he smiles– the most wonderful and peaceful smile,– and guides her back to her room. When he laughs, his cheeks puff and you can’t help but breath out in relief. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

                                                                     ————————

“Sorry I’m late!” You call out from the back, already putting on your apron and moving to the front of the bar. “Things got a little hectic in the hospital.”

“Everything alright?” Jisung asks, and his eyes take you in; tired, messy, but overall happy. 

“All good,” You smile. “I got it over here. Thanks for covering for me.”

“No problem,” He offers you a pat on the back and goes back inside. “Shout if you need anything.”

You just nod, already pouring a few regulars their orders. Cranberry vodka, Long Island Ice Tea, Tequila and lime. Whiskey. 

“I knew it was you.”

You look up, and to your surprise, it’s Doctor Ahn. His tie is a little loose and he looks drunk enough to make a dumb mistake. 

“Ms. Smart Mouth,” He laughs humorlessly. “Guess you’re not all that high and mighty now, are you?”

“How can I help you, Sir?” You smile, going over the basic script. 

“Oh, gonna pretend you don’t know me?” He snarls and leans forward, almost tipping his drink over. “Do you know how much trouble you got me in with Dr. Park Jinyoung?”

Dr. Park?, you think, but say nothing, maintaining your ground even if all of your body was screaming to run away. 

“He heard about our interaction,” Dr. Ahn grabs the front of your t-shirt and you sigh, knowing that Jisung would show up anytime now. “And threatened to take me to the board. On what ground? Huh? You tell me, since you’re so smart, Dr. Y/N, on what grounds that motherfucker can take me to the board of the hospital?”

“Disrespectful behavior, prejudice against the ill, and now, to top it all, harassment of a coworker.”

Jinyoung stood behind Dr. Ahn, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes shinning a weird glint– something like rage working inside him. 

“Let go of my resident, Hanseok,” Jinyoung mumbles, and the sheer power of his words are enough to make himself heard over the loud music. “Or I’ll make sure those hands can never operate again.”

You are free just in time to hold Jisung back, putting your arm in front of his chest. He looks at you and you just shake your head, asking him to leave it. 

“Doctors,” You call out, trained smile on your face and voice chirpy. “Why don’t we just all take a breather and have a drink? On the house.”

“Wha–“ Dr. Ahn starts to say something but Dr. Park passes by, hitting him with his shoulder, and sits on a stool. 

“Whiskey, please,” He says, and this is more like the man you’ve met. Voice calm and soft, even offering you a small smile. 

“Coming right up!” To say you’re relieved is an understatement. You weren’t looking for trouble, specially with your superiors. 

“Can you guess if I want ice or not?” Dr. Park chuckles and looks at you, and something changes. His eyes, the glint you saw before is gone, and there’s a new light in them, something more relaxed and oh so endearing. 

You offer him a smile. “That goes beyond my abilities, Dr. Pa–“

“Jinyoung,” He clarifies, blushing a little. “We’re outside of the hospital, so just call me Jinyoung, will you?”

“Sure thing, Jinyoung,” You giggle, continuing to clean the cups. “Anything you need, let me know. It’s on the house.”

“This is all wrong,” He says, looking bothered. “I should be the one buying you drinks.”

“W-why?” You stutter. 

“As your sunbae, I should be the one buying my residents drinks,” He smiles and there they are, the cheeks. You control the urge to pinch them and smile. 

“I’ll take you up on that some other time, sunbae,” You laugh, already moving to fill up someone else’s cup. “I have work to do.”

“What time does your shift end?”

“Late,” You sigh, tired just from thinking about it. “But don’t worry! I’ll be at the hospital on time and ready for work!”

“That’s not what I was worried about,” He says, downing his drink and gets up. “But that’s good to hear. Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jinyoung.” 

                                                                     ————————

“Dr. Y/N,” Someone calls. “Patient on room two needs you!”

“Dr. Y/N, there are two emergency patients waiting!”

“Dr. Y/N, they are asking for your help in the Neuropsychology department!”

“Dr. Y/N–“

“Oh my god,” You groan, struggling to maintain your false composure; it’s now been two months since you first started at the hospital and you still wondered where were the other doctors. “Where are the other residents?”

“Dr. Yoon is having breakfast with a few fellows and Dr. Han is late,” Jimin giving you more folders. “You’re the only one here, at the moment.”

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t take care of a whole wing by myself, Jimin,” You breath out, suddenly having a hard time to concentrate. 

“Hey, breath, Y/N, just breath,” He instructs, patting your back. “I’ve already called Dr. Park, he’ll be here as soon as possible, but for now, you need to do this.”

You close your eyes, pulling your hair back and retying it in a high ponytail. Just the mention of his name gives you energy; you know you need to do good by him. 

“Okay, let’s go,” You put on your jacket and you start all over again, assigning nurses to each case as they demanded it. “Jimin, go to the Neuro department and see what they want, I’m sure Dr. Park’s opinion would be better than mine, so ask if they can wait until he’s here. Nurse Baek and Nurse Kyung, go to the emergency patients for an initial assessment and get back to me; I’m going to room 2.”

Y/N, those two patients you admitted, Jinyoung’s voice ring in your head. They are yours.

“Ms. Lee?” You smile, entering the room where the sweet old lady from before laid. “I’m your doctor, Dr. Y/N…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Y/N,” She laughs and you smile. She might not remember you, but the light in her eyes shine like no other. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Lee,” You shake her hand carefully. “Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital?” She asks. “I don’t remember coming here…”

“Yes, ma’am,” You nod. “You were admitted yesterday… but you don’t have to worry, though; we’ll take really goo care of you.”

“Oh I’m sure of that,” Her hand holds yours. “Can you tell me why I’m here, though? I don’t remember…”

Taking a deep breath, you started to explain her condition, going over the medical details in the simplest terms you could, giving her time to process and ask questions. Ms. Lee had suffered from a brain injury that lead her to have long term memory loss, resetting her brain every few hours, which would lead to issues such as taking care of herself and others. Her daughter admitted her to the hospital in hopes that she could be properly taken care of, and that’s what you’d do. She cries a little bit, but is pretty understanding of her situation over all. 

“Will you come back later, Dr. Y/N?” She sniffles, and you chuckle. 

“Of course, Ms. Lee,” You wink. “I have to visit my favorite patient at least twice a day.”

“I hope I’ll remember you later,” She says and your heart clenches. “If I don’t, it’s been a pleasure, Doctor.”

You just smile, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. This was the hard part of the job; the feelings, the defeat, the acceptance. All doctors, surgeons or not, go through the same process of training, where you have to deliver bad news to the ones responsible for the patient… and that was the hardest part for you. Always’ been. 

“Dr. Y/N, good morning,” Jinyoung calls, jogging past you to his office. Surprised with his sudden appearance, you take him in, and his jeans and t-shirt make you smile. 

“Good morning, Doctor Park,” You mumble, even though you know he won’t hear you. 

This has been the routine so far; you get in for the early morning shifts, on the nights you don’t have to stay for the overnight shift and miss work, with barely four hours of sleep, and no one is there besides Jimin. You take care of emergency patients and the patients in the rooms assigned to you. Then, when the clock hits an acceptable hour, Dr. Park shows up, wishing you a ‘good morning’ and running to his office, where he will change and look like the professionally stern doctor she usually does. Once your shift is over, you go to work at the bar, where you will pour greasy men their drink until Jinyoung shows up, and you two will talk for the couple hours he usually stays, then he leaves and you have to get back to your real life. And then repeat. Every night, though, Jinyoung brings you coffee; lattes, fast whites, americanos– always something to make your night better. And that’s how it happened, you realize; the slow growth of your feelings for him, one coffee at a time.

Today however, once Dr. Park finally takes over the ward, and your shift is over, and you go to your job where Jisung is waiting for you with redbull and a sandwich, you feel yourself slipping. You move slower than usual and some clients even have to call you twice before you can actually process it.

“What’s going on with you?” Jisung asks as he decided to help you with the counter. 

“Nothing,” You shake your head, hoping it would wake you up. “I think I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?!” He laughs. “You’ve been overworked for years now. A little is underestimating it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say–“

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

You look to the group in front of you and now you feel like you could actually pass out.

“Dr. Kim,” You breath out, eyes wide in surprise. “W-what are you d-doing here?”

Not sure if Jisung heard you, your glance at him and he nods– he’s keeping an eye on you. 

“So this is what you’re doing now?” Dr. Kim lets out a humorless laugh. “As expected of someone like you.”

Stay calm, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath. Stay calm, Y/N, and do your job. 

“What can I help you with today?” And smile.

He laughs again and you don’t think you could ever forget this sound; it haunts you at night when you try to sleep and it follows you during the day, sneaking on your when you’re distracted. The only way to push it away is to focus on something else– like your patients. 

“Oh, so now you want to help me?” He murmurs and leans forward and you’re scared.

For the first time since you started this job, you are terrified. 

“Whiskey.” 

Your hand flies to the bottle instantly, your body reacting on its own and moving to the new man sitting next to Dr. Kim. You feel his eyes on you, heavy on your back as you serve the costumer, unable to look up from your feet. 

“Thanks, Y/N.” 

Jinyoung. 

“Ah,” Now you’re looking at him, begging him with your eyes to stop. “If it isn’t Kim Jungseok…”

“Park Jinyoung,” Dr. Kim smiles and you just want to sit down and cry; for two months, ever since you left your old hospital, all you’ve been wanting to do is cry. “How do you know my old resident?”

At this Jisung is right next to you, pushing you behind him. 

“Because she’s my new resident,” Jinyoung point at you and takes a sip form his cup. “Best one I’ve ever had, to be honest.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N was the best at her job,” Dr. Kim looks at you and winks.

“Funny you say that,” Jinyoung chuckles and a weird sense of deja-vu hits you. You’ve seen that look in his face before, when he fired one of the fellows for inappropriate behavior towards a few of the nurses. From what you knew, he kept hitting on them and intimating them to go on dates. “Why’d you fire her?”

This is when you know you need to intervene.

“Dr. Park, I don’t–“

“She chose to leave,” Dr. Kim shrugs. “Can’t force her to stay, can I?”

Jinyoung laughs and finishes his drink. All the while, alarms are sounding in your head as your current boss turns to face your old boss. Everything in Park Jinyoung screamed powerful at that moment and you know that something big is about to happen.

“No, but apparently you can force her to do other things, right?”

Jisung is quick to pull you to the back as soon as the first punch is thrown. You scream Jinyoung’s name but he is too busy to look and the door closes, leaving just you, shaking and crying, and Jisung, who’s on the phone with the front door bouncers. As soon as they give you the okay, you are running to the front, looking for the man you see everyday, hoping to see him just one more time before tomorrow. 

“No,” You mumble through your tears, banging your fist on the counter. “No no no, fuck no!”

“That was your old boss,” Jisung breaths out, looking at you. “And what Jinyoung said–“

“I have no fucking clue how–“

“Your file,” Jinyoung says, coming out of the bathroom with a wet napkin to his mouth. “Did you really think I’d never find out?”

“I didn’t–“ You stop, trying to think back to what you wrote on your file. “I didn’t say anything about it on my file.”

“You wrote issues with the staff, the rest I assumed,” Jinyoung sighs, sitting back on the stools, flinching a bit. “Harassment is not something I take lightly, Y/N.”

“Assumed?!” You shriek. “How the fuck–“

“You forget that’s my job,” And he looks at you like no one did before– like you are there, shinning brighter than the lights; like you are speaking louder than the music, and presence bigger than the room. He looks at you as if you are the only one present and you feel your heart do a weird thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?” You ask. “If people at the hospital knew, I’d be the talk of the department. I’d be labeled as either he girl that couldn’t just put up with it, or the girl that put up with it for too long… so I left before it got worse.”

“I didn’t say people,” He seethes, and you’ve never seen him look so devastated before. Not when Ms. Lee had one of her episodes, not when he was called in to evaluate the mental condition of an inmate, not when you were swarming with emergency patients. Never. “I said me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I don’t know…” You whisper, drying the few tears that still dared to fall and turning to the freezer to get a couple of drinks. “I just didn’t.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Jinyoung!” You chastise, turning to face him with now two beers. The bar had been closed a little early thanks to the fight and Jisung was nowhere to be seen. It was just the two of you now, and you sit next to him. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugs. “I’m the one responsible for you now,” He sighs, turning to you. “And how can I take care of you if you won’t let me?”

“I’m your employee,” You roll your eyes. “Not your girlfriend.”

“…yeah,” Jinyoung takes a sip. “Sure.”

Something shifts, as you sit there, alone with Jinyoung, drinking beer, after he had just been punched because of you. His words, slow and sad, hit you like a ton of bricks. His eyes, looking down at his hands, make their way to you. And now you know. Now you are sure. 

“Jinyoung,” You breath out, sounding as surprised as you are sure you look. “Do you like me?”

His head hangs low, and he chuckles. “Read my mind again, did you?”

“I–“

“Don’t,” He asks, eyes shinning with strength. “We’re old enough to not have to explain.”

“I work,” You blurt out, ignoring him completely. “Two jobs; the hospital and here. Not because I like, though… here, I mean. I don’t work here because I like it, but the tips are good and I need money.”

Jinyoung just nods. 

“I need to pay my school loans,” Words keep coming out of your mouth and you are not sure why. You’ve never felt the need to explain yourself before, but with Jinyoung everything is just different. “I need to pay them as soon as possible because I don’t want this huge debt interfering with my career. I’m sure I’ll be able to do it in a few years, if I manage to get my fellow in this hospital. All the time I don’t spent with you and Jimin, I’m here. I’m constantly tired, hungry, stressed, and overworked. I smile to men that are disgusting because I can’t tell them fuck themselves without losing my job and I don’t have anything to look forward to, anymore. I like you, too. You are caring, and kind, and an incredible doctor. But why do you like me? I’m not the best at what I do, but I’m not the worst. I’m not particularly skilled, or impressive, or–“

“Somedays,” Jinyoung interrupts your rambling, hand moving to cover yours, resting in the counter. “I have no faith left in humanity. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done… I’m not sure exactly why, but somedays I just don’t think there is anything good out there. And then I see you. In all my years of working in that hospital, I’ve never seen anyone like you. You work diligently, without skipping a day, although you’ve not slept for nights, and you do what your told, but you follow your gut. You know right and wrong and, better yet, you know people. You have this freaky ability to read body language and the patients love you, because they know you know what they need and what they want. That is what makes you an incredible doctor.”

You just look at him.

“You say you’re not particularly skilled,” He laugh. “That’s bullshit, Y/N. You are one of the best doctors I’ve seen. Hell, you are one of the best people I’ve met. I literally took a punch for you, because you are so worth it.”

“Jinyoung–“

“Don’t do that again,” He asks, stroking his thumb on the palm of your hand. “Tell me things. I want to know them, so I can help you. I know right now seems hard, but you will get through this. I know you will."

“How are you so sure?” You whisper, entranced by this man.

“Because I did,” He smiles. “Five years ago, I worked this same job, at this same place. And I did it; I payed all of my loans back, turned into a pretty good doctor, and dare I say, met you. Things seem pretty fine to me.”

“Oh my god, you are so cringey,” You groan, laughing with him. “Who knew? Intimidating Dr. Park is actually the softest boy.”

“Just for you,” He says and you laugh even harder. “Now why don’t I take you home? You can hopefully get a full eight-hour-sleep if we leave now.”

The ride to your house is silent and comfortable. But that’s all that is– a ride. Jinyoung drops you home, and, after declining your offer for coffee, drives away. 

You go to bed confused and lost. 

He did say he liked me, right?

                                                                     ————————

“And he left?!” Wheein shouts, banging her fists on the table. “Wah, that man really is heartless…”

“Yah,” You frown. “Don’t say that.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to offed your boyfriend,” Wheein laughs and you chuckle with her, eating your lunch in silence. 

Jimin looks at you with a little smile, but says nothing, so you nod at him. “You are awfully quiet today.”

“Ah, am I?” He chuckles. “Didn’t notice…”

Wheein elbows you and you look at her, suspicious of your friend. “Spill it, Park.”

“Spill what?” He makes an innocent face but he can’t fool you. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You ask, resting your face on your hands.

“Like I’m kidding something,” He mumbles and looks to the side.

“Ah!” You shout, pointing at his eyes. “Why’d you look away? What are you hiding?”

“I really hate you and your mind reading abilities,” He groans and hides his face in his arms. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?” You whine, looking at Wheein as she laughs. “We have no secrets among us!”

“Yes we do,” Jimin scoffs. “And this one I really can’t tell.”

“Come on, Jimin-ah,” Wheein begs, curious as well. “Tells us.”

“Nope,” He says and gets up. “Gotta blast.”

“Does this has anything to do with Jinyoung?” You ask, and he flinches a little before running away.

“What was that?” Wheein asks pointing at your friend. “He’s the worst at keeping secrets!”

You shrug and go back to work, waving goodbye as she runs after Dr. Kim Yugyeom with some files that need his signature. Jimin is at his station but he refuses to talk to you, certainly afraid that he will spill the beans. The day goes by slowly like this, and right before you leave, you remember a few papers that need Dr. Park’s signature. 

“Jimin,” You call, running to the front desk. “Where is Dr. Park? I need his–“

“Not here,” He says quickly and leaves. “Goodbye, have a goodnight!”

“So fucking weird,” You mumble watching him speed walk to Ms. Lee’s room. 

You leave the papers in the front desk with a post-it note and decide to call it for the day, thankful that you are out on time and that you won’t be late for your shift at the bar. You are on the elevator when you pull your phone, ready to text Jisung but surprised to see that he texted you first.

I won’t be at work today. Just you ;)

You swear you almost have a heart attack. 

What the fuck do you mean it’s just me? Jisung, I can’t take care of the bar by myself!

We’re not opening tonight, chill. I just need you to check inventory and you’re done. 

Why can’t he do that? You sigh, knowing that you can get that done within the hour and then go home and rest. 

Okay.

You get to the bar already exhausted and you drop your bag in the door, taking a second to breath. You admit, you loved this place. The wooden tables and counter, the atmosphere, the freedom. You’ll miss it when it’s gone. You feel so natural in there, not having to hide anything from anyone. You feel comfortable, even though sometimes you have some trouble. 

Is this why Jinyoung comes here every night?, you wonder, walking to the counter to check the bottles. Is he looking for comfort, too?

You are halfway through inventory when you hear the chimes of the door. Knowing that Jisung was probably on the seventh heaven with his boyfriend right now, you make your way to the front, shouting as you walk.

“Sorry, we’re not open tonight!”

“Not even for me?” 

You look up to Jinyoung, not exactly surprised, but still impressed. He looked flawless, in jeans and a jumper. His hair, ruffled by the wind outside, covered his eyes a bit and you smile, thinking he looks adorable in his glasses. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, walking to him. “You weren’t at the hospital…”

“I had a consultation at the penitentiary,” He sighs, and his shoulders drop at the confession. You feel the stress coming out of him, and you grab his hand, hoping that maybe some human touch is exactly what he needs. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Hello, then,” You smile bright. “Want a drink?”

“Thought you were closed?” He teases, sitting on his usual stool nonetheless. You laugh and walk behind the counter, and everything feels oddly familiar. 

“I’ll make an exception for you, kind sir,” You joke. “You did help me even without knowing me…”

“Ah, I was wondering if you recognized me from that night,” He smiles and that is all you needed. “I hated seeing that man grabbing you like that, to be honest.”

“Why? Were you already so in love with me that you got– Hey, where are you going?!” You laugh as he rolls his eyes and pretends to leave the room. He comes back when you ask him to, grabbing his cup and your hand in the process. “I missed you today.”

“Yeah?” He asks shyly, blushing a bit as you lean over the counter, face really close to his. “Missed you, too…”

“Jinyoung,” You groan. “When will you kiss me?”

You think he chokes on his drink and once you reach over to tap him on his back, he pulls you by the wrist, covering your mouth with his. You can’t help but chuckle at this man; he always looks so demanding and stern in the hospital, but his kiss is nothing short of shy and gentle. He takes his time, and your neck even hurts a bit after he pulls away, but it’s oh so worth it. 

“There,” He ‘tsk’s’ and takes another sip. “Happy? I was planning something more romantic, but you are just too impatient.”

“Oh shut up,” You hit his arm lightly. “It was visible how much you wanted to kiss me.”

“Okay, this can’t do,” He gets up and goes behind the counter, caging you in between his arms. “Y/N, this won’t work like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“For this,” He motions in between you two. “To work, you need to stop reading me.”

At that, you laugh, throwing your head back and wheezing. “It’s not something I chose to do!”

“I want to surprise you at leas once!” He whines.

“Oh,” You gasp, looking at his pouting lips. “Is big bad doctor whining?”

“Stop teasing me!” He begs, hiding his face on your neck. “I’m not good with these things.”

“Oh, I think you’re great,” You say, kissing him once more. “The best, really.”

“I hate you,” He groans, lips finding yours again. 

Jinyoung pulls you closer, sitting you on top of the counter and finding a place in between your legs as he kisses you like there is no tomorrow. Now, he is much more firm then he was before, and you can’t hide your excitement, grabbing his neck and hair and pulling him closer. 

“We need to stop,” He murmurs on your lips. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if we keep going.”

“Behave yourself, we’re at my work place,” You laugh and, pecking his lips one last time, jump out of the counter. “I still have some stuff to do, but you can go home if you want.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “No way, I’m dropping you home after this. Jisung said he can’t come pick you up and I don’t like you walking home by yourself at night.”

“Jisung? Since when you guys talk?”

“Since I needed to find out when you’d get here,” Jinyoung smiles mischievously and he looks so young and carefree that you don’t dare to tease him, afraid that he’ll close himself off again. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” You smile. “Is that why Jimin was acting weird all day?”

“Ah, that boy can’t keep a secret for his life,” Jinyoung sighs. “Poor him, I bet you and Wheein interrogated him.”

“You bet we did, he was acting so weird!”

The banter occupies most of your time and soon enough you find yourself home, on your bed, with Jinyoung’s arms wrapped around you. The comfort is unlike anything you’ve felt before and you snuggle closer to him, happy at last.

As sleep caught up to you, you couldn’t help but think how excited you were for work tomorrow, when you’d finally have someone to pick you up, too. 

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

Hello lovelies! As promised, here is the update of the week! Jinyoung’s turn <3 This was so much fun to write, although I will admit, it’s been the hardest one so far. What do you think? Let me know in the comments :P Love you all and thank you for the constant support <3

[feminist-propaganda]

Single Mothers Will Probably Cry During Every Episode Of Queen’s Gambit - Episode 7

“You know, most times when people tell us something’s for the best, it’s for the worst. This time it’s true, okay?”

Alice walks out of the car, and eight year old Beth watches her walk towards a big beautiful home. She knocks on the door and a woman with a child in her arms comes out. The woman tells her it isn’t a good time, but Alice insists. She wants to talk to Paul. Alice tells Paul he was right.

“It’s been five years. You can’t just show up here!”

“I came because I can’t do this”. admits Alice

“I cannot” she continues. “I feel like I am letting her down”.

“Why did you bring her here?” says Paul

“Because I need your help!”

“It’s too late. Please go!”

Beth watches from the car. it’s not the same Beth as the latest episodes, it’s Beth right before the orphanage. It’s car crash Beth. She understands everything. She is aware, lucid. 

Alice walks back to the car, stares at the ground. As the car rushes through the country roads, Beth asks.

“Mama, who was that?”

Alice is crying.  She responds : “A mistake. A rounding error. It’s just a problem I gotta solve. ”

Beth asks: “What problem?”

and Alice responds: “What I do with you”

Lesson 7: Ask For Help

Jolene is the first person in the Episode who comes to offer her support to Beth. She finds the house is dirty, Beth is drinking all day and popping pills. She came because she had already tried to call, and never got an answer. The phone is disconnected. She tells Beth that her Chess instructor from the orphanage died, and she offers that they attend the funeral together.

As they talk in Beth’s room, we finally get some insight into Beth’s thoughts. It’s only with Jolene that she gets this real, this comfortable. She explains that the Chess Federation has a lot of expectations from her (Russia, San Francisco, The Tonight Show). That if she doesn’t do these things, she has nothing else but the drinking. That she wants to quit drinking but she’s afraid.

Beth is caught up in a dilemma you probably struggle with too. Chess forces her to focus and perform, it keeps her off the substances she wants to abuse. But she can’t play Chess all of the time. And Chess also is a competitive sport, so it doesn’t particularly relax her. It might keep her off the drink for a while because she’s studying, getting ready for a tournament. But once the tournament is over, she binges. What’s the way out?

Beth says she feels like she’s erased her brain. What she means is that memories from her childhood, like the memory of her mother asking for help and not getting it, are so overwhelming that she would rather think about anything else than to face that.

Jolene tells her to stop digging and Beth says “Maybe it’s in me! My mother went crazy!”

“Went crazy or always was?” “I don’t know” admits Beth.

“She drink or any such?” asks Jolene. “No never” says Beth.

Jolene to conclude : “She gone”. 

They head to the funeral. But it’s not just the Chess instructor that they are releasing, it’s Beth’s mother. 

To release something you love so much, Beth learns, you have to start by thanking it for what it gave you. 

When Beth is in the car, Jolene tells her about her career, the things she’s studying, what her plan is. She tells Beth as soon as she passes the bar, she’ll leave the firm.

"What I want is what you got” 

Beth glares at her

“You’ve been the best at what you do for so long, you don’t evn know what it’s like for the rest of us”.

I am reminded of the things I wrote in Episode 1. The importance of finding a field that belongs to you and becoming the best at what you do. Challenging yourself and adding to the existing discipline. Beth thinks about that too, and probably wonders: What was it? Who was it? How did I know that I should pursue something so agressively like that? 

The girls look at the trailer park. And then pull up to the orphanage, where Beth remembers the lessons she got, she remembers being told by the teachers that her parents made poor choices. During the funeral, Beth remembers she owed the Chess instructor 10 dollars and she wants to go back to the orphanage. As she sits in the basement once more, she seems to be taking it all in. Trying to understand what it was that got her there, trying to understand what the root of it all is, what motivated her to start the Chess journey. You have to look back to remind yourself of how far you’ve come sometimes and see what general direction you’re going. She sees all of the newspaper clippings of her that Mr Shaibel collected, as well as the letter she sent him asking him for those 5 bucks.

Once Beth has faced the memory of her mother asking for help, and she has in turn asked Jolene for help, she is now ready for what therapists call the full integration of her personality. She has now balanced out all of it : her past, her present and her future; her ego, her id and her it. 

When the Christian Crusade offers her a stack of money for her to speak out against the U.S.S.R, Beth tells them she isn’t going to do it. She asks Benny for help but he thinks she ‘s stupid for not accepting the free money. In the end, Jolene is the one who pays for the trip to Moscow.

In Moscow, Beth doesn’t drink. But more importantly, when she has to play the finale against Borgov, she gets on the phone with all of her friends reunited in New York. They’ve each studied a branch of game, they’ve summarized it for her and found the best play. She’s ready.

It’s difficult for single mothers to ask for help, probably because it reminds them of their children’s fathers. They’re probably not around at the moment, and probably aren’t helping out. What you learn, when you face such a situation is to become strong. People tell you to be resilient, and they mean well.

But strength isn’t something a single mother should rely on forever. Strength is what makes you drink at night and pop pills. Strength is what makes you accept abusive behavior, because you think you can take it. Strength is what pushes you to work several jobs. Strength is the voice in your head that tells you that you don’t need to sleep more than 5 hours a night. You got this, remember?

How can a single mother be something else than strong? How can she raise her kids right but at the same time show vulnerability? Where can she look for help?

There isn’t one answer, but I guess this is where I’ll speak my peace on this topic.

The expression “it takes a village” is real. 

In the 1950s, after the Second War World, a new world order was designed and pushed onto the West. The United States started producing a bunch of consumer goods and they wanted to sell them. Consumerism was invented. Back in the day, people lived in farms, they owned 1 x car and they shared it amongst themselves. Not everyone had a lawn mower. People made a lot of their own food, they knew how to process and transform it.

In the 1950s, a new concept was introduced : the nuclear family. All of a sudden there was this huge pressure to get married, have some kids, buy a house in the suburb, have a nice lawn and own a dog. The house came with a lot of stuff inside of it like vacuum cleaners and center pieces and toys. Children were fed advertisements from a young age and were taught to desire things, consume them and then throw them away.

The nuclear family model was a model that excluded the aunts, the uncles, the neighbours, the friends, the grandfathers, the grandmothers, the teachers, the shopkeepers. In that sense, it was the opposite of community, the opposite of communism.

The nuclear family model was invented to sell more Ford cars and tea sets. But the unintended consequences of it was to place a huge amount of pressure on men and women alike to live up to this ideal. Because women at the same time were being trapped in the housewife occupation, they became bitter, depressed human beings. Their husbands couldn’t understand them, and many left.

Who was left once the husbands left? In this new system, no one. Before, men would die at war, women would die in childbirth, death was omnipresent. But community was alive and well in the villages, on the farms. When women were widowed, they quickly remarried. And men did the same. If that’s not what they wanted to do, solutions were found, sisters would live with their sisters, mothers would take in their daughters. Generations lived together and learned from eachother.

The children didn’t rely so much on the presence of one particular individual, a village was raising them.

Single mothers, I reckon, should look for help, ask for help and accept help. Alice’s mistake was that she could only think of one person to ask for help - that was her ex husband. Beth overcomes this in Episode 7. And in the last scene, we see her exiting the taxi that is taking her back to the U.S.A where the President wants to meet her.

Instead, she walks a couple of blocks in Moscow until she finds chess players. Because that’s what chess was always about : a game that people liked to play. Something, an activity, that children and adults can find solace in. A moment where one can be in the present, without worrying too much about what is going on at home right now or what will happen if we disapoint the people around us.

Games preceded toys. Games fascinate children. Toys just frustrate them.

One last thought. Games are mathematical objects. If you study math, you’ll see that in Probabilities, you use the dice as a classic example to calculate the probability of each outcome. Beth’s mother was a mathematician, and the last thing she explains to Beth is that “she has a problem”. She believes she is failing as a mother, and needs to find a better environment for young Beth. Her problem is she can’t figure out what this better environment could be.

Beth’s mother studies the landscape around her, the people she knows, the codes they follow. She calculates, in her mind, that Beth’s best shot at life will be to lose her mother. If she loses her mother, she can be received in an Orphanage, where some stability and comfort will be provided. Alice, Beth’s queen, decides to sacrifice herself to save the Kingdom, which is Beth’s future. I said Alice made a mistake when she failed to ask for help to people that weren’t her husband. But maybe I am not giving her enough credit. Maybe she has already studied those possibilities and she just found that the best outcome was for her to die.

It’s sad, but when you look at the result in the end you can’t help but think she might’ve been right. Beth was raised by an incredibly smart, forward thinking woman, who taught her how to carry herself in life, and now she’s sucesful and she’s found a place where her talents can be valued, where her gifts are noticed.

[undead-notunreasonable]

Happy Drac-O-Ween || Part 21 of 31 ||

It was now Elizabeth that was chained to a bed, though not as awkward or isolated as the one she held Count Dracula in. Vlad wanted her eradicated all together, but Dracula wiped away that idea with the fact that she was a close friend but they also try and show her that their plans for the world were not as terrifying as she thought it out to be, that there was no shame in being who you are not what you are. Dracula stood in the doorway, watching the older vampire as she lay asleep, no doubt in his mind that she would freak when she awoke to find herself captured. Tit for tat he supposed. Cold lips came to press as the back of his neck, a soft scratch of stubble to accompany it also.

"Come to the living room," Vlads voice was husky as he spoke into Draculas ear from behind "We have plans to make. I don't want to risk her being near." Hearing the footsteps pat on the floorboards indicated that Vlad was walking away, seemingly keen to get his plans underway.

Dracula gave a final look to Elizabeth, half wondering if holding her against her will was a good idea. But the chance to force yourself into humans lives and leave them feeble was greater. He lightly closed the bedroom door with only but a click, then made his way downstairs into the living room, admiring the way Vlad had himself already draped like a sleepy kitten on the sofa, eyes watching the fireplace. How strange how this was how the pair had shared their intimate moments centuries ago, and here they were together, everything vastly different. Was having him around making him question his every step of having him around making him yearn for the past? He barely had time to think when the man's gaze met his at last.

"Do you have any ideas on how to execute our plan?" His voice sounded deep and commanding, just as it was during the war.

Dracula gave a pinch to the bridge of his nose, falling into an accompanying armchair. "First off, we need to take out any kind of hindrance." He sighed as he worked through his thoughts.

"What hindrance would there be? It's humans, they easily be taken out."

"No, it's not just humans, it's a team of humans. The Jonathan Harker Foundation. Kept me in one of their high tech glass cages for a short while, fed me human food & gave me a chemical toilet." He gagged at the memory. Vlad looked on at him, confused by this information. Dracula let out a small huff of a sigh, going on to further his point "They're a secret government organisation, specialising in researching people like us. I was just a myth until they found me lying at the bottom of a seabed. They seem to have their eyes and ears everywhere but not close enough that they've not questioned me about the disappearance of three people already, so they're not as much a threat but they could be. I can pay them away with my lawyer if need be, but we need them gone all together." He cleared his throat, biting the back of his thumb as he processed everything once more.

"Can't we just go in, you and I like old times, and slaughter everyone there?" Vlad purred, the suggestion of murder made something shine lovingly in his eyes.

"We could if this was Târgoviste & 1462." Dracula laughed back in his seat, eyeing up the ceiling as he remembered the Night Attack. "No, it would gain far too much press and ruin everything for us. The world has news at its fingertips, videos would leak out, the world would burn itself to the ground, there'd be nothing left for us. That's not what we want, we want the world to still exist for us." He gave the man a warm smile, imagining the pair of them living in solace together. "We need to defund them, that's how you eradicate an organisation these days."

Vlad sat up then, gripping and rubbing at the arm of the seat, very much like he used to when he sat upon a throne, it was a tell tale sign that he was happy with a plan and itching to execute it. "Who is giving them the money?"

"I don't know." Dracula replied flatly.

"How can you not know? How can you conjure up this plan and have nothing more to make it happen?" Vlad spat in a sudden burst of anger, his Wallachian accent thicker in his upset.

But Dracula was used to his sudden outbursts like this, un-phased yet still relaxed "I don't know whose funding the organisation but we can find out."

Vlad looked taken back then "How do you propose we do that?"

Draculas chin jutted toward the window, pointing it to the street "Haven't you noticed all the unseen undead roaming about the streets? It's October, it's their time to come home." His tongue ran along his lower lip in thought "And you're very lucky that I bonded with one before her death. Well, second death."

"What makes you think she would help you now, given that you've killed her twice?"

"She's a vain little thing. We can pander to her ego."

A smirk played at Vlads lips "I can see why you two got on." Before giving out a low chuckle.

[luninosity]

Okay, I’d already had the idea, so I couldn’t resist! One final @whumptober2020 ficlet (so...extra completion, I guess? :D ) for theme 30 (because I’d forgotten I’d already done that one!) NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? prompt: Ignoring an Injury

This one’s in the Character Bleed universe! It’s a Sam/Leo story, set sometime in the future...

#

Sam had seen a decent amount of television, and a decent amount of science fiction. He’d even seen a few episodes of this particular show, though not one in which Leo’s amoral space villain character popped up.

 He waited very quietly where he’d been told to wait, out of the way behind cameras. He gazed at the movie set. They were filming in Ireland, in a wild jumble of dark rocks and crashing waves that’d stand in for an alien planet. Sam had never been to Ireland, or on a movie set, before.

 Before Leo Whyte. Before kisses like rainbows, and brightly-colored teacups appearing in the morning, and the way Leo’s eyes warmed, green and brown shifting like shyly happy sand, every time Sam took his hand.

 Dating an actor wasn’t without complications. Leo spent more money on new couch pillows than Sam had spent on an entire couch, and generously offered to pay for Sam’s whole family to visit London, and genuinely had no idea how to navigate a supermarket. Leo wasn’t Colby Kent levels of famous, but was recognizable enough that cameras popped up at airports and restaurants, and only the day before Sam had stepped to the side while Leo smiled and took pictures, as requested, with a group of fans who’d spotted them in a Reykjavik bookshop. That’d taken at least twenty minutes.

 He watched Leo and the other actors get into position, crashed spaceship behind them. The male lead, the counterpart to Leo’s delightfully over-the-top petulant wickedness, said something that made Leo laugh, a joke or a comment. They were all dressed in tattered post-crash versions of science fiction extravagance, colorful and quirky. Leo’s long coat billowed in Icelandic wind; he glanced across rocks and cameras toward Sam, and waved enthusiastically before flopping down into rubble.

 Dating an actor might be complicated. But dating Leo Whyte made Sam’s whole world more wonderful. Bigger. Way more full of rainbows. He wouldn’t be anywhere else.

 He stayed out of the way. No one minded him being on the set—in fact, the director had been enthused about Leo’s photographer boyfriend dropping by, especially after Sam’s portraits of Colby Kent and Jason Mirelli’d had such an impact, and had said it’d be an honor if Sam wanted to document some of the filming process—but Sam was also very aware that he knew next to nothing about the intricacies of television production.

 He had been capturing moments all week, and he’d happily contribute to a behind-the-scenes book. He was honestly amazed to have been asked, and asked in that tone of voice. He was still getting used to people knowing his name.

 They began rolling. Leo’s character woke up first, struggling upright. He’d been responsible for sabotaging the ship, of course; but he had not planned for an outright crash.

 He gazed around: at broken rocks, at a split-open ship hull, at flung bodies of companions. His expression changed; his whole posture changed. So many emotions ran through hazel eyes, lingered in the tip of his head, the set of his shoulders. He could escape. He could finish off his sworn enemy. He could try to contact his evil minions, back with the fleet.

 Leo was so good at embodying a character, Sam thought. So brilliant. So talented. So much nuance. So amazing.

 And his chest and body and even fingertips glowed, despite chilly wind: that was his boyfriend, being a genius.

 Leo—clearly still shaken from the crash—staggered to the body of that adversary, that equal. The hero. Injured—badly so, a skewer of metal through his stomach—and bleeding, unconscious. At his mercy.

 Leo, in character, dropped to both knees. Looked at the hero; looked at the blood; looked at the rocks, his own hands, the pouch at his belt that held poisons, communications arrays, sonic weapons. They’d fought each other and challenged each other and taunted each other for years, in the course of the show, on and off: a relationship fraught and crackling with intensity.

 Leo’s character had studied energy transference, vital forces, psychic powers. He put out a hand. Rested it on the dying hero’s chest. No other characters, no companions, had stirred yet, though they would momentarily, on cue.

 Special effects wizardry would transform the moment, Sam knew. But he looked at Leo’s face: calm, making a choice, no hesitation.

 The wounds should fade. Vanishing. Healing.

 Transferred.

 They did not cut—the visual effects would handle the vanishing—but let the scene play out. The hero gasped in a breath, woke, sat up easily. Took in the situation with rapid-fire intellect. Spun to glare at Leo’s villain, who was now leaning back insouciantly against a broken piece of spaceship, arms crossed.

 Leo just smiled. The hero demanded, “Don’t just stand there, be useful!” and pushed himself to his feet. “Shouldn’t expect anything else, should I…”

 “No.” Leo didn’t move. “Why would I help you?”

 “You’re still here. Why didn’t you run?”

 “Perhaps my plan requires my presence. Shouldn’t you assist your minions?”

 “They’re companions!” But he was, even as he scowled at Leo some more. “Just stay out of the way.”

 Leo gave an ironic small salute. The main cast pretended to come to, waking up, groaning, checking on each other. Discussions began happening: where they’d landed, repairs, what to do next.

 Leo, with no one paying him any mind, slid a hand inside his shirt, between fasteners. His fingers came away red; he looked at them for a moment, then buttoned his coat, dark and tight, over the shirt. Hiding the wound. Concealing the layers of emotion.

 Sam, watching, felt his heart speed up. Of course it was the character, of course he felt for the character—but it was Leo too, his Leo, beautiful and wounded and exhausted, and nobody’d ever know how much he’d just done, the pain he’d taken, for a man who’d sworn to fight him…

 Leo’s face was aware of all of that, in that second. And Sam, despite knowing it was fictional, ached for him. Hated everyone who’d ever made him lonely. Loathed the blood on Leo’s hand, under the shirt.

 Leo looked up as the good characters all turned his way, and said brightly, “Come to a glorious optimistic decision, have we?”

 “Be quiet for once,” grumbled the angriest of the companions, “prisoners don’t get to talk. We’re taking you to the Time Authority.”

 “Ah, a plan. I shall look forward to seeing how you’ll manage it, with no working transport or communications.” Leo held out both wrists for binders, ironic. “Lead on.”

 They began to walk, just enough for the shot; Leo stumbled. Caught himself, bound hands lingering against a chunk of ship for support, for an instant. “Sorry, just a rock, terribly treacherous, aren’t they?”

 “You’d know about treacherous,” said the hero, quiet and frustrated and not knowing anything of what had happened moments ago; and he caught Leo’s shoulder. “Come on.”

 They took a few more steps. And cut there.

 Sam sagged into his chair, worn out by emotion. And he was only watching. Christ.

 They did it all again, and again. Four times. Five. Leo was brilliant every time: dry and clever with dialogue, and silently profoundly compassionate, in a complicated and selfish way, when kneeling beside his adversary. Transferring the injury, letting himself bleed for the man he loved and battled and hated and was drawn to; and saying nothing about it, knowing they’d all believe he simply didn’t want to lift a finger.

 Six times, and they were done; they’d have a bit of a break while moving to the next location, the corner of a fortress in black rock and whipping winds. Leo wriggled hands out of prop binders, waved at cast-mates, and ran over to Sam. “What’d you think?”

 “I think you’re amazing.” He caught both of Leo’s hands, laughing; he leaned into the kiss. “So much emotion. Your expression—I mean, wow.”

 Leo’s whole face brightened. He loved compliments, and rarely believed them, Sam knew: a hell of a lot of self-doubt hid under on-set pranks and kitten-adoption events. “It worked, then? I did think it went well, but then again I never feel like I know for sure. And it’s been some time since my last appearance. I was worried about getting back into the rhythm.”

 “I felt it all. And I’m not even caught up with the show.” Sam glanced at Leo’s fingers, at a smudge of fake blood. Some of it had soaked through his shirt, and the coat. “It felt…real.”

 And for a second, a split second, it did. He knew it wasn’t—he knew—but he’d said it aloud, and he could see the red, and he’d just watched Leo stumble and trip and stagger with pain, and it’d looked so…

 “Oh, Sam.” Leo’s hands tightened around his, grip made of fingerless gloves and affection. “Thank you for the lovely praise, and I shall try not to let it feed my ego? What does one feed an ego? Is it like an eagle? Sort of carnivorous, and rather dangerous? I expect it could be, if one pushes the metaphor. Would you like tea?”

 Sam, who knew exactly how Leo’s brain worked by now—the steps might not be obvious but made perfect sense, from bashful deflection to silly word-association to surprisingly insightful philosophy to making sure other people were taken care of and well-fed, both in terms of comfort and tea—said, “I love you, you know.” He did.

 “I love you, and I love it when you say nice things to me.” Leo batted eyes at him, long-lashed and weightless. That was a joke, one that covered up absolute sincerity. “I’m glad I managed to make it believable. I’m obviously not at all presently being skewered by a spaceship section, not even a magically transferred invisible one, so it’s a bit difficult to act, in that sense.”

 “Yeah,” Sam said. “I’m glad you’re not being skewered.” He held Leo’s hand; they wandered toward craft services and a tea break, over scattered rocks, through slicing wind. Sam’s own coat was cozy and thick; he nearly asked whether Leo wanted it. That outfit couldn’t be very warm.

 A personal assistant ran up. Thrust a blanket, large and woolly, Leo’s way. Leo took it and managed to transform it into a swooping fashion statement, a bundle of plaid and protection, and thanked her as she bounced off to continue blanket-deliveries elsewhere. Sam relaxed a little more.

 Leo said, watching his face, “They do keep us warm, you know.”

 “I know.”

 “Are you having thoughts about ways we might warm up back at the hotel? Scented oils in a bathtub? A massage? Fabulous sex while I give you a massage in the bathtub with scented oils?”

 A passing pair of extras, dressed for guard duty at the planetary fortress, froze mid-step and turned wide eyes Leo’s direction. Leo put up a hand and wiggled fingers, a wave. “I’ll see you in a few moments, and you can menace me with those laser spears! Looking forward to it!”

 The taller extra opened his mouth, closed it, and managed, “Us too!” Leo beamed, saluted them, and kept walking.

 “You’re not actually going to die, though,” Sam said. Leo’s fingers were still too cold, in his. He despised the invention of fingerless gloves. “I mean, on the show. They love bringing you back. Though—are you allowed to tell me? Don’t, if you’ll get in trouble.”

 “You and I are such different people,” Leo said cheerfully, and stopped walking just to kiss him. “I love spoilers. I love knowing everything. Especially when no one else knows. But, sadly, it’s not a secret, at least not here on set. No, I’m decidedly not going to die. He’ll choose to let me go. So I can show up again later on. Everybody lives. It’s marvelous.”

 “I like that,” Sam said. “Everybody lives. It’s a good ending.”

 “Even the villain of the story,” Leo said. “Yes.”

 “You’re not the villain. Antagonist, yeah. Anti-hero. But not a villain.”

 “Really?”

 “You save people. Yeah, it’s what you want too, it’s because you need him alive, you’re obsessed, all that. But you still save him, and then you help him, because you know he won’t leave his crew behind, and you want him to be…not happy, exactly, but…out there. Free. For you to find again. So, yeah. Not a villain.”

 “Yes,” Leo said, “yes. That’s what I—thank you. For that.” His eyes were green and brown and pleased as spring.

 “I get to give you a massage later,” Sam said. “And warm you up. You know. While you recover from magically transferred skewerings.” I love you, he meant. I want you warm and happy, underneath me, on top of me, whichever you want, as long as you’re here and laughing and probably making terrible jokes about the size of someone’s laser spear, in bed. I’ll make tea after, if you want. That blend that reminds you of home.

 “All of that sounds splendid,” Leo agreed, clutching a fold of blanket as it started to slip, other hand still in Sam’s. The wind tugged at his hair, ruffling dramatically spiked blond strands. “You know how much I love your hands on me. All over. Every…inch of me.”

 Sam had to grin. Leo Whyte, he thought again. His Leo. Finding a way for Sam to fuss over him, guessing Sam might need to affirm that every last bit of red was only fake, just in case, just to know; and then flipping it all into a sex joke. Ridiculous. Adorable. Perfect.

 He said, “Sounds like a plan, then. I love all your inches.”