#so many good quotes and moments that punched me

[suhnshinehaos]

“ on love, friendship, and jane austen ”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷   SYNOPSIS.  yn and hansol. hansol and yn. the inseparable duo. one name cannot come without immediately being followed by the other. a friendship that has stood the test of time. yn falls in love more times than they could count. hansol has stood by their side through every single one of those times. yn loves quoting jane austen. and hansol? well, hansol loves yn. 

PAIRING.  vernon x gn!reader

GENRES.  university au, fluff, angst, childhood friends to ???, pining, yearning, so much pining- i am so sorry.

CONTAINS.  swearing, food + alcohol mentions, and a bunch of out of context austen quotes.

MENTIONS OF / FEATURING.  mingyu, minghao, chan, seungkwan, soonyoung, and jihoon. 

WC.  4.3k

A/N.  yes, i saw netflix’s persuasion. yes, it made the austen lover in me cry (in the worst way). yes, i wrote this to cope. 

i. persuasion

“I am half agony, half hope,” you groan, plopping yourself down on the bean bag next to Hansol’s. There’s a pout etched onto your face, soon covered by one of the pillows that adorned the his bed. 

Hansol paid no attention to your muffled screams, eyes still trained on the flat screen TV in front of him. His fingers moved frantically on the controller in his hands, blocking out your sounds of agony with the upbeat 8-bit melody of whatever fighting game he chose to procrastinate from packing for university. 

Which of course, pissed you off. 

Throwing the pillow towards him, you drawl out his name in the hope of getting his attention, “Hansoooool, yoohoo! Am I talking to the air over here?”

The pillow gently hits the side of his face, “Alright, alright. Message received, just let me finish this round.” 

You leaned back, picking at the loose thread that hung on your shirt. A quiet hum escapes your lips, slightly overpowered by the sounds of grunts, the backing music, the punches and kicks, and eventually the victorious announcement that he had won that round. Hansol lowers the volume and turns his attention to you, 

“Okay- why are you half angry, half soap?”

There’s a teasing tone that enveloped his words, one that let you know that he had heard you perfectly the first time around. Even as you rolled your eyes and hit his shoulder in annoyance, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a small smile as he waited for your response. 

“First of all, it’s half agony, half hope. You know this,” you stressed, rubbing your fingers on your temple in an attempt to ease the headache that creeped into your system. He knows of your love of the novelist, and you’ve made him watch the 1995 movie adaptation of Persuasion more times than either of you could count. Not to mention, it’s one of her most popular quotes. It’s practically impossible for him to misquote or mishear, confirmed by the low chuckle that left his lips.

His hands go up in mock defense, “Hey, for all I know you could have turned into a soap-human hybrid and you’re angry about it.”

“God, what goes on inside your head?” 

There’s a sense of genuine bewilderment in your question, most of the time you really don’t know what’s going on inside his head, or how he strings together the words that moved past his lips. 

But if you really must know, in that moment he was thinking of how cute you looked in one of his hoodies. The one he left behind when he had come over. He didn’t intend on leaving behind, but he’s glad that he did. You wore it like it was yours, and instead of telling you that he liked how it looked on you, he chose to shrug his shoulders.

You shook your head, aware that the conversation would lead nowhere if you chose to press further, “Did you know Mingyu came back for the summer?”

“Really?” Hansol raised his brows. 

Your best friend was many things, but he was not an actor. Nor a very good liar. You saw it in the exaggerated tone of surprise and shocked expression. 

“You knew. Didn’t you?” You huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Hansol drops the facade almost immediately, “I figured you’d find out soon enough.”

“He came over today, said we should catch up and hang out and stuff.” You sighed, shoulders slumping forward at the memory of Mingyu on your front porch, arms wide open and expectant smile on his face.

He catches the change in your demeanor, the uncertainty that coated your words, “I’ve seen this film before, Yn. I know how this ends.”

Hansol took your silence as an invitation to continue, “He did that last year before he went off to university. Mingyu never defined your relationship, but treated you like you were his significant other. But as soon as autumn came, he stopped contacting you. What makes you think that won’t happen again?”

“What if this time’s different?” You knew you could always count on him to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t help but the several years of love and adoration win for long enough to ask that question. 

“Half hope,” Hansol mumbled, more to himself than to you. 

“Sol, can’t I have this summer?”

He sighs at the nickname, “You do you, Yn. Just take care of your heart.”

“You already do that for me.” You playfully nudge his side with your own, perking up at his approval.

But you don’t listen to me, his mind screams in rebuttal, though he doesn’t voice it out. Instead he nudges you back, “Just keep in mind that we’re also leaving for university in the fall. Miles away from him.”

“I know. Thanks, Sol.” 

“Anytime, Yn.”

Hansol was right. You’d eventually come to find that he usually was.

ii. northanger abbey

“Be careful, it’s hot.” Hansol places the pot of instant ramen in the middle of the wooden table. The digital clock on the wall lets him know it was half past ten pm, and he had a class at seven in the morning. But who was he to refuse you?

Not when you showed up at his dorm in tears, on a night where he knew you’d be going out on a date. No, he simply let you in without another word. He leads you to your seat on the dining room table, and he starts boiling some water, and he grabs the bowl you liked to use whenever you came over, and he reaches towards a certain corner of his kitchen cabinet, the one where he kept your favorite brand of ramen. 

He watched as your hands shook, attempting to place some of the noodles on your bowl. Unfortunately, they could only seem to slip out of the metal material of your chopsticks. Hansol sighed, taking your bowl and filling it to brim with warm soup and noodles.

“You wanna talk about it or do you want to sit and eat in silence?”

“Sit and eat in silence seems good for now.”

And he nods, obliging by grabbing a serving for himself. You always appreciated that about him. The way he understood. The way he never pressed further unless it was needed. For the next fifteen minutes, the walls of his dorm room heard nothing but the sound of comfortable silence. Interrupted by the occasional quiet slurp or heavy sigh. Broken by the utterance of a single name. 

“Minghao.”

“What about him?”

“He called whatever we have off.”

Your bowl is empty, and all your attention was now on him as he processed the information you had just laid out. Hansol nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing, and you could practically see the gears in his head turning as he thought of something comforting to say. His lips part, but you cut him off before he could let out a single syllable.

“Can’t really be shocked. He said he was too busy for anything serious, I was the one who pushed for the dates. I thought it wouldn’t do me any harm, but I had already fallen by the third date. Minghao knew that and decided to break it off.”

“You fall in love way too easily.”

Hansol said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And in a way, it was. You never thought you’d get over Mingyu, but as soon as Minghao walked into your arts appreciation elective, you knew you were done for. And Hansol, who begrudgingly took that class with you, knew it too. 

“Tell me I’m an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Hansol finishes the last of his ramen, the words escaping his lips as nonchalantly as ever. You couldn’t help but feel a slight pang in your chest at his lack of hesitation. A frown made its way onto your features, and you made very little attempt to hide it. 

You scoffed, “Well, you didn’t have to actually ag-”

“But it’s alright.” He cuts you off before you could even finish, “Everyone’s an idiot when it comes to love.”

“Even you, Sol?” You challenged, leaning forward towards him.

“Even me.” He responds, but before you could interrogate him on what he could mean by that, he continues his train of thought, “You’re an idiot and you fall in love way too quickly and you give the entirety of yourself to the people you love even though you haven’t known them long. That’s why you get hurt.” 

“I have no notion of loving people by halves.”

Hansol raised a brow, “Damn, that’s deep.”

A quick silence fell between the two of you as you tried to process his statement. 

“Dude,” An offended scoff escaped your lips, “Northanger Abbey!”

He laughed at the exasperation in your voice, the way it raised ocataves higher at his inability to recognize the line that you had just quoted. Your pout only grew deeper with each chuckle that escaped his lips, and he’s unable to help himself from employing a teasing tone of voice,

“Well, how the fuck am I supposed to know that? I don’t read Austen.”

You could only roll your eyes in response, “But I’ve made you watch enough adaptations, you should recognize these by now!”

Though you tried to act annoyed, there’s a smile that threatened to form on your lips. But he knows that it wouldn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You’re right, wanna watch one now? Refresh my memory.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

You could have gone home after that date. Could have cried yourself to sleep. But you’re glad you made the cab driver do a last minute left turn towards Hansol’s dorm instead of straight to your apartment. Because instead of the sobs that could have escaped your lips, what left is every single line of the 2007 adaptation of Northanger Abbey. With Hansol watching you out of the corner of his eye, unable to fully place his attention on the movie that played.

iii. sense and sensibility  

“Well, don’t you look all fancy.” You teased as soon as the call connects and his features take up almost the entirety of your screen. Hansol’s dressed much nicer than he usually was : crisp button down, expensive looking jacket, and hair neatly styled. It’s a look you’re not quite used to seeing, but you weren’t going to go around complaining either.

“Good morning, Yn.” Hansol greeted, ignoring your compliment entirely with a roll of your eyes. 

“Good evening, Hansol.” You replied, taking one last sweeping look at his appearance, “Getting ready for your date?”

He scratched the back of his head, eyes darting to various areas in his room instead of his laptop, “I, uh- I actually just got back.” 

“What?!”

You almost choked on your orange juice, eyes growing wide at his revelation. You blinked back at him, unable to comprehend his statement. What the hell does that mean? Doing the math in your head and noting the 13 hour time difference, it would only be 8 pm where he was. If anything, he should just be preparing to leave.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” Hansol chuckled, “Also, you know there are other ways to make the most of my semester abroad than trying to find love, right?”

“It’s just,” you pouted, unable to stop yourself from feeling bad for your best friend. In the years you’ve known Hansol, he’s never mentioned anything about anyone he was interested in. He was always out helping you, and taking care of you. When he mentioned a classmate of his asked him out, you couldn’t help but feel excited for him. He deserved love just as much as you did, maybe even more so. 

No, not maybe. He does. Which is why you tried your hardest to ignore the slight sting that came when he mentioned going out on a date. 

“Just what?”

His question brought you back. Back to his awaiting gaze and curious tone. You swallowed up the selfishness, the tiny leap of giddiness at the thought of his date not working out the way he thought it would, and gave him a sad smile instead. 

“I just wish it worked out for you, Sol.”

“I wish it did too.”

The words escaped his lips in a quiet sigh. The weight on his chest is heavy, only growing heavier with each second you spent looking at him with nothing but sympathy in your gaze. A slight feeling of guilt creeps into his system, he always knew his feeble attempt to move on would end up in failure. His heart didn’t belong here, it belonged with you. 

“Well, you know what people say, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.”

“Is the people in question Jane Austen?”

You don’t even try to hide the shock that graced your face, mouth parting and eyes alight with excitement, “You-”

“You’re always quoting Austen.” Hansol shook his head, but there’s a twitch in the corner of his mouth. As if what he said were only a half truth. 

Your features drop for just a moment, “Well, she’s right! And where there’s expectations, there’s also disappointment.”

“Is that also Austen?” 

“Nope! That one’s a Yn original.”

Before he could respond, Hansol hears an alarm go off. He watched as you hurriedly finish the rest of your breakfast, an unending list of swear words leaving your lips in quick succession. 

“Ah! I have to go, Sol! Got a class in a few minutes- I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, oka-”

He doesn’t even get the chance to say a proper goodbye, the call disconnecting before he could even utter your name. Hansol sighed, the air in his apartment grows much too stuffy for his liking, so he finds himself opening up a window. 

The cool night air envelops him, the moon welcomes his worries as he mulls over the familiar quote : to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect. Austen was right. Hansol always wished for more. He wished you’d notice how he felt. He wished that you’d feel the same way. He couldn’t help himself from throwing a penny in each wishing well he passed by, or closing his eyes when the clock struck 11:11. 

Hansol always expected more. You’ve known each other for years for crying out loud. Isn’t there a point where both of you would finally end up together?

But you were right too.

Expectations also brought disappointment. That night, when you only showed sympathy — and perhaps even, pity — at his date not going well, instead of hopefulness or excitement, Hansol felt nothing but disappointment. 

iv. pride and prejudice 

Even in the sea of people that flooded the airport, you recognized him almost immediately. You sprint to him, with a grin so wide that your cheeks hurt. You missed him.

And he knew it too. Especially in the way you practically tackled him in a hug, the impact of your arms engulfing him causing him to take a few steps backwards. His hands let go of the suitcases they held, melting into your touch. 

“You’re not allowed to leave me ever again.”

“Too bad, I was actually just about to catch another flight.”

You hit his chest with the palms of your hand, “Shut up.”

The car ride back to campus was filled with small talk, unusual for the two of you, but it seemed customary to ask about how his flight was, and if he was seated in front of some annoying kid who wouldn’t stop kicking the back of his seat. Which, funnily enough, he was.

“It was so annoying, I was genuinely ready battle the kid in fucking Minecraft or something just to get him to stop.”

You shook your head as he ended his little rant with an annoyed sigh, “Could you even battle people in minecraft? All I do is make little houses.”

“Is that what you were up to while I was gone?” Hansol asked, tracing invisible shaped on the passenger seat window.

You’re unable to help the smile that played on your lips at the sight of him. It reminded of you of your younger years, the ride home from elementary school, taking turns drawing on the bus windows for the other to guess. You let your gaze linger for a couple of seconds before turning them back on the road ahead, “Mhmm. I’ll show you around when you get settled back in.”

“Cool.” He gives you a toothy grin before pointing at the window, “Wanna guess what I drew?”

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t paying attention!” You huffed, “We are not pla-”

You’re interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, both you and Hansol sneaking a glance at the caller id : Chan. Hansol raises a brow at you, before his features turn into one of confusion when you decline the call. You knew exactly what he was about to ask. 

“I’m tutoring him.” 

“So why’d you decline the call? What if he wants to ask you something?”

“Because he’s been dropping hints that he likes me and I think he’s going to ask me out on a date.” 

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t like him. I like someone else.”

“Oh shoot, really? Have you made a move on the person that you do like?”

“No, because every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason.”

The exchange happens quicker than either of you could process, not a single shred of hesitation in his questions and your replies. But this is the response that makes Hansol turn to you in surprise. With his head tilted to the side, and his mouth slightly parted, “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend? Were you possessed by the spirit of Mary Bennett?”

“This one’s different, okay? I can’t be as careless as I used to be.”

Hansol nodded in understanding, not pressing further. You would tell him when you were ready. You always did when you had your sights set on someone. But just how different could this one be? How did he capture so much of your attention that you didn’t even notice his mention of an Austen character?

He doesn’t want to dwell on it further, for fear that he’d only break his own heart in the process. Instead he asks,

“That cafe by your apartment building? Still open?”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t ask, too afraid to give a truthful answer. You offer him a warm smile, “Mhmm. Called ahead and made sure they saved you your favorite. We can stop by before I drop you off.”

Just like that, the subject is dropped. 

“I have a new playlist I want you to listen to, I call it ‘songs to listen to in the car on the drive back from the airport with yn’.”

You laugh before handing him the aux cord. Music and comfort and familiarity fill the air as you fall back into old habits. Him, tracing little drawing on the window, humming along to the songs he’s chosen, occasionally stealing glances for your reaction to them. You, hands firmly on the wheel, taking mental notes of the songs you liked, trying to guess just what he was drawing. In his semester abroad, you feared that scenes like this would fade away in your memory.

But now he was finally home. And in a way, you felt like you were too. 

v. emma  

Seungkwan insisted on having a small get together in honor of Hansol’s return, which really made it seem like he was gone for years instead of just a few months. Nevertheless, you and Hansol agreed at the mention of it being held at Seungkwan’s place. Neither of you were really in the mood to clean anything up should it be held at yours or his. 

The five of you are seated in a circle on the floor, various bags of chips, cans of beer, and bottles of soju placed in the middle. Jihoon narrows his eyes at you, gaze trained on the glass of water you held in your hand.

“I have a class tomorrow morning.” You shrugged your shoulders, taking a sip from the glass just to tease everyone a tiny bit, “Mmmm- refreshing.”

“This is refreshing too, you know?” Soonyoung, seemingly the drunkest one there, asks as he swings around the half-emptied bottle of soju that he held in his hand. His words slur the tiniest bit, but not enough that you wouldn’t understand what he was saying, “Anyways, Vernon- meet anyone special over there in America?” 

Soonyoung winked, or at least attempted to, a dopey smile plastered on his features before leaning towards Hansol. 

“Nah, not really.”

Soonyoung nods, “I get it. You can’t move from Yn. I get it, I get it. You love ‘em too much, I get it.”

And it’s like the world stops spinning. 

The tension is thick, Soonyoung’s voice is loud enough that it cut through whatever girl group song Seungkwan was playing through his bluetooth speakers which, as luck would have it, ran out of battery a few seconds after Soonyoung’s revelation. 

It’s silent. Way too silent. Everyone’s gaze flickers back and forth between you and Hansol, but both of you could only look down at your drinks. 

He could have chalked it up to Soonyoung being drunk and spouting absolute nonsense. But Hansol found himself completely and utterly frozen, like the air had just gotten knocked out of his lungs. He knew there was truth to Soonyoung’s statement, and while he never explicitly told any of his friends about the true extent of his feelings for you, they all knew regardless. 

The silence is briefly broken by the sound of a fake cough from Jihoon, his mouth parts to say something. Possibly an attempt to relive the awkward, and frankly unbearable, tension that had fallen on the group, but not a single word manages to come out as his lips press into a thin line.

You managed to find your voice, looking to Seungkwan and avoiding Hansol’s gaze entirely, “I think I’m going to need some air.” 

“Yeah, me too actually.”

Seungkwan frantically nods, leading the two of you to a glass door that that led to a small balcony. He draws the curtain to give the two of you some privacy.

Jihoon hits the back of Soonyoung’s head as soon as Seungkwan returned to their small circle.

“Cut the act. I know you’re not as drunk as you say you are.”

“What the hell was that?” Seungkwan whispered, but anyone could tell there was anger in his words. 

Soonyoung rubs the spot that Jihoon had hit, “Listen. They’re going to end up thanking me for this. I can feel it. We’ve always known that Vernon liked Yn, and I have a feeling that Yn has finally realized that their love for our Nonie goes beyond friendship.”

“You’re doing this based on a hunch?” Jihoon asked, clearly exasperated and taking another swig of beer.

“If one of them comes out crying, you’re doing the comforting.” Seungkwan mumbled, hoping that everything works out for the best.

~

“Is it true?”

You and Hansol lean on the balcony railing, your arms barely brushing against the other’s as both of you looked out into the clear night sky. A cool breeze blows between the two of you, sending chills up your spine, somehow exacerbating the tension that lingered between the two of you.

“It is.”

There was no point in denying it anymore. Well, at least, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life playing pretend. Hansol was tired of doing so. Nobody ever told him how exhausting suppressing everything would be. He loves you. It’s an undeniable fact, any attempt at playing it off as untrue would only come off as pathetic. 

“What? Sol, I-” Your mouth becomes dry, but your eyes threaten to well up, “I never thought… you never said anything, I couldn’t have known, I-”

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Hansol cuts you off with familiar words; in fact, too familiar. When it all sunk in, when everything clicked, you swore you could hear the sound of your own heartbeat. It’s ringing in your ears, practically deafening. You turned to face him so quickly, you feared your neck would snap. There’s a small, serene smile on his face. Unmistakable. It’s a smile that held just the tiniest bits of pride.

“How did you?”

“I took a class on Austen when I was away. Missed you that much.” He finally turned to face you, shrugging it off like it wasn’t a big deal. 

But it was. It definitely was to you.

Hansol has always been filled with love for you. He loved you ever since he knew what the concept of romantic love was. 

You were different. 

Your love trickled; drip by drip, bit by bit. It happened with every bowl of instant ramen he made you, each time he begrudgingly watched an Austen adaptation, with every new playlist he shared, each heartfelt advice, with every random facetime call when he was away because he saw something that reminded him of you. You never noticed until you found yourself outside his dorm room, ready to tell him about your day, disappointed when you realized that he was oceans away from you. 

And tonight was the drop that spilled everything over.

Perhaps you could have found another Austen quote in response. Or maybe you could have just said those three little words instead. But you did neither. 

You had always been bolder, so you simply pressed your lips onto his. Because you loved him. And he pulled you closer and kissed you back. Because he loved you too. 

Most ardently.

from reese, with love <3 been a while since i wrote for svt on this blog and been a while since i wrote a proper one shot, so forgive me for being a lil rusty >_< either way, i hope you enjoyed reading this ! id genuinely love to know what you think ! hope you are all doing well and taking care of yourselves :))

yes, ik most ardently is a p&p movie reference but shhhh

#seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon oneshot #vernon fic

[the-traveling-poet]

OH MY GOSH! That modern!au was so beautiful???😭😭 I’m not a sucker for moderns au cause I like to keep things as canon as possible but saying that I loved this would be an understatement. 🤩 Please write a pt 2?? 💕

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Phone Call

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After successfully arriving at the Cast Meet and Greet event a couple hours away from your quaint apartment, you were able to meet your idol at long last.

Though you had been awkward in greeting the man of your dreams, you planned to make up for ‘lost time’. With his phone number tucked securely in your phone’s contact list, you anxiously awaited the right moment to send that first text.

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Pairings: Actor!Levi x Fan!Reader

Warnings: modern!AU, language, fluff

Taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

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A/N: thanknyou so much Anon, and also AGREED. I’m not one for modern!AU aot fics, but the request kinda struck me and I thought ‘why not?’ And I’m content with how it turned out?? So I’m happy to do a follow up :3

I’m so sorry it took me forever!

Hope you enjoy pt. 2!

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Part 1 | Part 3

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That hour had passed you by surprisingly quickly, with how often you’d space out staring over the crowd of fans to fantasize your interaction with Levi Ackerman all over once more in your hazy mind.

Just what had happened? Your babbling and jumbled words, earning you a receipt of his own personal number??

The more you thought about it, you figured this had to be some grueling joke. It had to, right? This never happened outside of fiction. Perhaps he had given you a public number of his, and if you texted it you might just end up embarrassing yourself.

But the look he’d had in his eyes when he glanced up at you before signing those ten numbers under his signature onto the very paper he held…surely he wasn’t one for cruel practical jokes, right?

Tucking the paper away for now, you brought yourself back to the present as the interview began.

For the entirety of the event, you couldn’t keep the giddy grin from your face as your favorite actors and actresses posed as their beloved characters to answer popular questions across many social media platforms. They would quote the author’s original scrip for accurate answers, as well as adding their own personal takes on the topics as the character’s roles.

How could this event have been any more enthralling; you had thought, just before managing to meet the gaze of Levi from the back of the room. Your breath stuck in your throat once more as you quickly diverted your stare.

But upon hearing the man start to speak into his small microphone to answer some questions on a cue card he held, your gaze snapped back up in an instant to find him. You could listen to his voice all day and never tire of how husky and yet smooth he sounded. While the questions were indeed interesting, and provoked curiosity within every fan present, you found it hard to focus on the words.

You punched your thigh to make yourself concentrate less on the paper held securely in your hand, and more on the event you’d paid a good amount to come see.

The hours ticked by all too quickly, as much as you were anxious to get a chance to text Levi’s number. But finally the moment arrived when the cast all took a stand and thanked the audience for showing up.

Shaking hands grabbed at your belongings as you stood to clap alongside the hundred or so fans. The room was slow to clear, prohibiting you from leaving through the double doors just yet.

Realizing you’d be stuck in the exit line for some time, you let your anticipation get the better of you and pulled out your phone. You hesitated when the contact screen popped up, wondering just what you would say, should this in fact not have been a joke.

“Fuck it,” You whispered, hitting send.

Hey, Mr. Ackerman, this is Y/N from earlier. Loved getting to meet you today!

With a shaky sigh you pocketed your phone, fighting with your bag as you scanned the dispersing crowd. Your eyes naturally drifted back towards the interview table, watching the cast clear their things and be led back through a single door liking the back wall.

Surprisingly, Levi hadn’t departed yet. He stood beside two guards, arms folded and leaning casually against the table as they chatted.

You’d nearly looked away when his posture straightened. He pulled a thin black phone from his back pocket and unlocked it. You nearly lost your breath when he seemed to be reading the screen closely as his nimble thumbs ran across the lower half of the screen.

Daring to hope, you ducked down in the crowd slightly and checked the message you’d sent. And there at the bottom of the screen appeared a bubble icon.

Biting your lip, you were slightly saddened to see the line moving along. But now, you had a bit of a bounce to your step as you left the building and re-emerged back in the extensive parking lot.

You had to remind yourself to look away from your phone screen and watch for passing cars as you passed the walkway. Hastily unlocking your car, you slid inside and locked the door after you and picked up your phone.

I’m glad you enjoyed the event. But please, just Levi is fine. Seems you were anxious to test the validity of this number?

Who knows how long you sat there, shaking in your seat as your thumbs flew across the screen to form a response. But after some time discussing the event, Levi brought up the situation in which you hadn’t been able to say all you had wanted; what with the time limit per fan and your awkward stumbling.

With a burning face and shaking fingers you replied ‘yes’ to his suggestion for a quick call, as he had nothing left on his schedule after the interview, at least for a few hours.

You drove off with a tight grin, awkwardly taking the call once it rang. It was slow to begin with, you trying to be formal and Levi trying to convince you to just be yourself.

An hour into the drive home, you’d hardly recognized just how easy it had been to open up and ask the things you really wanted to know. He answered every question you had, to the best of your ability.

He never once sounded annoyed, nor distracted as the call progressed. In fact, he started asking you simple questions of his own.

Are you from around here?

No? Where at, then?

How damn long did you drive to get here?

When did you get into the show?

Why was my character your favorite? He’s kinda a dick.

All too soon you’d pulled into the lot outside your apartment, and bade him a hesitant goodbye. You’d have continued the call, if it hadn’t already been two hours of conversation and he had a shoot he had to attend for the company.

Offhandedly, he mentioned thinking on letting you have the first look how the photos would come out before he hung up, leaving you with an explosive feeling of butterflies in your gut.

Climbing the straits towards your room, you unlocked the door and flipped onto the couch with a barely contained scream.

You were living a reality you hardly thought feasible, how could you not be over the moon?

Just when you’d thrown your phone to the side some time later to grave dinner, your phone buzzed one last time.

*Attachment : 4 images.*

Never thought I’d give my number to a fan. Coffee at Highland Cafè around 2 o’clock next week? That’s closer to you.

#lynn’s requests #lynn’s oneshots #modern!au #modern! aot #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk #aot #aot x reader #aot fluff #aot x y/n #aot x you #levi ackerman #modern! levi ackerman #actor! levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x gn!reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman fluff #aot levi #shingeki no kyoujin levi #attack on titan levi #levi x gn!reader #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #levi snk

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday lovely readers :) I love any episode with Lucy/Tamara in it. Add in Tim? Makes an amazing thing even more so. I love this one for delving into Tamara’s past a bit, how Tim helps Lucy without a thought, and the bond between Lucy and Tamara. Such good one let’s get going.

4x11 End Game

We begin our episode with Tamara and Lucy. It’s clear Lucy has been up all night researching. Tamara asks why? Lucy tells her legal research. That kid Tyler she cited out last episode ended up stealing from a liquor store. He felt stressed to pay back the dealer he lost product for. Unfortunately he gave the store owner a heart attack. Luckily the owner is out and ok.

She’s been up all night trying to finds ways for the state to show him leniency since the owner is fine. I love both of them calling Chris the ‘clown’ from the DA’s office. Might be my new name for him. Chris the clown. It’s fitting. They have a lovely moment as Tamara refills her coffee and brings it to her. Saying this kid is lucky to have her backing him.

That she knows she was. Best thing she ever did was steal Lucy’s car. I mean it’s true haha I love Tamara being more open with Lucy. Showing how grateful she is that Lucy took a chance on her like she did. Tamara saying crime pays actually. In this case it does tbh. Heh Lucy says she’s cute when she walks away. It’s such an adorable mom/daughter open for them.

We see Mr. Clown shortly after Lucy arrives at the station. She is gloating that the store owner survived. Chris agrees with her that he’s happy she survived. Lucy questioning how true that is. She tries to get him to charge Tyler as a minor but Chris refuses of course. Schmuck. Lucy starts to tell him studies and he’s so condescending to her. Saying not to quote studies at him. I hate it so much. I dislike him greatly...

Tells her he will only charge him as a minor as long as he’s a CI for his crew. This is where Lucy really goes off on him. Both barrels and pulls no punches whatsoever. Chris is finding this amusing and I want to clock him. Calling her dramatic too. You don’t know her like that ya clown. So rude to say. Tim coming into the convo asking if everything is ok? I love that. Protective Husband is in the building.

The way she spins around to face Tim is hilarious. His face and posture LOL Lucy saying she can’t believe the nerve of him calling her dramatic. She sees his reaction and tells him don’t start. Haha Eric is the king of facial expressions. He doesn’t disappoint in the least here. His face conveying ‘ I didn’t say anything…’ Even though his body language is saying everything. Laughing so hard at his reaction.

Such a hubby move here. Doesn't say anything but she knows what that reaction means. HIs silence saying more than he ever could. He’s smart enough to know when not to engage her in a fight. Be more married you two please. Lucy is in full wifey mode here and my heart is so happy. Also my god the forearms/biceps. Phew lord. Love to have those wrapped around me like a blanket. There is just so much to love about this mini moment.

It’s the next part where we hit peak married vibes. Tim knowing her so damn well. Pinpointing why she is so friggin keyed up. Asking exactly how many cups of coffee she’s had this morning? God these two know each other so damn well. Lucy doesn’t lie and says she’s just going to apologize right now LMAO

Knowing how she’s going to be the rest of the shift for him. It’s so funny. I love her self awareness knowing she’s gonna be extra cause she’s hopped up on caffeine. Good thing Tim is actually is so very fond of it even though he’s exasperated at the same time hehe. She’s so cute I cannot.

Tim’s reaction to her reply is the best part. No one does the eye roll better than our guy. It’s so funny. It makes me laugh every single time. Lucy knows what she’s done and is just owning up it to ahha I love these two idiots so very much. Her saying it’s going to be a long day for him. Oh he’s well aware of that one my dear. I love them so much makes my heart hurt haha

Tim and Lucy are called to Lopez’s homicide. It’s a 18 year old girl killed and dumped. Tim is confused why Angela needed a sergeant. She tells them she didn’t. Just Lucy. Asking if she knows her? Lucy tells her no. Angela hands her the phone and says Tamara does. Pic of her and this girl as her Lock Screen. Hence them being looped in.

Cut to them retuning to her apartment. The marriage theme continues in this episode. Except it goes from sassy poking fun husband and wife. To very sweet and supportive husband for his wife. Being a sweet mom and dad tag team for Tamara in this moment. Which I adore so much.

Lucy is feeling lost and not sure how to handle this. You can tell as she enters the apt. She’s honest with Tim. Replies 'I don't know.' When he asks how she wants to handle it? Lucy tells him she’s done death notices before. But never for someone she cared about. Handling it as a cop vs as a roommate are different approaches. I love how Tim is watching her as she talks out her thoughts. Not judging her but wanting to support her. Knowing this is part of her process.

She is torn and Tim decides for her. Telling her just to be a friend and he’s got the cop part for her. I love this sfm. Letting her be the soft empathetic friend in this moment. That if she needed someone firmer or more business like to tap him in. Tim knows she wants to be the caring and soft one in this moment. Because he knows her so well. Wants to relieve her of the burden of being a cop right now. To let her just be the caring friend and if she needs a cop he will handle that portion for her.

It seems like such a small gesture that comes across as so much more. You can see Lucy visibly relax when he tells her this. Thanks him for this kindness. He has her back in more ways than one. I love their bond so much. Knowing exactly what the other needs in moments like this. He’s so soft for her I cannot handle it. Just being the best supportive work hubby he can be. Such growth makes my soul happy.

Gives Lucy a chance to relay the news to Tamara in the way she is most comfortable with. Solo in her room. It so sad to watch Tamara take in the news. Not believing Lucy at first or not wanting to really. Lucy confirming it by the phone that was found at the scene. Telling Tamara how sorry she was. I love Tim giving her this private moment alone with her. To be empathetic, caring and all the things she would need in this moment. Let her be Lucy her friend and roommate and not the cop.

Once they’re out of her room Tim is apart of the convo. Officially in cop mode now. Lucy asking if there was anyone her friend Becca was afraid of? Tamara says no but they hadn’t talked in 3 months. With school and her moving in they lost touch. Tim steps in and asks 'Any idea where she was crashing?' She tells them mostly the street, sometimes shelters, some families let you crash on the floor if they had room. Her last known suggestion is a darker one.

It's where we get a peak into Tamara’s past and it's grim. You can see it all over Lucy’s face as Tamara speaks. How her heart is breaking for her. Killing her to think she ever had to do ‘swiping’. Hitting her like a ton of bricks. You can see the pre-tears in her eyes from hearing all this. The protective mama in her wanting to hug and protect her. To never let her experience that ever again. Tamara can't even look at them while she explains it. Breaks my heart.

Tim can read Lucy like a book once they’re back in the shop. They’re talking about the men they found on Becca’s phone but her mind is elsewhere. He knows she’s upset and asks her if she’s okay? I’ll never be over this portion of his growth. Him actively engaging in personal stuff with her. Giving her his advice and caring. Being 100 percent genuine in all of it too. My damn heart. He’s also just so damn good with her. Just like she is for him. The shop where they supposedly leave their personal lives at the door is a rule that never really existed for them.

He provides such a comforting environment for her to share in here. I love him being the one to reach out for this. Lucy engaging right away with him. Voicing everything she was feeling about their convo with Tamara. How it worried her that Tamara knew right away about the swiping idea. Asking Tim’s opinion if he thinks she’s used it herself? If she gave that impression to him?

Tim doesn’t answer so much as shoot a question back. Asking if she’s ever mentioned it to her before? You can hear the hurt in her voice. See the pain in her eyes as she speaks. Telling Tim as close as they are she won’t talk to her about her past. I can see why Lucy would be hurt by this. I can also see why Tamara doesn’t want to talk about it. She probably feels shameful about some of what she did to survive. I can only imagine what she had to do pre-Lucy.

Tim’s reply is perfection. What I love most about it is that it’s coming from experience. At least that’s how it’s coming off to me. We all know how hard it was for Lucy to crack the nut that is Tim. How she scratched and clawed for him to open up to her. Tim had a painful past and lot of reasons to be closed off. But that didn’t stop Lucy from pursuing that relationship with him. It was slow but so very worth it. Tim telling her not to take it personally.

That it might just be hard for to open up to her. It’s not Lucy it’s Tamara's own stuff preventing her from doing so. Just like it was for Tim. Lucy kept knocking at that door till Tim answered. Now look at him. He shares things with her. Deeply personal things. Is giving her advice on her own personal life. Look how far we’ve come. It’s these moments I love the most. The ones that show us how damn far Tim has come. How far they have come as a pairing.

It’s unreal to watch and so rewarding. It’s why the slow burn works so damn well for them. We get moments like this. Where Tim sees she is upset, reaches out, and even relieves her worries. Also once again using his past experience to help her out. Knowing it was hard for him to start to open up with her. That took time for him too. Applying that to his advice for Tamara not opening up just yet. You can see she feels lighter after their talk. Nodding her head agreeing with his advice. Relieving her of her worries for the time being at least. Tim being every bit the supportive husband here and I love it sfm. The emotional intimacy between these at this point is off the charts amazing. *sigh* I love them so much.

They return to the station to watch interrogation. Lopez has one of Becca’s clip talk guys in the box. Angela comes right at him. Doesn't waste time after he admits he knows her. Saying she knows he used clip talk for sex. In exchange she got warm bed and a meal out of it. He is instantly defensive. Thinking he’s been brought in for something she did or said. Is an ass outright calling her crazy cause she’s homeless and possibly on drugs.

Lopez cuts him right off saying she’s dead. Asking where he was last night? He stumbles and says he has nothing to do with it. That he did see her for few minutes but his GF was coming over. (Classy SOB..) Angela asks what she wanted? He says hot meal, shower, place to stay. But told her to go cause his GF was on the way. I love the way Tim leans forward as they get to heart of his story. He continues on saying Becca threatened to tell his GF if he didn’t give her money.

Telling Lopez all he had was a 20 dollar bill on him to give her. After she left he said he noticed Becca swiped his Cerus Watch. Which he paid 10K for. Lopez following up saying he couldn’t file a police report or it would expose his secret. Lopez cycles back to our couple. Lucy telling her she didn’t have a watch on her body. That she either sold it or whoever killed her took it and did. Tim says they'll ask Tamara where they think it would be pawned.

We find Tamara catching up with her old life. Visiting with friends she knew. My guess is she felt guilty about not talking to Becca all these months. Wanting to reconnect to help herself grieve. One of her friends telling her how proud Becca was of her. That she missed her but was so happy to see her move on. It’s then we see Tim and Lucy pull up. They all get nervous and Tamara tells them they’re cool.

Lucy is in mom mode asking how she is? Tamara tells her it’s a lot to be back here. She is trying to put up a brave front. Pretend she’s ok. So she avoids saying anymore by asking if they found anything? They update her on the watch Becca took. Asking her if she know where she would pawn it? Love Lucy seeing her hesitancy and reassuring her it’s ok. Also not wanting to leave her there. In full mom mode I adore it. Not wanting to leave her there but not having much of a choice atm.

They head to the pawn shop Tamara suggested. Tim doesn’t mess around or mince words with the owner. Saying they’re looking for a stolen Cerus watch. The owner gets defensive and says they just come into his shop accusing him of this? Lucy comes right at him too.

A tag team of confidence and unity. I love it. Her reply is feisty af. ‘Of purchasing stolen property from homeless teenagers? We are accusing you of exactly that.’ Get em Lucy! Gah love them being this bad ass united front. This guy goes off on a rant how he’s a lifeline for these kids. Lucy shows him the pic of Becca. Tells him this watch is what got her killed. He sighs and pulls it out to show them.

Saying it was brought in yesterday and shows them who brought it in. It wasn’t Becca….it was the kid Tamara was visiting. The look of realization washes over them. That beautiful silent communication of theirs kicking in. A shared look of worry washing over them. Tim asking isn’t that Tamara’s friend? The one they just left her with...

We cut back to Tamara talking to him. Asking if he’s ok? He say no. She starts to apologize she hasn’t been around. We see Tim and Lucy racing to get back to her. Such great cinematography in this scene. Declan starting his confession and it flits back to a worried Tim and Lucy. They're trying to get back to her as soon as they can. You can see the panic/urgency written across both of their faces.

Declan tells her how Becca was going to go back to school. Use the watch to get her started with it. She wanted to be more like Tamara. He starts to get emotional saying she was going to leave him too. You can see the shift in Tamara as she see’s where this is going. How he mentions he tried to sneak the watch out. That she caught him and he pushed her and didn’t mean for her to hit her head like she did. It’s then Lucy and Tim roll up like the BAMFS they are. Lucy all but jumping out of the shop to get to Tamara.

Tim cuffing him immediately. Once he's secure Lucy turns to her asking her if is she’s ok? Not expecting the response that she gets. Tamara finally putting down her walls and being honest. That she isn’t ok and runs to Lucy for comfort. I love this hug and Tamara finally turning to Lucy and being vulnerable. Lucy’s reaction is so sweet as she holds her tight. Such a nice moment for them. Adding to that growing familial bond between them.

The clown catches Lucy on her way out. I hate writing about him but I also don’t love writing about Ashley either. But they are apart of this season thus in my reviews when I have to. Lucy is straight with him. Says she isn’t in the mood for anymore bad news. He tells her he cut a good deal for Tyler. That he won’t have to be a CI. Just 6 months in Juvie. Probation till 18.

Clearly trying to impress her with this deal. Because let’s be honest if he had his way that kid would’ve been screwed. He did this to get on her good side. To me Chris was always kinda clueless but a little manipulative as well. I.e. This deal to impress her. Never liked him or thought he was good enough to be in her presence let alone date her.

This scene is a good bookend to how the episode began with Tamara’s gratefulness. Except this ending portion is a lot more sincere. No jokes involved. Makes me emotional as she thanks Lucy for everything she’s given her. Tamara thanks her for helping her leave it all behind as well. That if not for her she could've ended up just like Becca. Their scenes are always so good. Thanking Lucy for getting her friend justice.

Lucy not taking credit for that. Saying she did that for her. It’s true she guided them most of the investigation. Without her tips and such it would’ve taken them so much longer. I love Lucy telling her she doesn’t need to worry about what could’ve been without her. That’s she’s safe now ❤️ This next bit is so good. Lucy bringing up talking about her time on the street.

Tamara telling her not right now. Lucy bringing up she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t even have to with her. Just someday talking to someone would be good. So it doesn’t sneak up on her. Because it will. She is not wrong...It did for me. I took too long to talk to someone myself. I had a random run in with a sweet old lady who was a client of mine. She commented on my earrings. Asking where I got them? I said my mom with no real emotions attached to it. She looked me in the eye and said ‘Your mother must love you very much.’ I wanted to cry because I wasn't sure how true that was.

I swallowed my complicated emotions and my racing thoughts. I thanked her. But it triggered something in me when I got back to my car and I cried. Because it brought up all the emotions and feelings I hadn’t talked about with my mom. I texted my baby sister about it. She told me it was time to seek some therapeutic help. I did and it's helped so very much. So Lucy is so very right if you don’t talk about it. Suppress it for too long it sneaks up on you.

This is such solid advice once again from Lucy. Therapy and talking it out does wonders for the soul. Because if you don’t It’ll eat at you slowly. Take away from your present. Such a lovely way to end the episode for them both. I always love me some Tamara/ Lucy eps.

~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

James and Nyla being cute af. I truly love them together. They work so well.

Also more cute James/ Wes moments about the pregnancy and such. I do love their bromance so.

#Caitlin Rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #waiting on s6 #winter rewatch #s4 #4x11 End Game #the rookie 4x11 #otp: doing my job #otp: you know me so well. too well. #otp: some things matter more. #otp: you did good #otp: you're nothing like him. #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie #eric winter #melissa o'neil #tim bradford x lucy chen #lucy x tim

[thiccpettybitch]

Sweet Sorrow - Ch. 1 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader

Phew, alright, I have to admit, this chapter was a bit of a struggle to write. My self-doubt and anxieties are having a go at me, and I can't help but feel like I rushed it a little. But you know what? I'd rather get it out there than keep overthinking it until I can quote it word for word.

I know it might be a bit confusing or jumbled right now, but I promise it'll get easier to understand as the story unfolds. There are so many good moments planned that I can't wait to share with you 😭

Today's been a self-doubt day for me, but hey, it happens. Now, let's talk about Sweet Sorrow, the spin-off of my baby Bitter Sweet. I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know what you think about it. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.

Also, I want to take a moment to say thank you so much for all the support. We've reached over 1000 likes and over 100 reblogs, and I'm incredibly grateful for every single one. Your likes, questions, comments, and asks truly make my day brighter. I can't say it enough – thank you all from the bottom of my heart!💖

(I’ve also gotten all your asks so don’t worry! Once the next chapter of Bitter Sweet is out, i will begin slowly releasing them as well! ty again, ilu all!)

Now, I'm going to take a deep breath and keep pushing forward with the story. With your support, I know I can make it even better, and I'm excited to see where this journey takes us.

Part 2

As you find yourself hurtling towards an inevitable end, you gaze upward, and there is Miguel, falling with you. His hand reaches out with desperate hope, as if trying to bridge the impossible distance between you. Despite his bloodied and battered state, he grits his teeth, calling out for you with a heart-wrenching cry. You don’t have the strength to call out for him, tears well up in your eyes, suspended in the air like tiny, glistening droplets, as you continue to fall.

You know he won't be able to catch you; the fall is too fast, the distance too great. However perhaps selfishly so, you still use the last of your strength to call out for him, begging him to save you.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Green Goblin appears, swooping in on his glider. He crashes into Miguel's side, sending him careening into another building. You close your eyes letting out another sob as you watch The Green Goblin looks down at you, his face twisted with malevolence. He gives you a small, taunting wave, relishing, before setting his sights on Spiderman, on Miguel.

Will it hurt?

As you plummet, the inevitable ground approaches, and you can't help but think that this is it. In a final desperate act, you call out Miguel's name, as if it's your way of making a lasting impact on the world. The prospect of death might be beyond your control, but no one can take away the memories of his name, his face, his smile, his touch, and his love. They will be the last thoughts in your mind before you touch the ground. Before you die.

With a loud gasp, the back of your jacket unexpectedly snags on a flag post, suspending you high above the ground. As you look down, the world spins around you, making your head swirl with dizziness. Panic takes hold, and you cry out in a desperate attempt to free yourself. The flagpole protests with creaks, and you find yourself trapped, unable to move without facing a deadly plunge. It's as if fate is playing one last cruel joke on you, leaving you helplessly suspended, caught between life and death.

---

Miguel's expression contorted with pain as the glider collided with him, forcing the air from his lungs in a pained grunt. Amidst the chaos, Osborn's sinister laughter echoed in his ears, fueling his determination. He mustered every ounce of strength, pushing himself up, his talons digging into the glider's metal.

‘’Miguel--!!’’

Rage and panic surged through him, driving Miguel to lash out. With a fierce punch, he thrust his hand through the metal, causing cables and sparks to fly, but he paid no mind to the chaos around him. Osborn cursed and fought back, trying to halt his advance. Fingers closed around Miguel's mask, but he didn't care anymore, not even as the mask was yanked off, and their eyes met. A roar escaped his lips as he smacked Osborn in the face, the broken glider sending the villain flying into a nearby building.

Despite his aching body, Miguel webbed onto two buildings simultaneously, propelling himself forward through the air. He ignored the pain, focused only on reaching his destination. Landing on the roof of the building where you had fallen, he scrambled up on all fours, rushing to the edge. Before he could react, a blinding light burst through the air, and he collided with a solid mass, sending him falling backward.

Looking up, Miguel froze in astonishment. Before him stood a large, futuristic-looking Spiderman, his face concealed behind a mask, yet the intensity of his gaze felt palpable. It was as if he was scrutinizing Miguel's very soul. But the urgency in your cry brought him back to the present. Determined to reach you, he rose to his feet, ready to dash over, only to be halted by the other Spiderman's outstretched hand, signaling him to stop.

"Don't kid," the man's voice resonated with a deep yet strangely familiar tone.

"What- ¡Bastardo! ¡Fuera de mi camino!" Miguel practically spat, his frustration boiling over as he tried to move past the other Spiderman. But his defiance was met with an iron grip on his suit, forcing him back to the ground with a powerful slam. Despite his own strength, Miguel found himself overpowered as the other Spiderman held him down effortlessly with just one arm.

Rage surged through him as he yelled in frustration, attempting to push the man off, but to no avail. The other Spiderman responded by slamming him back down, now using both arms to maintain control. Their faces were inches apart, and the intensity of the moment was almost suffocating.

"Listen to me!" the other Spiderman growled; his voice urgent. "I can save her! But you have to listen to me; I don't have much time!"

Miguel's eyes locked onto the stranger's face, wide with unfiltered rage. Their attention was momentarily drawn to the ledge by the sound of a creaking pole and your desperate cries.

"Hijo de puta! Get off me, I’ll rip your head off!" Miguel yelled in frustration, but his defiance only resulted in another punishing slam into the roof, leaving him gasping for breath.

As if by some futuristic mechanism, the man's mask suddenly dissolved before Miguel's eyes, leaving his face fully exposed in an instant. He froze, staring up in pure shock.

"Yeah well, good luck with that, kid," Miguel looked up at the older version of himself, utterly speechless and shocked.

"¡Escúchame!" The older man's voice echoed with intensity, his crimson eyes locking fiercely with Miguel's brown ones.

"Even if you save her now, she'll be in danger again, maybe later today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next shocking week. It doesn't matter! She'll keep facing death over and over!" Miguel shook his head, about to protest, but he was forcefully pushed back against the roof, the pain shooting through him.

"SHUT UP!" the older version of himself shouted, cutting off any further objections.

"She is destined to die! Because of you! Because of who you are, because of who WE are! But I can save her… I can save her life, you understand?’’ Miguel gazed up at the man, still in shock and pain, his eyes glazing over as he looked toward the ledge of the building.

"I can save her. But she can never see you again. She will be safe with me; she can have a life with me, but only if I take her with me. You have to let her go." The older version of himself pressed him down before rising and leaning over Miguel, hovering just above him, his finger pointing directly at his face.

"You go over there now, you save her?" He pointed towards the edge. "She dies. And there is NOTHING I can do about it. You have to make a choice, right now." Miguel swallowed hard, his eyes glossing over as he looked at the ledge and then back at the older version of himself.

"I…" Miguel hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

"CHOOSE, NOW!" The older Miguel barked, his teeth showing in a fierce display of impatience.

"I… Save her! I love-" Miguel's voice trembled as he looked up at the older version of himself. To his surprise, the man's expression softened slightly. In that fleeting moment, they shared a connection. Miguel blinked, and just like that, the mask formed back over the older man's face, concealing his emotions once more. He stood tall, turning away from Miguel, leaving him sitting there.

"I'll keep her safe. Tienes mi palabra," the man said, glancing briefly over his shoulder before leaping off the side of the building.

Miguel remained sitting there, a mixture of relief and sorrow flooding through him. He watched as bright lights illuminated the scene, listening to your desperate calls for him. His entire body went rigid. He dashed up, rushing to the side, only to catch a fleeting glimpse of the portal closing, taking you away with it. You were gone, leaving him standing there alone, his fists trembling at his sides. The distant sounds of the city were drowned out by the deafening sound of his heart hammering in his ears.

---

The flagpole keeps creaking, and panic engulfs you as you frantically search for anything to hold onto, causing you to swing back and forth in desperation. With every creak, the pole bends a little more, making your heart race even faster. You stretch upward, trying to grasp onto it as it starts bending downwards.

Your hands wrap around the pole, but you feel yourself slipping, and in desperation, you cry out for Miguel, for anyone, to come and save you. The bolts that attach the flagpole to the wall begin to move as your weight puts strain on the weak fastenings, threatening to give way.

In a terrifying moment, the small flagpole is pulled out of the loosening bolts, and you scream as it drops, together with you.

Suddenly, a figure casts a shadow above you, and you look up just in time to witness another Spiderman's arrival. His talons dig into the wall as he slides down, causing it to crack apart. In a swift move, he snatches the collar of your shirt, catching you, and with incredible strength, he pulls you up and holds you with one arm. For a moment, you stare at each other, shocked and slightly bloodied you stare up at the eyes of his mask slowly narrowing, as if he waited for something to happen.

But before you can comprehend what's happening, the man throws you through a portal, and you scream out for Miguel, your voice echoing in desperation. He follows right behind you, and the world around you shifts drastically.

The surroundings are strange, uncanny, and constantly morphing into different shapes, colors, and constructs. It feels as if you're floating in space, yet there's a sense of movement, as if the world around you is shifting and transforming. Shapes, sounds, and colors blend together, creating an otherworldly experience. It's as if you've entered a realm where time, space, and reality intertwine, leaving you in a state of awe and bewilderment.

Suddenly, the man reappears, the other Spiderman, leaping towards you with a trademark Spiderman leap. Panic grips you as you scramble to escape. Whoever this guy was, whether he wore a Spiderman suit or not, he wasn’t Miguel.

You flail your arms and legs, akin to a dog attempting to swim for the first time. However, before you can fully comprehend what's happening, a hand snatches you up and propels you towards yet another bright light. Your body is flung through the portal, leaving you disoriented and landing on your front in a large and dimly lit room.

Slowly, you push yourself up on your arms, whispering a quiet, pained "ow..." The realization of the situation dawns on you, and your eyes shoot open. Flipping over onto your back, you begin to crawl backward, putting distance between yourself and the man who is stepping toward you.

Every muscle in your body tenses with fear and uncertainty. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you try to make sense of where you are and what's happening. The dim light in the room casts eerie shadows, adding to the surreal atmosphere. You don't know who this man is or what he wants, and your instincts urge you to keep your distance.

"Lyla!" His voice startled you, and as you turned around, a cheerful yellow hologram of a woman materialized on the man's shoulder.

[Oh, hey Boss~ How’d it go- Oh…]

Suddenly the hologram playfully teleported in front of you. Instinctively, you scooted back, keeping both of them at arm's length. The hologram, Lyla, flickered momentarily before returning to the man's shoulder.

"Check her vitals and bring up the statistics from her dimension," he says, drawing a circle with his hand to encompass all of you. As he walks past, you scramble away, realizing that he doesn't seem interested in you. Making his way over to some monitors, he starts typing something in.

[Got it]

The hologram nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders as a bright yellow light shines over you, seemingly scanning your body. You instinctively move away, flinching as the light flicks from one side of you to the other.

[Elevated heart rate; 123 bpm. The respiratory rate is increased, steady at 15. Without a thorough check-up, I can't provide precise statistics. However, based on a quick review, she shows possible signs of anxiousness and confusion, and she might be somewhat disoriented. Additionally, she could be showing signs of paleness, which might indicate a drop in her blood pressure, although that could also be due to a lack of sun exposure... sorry to call you out, y/n]

"Lyla..." The man's voice carried a cautious tone as he swiftly typed on a hologram keyboard, summoning screens before him.

[The canon is stable, no disruptions or anomalies detected.] The hologram swiftly flicked around and settled in front of you, making you flinch involuntarily.

[I'm so excited to have you here! I mean, hiiiii! My name is Lyla! I have so many questions for you~ By the way, is that your natural hair color? Because-] Lyla's bubbly introduction is interrupted as you ask, your hands trembling slightly.

"How do you know my name…?" you inquire, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease.

Lyla flicks, and in an instant, her back is turned towards you, now facing Miguel with her hands on her hips. Then she flicks again and reappears in front of him.

[You didn't tell her?] she asks Miguel, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Haven't really had the chance to yet," he snapped at her, clearly annoyed, as he finished whatever he was doing on the monitors. Finally, he turned around to face you.

The man walked over towards you, and fearfully, you scrambled backward. He stopped, holding his hands up in a sign of surrender, and let out a tired sigh. "I won't hurt you," he reassured you. Despite his words, you still flinched and moved back even more as he takes another step towards you.

"You have my word; you are safe here. I just need to give you this," he said, holding up what seemed like a futuristic watch.

As he moves forward and you flinch back once again, your back pressed against the wall, he lets out a frustrated sound. Suddenly, he leaps at you and snatches your wrist, causing you to cry out and instinctively smack your closed fist against his chest.

"Stop! Wait! Just—just hold still!" You try to pull away from him as he tris to calm you down, his grip tight as he tries to hold you in place.

"No, stop moving, I'm—stop," he says wearily, trying to get you to calm down.

"No! Let go of me! HELP ME, SOMEONE, PLEASE!" Panic surges through you, and your body is on high alert as you thrash around in his grip, your eyes darting around the room for someone, anyone.

He snatches both of your wrists, trying to hold you still, but your panic escalates into a full-blown panic attack. You pull, hit, and kick him, desperately trying to pry your hands away and get away from him.

"Just—STOP!" The man finally says, grabbing the bottom of your face and forcing you to look up at him. You resist at first, attempting to break free from his grip, until you finally open your eyes and freeze. As you watch, the Spider-Man mask covering his face dissolves away, revealing his face.

The man standing in front of you was a spitting image of Miguel, a bit older, with a few more wrinkles likely from frowning and stress rather than actual age, you would have guessed. He stared down at you, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown. Shocked and unable to move, you could only stand there, gazing up at him.

He took the opportunity to snap the bracelet onto your wrist. It wasn't tight, but it felt secure enough that it wouldn't easily come off. You didn't even notice, too absorbed in staring at his face.

Finally, Miguel, older Miguel, let go of you and straightened up, his gaze turned away with a noticeable frown on his face.

"Who..." you asked, your eyebrows tightly together as you took in his appearance.

"My name is Miguel O'Hara. I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse-" he began explaining.

"What- no," you interrupted, taking a step back and shaking your head, a look of confusion and disapproval on your face, "I know Miguel, you—you're not my—"

"I am Miguel, but not your Miguel, I am from another dimension," he clarified, attempting to make sense of the situation.

[This dimension, to be more specific], Lyla chimed in, appearing hovering above his shoulder, seemingly nonchalant.

You shook your head slowly, your lip trembling as you glanced down at the floor, trying to process what you had just been told. You closed your eyes tightly, attempting to stop the swirling emotions from overwhelming you. It was as if by not agreeing and not wanting it to be true, you hoped somehow to fix the situation.

"I don't—I don't know you. I want to go back; I need to make sure Miguel—MY Miguel is okay!" You push past him and walk over to where the portal had been, running your hands over the surface of the wall, searching for some sort of button or switch.

"You can't go back," he says firmly.

"What?" you ask, turning around to face him. "What do you mean 'can't'? You brought me here, so you can take me back!" you protest.

"You," he sighed, glancing around the room, searching for the right words before finally closing his eyes in defeat. He looked at you with a serious expression, "You were supposed to die tonight, but I managed to find a way around it. However, for that to happen and for you to survive, you can't.... you can't go back. I'm sorry."

"You're lying... I survived! I've been in dangerous situations before! I—this was no different, I got saved—" you protested, your emotions running high.

"You got saved by ME; I interfered. Without it, you would have been killed," he explained, his hands now on his hips as he walked over to you slowly.

"In our worlds... as Miguel and y/n, we are the equivalent of a Spiderman," he pointed at his own chest and then gestured to yours, "and a Gwen Stacy."

You frowned, looking at his hand, and he let out a quiet sigh. "It's a messed up 'never meant to be' canon event that is unavoidable, trust me – I have tried. As soon as versions of us meet, it starts."

"What starts?" you asked, feeling confused.

"A canon event, something that can't be avoided without the risk of total and complete destruction of that dimension," he responded matter-of-factly.

You let out a bitter laugh. "You're kidding me, right? You want me to believe that an entire dimension, world, universe—whatever—would collapse just because versions of us start dating?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, taking a step towards you, his voice low and dangerous as he towered over you. "In every universe, versions of us date, and you, almost every version of you, die. That's your story."

Miguel leaned back, looking down at you with disdain. "Or, if you're lucky, I'm the one who dies. Either way, that's our story, our fate. If anything, or anyone, breaks that cycle, THAT then threatens that dimension's safety."

"Why?!" Your voice broke, and a mixture of anger and sadness welled up inside you, tears building up in your eyes.

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because it's a canon event! And canon events cannot be broken without the risk of complete multidimensional collapse."

Everything he said sounded so foreign to you, yet strangely believable. The sincerity in his voice and the evidence you had witnessed so far led you to believe him. He didn't come across as a man who would lie. But believing his words didn't mean you had to accept them.

Your hands felt clammy, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. A headache began to pulse in your temples, and as you looked up, the room seemed to spin around you, leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented. This couldn't be happening... this couldn't be real.

"I-I want to go back. Take me back..." you desperately say, your words a mix of a plea and demand.

"I can't do that," he responds, his hands on his hips.

"Let me go back!" you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"I can't do that," he responds again, avoiding your gaze, a heavy weight in his voice.

You feel yourself heat up, anger and panic mixing into a dangerous and unfamiliar mess inside you, threatening to erupt. Suddenly, a door next to you opens, revealing two people dressed in Spiderman suits—one wearing a blue vest, and the other clad in a fully black suit with white marks.

"Take her to my quarters, let her lay down and rest until I find a place for her to stay," Miguel mumbles, tiredly rubbing his eyes with one hand as he turns around to leave.

"Don't touch me... I’m not going anywhere!" you warn, your voice firm

Miguel stops and his head whips around as he looks down at you, his eyebrows raised. The unspoken question, dare, hung heavily in the air.

Is that so?

---

You thrashed around, your fists smacking into his bulky back as he had you slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Curses and threats spilled from you, but he remained nonchalant, walking ahead with a frown on his face. Your yelling caught the attention of people around you, and as you looked up, you realized that everyone was wearing different kinds of suits, all with some sort of Spider symbol or design.

After an awkwardly long elevator ride, during which you had tired yourself out with all your kicking and thrashing, you heard the ding as the elevator doors opened. Stepping outside, he carried you until he ended up in front of a pair of doors. He dropped you on your feet and you opened your mouth about to curse him out when he spun you around and pushed you inside.

"You—YOU! You can't just... I HAVE RIGHTS!" you shouted in frustration and anger.

"Oh? Great, oh wow" he responded sarcastically, barely letting you get your words out.

"AND YOU CAN'T JUST, JUST TAKE ME AND—" you continued to vent your anger.

"Uh huh, uh huh," he nodded, his hands on his hips, watching you storm over towards him with a mocking smile on his face.

The doors closed abruptly in your face, and you stopped, your eyes wide with pure shock. For a moment, you were left speechless, trying to process what had just happened, your eye twitching in annoyance.

And then? Then you began breaking stuff.

You were yelling a mixture of gibberish and curses, you had been smacking your hand against the metal sliding doors for what felt like hours, kicking at them, and demanding to be let out. When that didn’t work you began trashing the place, kicking chairs out of your way, smacking over books and bowls and- well… the place wasn’t really decorated much. Until finally you were left pacing back and forth, a pillow held tightly in your hands, it was the only thing around not yet on the floor.

You finally stopped, backing up to take in your surrounding and the state of the room, as your back hit the wall, you slowly came to a stop, dropping the pillow you had been holding. It wasn't much of a weapon, but in that moment, you didn't really care; your mind was not thinking straight.

Your eyes shifted around the room, taking in the destruction you had unintentionally caused. Finally, you slumped back, feeling your body slide down against the wall until you landed softly on the floor. You pulled your knees up against your chest and wrapped your arms around them hiding your face.

In your mind, this felt like a terrible nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. You yearned to open your eyes and find yourself back in the safety of your bedroom, with sunlight streaming through the blinds. The comforting routine of having breakfast with your aunt and uncle, followed by a trip to school to meet your friends and, of course, Miguel. It filled your heart with a sense of normalcy you sorely missed.

Your chest felt so tight for a moment that you thought you might be having a heart attack, but it was more likely a panic attack taking hold of you. The knot in your stomach tightened, and the silence around you only amplified your distress. It felt as if the world was closing in, leaving you struggling for breath and unable to think straight.

You desperately needed to wake up. This had to be nothing more than a terrible nightmare. Lifting your tear-stained face from your arms, you took in the surroundings of the room, hoping to find some semblance of familiarity. It was a small, cramped space with a kitchen area, a bedroom, a compact living area with a large desk, and finally, a door that you presumed led to the bathroom. At first glance, it didn't look like a jail cell, but then why did it feel as though invisible metal bars were closing in around you?

Your eyes shifted to your wrist, and you had to take a deep breath to steady yourself. The braided bracelet encircling it suddenly felt so heavy, like a weight pulling you down. Your chin trembled, and your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, you began to weep, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your forehead against the bracelet.

After what felt like hours of crying, you noticed a bright yellow light shined down on you. Looking up, you watched as Lyla materialized in front of you, silently observing you.

[Miguel has instructed me to give you a quick tour of his quarters. Would you... like me to show you around?]

If you had to guess, you would probably say she's some kind of AI; thus, who knows if she could feel sympathy or even understand what you were going through. Running the back of your hands over your eyes, you wiped away some of the tears, but you were still unable to get your breathing under control.

[Is there anything I can help you with? I could pull up a few breathing exercises or calming videos of puppies if you would like?]

You eyed her for a moment, contemplating whether she was being genuine or making fun of you. Based on the tone of her voice and the hologram itself, Lyla seemed to be at least trying to comfort you.

[I have to admit... I'm not really good at this. It's not as if Miguel possesses a wide range of emotions.]

"What time is it?" You asked, choosing to ignore her attempt at small talk.

[It's approximately six PM.]

"Why is it so dark in here?"

[Miguel prefers it that way. In his work station and quarters, you'll find the lighting is usually kept dim.]

You glance around the room and realize that one of the reasons it feels like a glorified prison cell is the lack of a window.

"Does he hate windows too?" you ask bitterly.

[No. However, I was instructed not to open it due to...] She trails off, nervously flickering her gaze around the room.

"Due to what?" you press, narrowing your eyes as you slowly stand.

[There are napkins in the third drawer of his desk, please help yourself,] she said, smoothly changing the subject.

Silently, you walked over to the desk, your gaze fixated on the drawers. You made a mental note to check them all out later, when you weren't being watched. You pulled on the drawer, and there, on top of some files, you found the box of napkins. You consciously ignored the box of lotion that lay behind it.

"Terrific..." you muttered to yourself, feeling slightly frustrated.

"Why can't you open a window?" you demanded.

[I am fully capable of opening a window, it's—] Lyla began to explain.

"Why were you instructed not to, then?" you interrupted, your upper lip twitching in annoyance.

Lyla fell quiet, flickering around until she reappeared in front of you on the desk. You wiped your nose and some tears off your face, feeling a mix of emotions. Suddenly, a noise on the far wall caught your attention. You looked over and watched as some blinds, which had been impossible to spot in the dark, cracked open, allowing a stream of light to finally shine in.

[Ooh, WOW! Haha! Look at this place! You ripped it apart! That's so funny, Miguel is gonna lose his mind,] she exclaimed.

"Is he violent?" you ask, making your way towards the window.

[What? Of course not! Well, if you're wondering if you have anything to fear, then no,] she assures you.

"Oh good, I'm glad my kidnapper doesn't have violent tendencies," you retort. There was a time when you might have felt guilty about your attitude, but after everything that had happened, you couldn't care less.

[Would you like me to put on some music? I know what you like! I have a few playlists saved based on your—] she begins to suggest.

"How high up are we? Are you able to remove the blinds completely?" you inquire, glancing out the window as you test the strength of the metal blinds.

[y/n... Even if I opened those blinds, and even if you weren't several hundred feet above the ground (I do not have permission to disclose HQ information with you), and you could get out...] Lyla flicked to your side, her avatar looking at you with sympathetic eyes, or as close to it as she could manage.

[You're not in your own dimension. You're not even really in your own timeline; you're about an average human's lifetime ahead of your own timeline. Even if I let you out... you'd have nowhere to go], she gently explained, delivering the disheartening truth.

As the blinds peeled back loudly, the entire window was revealed, causing you to flinch instinctively. You turned your head quickly to see Miguel, the other Miguel, leaning against the doorframe with his hand sliding off a button.

Glancing outside, you watched the city before you, and the knot in your stomach grew. Everything looked futuristic, with cars soaring down below and buildings towering even taller than those back home.

Home...

The only thing that looked remotely similar to home were the large, over-the-top billboards littering the city. You were too high up to actually see the people walking down below, which did prove that Lyla hadn't been lying.

Lyla flicked over to Miguel, hovering above his shoulder, engaged in a quiet conversation with him. As you turned towards them, the growing tightness in your chest returned. Slowly, you walked away from the window, positioning yourself on the opposite side of him—more importantly, the opposite side of the door. Miguel casually observed you, and for the first time since you had seen his face, he wasn't frowning. You glanced at the open doorway behind him and then back at him, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible.

"Don't..." He casually warned, staring down at you.

Turning around, you began walking towards the kitchen, attempting to feign hunger by casually sliding your hand over your stomach. But as soon as you were near the door, your only plan was to get the hell out of there and away from him.

With a swift move, you tried to slip past him, but he reacted lightning-fast, grabbing your wrist and hoisting you up in the air. He forcefully pulled you backwards, leaving your toes barely touching the floor, before throwing you onto his couch.

"Enough already—" Miguel started to say, but he had to stop himself as you made another desperate attempt to dash past him. He pushed you down against the couch, one hand on your chest.

"Let me out of here! Send me home!" you hissed, trying to push him away, but his grip was firm.

"YOU ARE AN ANOMALY! If you go back there, your whole dimension will disappear, together with everything in it! Everyone you know, your friends, family, loved ones—everyone will die," Miguel explained, his hand keeping you in place as you stared up at him, breathing heavily, and eventually slumping back against the couch.

You didn't have the energy to question him further. You smacked his hand away from you, sitting up and leaning forward. Your arms rested on your knees, and you covered your face with your hands. The amount of information from unreliable sources was overwhelming, making your head spin and your stomach churn.

You fell backwards against the couch, silently staring out the window. For a brief, beautiful moment, your brain seemed to take pity on you and dissociated from reality, allowing you to watch the sun finally set and the darkness of the night slowly taking over. While Miguel occupied himself with some paperwork, speaking into his bracelet, and moving about his quarters, he eventually settled down across from you on the couch.

As you continued to gaze out the window, he watched you intently, about to say something when you interrupted him. "Is Miguel safe—my Miguel?"

He nodded silently, and you closed your eyes, letting out a breath. "I... I won't ever see him again, will I?" you asked, your eyes welling up with tears as you looked over at him.

"No," he answered quietly.

Closing your eyes, you felt tears streak down each cheek. "Why is this happening? Why—" you began, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

Miguel sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment of silence, he looked up at the spot above your head before his gaze settled on you, making it appear as though he almost looked down at you as he spoke.

"Every Spider-person's life is connected, woven together in this... beautiful web of life and destiny. It's called the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse," Miguel explained.

As you blinked in bewilderment, a look of pure confusion crossed your face. Miguel, looking annoyed, glanced away before sighing.

"Or... The Spiderverse, if that makes it easier," he muttered. "It's easier if we just—Ugh. Lyla, do the thing!"

[Huh? What thing?]

Miguel's stoic expression melted into one of confusion and borderline bewilderment. He shook his head, clearly perplexed, and turned to glance at Lyla, ‘’What- What do you mean ‘what thing?’ The information, explainy thing!’’

[Oh, okay!] Lyla responded.

As the blinds fall over the window again, you jump in your seat, and suddenly the room transforms from pitch black to a display of red laser-like shapes forming in front of you. The shapes resemble hundreds, if not thousands, of small webs, all interconnected. Each one takes the form of a small heptagon with tiny images inside, depicting various events. However, the images are too small to make out clearly, and Miguel mumbles something about it being easier to show in the "big room."

You lean forward, engrossed in his explanation. "These nodes," he points them out for you, "they're where the lines converge; they are the canon. Chapters that are a part of every Spider's story, every time." You watch as Miguel leans forward, his eyes shifting from one node to another as he speaks.

"Some good..." He looks over at another node. "Some bad..."

"Some very bad." He stops at the node in front of you, his gaze shifting up to meet yours.

"That's how the story's supposed to go. The canon events are the connections that bind our lives together," Miguel said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you. "But those connections can be broken. That's why anomalies..." He looked away from you, his expression turning bitter, "are so dangerous."

"In universes where versions of us meet and become... close, our relationship becomes a canon event, an event that always has and always will end with one of us dying. You weren't supposed to survive in your universe," he explained solemnly.

"Do I always... die at the same time?" you ask, your voice tinged with sadness and confusion.

"No. Sometimes you... we—" Miguel hesitates, searching for the right words, "Versions of us begin lives together. Some get married, some have children, and some... some die before even making it as far as you did," he says, bitterness evident in his voice.

"And now, because that story has changed, you have become an anomaly. Which means that if you return, your dimension will begin unraveling. And there is no stopping that," Miguel explains, his tone somber and resigned.

"What..." you say, distraught.

"It's what happens when you break the canon,"

"Then why... why am I alive? Why did you save me?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

"Because I... I found a way—a way to save you," he responds, his expression serious, but a hint of melancholic determination gleaming in his eyes, as if just speaking those words aloud was an act of defiance against some unfathomable force.

"How many other versions of me have you saved?" you ask, his gaze remaining on you for a moment before faltering, and he looks away, seemingly feeling ashamed.

"None. You are... you are the only one I could save," he admits.

You silently watch him, trying to process the weight of what he had just revealed, whether intentional or not.

"That's why you can't go back. If you break enough canons, we could lose..." He gestures, and you watch as nodes begin to crumble, causing the entire web to slowly disintegrate. "Everything."

"We...?" you question, seeking clarification.

Miguel let out a tired sigh, scooting forward and reaching for your hand. You flinched at his touch, and he looked up at you, his frown slowly softening as you held out your arm. He lifted your sleeve and showed you a small red spot, the mosquito bite you had gotten a few days ago.

"For you to survive, you..." He trailed off, his thumb running over the spot slowly. "There can only be one Spider-person in every dimension. If, for whatever reason, another person becomes one, then they also become an anomaly. At that point, one of the spider-people either dies, or the dimension itself collapses. Sometimes, it's both."

Your eyes meet as he holds onto your arm. "For you to survive, you had to become... an anomaly. Instead of you dying, you became an anomaly and then got removed from that dimension. Things change without tipping the scale, without breaking the canon."

"An anomaly... You turned me into a Spider-person?" you gasp.

Miguel silently watches you. "Not exactly... I injected you with—"

"Wait! So, Miguel could die? I mean, if there can only be one Spider-person, what if the universe or dimension or canon, or whatever it is, doesn't realize I'm gone? It could still kill him?!" you interrupt, your concern and anxiety evident in your voice.

[I have run hundreds of statistics, and so far, none show any dimensional rupture or damage. The canon has technically not been broken, only altered. The end results are still the same—only one Spider-man, only one of the two of you in the dimension.]

‘’This was just some test to you? You’re risking Miguel's life, my entire dimension because of what some AI calculated?!’’ You stand up abruptly, staring down at Miguel.

[Hey!] Lyla objects, clearly offended.

‘’As long as you don’t go back and interact with that dimension, it should be safe,’’ Miguel leans forward, looking up at you with a hint of a smile on his face. ‘’You were— are, a scientific miracle. A breakthrough never thought to be possible. However, if something does disrupt your dimension, it’s our job to try to fix it. We’re not always lucky, but—‘’

You leap over the small coffee table between the two of you, aiming for the collar of his suit. Miguel swiftly captures your wrists in his hands, holding you firmly in place as you glare down at him, tears welling in your eyes.

‘’You sick-‘’ you hiss, baring your teeth at him, your nails digging into his hands.

‘’y/n, you were going to die. If not you, then your Miguel would have. You can hate me as much as you want. I didn’t make the rules, you think I’d want this…?’’ Miguel's voice wavers slightly, his eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and desperation.

In that moment, the anger inside you clashes with a sudden wave of overwhelming sadness and helplessness. You struggle against his grip, but Miguel's hold remains steady, as if he's trying to protect you from yourself.

‘’You should have just let me die,’’ you glare at him, and he looks at you, his eyes widening in surprise, ‘’At least then my dimension, my Miguel would have been safe.’’

‘’I... couldn’t...’’ Miguel mumbles, staring into your eyes, his own welling up with emotion.

‘’Why?!’’ you ask with tearful eyes, glaring down at him, your heart heavy with frustration and grief.

He watches you silently for a moment, his expression pained, before his eyebrows knit together, and he pushes you back against the couch, releasing your wrists as you fall back. ‘’No more questions for today. Lyla, get her something to eat. I have a headache.’’

You continued objecting, ignoring Lyla's attempts to distract you with food recommendations and takeout options. Your mind was consumed by the weight of the revelations, and the internal struggle left you feeling torn apart. Miguel eventually left, locking the door behind him, leaving you alone to process everything that had been revealed.

Unable to find solace in the chaos of your thoughts, you finally dropped down against the couch, pulling your knees up into a fetal position. The tears welled up again, and you cried yourself to sleep, exhaustion and emotional turmoil taking its toll on your body and mind.

---

In the following days or weeks – time seemed hazy in this new dimension – you settled into a monotonous routine. Conversations were rare, especially with Miguel. Sleeping on the couch, facing away from the room, you woke each morning to find a comforting blanket placed over you. Emotions churned as you grappled with the reality of being an anomaly here. Memories of home and loved ones tugged at your heart, while uncertainty and vulnerability clouded your mind

As days passed in the unfamiliar dimension, you grew closer to Lyla. Despite your attempts to ignore her, she proved to be persistent and engaging. She spent time with you, sharing stories and anecdotes, breaking through your emotional barriers.

During a conversation, you discovered that she had been "observing" you for quite a while. While it felt like stalking to you, she insisted it was part of her duties. After a two-hour debate, you agreed to disagree.

Lyla's presence became a source of solace in the disorienting dimension. She became a friend, easing the burden of being stranded far from home. In this vast multiverse, her companionship reminded you of the need for friendship, someone to confine in, someone to speak to.

She reminded you of Gwen…

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv #spiderman #Spiderman across the spider verse #angst #This shit is so angst #Spin Off Bitter Sweet #Bitter Sweet #Sweet Sorrow #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #eventual smut #fluff #hurt/comfort #depressing shit

[yeonwoos-innocence]

Chapter 140-144 discussion

Now because these four chapters are basically one big chapter all culminating in Junhyuk and Yeonwoo's reconciliation I'm going to put it all together in one big gigantic fat essay.

You're welcome.

Starting off with chapter 140 let us all praise Jinwoo for his amazing advice because all this was really solved by Jinwoo telling Yeonwoo if "he doesn't listen to you just punch him". That right there is some solid advice and it did wonders for our boys in the long run.

I also just love how Jinwoo is so quote-on-quote nonchalant about this entire debacle between Junhyuk and Yeonwoo but you can tell that he cares, he wouldn't be talking to Yeonwoo if he didn't care. Even though he complains about his broken heart and we all know he's jealous of the fact that Yeonwoo and Haesol are dating that doesn't deter him from helping a friend in need.

Let's also talk about and appreciate how Jinwoo and Yeonwoo have truly become friends. Like I'm so happy that Yeonwoo now has another male friend who is not Junhyuk. Now he understands what a friendship between two men is more than likely supposed to look like. His relationship with Junhyuk is abnormal and him having a friendship with another man in a way that is normal, in a sense I feel like it's going to do good for him.

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss Yeonwoo, he came out in the cold in his pajamas on purpose because he knows that Junhyuk has a strong tendency to take care of him. Like even when Junhyuk is trying to stay away from Yeonwoo he still has that desire to take care of Yeonwoo and I just find that so heartwarming but also so messed up when you think about it. Like their bond is so deep that even in the midst of an argument they still have those habits that they are unable to get away from. Ah trauma. (Haesol would be livid) Scratch that that's a positive thing now.

I can feel Yeonwoo's frustration as Junhyuk is just not listening to him and just brushing him off.

That punch was so satisfying.

I adored and loved every minute of it. The way I had to wait for those chapters to come out, painful (after the chapter 147 raws it's about to get worse).

Them airing out all their guilt, honesty, I loved it but it is very obvious that they are still holding some things back.

Completely off topic but the panel where Haesol is telling Yeonwoo that his relationship with Junhyuk is abnormal when I first read that chapter I was terrified because I thought her grip on him was too hard but now that we go back into the memory and Yeonwoo has calmed down and that shadow on her face is gone the look on her face is so soft and her hold on him is so careful I'm actually sick. (Ya I'm delusional so what)

Only Yeonsol people Only Yeonsol!!!

Back to the boys.

This argument between them was honestly what we all needed but it wasn't enough I'm not going to lie. There are still so many things that they should talk about and it kind of feels like they are brushing things under the rug but, it is a start. They have never had an argument before and this is their first argument so it's a start.

I can't be the only one who thought that Junhyuk talking about his fixation on Yeonwoo and how he can't help do certain things when he's with him... that low key sounded like a confession... I'm not going to lie I was like how this was wording. I just found it funny and I loved it I'm not going to lie. Like I love my platonic boys but the wording, it stuck out to me and I cackled.

What makes this even better is the fact that Junhyuk and Haesol are both jealous of each other because of the others relationship with Yeonwoo. THE IRONY!

Something that struck me was them talking about how Yeonwoo tried to off himself and how that made Junhyuk feel. it was honestly something that they needed to talk about because the moment that happened in the flashback I was like they better talk about this when they reconcile because there's no way you're going to have that be such a major part of Junhyuk's trauma and not address it.

Plus Yeonwoo is too perceptive he is very intelligent when it comes to understanding other people's emotions especially Junhyuk he's been with the man his whole entire life, he understands Junhyuk. Them talking about that and reconciling has healed a part of me that I did not know was broken. It healed a part of me that I thought it genuinely loved the angst but that part showed me how much I actually needed healing.

It was an eye opener.

That sequence of them going back and forth from their childhood to them in the park and that hug that finally came

*smacks hand on table*

that was just so cathartic.

The release I felt when they finally hugged it out oh my God that was so good I was all over the place. it was just too good.

It was actually amazing.

Now in chapter 143 the awkwardness that has come after that was honestly so realistic.

I love how Esol is just so realistic in her depictions of all the characters and especially in the human aspects of their relationships. For instance if this was any other webtoon this realistic awkwardness that comes after you reconcile from a fight would probably not be as well flushed out as it is in this chapter. It would be a miniature gag and then they would move on and act like nothing happened.

I appreciate how Esol doesn't do that and she takes everything that is happening seriously and you can tell the amount care that she puts into each and every one of the scenes that she draws and puts out into the world.

Now I know this chapter is about them reconciling and everything becoming better but I am not the only person who thinks that Yeonwoo has the potential to be a master manipulator. Like yeah his intention is to reconcile with Junhyuk and be friends with him again but the way certain things are worded where he's like "you can let go of your guilt that you have for me now" or when he goes on and on about how he isn't the best person but he still wants to be friends with Junhyuk... like I know he has good intentions but that right there could be some master manipulator type stuff I'm just putting that out into the world because it is there.

Other than that chapter 143 is honestly great but... when Yeonwoo says that there are times where he wishes he could have come to school with a gun and shot up the place... now as an American that hit a bit too close to home and I was gagged I had to take several steps back because my boy!

Like sure I would let you do that to me but I mean in all honesty I was surprised I was bamboozled. . . It was still a fun read but I was very surprised.

Did I mention that shock to me.

Ya? Ok.

Yeonwoo admitting to Junhyuk that if it weren't for Junhyuk he probably would not be here today that actually warmed my heart. Junhyuk has been having a crisis over how he isn't helping Yeonwoo, thinking that he is in fact harming him (this is all Haesol's fault) and for Yeonwoo to tell him that because of Junhyuk he would not be here today is just so good.

It really does something to your soul you know.

Now this reconciliation was sweet but can we just talk about how pretty Yeonwoo is. Like I know Esol loves drawing our main leads because her Instagram and Twitter have the most jaw-dropping works of Haesol and in the webtoon the way she draws Yeonwoo needs to be studied because he's just absolutely mesmerizing.

The panel where Yeonwoo is pulling his hand out for Junhyuk to shake it so they can move on and the slight blush that dusts his cheeks as the camera pans to Junhyuk's point of view, how his expression is just one of embarrassment with a mix of shame and a tad bit of frustration 🤤

Oh my Lord I had to like take a break from my computer because I unconscious.

My heart stopped

I was contemplating my life decisions.

I was ready to get down on my hands and knees and do anything he asked because how the heck can someone look that pretty with a bruised eye no less.

The detail that Esol goes into when drawing Yeonwoo it's just magnificent and I'm fed every chapter with how pretty he is.

Enough of that, I can honestly go on and make like a 20 page essay on his looks alone. You wouldn't want to read that.

Them shaking hands was great but of course knowing Esol she had to add that ominous cloud of black static that kind of dampend in the mood a tad bit but hey we got what we got and I'm honestly not mad at it because it was great.

The cloud eludes to the fact that there is going to be a constant stain on their psyches because of what happened to them middle school. It is honestly a great way to show trauma but it's also a great way to show that they are moving on and they are getting better.

Now let's get to the meat and butter of this chapter

...

HAESOL BABY

SHE'S OBVIOUSLY SO MAD!!!

The drama!!! it's just so good for my soul. Poor Nari (all hail Nari she deserves it) she just wants all her friends to be friends again and then here are Haesol and Yeonwoo going through something right after Yeonwoo and Junhyuk have rekindled their relationship.

Yeonwoo going on a whole entire ramble of denial talking about how him and Haesol are not fighting... Like sweetie... babes

You're fighting.

Haesol is jealous and you yourself are also jealous.

There are so many points of miscommunication for these two.

Talking about that alone is going to warrant its own essay (I will do it) like these two are so messy and they're messy in a way that isn't even frustrating because they can easily fix it, no they're messy in a way that is just so sensible. That's what makes it so frustrating.

You get both of their points of views and that's what makes it so much worse because you understand them both. Therefore you understand why they both are not talking about the glaring issue that is their jealousy.

It's just so good.

That last look where Yeonwoo is asking Haesol can we talk and the look on her face....

I just it's so good like oh my God she just looks so ugghh I can't even explain it. You understand what I'm talking about though.

Now you know honestly this was my favorite part of this little arc.

The reveal of how Junhyuk really got his injuries and how he actually beat that man to a pulp even though he is "crippled" like that piece of trash had all the talk in the beginning, talking about how "oh you mean Junhyuk the cripple??

Yet that cripple was the one who beat you and your gang who had weapons by the way to a bloody pulp.

LIKE WHO'S LAUGHING NOW!!!

Now I so desperately wanted him to carry out that final act and just end that piece of trash's life but hey this is not a murder mystery and this is definitely not a thriller (that's debatable) but man was that good.

Junhyuk laughed in his face when he saw that he pissed himself.

Haah!!!

I myself cackling a little.

When I saw that I was on the floor. it was so funny like for all your big talk you can't carry out anything without the people around you.

Which honestly just pisses me off more because Junhyuk is right victims are often left to deal with the consequences of other people's actions and just told to move on when all it would have really taken for this to not happen is the people around Yeonwoo shunning the bully and that bully could not have done anything.

Like let's remember that the bully was only powerful because the people in the class let him get that powerful.

All the class had to do was recognize that what he was doing was wrong and ultimately shun him and everything that happened to Yeonwoo would not have happened to him.

A simple solution but they made it 10 times more complicated because they were scared of what some guy who bullied someone in another school. Like yeah he's strong but you're a collective. the class could have simultaneously ganged up on him and made him stop and he wouldn't have been able to do anything.

Eventually the teacher would have had to step in and do something about it. (No matter how useless they are) I'm still pressed on that and I blame that entire class and the teachers for what happened to Yeonwoo.

Next chapter we're going to get some Nari and Junhyuk and I'm so here for that I love those two they are like my favorite side pairing now because I love them so much.

First comes Yeonsol than come

Junnari?

Did I just come up with their ship name???

Yes I did!!!

Now that was fun and I'm so excited for the next chapters because I read chapter 147 and I'm not going to be able to think about anything else for the rest of the week!!!

When that chapter gets translated and it comes out I'm going to go on the most diabolical rant of all time you all better be ready because I'm going to go haywire.

You all know my love for angst and this right here is prime good stuff not only is the angst delicious but the context behind the angst is even more of a scrumptious side meal.

Before I spoil anything I'm going to stop this here but this!

This story is just getting so much better and I am absolutely living.

That coupled with the new artists that have joined the fandom (check over on Twitter)

Things are looking up....

for me!!

HAHAHAHAHA

call ambulance... but not for me!!!

(Also side note but you guys can also leave your own rants and your own analysis is on what you think is happening I would love to hear what everyone else has to say. Being the only person who's posting a chapter analysis on the upcoming chapters is fun but I would also like to know what everyone else thinks. I've seen that a few people have joined the subreddit so why not jump-start the activity by making your own takes. Just be respectful)

#yeonwoo's innocence #manhwa #romance #shoujo #shoujo manga #shoujo manhwa #anime #manga #yeonsol #josei #josei manga #josei romance #shoujo but roles reversed and it's glorious #manhwa recommendation #chapter review

[firephoenix23]

I don’t know what the Slugterra writers and animators were on when making the Lightwell episode but they did such a great job I mean just look at these backgrounds.

And the animation for Eli’s face is so expressive and funny

And his reaction we he realized he crawled inside a worm’s ass is literally priceless. And he looks up at the worm and goes “wait a minute” I’m dead 😂😂

The quotes he says are so great too like “There is no way I’m going back in there” and “First thing we’re gonna do when we get home is take some very long showers” 😂😂

There were so many other interesting moments in this episode too like Banger air punching and protecting Eli when Blakk shows up, the concept of the Lightwell and Blakk destroying yet another Slugterra landmark. It was such high stakes and I really surprised me how good this episode was.

#slugterra #i remembered liking this episode when I was younger too #guess I still have the same taste as 13 year old me 😂 #I hope whoever did those backgrounds got a raise

[veliseraptor]

I don't know what hopepunk is and at this point I'm too afraid to ask

well anon, part of your problem here is that hopepunk is in a lot of ways a meaningless descriptor that means whatever people want it to mean.

took a bit of digging but I found the post that broke down a lot of my issues with hopepunk as a concept/subgenre, here; to quote from that:

You may notice that the philosophy is incoherent, mainly boiling down to “the things I like are hopepunk and the things I don’t like aren’t.” It builds a philosophy out of opposition to a strawman of “grimdark” that doesn’t really exist. So hopepunk means you keep fighting for what you believe in regardless of what that is, and violence isn’t the answer, except when it is. Hopepunk is about being kind and soft but also about punching the bad guy with the gun. Hopepunk is a morass of FEELING REALLY STRONGLY ABOUT THINGS!!! without a fundamental core of… anything concrete.

[...]

Hopepunk in practice is unbearably twee.  The goal is to be to inspire a feeling of hope in the reader, which means that nothing bad is allowed to really happen, characters aren’t ever allowed to mess up or be mean or have flaws, and any mistake is well-intentioned and quickly & easily resolved by talking about your feelings.

and I could just leave it at that because, like I said, pretty good summation of my perspective, but sometimes an ask hits me at the exact right time for me to go off about something that consistently irritates me but I usually keep my mouth shut about for one reason or another.

and I feel like the first thing I want to say is. look. it's not like I'm out here going "hope is for losers and all I ever want is tragic stories where everything is awful forever." but the thing about hopepunk, at least in the ways I see it described, is that, in its dedication to be "the opposite of grimdark," shies away from representing darkness at all, except maybe in the most cursory, glancing ways. there's nothing to confront, nothing to push back against. villains are easily identified and unproblematically evil. protagonists are unimpeachably nice and good, and always have perfect politics. moral complexity is to be avoided, because raising too many questions might interrupt the positive feelings the author hopes to evoke.

not only does this create, in my opinion, really dull stories about very uninteresting characters, it also blunts anything the book is trying to say. if you don't want to confront any kind of conflict or struggle in depth then you've kneecapped your ability to talk about the full range of human experience. if the only antagonist you allow is a hollow caricature, then there's only so much room your protagonists have to express strength in opposing them.

the whole framework results in a kind of tepid, anodyne storytelling that expresses meaningless platitudes that the audience is presumed to agree with, often with a side helping of didacticism and "teachable moments." it's weak storytelling.

there's a world in which "hopepunk" is referring to a kind of story that I actually really like; for instance, there's a world in which one could call Malazan: Book of the Fallen "hopepunk." I am tempted to do that, just because I think it would drive people nuts. I think hopepunk wants to be doing something like the line from The Silmarillion that opens the tale of Beren and Luthien: "Among the tales of sorrow and of ruin that come down to us from the darkness of those days there are yet some in which amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures."

but out of a fear of representing anything actually ugly, or possibly making people feel kinda bad about something, or challenging the reader in any way, everything that might have been interesting gets stripped out and what's left is literature that feels like cotton candy: maybe it's sweet, but there's nothing to bite into, and nothing that lingers.

#conversating #anonymous #lise's aggressively bitchy opinions about irrelevant and unimportant matters #lise has opinions #sometimes i read things #hoo boy i think that's been stewing in me for a while

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Year In Review: Favorite Lines/Snippets!

Hello, my lovelies! Many thanks to @anincompletelist for not only creating this tag game, but for including me in it! I have ALWAYS loved a good quote that can hit someone right in the heart, and this year, I've been incredibly lucky to write a few such segments myself (that hit ME in my own heart!). Words that I stepped back from the keyboard after writing and thought "did I actually write this?"

Additional thanks to @kiwiana-writes and @firenati0n for the tags on their years in review as well!

What If I Do?

“Fuck,” is all that he can say, but even that tastes of Alex, of top shelf whiskey and the cinnamon he always adds to his coffee. Alex had spoken the word into Henry’s mouth on countless occasions, so he was all-too-familiar with the way it slipped off of his tongue so smoothly, as if the letters themselves were forged together just for him by some foul-mouthed god who knew the damage such a word might wreak in the possession of someone as fearless as Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

Gravity

But though fire may burn through carefully worded commands parading as suggestions on a pretty page, it stands no chance against the might of a golden crown. He only wishes he could fan the flames high enough to reach that blessed melting point. Watch it all soften and liquefy until it’s no longer a gilded cage but a puddle at his feet. He thinks, bitterly, that even then he wouldn’t have the time to escape before it would congeal and stiffen and trap him once more, forever frozen as a statue rather than a prisoner. And perhaps they’d prefer it that way. Statues can’t fight back.

The Rope

This is not supposed to be his life. He was always supposed to love Alex from the other side of a wall, never daring to climb over. So instead, he’d punched a hole in that fragile wall under the winter moonlight in the White House Garden, the taste of Alex on his tongue. And again and again he’d punched new holes in the weakening structure, reaching through and grabbing and clawing at whatever pieces of Alex he could grip, knowing that he’d never be able to grasp his heart. Except when, somewhere along the bloody way, he had. But Alex was never supposed to let him.

Ghosts

His first attempts to contact Henry are a flood. Incessant, desperate, confused. All paragraphs and punctuation. And then a storm. Intense in the moment but eventually losing its power. Streams of single sentences sent in quick succession. Then a trickle. Droplets of isolated words over the course of agonizing days. Until finally, they dry up completely, and Henry’s thread of communication falls lower and lower down his inbox. Alex tries not to actively seek it out.

The Maldives

“I love you. I don’t have your extensive vocabulary to say it, but the truth is that I’m absolutely crazy, head-over-heels, desperately in love with you, and I’ve spent so much time not saying it that I want to spend the rest of my life saying it as much as I can. I want to wake up beside you each morning and say it before we start the day. I want to text it to you from across any distance between us, whether it’s an ocean or the couch. I want to gasp it at the ceiling when you do that thing with your tongue. And I want it to be the last thing you hear before you fall asleep each night. I love you, and I want you to hear it so many times that it heals the pain of thinking you’d never hear it in the way you always dreamt.”

You can’t escape this drying ink

He knows, as they approach the door just down the hall from the main ballroom, what awaits him on the other side. He knows it as certainly as he knows what a terrible mistake he made on these very grounds to start the new year. A blank page already gushing bright red ink before he’d ever had the chance to write a single word other than “Alex.” He’d dripped his bleeding pen across the map as he fled, red ink footsteps trailing behind him in the snow, a smear across the map over the 3,700 miles separating them. He’d trailed it from the plane to the car, from the car through the palace, staining the perfect ancient path walked by kings and queens as he retreated back into the cage of his own making, a cage he never should have left, for now he knows what damage he wreaks when he allows his heart to guide him.

Save a horse Alex is a book that Henry has read countless times. He knows the placement of every punctuation mark, from the freckle above his hip to the smallest of scars on his knee, sustained while thoughts of Henry plagued his every waking moment, Alex admitted to him once. He’s familiar with every piece of dialogue from “motherfucker” to “sweetheart” and his personal favorite, “baby.” He’s bookmarked all of his favorite pages and even added his own annotations, like the way Alex always wants to look Henry in the eyes after they make love, regardless of what positions they may have ended up in, or the soft snores that come only when Alex is completely and utterly spent, nothing left to give but the sound of his breathing that never fails in lulling Henry to a deep sleep after him. But in the constant reading of the book of Alex, Henry is never bored. There is always something new to parse from between the lines. Words that aren’t explicitly stated. Details that can only be found by diving deeper than the surface. And Henry is happy to spend the rest of his life sinking to the depths of it, turning the pages again and again.

Heart enough

“Well, normally with a royal guest staying here, I’d roam the halls in a white sheet moaning about taxation without representation, but the joke would be wasted on someone as dull as Henry, so here I am…”

Alex has never seen Henry like this. So raw and vulnerable. Someone who needs. Frankly, he didn’t think it was even possible for a prince as polished as Henry to ever falter. Never thought a spine as rigid and straight could ever hunch, that a heart as walled off and locked away could ever break. How very wrong he was.

The taste of the whiskey from Alex’s flask and the champagne Henry drank earlier in the evening mixes with the rainwater that continues to pelt them from above, falling in their mouths and baptizing their tongues in the memories of this night that Alex knows he will never, could never, forget.

Wind me up, fill your cup like a river, drunk on watching me drown

He’d almost be impressed that a statue sculpted out of unforgiving, unchanging marble could affect anything but a strong-jawed, tight-lipped expression of utter disdain, were it not for that very first meeting of the prince and the president’s son. But nothing Henry could ever hope to do in his meticulously scheduled life of cutting ceremonial ribbons and haunting the corners of ballrooms is capable of wrenching and scraping the clock hands backwards, turning back the years of disappointment Alex has felt for ever pressing his fingers to a photo in a magazine and allowing himself to dream of someone just like him. Someone who understood.

Alex quickly realizes, though, that he’s never stood this close to the prince before. Never made out the freckles hiding beneath the carefully applied makeup. To the dungeons with a blemish on a royal face! Never noticed the halo of hazel around his pupils, a tiny island in eyes as blue as the ocean. He wonders, briefly, if Henry would choose to embrace these perceived imperfections if given the chance. Would the open, grinning young man from the magazine sign his looping script on an agreement of a royal portrait painter dotting a canvas with physical proof of being kissed by the sun, or mix up a bit of color other than the most stunning cerulean for his eyes? Or does he relish in the mask that he wears, locked as perfectly into place as every strand of his golden hair?

The injury of finally knowing you

He listens to the quiet sound of snow drifting to the ground around him and thickening the blanket of white. He listens to the distant thump of music and the explosion of fireworks across the city, of liquor-soaked laughter and raucous cheers. He listens and listens, his ears straining as if some part of him hopes to hear his father’s voice break through the clouds as brightly and certainly as he knows Orion shines somewhere above the earth upon which he stands on trembling limbs. What he doesn’t expect when he listens is the lilt of another voice from behind him, an all-too-familiar sound that never fails to color his dreams in flashes of vivid molten gold, fiery scarlet, and radiant orange, lighting his very imagination aflame. Every word spoken by that voice now grows a fraction louder with each soft, crunching step through the snow.

Unsure who's done this so far, but wanting to throw out some tags for @indestructibleheart @thinkof-england @whimsymanaged @sparklepocalypse @duchessdepolignaca03 @ships-to-sail @magicandarchery @suseagull04 @rockyroadkylers @inexplicablymine @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @affectionatelyrs @lizzie-bennetdarcy @songliili @priincebutt @daisymae-12 @happiness-of-the-pursuit @leaves-of-laurelin @roseharpermaxwell @adreamareads @indomitable-love @cricketnationrise @clottedcreamfudge @ninzied

#year in review: favorite lines #year in review #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my writing

[katerinaptrv]

Babe was so overwhelmed with guilt, pain and grief for Chalie’s death that he just needed do to something or he would fall apart. It fills him with rage that in times like this his mind goes to Way, not knowing if it was because he was his best friend for ten years or if was the remaining of all the mind control he did on him. 

He remembered Way always saying to go to him whenever he felt like this, maybe he manipulated his mind for it. 

That enraged him further, how dare he intrude on his mourning for Charlie, but the more the thought about it, the more he found likely for his fake friend to have a part in his lovers death. 

He hated Charlie from the beginning because of his twisted jealousy and possession of him. Tried to separate them both so many times. After all the lying, maniputaling and sexual assault attempt, he believed his former “friend ” capable of anything. Who would say he would not go this far to keep them apart from each other?

That gave him a new purpose, he got his jacket and went to the bar where he knew he would find him. 

Seeing Way just bring up all the pain of his betrayal again, so Babe did not waste a second and punched him, throwing him and asking in rage: What did you do to Charlie? What did you do? 

Way denied it of course,had the audacity to quote them as family but at this point Babe was not even listening to him. He was feeling so much, all at the same time. And punching Way felt good, felt like revenge for him, for Charlie.

He was getting ready to throw another blow at him when someone stopped it and threw him away from Way. Babe's eyes go looking for the person in disbelief and was shocked to find Pete, now hiding Way behind him, standing in front of him protectively. 

- WTF, Pete, what are you doing? He asks enraged. 

- He said he did not do it, if you want to continue to interrogate him use your words. 

- Are you on his side? What the fuck is this? He deserves every punch I throw at him!! 

- I don't care if you think he deserves it, I am not letting you touch him again. 

Babe was beside himself after this, he did not want to fight with Pete, they needed him as an ally to take Tony out. He honestly did not have the emotional capacity to deal with whatever is happening here right now so he gives them both a disgusted look and turns back and leaves. 

The second Babe goes and the danger is gone Pete turns to Way, getting close to him and gently helping him up. 

- Are you okay? Did you want me to help you get home? 

- I'm fine, thank you. 

- I am not going to let anyone hurt you on my watch Way. 

Pete says that giving one of his very serious looks that he always seems to give Way since they met. He always seemed to be there for Way lately, just quietly sit with him drinking, helping his drunken ass get home, listening to his laments without judging him or even protecting him from Babe's rage apparently. 

Way could not fathom why he acted like this but he was thankful for it.

NA: Here it is, I have to write it, it would not leave my mind. Just as a disclaimer I am not a Way defender and fully support and enjoy Babe punching him now or in the future. But I could totally see this happening if Pete was there at the moment. I tried to portray Babe's feelings and mental state at the moment but it was hard. I did not dwell on Way's POV because I can't understand him at all but I do think he is too self absorbed to realize Pete's feelings for him. I probably revise this and post it on ao3 later.

#pit babe the series #peteway

[therealemaskye]

it is desperately missing sanders sides hours (which is pretty much every hour for me) and i just rewatched my favorite sanders sides related video to date: “flirting with anxiety.” i have so many thoughts on this episode i thought i’d throw them out into the void that is tumblr. here is my unorganized list:

• the first thing that comes to mind when rewatching this episode is just how much roman and virgil have grown together. as a comparison, let’s use the only other video they had with each other. in “the dark side of disney,” roman was annoyed at virgil simply being there. he was in disbelief that virgil could even be a fan of something like disney. to quote roman, “disney movies are the embodiment of goodness and purity; something you would know nothing about.” throughout “flirting with anxiety,” just by the body language you can tell how comfortable the two are with each other. they bounce off of each other with ease, and make up a pretty entertaining matchmaking team, which is something roman once thought virgil couldn’t understand: love. both episodes are almost similar, though, in that both roman and virgil bring different sides to the table (pun not entirely intended). in “the dark side of disney,” roman and virgil discuss the different messages they see in disney movies; in “flirting with anxiety,” the two have very different approaches when it comes to flirting. their differences, which once made them argue with each other, now made them a team.

• as well as having their differences, we also see how much they have in common. when you think about it, there’s a lot; more specifically in what they like. bringing this back to “the dark side of disney,” it feels like they’ve come full circle from where they started, back when they discovered they could even have the same interests at all. the stickers on nico’s laptop stood out to me as sort of easter eggs to these kinds of moments in the past: the disney sticker (the dark side of disney), the paramore sticker (roman must have called virgil a nickname related to this somehow; also, emo music is a perfect combination), and the nightmare before christmas sticker (accepting anxiety: “you can’t have my sick nasty tim burton posters!”).

• this next note is the whole reason i wanted to make this post really: thomas’ monologue in the bathroom. on the surface of “flirting with anxiety,” there are no telling references to what had happened previously in the canon timeline: “putting others first.” this asides episode was sort of a breath of fresh air after the messy cliffhanger in the main series. now, i don’t know if this was intentional or not — but looking closer, this entire scene is full of insight into what roman specifically is feeling after the events of svs redux. let’s break it down:

1.) “look, i know this is awkward… and maybe not the best place to strike up a conversation. …i don’t really know what to say to you; i honestly don’t know what i’m doing at the mall today. i don’t know what i was looking for… i guess that answers my question: the mall is where you go if you want something, but you don’t know what it is because the mall has everything, right?” at the end of this quote, the frame shows roman looking in the mirror with an almost painful expression. he seems to realize how close those words hit to home: roman is lost. after everything that happened, roman has to be feeling like his world has turned upside down. he is unconsciously avoiding the issue by making thomas feel like he has to go to the mall. roman is the part of thomas that doesn’t know what he’s looking for.

2.) “i don’t know… ugh, i don’t know a lot about anything… least of all myself. …and i feel that the hardest when it comes to… knowing what i want.” once again, the frame is a cut to roman. it is such a punch to the gut, because this is exactly what caused the whole mess in the first place. think about it — who was the most torn on the wedding or the callback? it wasn’t patton or janus, logan or virgil: roman didn’t know what he wanted. roman has clearly followed patton’s lead since the beginning; he wanted to be the pure and good prince that he was, and patton was just that to him — pure and good. yet, he would do anything to achieve his dreams — thomas’ dreams. that included ditching a friend’s wedding, and friendship is something that roman holds as dear to his heart as patton does. roman was by far the most torn of all sides about this decision; that’s why it was so impactful that roman was the one to decide to go to the wedding. from the get go you could tell he didn’t want to, but at his core, he is a fundamentally good person; someone who is righteous for righteousness’ sake. this is a value that stems directly from his admiration for patton: so you can imagine how blindsided he was when patton had a change of heart in svs redux. to roman, this huge, personal sacrifice he made was for naught.

3.) “but i know that… i want to take a chance… and talk to you. i have to, because… i don’t know when i’m going to know what i want again… and i know that if i don’t act on these feelings right now, i’m… going to regret it.” the one thing roman is so sure that he wants, and always has wanted.. is love. there’s the placement of the panels again; when thomas says, “i don’t know when i’m going to know what i want again,” the panel has roman in frame. it’s almost as if that is what roman himself is thinking — finally, he has a chance to get something he knows he wants, and it isn’t out of reach. but then after that, when thomas says, “and i know that if i don’t act on these feelings right now, i’m… going to regret it,” it is virgil in frame the entire time. virgil’s feelings on the whole svs redux matter are entirely up to fan interpretation — he wasn’t present at all. i at least can provide evidence as to what i think he is feeling with this frame — virgil knows how much roman regrets going to that wedding. as we know, virgil fervently sided with patton in “selfishness v. selflessness.” now, i don’t think it’s because he truly believes it to be the right decision; he’s anxiety. he was the part of thomas that irrationally worried that if he didn’t show up to his friends’ wedding, thomas would lose them forever. plus, virgil is a follower, not a leader; he states as such in “fitting in.” before, as a dark side, he followed janus; now, he has latched on to someone else: patton. to him, not agreeing with patton meant agreeing with janus; you can imagine his feelings on that. so, maybe virgil regrets his own stance on the case — moral of the story, virgil is tired of regrets. he knows how horrible they are first hand, being anxiety and all; and i like to think he’d rather not put roman through that any more if he can help it. at this moment, virgil knows he has to do something to make this thing happen — which later turns out to be virgil taking that leap of faith, and pushing thomas back to nico.

• don’t worry, i’m going to touch on where i just left off; but, i’d like to bring up another note that made me want to do this. it is honestly very hard not to notice that throughout the entire episode, roman and virgil never fail to bring one thing up: lies. they scold thomas for lying and even call him a liar multiple times. when they exit the bathroom, the both of them are adamant that if they are to go forward, the basis of a potential relationship cannot be deceit. it is so obvious that roman and virgil are the two sides who hold the most disdain for janus; janus is a reminder of what they have failed to do. for virgil, janus was a part of his life that he regrets because of how he mistreated thomas and the group. for roman, he wanted exactly what janus wanted as well: to go to the callback. janus proved that thomas could’ve and should’ve gone to the callback, something that roman wasn’t able to do.

• before going into the most prinxiety part of this post, i’d lastly like to expand on nico’s song idea: “i think i like the idea of someone’s life, or an aspect of of their life feeling like… a trash bin. and the waste keeps piling up… and piling up… until it inevitably… spills out into the rest of their life.” funnily enough, nico apologizes if it hit to close to home, and thomas adds that it’s true: his life is full of wasted opportunities. this once again feels like a reference to the callback. the entire explanation, though, feels like foreshadowing to the future of sanders sides. as i’ve discussed, there is clearly a divide among the sides; the biggest one they’ve ever had. yet, there lacks a resolution to the issue at the moment. it seems that all of it will continue to pile up until the repression of their glaring problem spills out into thomas’ life.

• i’d argue this is the most important scene in this episode: virgil pushing thomas. the look of dejection on roman’s face as nico walks away is a reminder that virgil is indeed tired of regrets. at that moment, i don’t think there was a single other reason why he did what he did than virgil’s desperate need to see roman happy again. whether you ship it or not, it is clear how much these two care for each other, especially in their last interaction. virgil is constantly surprising roman — i like to think that’s why he started to like him so much. the moment that virgil pushed thomas was probably one of the most surprising things roman has ever seen from him, though. a very, very wonderful surprise. you can just tell how much admiration roman has after virgil has done this just by the one word he uses: bravery. let’s take this back to “fitting in.” roman is very clearly protective of his house and its noble traits, and bravery is one of the most important ones of all for a gryffindor. bravery is what roman is all about; when roman calls virgil brave, it is one of the biggest compliments he could give someone. then you can just feel it in your bones the warm affection behind “shut up, emo,” and its subsequent shoulder touch. it showcases, once again, a huge contrast in how they use to behave with one another — there is so much fondness and respect that wasn’t there before. this is honestly one of (if not the most) heartfelt scene in the series.

and that is all! if you got all the way through my terribly long rambling, thank you for listening! this show means so much to me and i miss it so much thomas pls drop the next episode challenge (but also no pressure). if you couldn’t tell i’m a roman stan. okay byyye.

#prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #ts creativity #ts anxiety #sanders sides #sanders asides #flirting with anxiety #selfishness vs selflessness #putting others first #thomas sanders #ts prinxiety

[hanasnx]

OMG HAK FOR SURE LOVES TO BE CALLED DAD!! I WROTE A LITTLE SOMETHINGG SORRY IF ITS LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAYY (excuse my bad writing skills, i’m new to this 😪)

hak was used to being called many things - commander, friend, protector. nothing out of the ordinary, till now. it started slow, just your wet heat wrapped around his fingers, sliding them in and out to watch that translucent cream slick his thick fingers up. but then came that voice, soft and breathless. "dad..." you whispered, your body arching up to his touch. he had never thought he would hear those words - "dad" - from your lips, but there it was. it hit him like a punch to the gut, an unexpected wave of emotion. he paused for a moment, staring down at your pussy clenching around nothing, his mind racing. then, without warning, he plunged three fingers deep inside you. he'd been a father figure to you for so long, but this new title felt...right. and god, did it turn him on. you screamed his name, arching your back. "say it again, baby," he demanded gruffly. "c’mon— ’thas it, who’s making you feel good? hm? dad, right?” he could feel your walls gripping his fingers, milking him dry. it was almost too much. “fuuuck.. yer’ dripping all over these fingers, that shit turn you on, huh? Know it does.” he coo’s, pressing kisses to your ear. his fingers dug into your folds, pushing them deeper to make sure you were extra stretched open. also making sure to rub at the little clit that peeked from the hood, ensuring a short relief and eliciting a soft whimper from your throat which made him hum. “yeah, dad makes it all better, right? alll better, princess.”

— source.

my vision went in and out. felt dizzy. looked at these words with utter disbelief. i gatekept this message anon. give yourself a fucking emoji rn you freak. i want you in my inbox all the time

usually i like to pick out my favorite lines but i would essentially be quoting the whole thing. like what do i even say that'll be worthy of this. im biting the fuck outta my finger because im so speechless trying to find the words. anon you've floored me. what can i even define it as this is so fucking good, this is fucking fantastic. im hard aching and leaking rn

everything about it is perfect. pick an emoji i expect to see you around. god im on the verge of whimpering n shit rn.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!! #anon #ch: hak #hak prompt #tw daddy kink

[silenthillmutual]

my buddy @doomednarrative tagged me in a fic writer's ask game so ^_^ let's do this!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

on my current account i have 154. being unemployed and hypomanic during lockdown will do that to you.

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

895,907. i can't tell if that's a normal distribution for my fic count or not.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

at the moment: silent hill, bloodborne, and pathologic. most of what i have up there is for pathologic. i've got other fandoms up there though.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

eight, thirty-one - 1899 kudos (danganronpa)

to quote mika, age 35, of beirut, lebanon: "where have all the good (gay) guys gone?" - 1066 kudos (danganronpa)

(they long to be) close to you - 1021 kudos (mob psycho 100)

all jotaro wants for christmas is kakyoin (and he screws that up) - 810 kudos (jojo's bizarre adventure)

anticlimax - 796 kudos (danganronpa)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i've responded to most comments i've gotten, though it's always months late because i tend to read the e-mail first thing in the morning, head to work, and completely forget to respond. responding feels more personal. i know i'd be more likely to comment on someone's fics if i knew they appreciated it, so i try to make the effort, even if i struggle to know what to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

god this is old as hell but probably life in technicolor/the end of all things. they're life is strange style aus for one punch man and genos dies at the end of one of them, and at the end of the other the city is destroyed. the fics are connected, but i won't say how.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

so tired, so tired, my heart and i (pathologic) is probably the sappiest i've ever written a fic so i'm guessing that one!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

occasionally. i got transmisogynist hate for when you finally get inovlved, face to face for writing chihiro as a trans girl, and it made me stop writing for danganronpa altogether. i got a guest user on some burakhovsky nsfw i posted (idr which one) who said "jesus christ, tag your trans shit". and someone who went off on me years ago called vita in motu (pathologic) "borderline mpreg" and they very much meant it derogatorily. so if i seem a lil paranoid about interacting w people there's a reason why lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

i do! i actually write more smut than i post because i am not showing everyone my oc/canon smut. like some friends will be able to see it but i'm not brave enough to show the whole world that. also a lot of au smut recently that has no context and i'm not posting it to ao3 without context.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

i did moreso in the past than currently. we're not gonna talk about the craziest one though<3 love and light

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nah. i've had people write fic very inspired by stuff i've written but not copy-and-paste stolen, to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

people have asked but as far as i know it never happened. always thought it would be cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes!! w my buddy dj :) also published rps in the past that i shaped up into fics.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

mulder/scully is The Ship Of All Time to me. the blueprint.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh there's a few!!

a rebel without a case rewrite that i started because i wanted to fix what i saw as timing issues in the film.

an akira/mob psycho 100... crossover? au? both? i had some real ideas for that one but it's not going anywhere

a silent hill au for mob psycho 100 that apprently someone was interested in enough to try and make their own while referencing mine. it was an audience participation fic and i'm honestly upset that i lost steam on this one because it was a lot of fun!

a magnus archives statement from artemy burakh. the idea behind that one was that he saw daniil die, and then be replaced by another actor... but artemy's the only one who noticed the different actor.

literally dozens of pathologic fics that i have started like you have no idea just how much i have started for that stupid game.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'm not sure! my partner says i do vagueness well, and the unease that comes with that. i think i do decent at introspection in general

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

action for sure. i tend to do better with thought than with action, so i can write really long scenes where absolutely nothing hapens. kind of an issue!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't really do it because i only know like...extremely basic german and i feel it'd be a disservice to other languages to just google translate. i will occasionally describe characters using sign, but again... not knowing it, i don't feel comfortable just saying shit, you know?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i wrote something like fanfic as a like, eight year old? for a book series i can no longer remember. but for first published fanfic it was either bones or soul eater. those fics might still be out there, who knows!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i don't really have one! i'm still really proud of o tempora, o mores (pathologic), vita in motu (pathologic), and my mind has changed my body's frame (bloodborne) <- less sure of that one bc not much feedback but y'know!

who shall i tag.... @stvlti, @brodyliciousbooty, @loudmound, @go-go-devil, @shogoakuji and anyone else who writes, consider yourself tagged :P !

#icarus.txt #ominous fic talk #if you write and i missed you in my tag it is NOT on p urpose i promise #my brain just. poofed out of existence.

[inbabylontheywept]

The Condom Bomber

The crux of the story is Brother Dean. Brother Dean was…is…a hate preacher. Red or blue, everyone agreed on that. His origins and his motivations, those were a little more mysterious. Different groups had their own legends. I had a class with a guy that was part of the campus pro-life movement, and the tale he gave me is the one that I give the most credence to. According to him, Brother Dean had started out as a “normal” pro-life preacher. He’d gone around campus, led parades, given speeches… And then he’d gotten punched in the face.

This led to a lawsuit against the school. Something about failing to provide adequate protection? The main result was that he got something like half a mil. Half a mil is an incredible amount if you’re still working, but he’d tried to use the money to fund a sort of pro-life career, and it had just… trickled down. Ten years later he was running dead low on funds, and had taken to the particularly dumb strategy of trying to get punched in the face again. You know. For economic reasons. It had become kind of a vicious cycle: He’d started off saying some objectionable shit to try and goad someone into taking the punch. The worse the shit he said was, the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, and the harder it became for him to find work doing anything else, the less he had to lose by saying really objectionable shit. Throw in two years of living on ramen, and he was so desperate to get punched that he was quoting the Westboro Baptists. If you know, you know. The pro-life group, to their credit, hated him the most out of anyone. They viewed him as the ultimate sellout, someone who was actively making their positions and beliefs look worse by the day, solely for his own enrichment. The other conservative groups held him in the same regard. The rest of the campus hated him for simpler reasons. It would be difficult to find anyone more detested anywhere else on site. Brother Dean’s antithesis was the Trojan Warrior. TW was a normal student by day, but maybe once a month or so he’d don his hoplite armor and roam around, handing out free condoms. Trojan condoms. It was kind of his shtick. Between the costume, and the whole character that he had going on, most people didn’t really recognize his alter ego. I myself am pretty good with faces, so one day I noticed he was behind me in the foodcourt and decided to thank him by paying for his smoothie. Small tangent, but if you’re looking to get good stories, buying lunches for interesting people works like magic. TW decided that he was going to thank me for thanking him by giving me something like 10 feet of condom roll. I was mortified, aggressively single, and on SSRI’s. He was not sure how many of those were permanent. I wasn’t either. He wound up giving me just a handful, and said that if nothing else, they could probably be used as water balloons. I accepted. Who doesn’t like water balloons?

I finished my lunch with the warrior and left, considering targets for the "balloons". I passed by Brother Dean near the main commons and had my lightbulb moment. I spent a few minutes watching him from a distance, trying to find the optimal angle to get him without getting caught on camera (he always had someone filing in the background, it was a necessary thing for his hopeful future lawsuit). The time delay was useful for helping me realize that it really wasn't worth it. The sun had been bearing down so hard that the glue in my shoes had melted, and getting him wet would be a favor that day. 

So, mildly disappointed, I shelved my dream and left. 

A week later the monsoons hit. I left one class and ran to a campus computer commons to try and get some shelter and study between classes. Just before I got through the door, I saw Brother Dean, umbrella in hand, setting up his speaker and mic. He wasn't technically allowed this far into campus (the commons were owned by the city) but he'd gone to where his audience was and security was probably holed up somewhere cozy. I could hardly blame them. 

I made it up to the second floor and started studying when the mic picked up. All glass buildings are not very soundproof. He was loud, and he was annoying, and he was outside a library, under a balcony, and-

And I had condoms. Water balloon condoms. 

And he was under a balcony. 

I put my laptop away, pulled out my condom roll, and went to the bathroom. I wasn’t sure how big a condom could actually stretch, so I just kept filling it until it was about the size of basketball. Maybe a smaller watermelon? And thus armed, I waddled my way out into the halls. I cannot emphasize enough just how unsubtle this was. I was cradling this big, overfilled condom like some sort of phallic ghost baby, and it was so heavy that I sort of had to squat as I went. People saw me. Lots of people saw me. I passed by one room full of computer science students, all learning C++, and three of them waved at me. And I waved back in that my-arms-are-full-but-I’m-excited-to-see-you-too way, where you jut your wrist up a little bit and flap your hand around excitedly. I did, eventually, make it to the balcony. The building’s high ceilings made the second-floor thing kind of a misnomer: I was easily forty feet up. I scooched my way to the edge, and the view I had… it was perfect. Brother Dean was directly underneath, thank God. If he’d been even seven or eight feet out, I’m not sure if I could’ve shotput the condom-bomb far enough to hit him directly. Better yet his cameraman was only a few feet away from him, far too close to catch any action going up 40 feet above. I managed to wrestle the payload onto the balcony, and with a gentle push, I sent it and Dean to destiny. I realized that I’d made a mistake almost as soon as the condom began to fall. You know that sound that bombs make in cartoons, that long drawn out whistle? The condom made that sound. I had a second education in the seriousness of my mistake when the condom hit Dean’s umbrella. It did not pop. Of course it didn’t pop. I had no experience with condoms, I swear to you, I promise, I did not know how much they could stretch. You can fit your whole leg into them. You can fit them over whole park benches. A gallon and a half of water was nothing compared to that. It broke Dean’s umbrella. It hit the top, and it snapped the stem like a twig, and then-

Violence. Unspeakable violence. It clipped Dean’s shoulder and stretched down to his knees before recoiling back to its original shoulder height. It did not bounce. It floated in space, no wasted energy in the collision. One hundred percent of the kinetic energy, all 3300 Joules of it, were discharged into this sad wretch of a man. He did not collapse. There was no time for that. He rotated on his axis. It was as if the hand of God had reached down and grabbed him about his waist, only to twist. In a fraction of a second, his head filled the space where his ass had been and his ass filled the space where his head had been, and then his cheek, carried by the shuriken motion of his body, slammed into the pavement with a noise like Shaq slam dunking a porkchop. Maybe wetter.

He did not move.

I panicked.

I want to make it clear: I did not mean to assault this man. I meant to get him wet and embarrassed. But I also have to confess that this was a beating. Mike Tyson himself can only put about 1600 Joules into one of his punches, and if he hit me I would bounce off five walls before I fell. I would not wish 3300 Joules upon anyone.

I walked into the building and sat myself in the back of the C++ class. The people next to, to my immense and eternal gratitude, did not question why I was wet.

A minute later, Brother Dean stormed into the building with his microphone.

He yelled. He screamed. He hollered. He informed the entire world that he had been assaulted, with a condom, by someone on the second floor. I was ecstatic that he was alive. 

Every person in that class knew who had brought this hell upon them. Every single one of them knew it was me. And if I’d done this to someone else, some Steven Crowder, some Ben Shapiro, someone would’ve thrown me to the wolves. It would have only taken one person in that room of sixty. But Brother Dean was hated by everyone, literally everyone, and so the entire class sat in silence.

Some of that silence was gleeful, and some of it was bored, and some of it, a very small amount, was directly disapproving, but even the disapproving silence carried an understanding. A note of, “Yes, yes, that was very irresponsible, and you should not do that again, but who could blame you? Something needed to happen. Not that something, but…something.”

Security could be given grace to ignore the man when it was raining, and he was just outside the building, but they were not given such grace when he was inside with a microphone. Just a few short minutes later, a golfcart pulled up, and he was summarily marched out. There was maybe a minute of silence after that before the professor announced that his class was not open to visitors.

I left. He’d made his point.

It was a few weeks before I saw Brother Dean again, and his black eye still hadn’t healed all the way when I did. He was, however, still preaching the same old things as always. Percussive maintenance works better on vacuum tubes than human brains. I will say that he definitely made a point to stay away from balconies after that. And the next time it rained, I actually went out to watch him put his speaker and his mic into the back of a wagon and wheel it off the campus.

It appeared that he’d developed some opinions about the kind of weather he was willing to preach hate in.

#writing #writblr #creative fiction #the last tag is for legal reasons #college stories #biography #memoir #hijinks

[spectator-moon]

My thoughts on Martyn Secret life lore stream (Eyes and Ears AU)

first, Martyn why would you hurt me with that imagery? Poor scar ;-;

-I really like the idea of the logo being the pincer on the Watchers. Grian is a force of nature and should be represented as such

-I am of the personal belief that Jimmy did not break free from the canary curse, since he died right before Wither/Warden boss fight and the entire point of Canarys is to warn of danger

-slightly irralevently but I need to draw the Scar

-BOY do I love the idea of Gem being used as the Watchers new tool because of the Zombie outbreak (send Gem all the love for that skill!!!)

-love Gem being taken by Watchers in general, especially adding in her lore that in Empires she thought everybody was just roleplaying, so she came in thinking it was roleplay and got stuck.

-i also like the idea of Jimmy getting struck down because of the Watchers being confused by his "funeral" and once Lizzy dies, then going "wait no he's supposed to be dead hold on-" and striking him down immediately

-i need more ideas for art. Also references. Please more references proportions are awful

-"if given the right tools, how many seeds of chaos can {Gem} sow, and it turns out, she's a bloody good farmer." Good quote. Make art for quote

-negative emotions being ~spicy~

-martyn being the seperate party in the gang of winners

-the watchers pushed Jimmy off a ledge

-players still having that sense of connections and support (i.e. swapping out) despite being in murder games (also I love the idea that when the Listeners swap out players, the players get a choice, so it's all the much more heartbreaking)

-(personal headcanon that Ren was desperately hoping Martyn would recognize him in Tango's body)

-(personal headcanon that all players start new life series incredibly sore from being tensed as they fall, even though they're unconscious)

-(other personal headcanon that fragmented players i.e. life series players are the only ones who can see the fragments on other servers)

-Speakers maybe being part of a group which works as mercenarys (being paid in whatever currency they use to give players the task of helping each other) (speakers being true neutral)

-y'all imagine the cinematic beauty of the climax I want full animaticssss

-Grian couldn't cash in on success because he either isn't fully in, or because the Watchers are being petty

-the two watchers being the actually evil equivalent of Jesse and James from pokemon

-Grian has emotions about previous series absolutely stunning idea

-like the idea that Winners get to keep their emotions (hence Pearl and Tilly, Grian w/ Scar, etc)

-Fragement lore fragment lore fragment lore

-THE PLAYERS ALL HAVE FRAGMENTS AND I NEED TO CHECK THE POST WHERE EVERYONE PUT THEIR IDEAS FOR PLACES

-Martyn is furry (fragment dog collar) (very not serious)

-fragments appear as important moments from lore? (Can Scar just have a big ol' one where he got punched in the face by Grian from third life?) (I know they don't appear because final death but it was a generator of so much angst)

-autocorrect my beloathed. (Grian ≠ Groan)

-sometimes fragments become scars, and everybody gets confused because "this moment wasn't important I have no emotional attachment to this moment why is there a scar?"

-PLAYERS CANNOT REMEMBER THE EMOTION GOBBLING AND ARE JUST GENERALLY CONFUSED WHEN THEY HAVE AN EMOTIONAL REACTION TO SOMETHING SOMEBODY SAYS

-headcanon that the Watchers do a real shoddy job at emotion gobbling and often leave the memory, which can prompt an emotional reaction. Also, Watchers actively ignore certain negative moments in favour of those spawning more negative emotions (like a cobblestone generator but for negative emotions)

-datastream Martyn??? Please explain I have not the time to watch all the vods

-eeeee winner theory!!!!!

-we love Villain scar

-PEOPLE CAN SHATTER IF THEYRE TOO FRAGMENTED OH MY GODS PLEASE FANART AND FICS

-so wait if they get to watch how it ends does that mean they had to sit and watch Scar go insane???? That makes that sadder

-so without any knowledge of Datastream Martyn, can I suggest that mayhaps datastream means that literally Martyn leaps between worlds by moving through the literal data stream? I have seen references to a Doc, so maybe he and Martyn were experimenting and Martyn got stuck? I know something happened to Doc, probably bad given that the reference was 'yes the red stuff was definitely ketchup', so was it because of the knowledge he has gained? Again, never seen any data stream so take all of this with a grain of salt. I just like analysing stories and have read enough to be able to pick out plotlines fairly well.

-oooh lore comic i want to read that

-Secret Keeper is Watchers putting on a trench coat and going "yes yes no watchers here yes yes"

-imagine how invasive it would be to spawn in and just KNOW the rules, with no background for why or how you have that information. Boy that could be a cesspit for angst. Imagine the panic of that inserted information. (Grian has to calm somebody down fic???)

-new lore enjoyer, but I love this already.

-making a proper movie with this concept would be AMAZING

-players were kidnapped lmao

-Scott having that forewarning for Jimmy and Scar is a funny thought

-Listeners are oldest children fighting their middle siblings (Watchers) because Mom and Dad will blame them for the poor player hurt

Making a part two because this is so long already

#secret life #martyn inthelittlewood #lore #Secret life lore #grian #watchers #listeners #fragments #eaefragments

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - July 2022. Haha you thought I was going to be late, didn’t you? And to be fair I’ve only made it into my normal timeframe by 2hrs but I count this as still making it. So! Onto more fics - enjoy!

In The Name Of Science by Nutellargh (1/1 | 1K | General)

Submission for incorrect sterek quotes challenge March 2021

Prompt: derek - Yesterday I overheard erica saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and stiles replying “Trust me.” and I have never fled a room so fast in my life.

Connecting the Dots by thePurebloodPrat (1/1 | 4K | Mature)

"The sharp clatter of his mug of dry erase markers hitting the floor isn’t enough to draw Stiles’ attention away from the clue board he’s staring at from an uncomfortably short distance, but his hand failing to make contact with a new pen while blindly fumbling for said missing mug finally is. He takes a moment to scrub a hand over his eyes and he drops to the floor to pull the markers out from under the desk where they’d rolled, mumbling to himself about rewriting the last section he’d scribbled on the board in red instead of yellow. This was only a… minor setback. The third one in as many hours, but that was hardly the important part. The people disappearing throughout Beacon Hills only to be discovered exactly eight days later in eight separate pieces, well… That seems like the part that’s far more important."

---

Stiles has been awake far longer than he really ought to have been. Derek doesn't want to admit it, but when Stiles doesn't harass him after school the day after finding out about a new supernatural sighting, he gets concerned.

punch-drunk by elisela (1/1 | 6K | Mature)

Derek knows he’s staring, knows he should stop, drag his focus back to his daughter and not this—this stranger, gorgeous as he is with his slight upturned nose and bright eyes, lips that Derek is going to see in his dreams and long fingers folded into a fist that his jaw rests on. He should stop staring but he feels punch-drunk, knocked off his feet by the overwhelming attraction he feels, blood pumping so fast he can hear it rushing in his ears, can feel it in his pulse points.

The guy turns his head to look up at Derek and winks—winks, and Derek gets a glimpse of a black bar that pierces through the end of his eyebrow, and he realizes he really needs to grab Evie and get out of there when he starts wondering if this guy has a tongue piercing to go along with the rest, or just how far across his broad shoulders the tattoos go, if they stretch all the way down his tapered hips, lines like a map for Derek to follow with his tongue.

Tell Me, So I Know by TroubleIWant (1/1 | 7K | Mature)

It took years for Derek to finally confront the way he felt about Stiles, and even after he figured it out he could only explain in Spanish. It took them two years more to get to where they were now. Only with neither of them quite willing to commit, where exactly is that, anyways?

Well, for Stiles it’s a deserted stretch of road behind the Hale house, half trapped in a car wreck after being abducted by hunters. Frankly, he could really use Derek’s help if he’s going to get out of this alive. Mates are supposed to be able to tell when the other is in pain, right? As Derek would probably say, 'querido, no.'

Or, a love story in two parts... and two languages.

Sexily Ever After by indentations (whenwordsmakesense) (1/1 | 1K | Explicit)

After fighting off the latest supernatural terror loose on their town, Derek and Stiles finally find their way to each other.

Operation: Chick Flick by Inell (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Stiles knows agreeing to be Derek’s fake date for Cora’s wedding is the stupidest thing he’s ever done, but it’s a little difficult to say no to the man he’s been in love with for seven years.

Inattentional Blindness by aussiebee (1/1 | 5K | Explicit)

Derek finally sees Stiles... and then promptly melts down about it.

He’s two people away from the counter, though, when it happens. Derek has just finished scanning the board overhead and let his eyes drift back down to the guy just in time to see him bend down to pick up his backpack from the floor when the guy turns. There’s a moment of complete cessation of brain activity when Derek’s libido registers lips! Eyes! Skinnnnn! before his thoughts begin spinning like a Gravitron, turning his brain to paste against the inside of his skull because what the fuck, the guy he’s been quietly lusting over while he waits in line for coffee is fucking Stiles.

What Derek says when he thinks Stiles wont understand by Delilah2040 (1/1 | 3K | General)

five times Derek complimented Stiles in Spanish thinking he wouldn't understand and the one time stiles confesses not only that he understood the whole time but much much more.

Hot Gym Guy by jesuisgrace (1/1 | 900 | Mature)

“What are you looking at, Stiles?”

Stiles looks up from his phone to find Hot Gym Guy smirking at him. Fuck. He definitely doesn’t blush and stammer because he definitely wasn’t just looking at Hot Gym Guy’s instagram. Absolutely, definitely wasn’t watching him squat for the millionth time since he posted the story yesterday afternoon.

My Tongue Dances Behind My Lips by xxjinchuurikixx (1/1 | 8K | Explicit)

Stiles is seventeen and very, very horny. Derek just adds to the hormones, and Stiles likes to torture himself, getting off to thought of Derek’s hands, his mouth, his everything. Mostly those things on Stiles in some way. One night, Derek gets him to spill the truth.

princecharmingwinks special mention (I only recently fell into a bodyguard Derek and president son Stiles vibe but I like it very much ! And this fic is an awesome example of it <3 )

reGuardless by raisesomehale (1/1 | 3K | Mature)

The president had been to the point when he explained to Derek the rules of the job.

Stiles was in the room while these rules were recited: Never take your eyes off of him in public. That’s how he liked to dodge his last bodyguards. No more than an arm's length apart. He’s more slippery than you’d think. Escort him to and from appearances. Intervene in any situation that might tarnish the Stilinski image...

The list went on and on. As did the games of chicken Stiles initiated to test Derek with these rules.

Enjoy enjoy! Hope you find some good reads here. Remember to leave kudos and comments so we can give virtual big hugs to our amazing fandom writers. Till next time!

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

[shortpplfedup]

My School President Episode 12: Curtain call

When a great show comes to an end there's always nerves about whether they can stick the landing. I'm here to tell you: My School President absolutely has, not a wobble. This show is about standing on the cusp of adulthood, about to take that first step into the future, and everything that comes along with that, looking backward and forward at the same moment. This episode put an exclamation point on that theme, not just for our boys, but for the people around them and the world they're inhabiting. Throw in a couple of absolute banger anthemic OSTs and they couldn't have ended this little high-school-musical-that-could any better. In this final episode, we say goodbye (for now, Our Skyy is coming) to Chinzhilla and crew.

Verse: The kids are alright

Love's in need of love today Don't delay Send yours in right away Hate's goin' 'round Breaking many hearts Stop it please Before it's gone too far, yeah

Stevie Wonder | Love's In Need of Love Today (1976)

One thing I don't envy about kids today is how exposed they are. As an elder Millennial, I straddle the line between the pre-internet world and the ubiquitous social media age, but I was already an adult when Facebook exploded into life. I can't imagine the pressure of trying to figure yourself out as a teenager in a world where it must feel like everybody sees everything you do and has an opinion on it. But the flipside of that is slowly becoming 'and?'. The student body's vociferous and overwhelmingly positive support for Tinn and Gun as a couple once the secret's out just about drowns out the bullshit coming from the adults about 'reputation' and 'manliness'. The kids are better than us, and they've got each other's backs, and they will ABSOLUTELY DECK A SHITTY TEACHER FOR SAYING A BUNCH OF HOMOPHOBIC GARBAGE OMG KAJORN! One of my favourite quotes of all time is from Martin Luther King Jr.: the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. Change takes a long time, but things DO get better, they're getting better every day, every moment. The dinosaurs do seem long lived, and they do lay eggs, but they're being outnumbered by the humans more and more. I watch these kids do their very best to be good to each other, and I feel like the good guys are winning.

Chorus: Rock & Star

For once in my life, I have someone who needs me Someone I've needed so long For once, unafraid, I can go where life leads me Somehow I know I'll be strong For once I can touch what my heart used to dream of Long before I knew Ooh, someone warm like you Would make my dreams come true

Stevie Wonder | For Once In My Life (1968)

Gosh Tinn and Gun are lovely aren't they? The way they care for each other, how upset Gun is that Tinn was outed before he was ready, how responsible and guilty he feels about that, how he tries to put some distance between them to save Tinn's reputation, and how Tinn says 'screw all that shit, we're standing together'...that's love. How Tinn's winding up to punch that shitty teacher in the face for making Gun cry before Kajorn does it for him...that's love. How Gun wrote 'Rock & Star' from his heart and sings it directly to Tinn at prom, in front of everybody, telling everybody how he feels live on stage just like he promised he would if they won Hot Wave...that's love. Gun nervously practising how to greet Tinn's dad when he goes over to their house for dinner...that's love. And to top it all off, one very sweet, perfect kiss.

Bridge: A Tale of Two Moms

As today I know I'm living But tomorrow could make me the past But that I mustn't fear For I'll know deep in my mind The love of me I've left behind 'Cause I'll be loving you always

Stevie Wonder | As (1976)

I told y'all the words that were going to come out of Potjanee's mouth were 'I'm sorry', and I was right! I love how the show juxtaposed the two moms' conversations with their sons this ep, with Gun and Ms. Gim showing how easy it can be when you are open with your kid, and Tinn and Ms. Potjanee showing how it can be a struggle to communicate when you haven't created that environment. Gun is nervous to tell Ms. Gim, but not fearful. Tinn on the other hand...it's almost like he's bracing for impact the closer Ms. Potjanee gets to asking about it. Both moms love their kids and their kids know and feel it. Both moms are actually ok in the end with their kids being queer. But only one kid felt safe enough to tell their mom they were dating a boy. It's important nuance, that subtle difference in trust level. The pressures and expectations you put on your kids, what you label as important, they're seeing and feeling all of that, not just what you say. In this case, the messages growing up were different: from Ms. Gim, 'do what makes you happy' and from Ms. Potjanee 'do the right thing'. Neither is WRONG, but again that subtle difference. The circumstances were less than ideal, but I'm glad Tinn got to see his mom stand up so forcefully for his happiness, not just his rightness.

Outro: Chinzhilla forever

Music is a world within itself With a language we all understand With an equal opportunity For all to sing, dance and clap their hands

Stevie Wonder | Sir Duke (1976)

And so we say farewell to Chinzhilla, or at least to this iteration of it, with the promise of a new Chinzhilla to come as juniors apply to the club in waves. There's a comfort to knowing that even as we leave this universe, there will soon be some new group of kids who will become friends...nay, a family, eating BBQ pork, playing video games, making offerings to the Holy Chinchilla, and learning the chords for 'You Got Ma Back'.

Ad Libs

Of course our baby Por is the only Chinzhilla who DIDN'T know or figure out about Tinn and Gun. Sweet summer child. Who's going to law school. Prime setup for a BL Legally Blonde GMMTV!

Poor Pat, the 9th (!) wheel.

I didn't have a Sound/Win kiss on my bingo card, but that was a lovely little surprise. I adore these two.

So Pat is gonna be a pharmacist, Yo, a politician (!), Por a lawyer, Sound an actor, Win a sound engineer and Gun...Gun's gonna be a musician. Not bad for a bunch of slackers.

#my school president #chinzhilla rocks! #Spotify #bl meta series