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natsgrave · 8 months ago

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WHISPERS OF HEARTACHE | angstober

╰┈➤ synopsis: one day whether you are, 14, 28, or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. however, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.

╰┈➤ welcome and short message: main m.list hello, my sweet gravels! i am thrilled to welcome you to "whispers of heartache," a collection of angst-filled one shots centered around the compelling characters of natasha romanoff / scarlett johansson, wanda maximoff / elizabeth olsen, and a female reader. this book is a labor of love, crafted from my deep admiration for these characters and my passion for storytelling. in this book, you will find a series of emotionally charged stories that delve into the complexities of love, loss, and heartache. each one shot will be written in the third person point of view, offering a broad perspective on the intense and often tumultuous emotions experienced by the characters. i must share that english is not my first language. therefore, you may encounter some grammatical errors or awkward phrasing throughout the stories. i appreciate your understanding and patience as i strive to improve my writing skills. my goal is to convey the depth of emotions and the intricate dynamics between the characters, even if my language skills are still a work in progress. angst has a unique power to connect with readers on a deep, emotional level. it explores the raw, often painful aspects of human relationships and personal struggles. through these stories, i hope to capture the essence of what it means to love and to lose, to fight and to surrender. each tale is crafted to evoke empathy and reflection, inviting you to experience the characters' journeys as if they were your own. your reblogs and feedback is incredibly valuable to me. as i embark on this storytelling journey, i welcome your thoughts, suggestions, and constructive criticism. please feel free to leave comments and reviews. your input will not only help me grow as a writer but also ensure that the stories resonate with you, the readers. thank you for joining me in this exploration of the whispers of heartache. i hope that these one shots will touch your heart and leave a lasting impression. happy reading! warm regards, G.J ps: i will be adding the first few angst that i already wrote in this masterlist even though it's technically not part of this masterlist. but, it's angst, so...

╰┈➤ tolerate it

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x gf!reader

╰┈➤ new year's day

i want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day. please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere. ── .✦ pairing: sister's bsf!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ midnight rain

she was sunshine, i was midnight rain. she wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ you're losing me

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

╰┈➤ in the next lifetime

but in those photos, i saw us instead and, somehow, i know that you and i would've found each other in another life. you still would've turned my head even if we'd met. you're always gonna be mine, we're gonna be timeless. ── .✦ pairing: general's son!steve x general's daughter!reader, maid!natasha x general's daughter!reader, scarlett johansson x fem!reader

╰┈➤ the manuscript

the only thing that's left is the manuscript. one last souvenir from my trip to your shores. now and then i reread the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

╰┈➤ the smallest woman who ever lived

and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x ex hydra!reader

╰┈➤ favorite crime

i hope i was your favorite crime, 'cause baby, you were mine. ── .✦ pairing: bsf!wanda x fem!reader

╰┈➤ mean it

on your lips just leave it, if you don't mean it. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x gf!reader

╰┈➤ love me nicely

i know you love me, but could you love me nicely? ── .✦ pairing: toxic!elizabeth x gf!reader

╰┈➤ if the world was ending

i know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine. i know, you know, we know, we weren't meant for each other and it's fine. but if the world was ending you'd come over, right? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!wanda x fem!reader

╰┈➤ soulmate

what a shame, didn't want to be the one that got away. taking down the pictures and the plans we made. big mistake, you broke the sweetest promise that you never should have made. ── .✦ pairing: fiance!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ greatest what if

someday when you leave me, i bet these memories follow you around. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ heart

i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed. should've known i'd be the first to leave think about the place where you first met me. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x crush!reader

╰┈➤ too late

words— how little they mean when you're a little too late. ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!steve, husband!bucky x avenger!reader

╰┈➤ i miss you

now, i fear i have fallen from grace and i feel like my castle's crumbling down. ── .✦ pairing: actress!scarlett x actress!reader

╰┈➤ wedding

sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing, sometimes walking out is the one thing, that will find you the right thing. the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul, you know when it's time to go. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x event planner!reader

╰┈➤ last memory

if i didn't know better, i'd think you were talking to me now. if i didn't know better, i'd think you were still around. what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, so alive, in my head. ── .✦ pairing: agent!elizabeth x agent!reader

╰┈➤ thank you

why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x fem!reader

╰┈➤ we both had our chance

i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!reader

╰┈➤ i hate you

remembering her comes in flashbacks and echoes, tell myself it's time now gotta let go. but moving on from her is impossible, when i still see it all in my head, in burning red. ── .✦ pairing: shitty!scarlett x annoying!reader

╰┈➤ on bended knee

can we go back to the days our love was strong? can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong? can somebody tell me how to get things back the way they use to be? oh god give me a reason, i'm down on bended knee. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x actress!reader

╰┈➤ the cut that always bleeds

oh, i could be anything you need, as long as you don't leave. the cut that always bleeds. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett x gf!reader

╰┈➤ backburner

i'll always be in your corner, 'cause i don't feel alive 'til i'm burnin' on your backburner. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x agent!reader

╰┈➤ the great war

we can plant a memory garden, say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair. there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair and we will never go back. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x gf!reader

╰┈➤ enough for you

and maybe i'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before but god, you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more. 'cause all i ever wanted was to be enough for you and all i ever wanted was to be enough for you. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x insecure!reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ to be written:

╰┈➤ 1 step forward, 3 steps back

do you love me, want me, hate me? boy, i don't understand. no, i don't understand.

╰┈➤ better woman

i know the bravest thing i ever did was run.

╰┈➤ strange

isn't it strange how people can change. from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?

╰┈➤ lose you to love me

we'd always go into it blindly, i needed to lose you to find me. this dancing was killing me softly, i needed to hate you to love me.

╰┈➤ almost is never enough

almost is never enough, so close to being in love. if i would have known that you wanted me, the way i wanted you then maybe we wouldn't be two worlds apart, but right here in each other's arms.

╰┈➤ wish you were sober

kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet, but i wish you were sober.

╰┈➤ same ground

because i have learned that love is beyond what human can imagine, the more it clears, the more i have to let you go.

╰┈➤ the way i loved you

but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it's 2 a.m. and i'm cursing your name. so in love that you act insane and that's the way i loved you.

╰┈➤ champagne problems

your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my champagne problems.

╰┈➤ last kiss

you told me you loved me, so why did you go away?

╰┈➤ maroon

the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was. the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon.

╰┈➤ loml

you said i'm the love of your life about a million times.

╰┈➤ consequences

loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses but loving you had consequences.

╰┈➤ casual

i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.

╰┈➤ illicit affairs

they show their truth one single time but they lie, and they lie, and they lie a million little times.

╰┈➤ forever and always

oh back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything? back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything?

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thefreelanceangel · 2 months ago

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A Little Etiquette Tip!

In the writing community, people who are looking for constructive criticism will ask for it. They'll usually include a tag, mention the request in the post, or directly ask other writers to review a piece and provide thoughts.

If someone posts a piece of written work, whether in response to a "tag" or just because they're posting their work online, it's inappropriate to message them offering any form of criticism. Yes, even constructive!

You don't know where in the writing process someone might be when they post an excerpt, a chapter, or a one-shot piece. This may be something they're using for practice, a quick bit dashed off to keep the creative juices flowing, or something they've labored over and are extremely proud of.

Providing praise for what you liked and enjoyed about the piece? That is always welcome. (It's like kudos on fanfic; you should always tell a creator that you like their work!) Just like you'd reblog someone's visual art or admire it, you do the same with written work.

And just as sending someone a message saying "your lighting isn't great on X piece" or "I can see clipping in Y screenshot" is considered inappropriate, so is sending someone criticism if they have not issued a request.

I am aware that publishing anything on the internet is basically opening the door to commentary, welcome and unwelcome alike. I am also aware that almost everyone is looking for community, for connection with others. And so it's helpful to know that criticism--either positive (or what you may perceive as positive) or negative--is not acceptable when not asked for.

Be polite when someone gives you unasked for criticisms (unless they're a hater, in which case, feel free to send them all the expletives you prefer) but discard them. Anyone approaching you with critiques you did not ask for is basically telling you "well I would do it this way" and that will not help you.

Constructive criticism and editing should help you tell your story the way you want it. The purpose of asking for feedback is to get help in shaping the story you want to tell, in order to get across the dreams, ideas, thoughts, and concepts you want to express.

Any criticisms, whether framed as positive or not, that you did not explicitly ask for are not going to help you make YOUR story happen.

#On Writing #OOC #On RP #Writers on Tumblr

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yurunivo · 10 months ago

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Sypnosis: In which, you are a writer and your husband is a serial killer (but you don't know that)

TW: english is not my first language, very basic plot

Characters: Yandere Ayato x reader

Huh.

Just then, the door to your office opened as a maid came inside, telling you that Ayato had come back from his commission. Nodding your head, you took your papers in your hands, preparing to go to his room. Your maid offered to carry them, but you took it yourself, insisting that you don't need help. Walking to his room in the large estate, you ran into his sister, giving polite greetings before walking away.

It was raining.

You looked out the window of the Kamisato estate, the raindrops covering the window with the glum atmosphere outside. Taking inspiration from the cloudy, moody aesthetic, you thought of a new thing to write, your writers block finally coming to an end. Taking the pen and paper in hand, you write deliberate strokes, taking time to make sure your characters don't act out of place.

Opening the door, you placed your notes on a table. Hearing his lively sister say greetings signalled you well enough that he was nearby. You walked over to his bed and sat on it, the plush of it sinking from your weight. Ayato opened the door, his nonchalant expression turning into a smile as he greeted you.

"Welcome home, Ayato," you said, his frame appearing closer as he lovingly kissed your forehead. You smiled at the action, your hand stroking his hair as you pulled him in for a real kiss. He cupped your face and held your back, pulling you slightly deeper before pulling away with sighs and giggles. Your marriage was arranged and you two have been together for years but that never stopped him from being loving and oh so gentle. You kissed his mole and laughed softly at his shiver.

He sat on the bed as he asked you about your day, to which you just gave a few remarks here and there. It was calm conversation with him, something that you enjoyed a lot. He stared at you so lovingly, causing you to be bashful of your words.

"How has your book been darling? I enjoyed your other ones but you seem to be taking longer than what you usually do," he asked, his face showing slight concern.

"Ah, it's just writers block, and i wanted to try a new style but it's so different from my older ones that I am having a hard time writing," you rambled on and on as he held on your every word.

"Could you perhaps review it for me? I need constructive criticism," you asked, eyes glinting with hope as you looked at your husband. He smiled as he pushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"Mm, maybe tomorrow? I just want to be with you without any mindless work," he hummed, holding your waist and making you lie down on the huge bed. You sighed contently as he rubbed circles on your back.

He chuckled as he heard your soft snores a couple minutes later. He got up from the bed and placed you at a more comfortable position, placing a blanket on top of you and a pillow beside you so you won't wake up.

He looked at the stacks of paper on the table next to the door, figuring to take a look. He walked over and read your draft, eerily smiling to himself as he sighed dreamily at the paper. He felt so happy holding something that you had touched, it made him feel shivers down his spine!

He couldn't help but memorize your entire script, holding it so delicately and praising your work. His eyes wandered over a murder scene, seeing the scribble marks with unsure sentences. He hummed as he left the paper be, taking a 'stroll' outside.

"Pl-please, I'll do anything! P-please sto-" Oops! He killed him, the crimson blood everywhere on the concrete ground. Feeling proud of himself, he walked away from the grim sight, making sure to not get any blood on his clothes. It felt great killing again, especially for his darling little wife! The killing tactic that you wrote in your book worked, he was so glad!

He walked away from the alley, soundlessly walking back to the estate. It was around one, so everyone was likely asleep. He quietly went back into your chambers through a short cut so as to not wake you up.

Changing to his robe, he pushed the pillow out of the way, grinning to himself as he snuggled into bed with you, until eventually, he fell asleep.

The following morning, you woke up, feeling strong arms on your waist. You tried to move around, only to be met with a groan. You gasped as you got pulled into Ayato's embrace, a blush creeping up on your face.

"Ayato, you have work today, can you get up?" You whispered quiet enough to not disturb him too much.

"Mmh, I took the day off, so no," he mumbled. You had a stupefied look on your face as he responded.

'Am I imagining things?' You considered. 'I'm probably imagining things, I just woke up after all,' you sighed.

You sighed. You smelt a bit of blood. Confused, you thought to yourself, 'Am I on my cycle?' You looked down your blanket, only to see nothing.

A few minutes of not being able to move from his grasp later, he finally let you go to let the both of you start your day. It was a really mundane morning, but it was a lot better than waking up with a cold bedroom.

After breakfast, you and Ayato spent some quality time together. You talked about your book, handing him your script for him to read. He pretended to read it for the first time, giving advice and just being happy to help his wife ♡

First time writing a yandere fic! How did I do? >⋁<

#reader insert #genshin ayato #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere #yandere ayato #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato

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babble28 · 1 month ago

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Illicit Affairs (Spencer x Curvy! Hotch reader) pt.2

An: wow! thank you, guys, for the love on part one :) like I said in the first part, this is the first pic I have ever written so any constructive criticism is welcome, as long as it's kind lol. If there is anything that doesn't make sense or could possibly offend someone pls let me know, that would never be my intention <3

p.s. reader wears a dress in this part, and I got inspiration for the look of this dress in the link below, the person wearing it does not reflect skin color, height, age, weight, or any looks of reader

dress link:

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/104708760082106254/

Summary: after you father decides that his coworker, who you just so happen to have a crush on, should help tutor you for math class, you decide you need to get over him. however he seems to be making it difficult to do so.

warnings: the reader is insecure and talks bad about themselves, friendship issues, name-calling, slight age gap, some harsh language, reader wears a dress, bullying. (lmk if I missed any)

words: 2,646

"𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 "𝔨𝔦𝔡" 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 "𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶" 𝔏𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔡𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢"

Thursday was your first tutoring session with Spencer. It was planned perfectly for when he got off work, and you were done with your classes for the day. You had wiped the sweat off your hands onto your jeans for the hundredth time this afternoon, waiting for him.

Three deliberate knocks on your door told you he was there, you ran to welcome him into your home. Taking a deep breath and fixing your hair you open the door.

“Hey Dr. Reid, come on in!” you chirped.

“Thanks, y/n,” he waves, giving you a tight-lipped smile. And you can just call me Spencer; we’re not at the BAU,” he chuckles.

“Oh, right, sorry… Well, my desk is in my room, that's where I usually do my homework, but we can do it in the kitchen if that's more comfortable for you. We could also go into my-”

“Your room is fine” he cuts you off, holding his hands up in surrender to your ramblings.

“Studies show that studying in a familiar and comfortable place with minimal distractions is ideal for learning and staying focused,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess that does make sense,” you laugh quietly.

You begin to sweat more at the thought of Spencer Reid entering your bedroom. Opening your door, thankful you cleaned it before he arrived, you pulled up a chair for him to sit on so you could take the one placed at your desk.

“Alright,” he sighed, sitting down “What are we working on today?”

“Just have to go over the reviews from my two tests that I flunked so I can re-take them” you exhale.

“Okay, how about I explain the steps to do the first problem, then you can try on your own while I watch?” he suggests.

“That sounds great, thanks Spencer,” you smile at him.

After showing you how to do the problem, explaining it slowly, and kindly answering any questions you had, you tried the second problem yourself. However, that turned out to be difficult. Spencer looking over your shoulder was not only intimidating but also embarrassing. You could smell his cologne from this close and it caused your cheeks to flush and you became increasingly distracted.

“nuh uh,” Spencer practically whispered into your ear. “Check the order of operations before doing that portion” he corrected, leaning over your arm to point at the part you did wrong.

“Oh, that- right, sorry” you hum.

“It’s alright… young padawan” he chuckles, remembering your mutual love for the Star Wars movies.

You chuckle and continue the problem, but the term of endearment has you internally wincing at the fact that he sees you as a kid, rather than an equal despite the small age gap between you two. Further cementing the belief that he would never see you in the way that you saw him. Even though you had assumed as much, it didn't hurt any less hearing it from the horse's mouth.

The rest of the study session went fairly smoothly, even though you were dejected at the inadvertent rejection of your feelings from Spencer. And, if you were honest with yourself, you were starting to understand the subject a little more.

After Spencer left for the night, you went silently back up to your room and flopped on your bed. The tears started flowing uncontrollably at the thought of being alone in this world.

Of course, he doesn't like me, what was I even thinking? He is stunning, he could get any girl he wants, why the fuck would he choose me?

You thought to yourself as the sobs racked through your body.

You thought you were safe, allowing yourself to have a crush on your father's coworker, he was just out of reach enough that you didn’t have to worry about your heart being broken.

You don't usually allow yourself to develop crushes on those around you for that exact reason.

Sunday finally rolls around and it’s time for dinner at the Rossi residence. Your godfather was a successful writer and had never been shy about sharing his wealth with his loved ones, including you and the BAU. That being said, your father always expected you to dress up for his dinners to show respect for inviting you to his lovely house.

Picking out a dress to wear to these events was always a struggle, the dresses you thought were cute didn’t suit your body type, and the ones that did, you thought were ugly.

Remembering the dress you bought a few weeks ago for a school event, you pull it out and try it on.

It was a beautiful, yet simple, black dress with white trim that fell just above your knees and was loose on your lower tummy so you didn't feel so self-conscious. It had a square neckline, complementing your chest in just the right way. You smiled to yourself, twirling in your floor-length mirror.

You and your dad had arrived at the party late, due to taking a wrong turn and having to reroute yourselves. Rossi opened the door and welcomed you in with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Dinner just came out of the oven!” he cheered as you made your way to the dining area.

The team greeted you with their usual warmth and began to compliment you on your new dress.

“Dang girl!” Morgan whistled “Didn't know we were in the presence of a fashion icon” while taking your hand above your head to spin you around. As you giggle, thanking him.

“Oh. My. God. girl you are gonna have to tell me where you got that dress!” Garcia fawns

“You look gorgeous, as always y/n/n” Emily smiles.

As the ruckus dies down, you scan the room looking for that familiar mop of brown curls. Then, before you know it, your eyes are looking at Spencer as he gapes at you. You realize he was already staring at you and quickly glance away.

Everyone sits down at the table, getting ready to eat as you help David set up the dinner. After the table is ready and the food is out you realize that the only seat open is next to Spencer. Hesitantly, you approach the seat and ask if it’s open. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” Spencer studders, seemingly lost in thought. Which, for the doctor, was not a rare occurrence.

“Thanks” you whisper, taking your seat and dishing up your food.

Once everyone has settled into casual conversation Spencer leans over and, looking straight ahead whispers, “You look lovely tonight y/n”

You could swear your heart stopped for half a second, why did he feel the need to say that now?

“Th-thank you Spencer” you reply quietly, as to not draw attention to the nerves in your tone.

Now, a mess of emotions, you excuse yourself to the restroom. “It doesn’t mean anything, he was just being polite, like everyone else” you whisper to yourself in the mirror. What the fuck is wrong with me? You think to yourself as you splash cold water on your face to calm down your nerves, and hopefully get rid of the heat that has risen to your cheeks.

The rest of the dinner continues with you trying to ignore Spencer as much as possible so you don’t embarrass yourself. You join in on Derek's conversation about his new girlfriend, and Penelope's debate on which brand of hair dye is best for blonde hair, trying to convince JJ to get hers done. And despite the lively conversation, your mind still wanders to the gorgeous genius sitting next to you.

Dinner finally wraps up and you and your dad head home. “How was your first day with Reid?” he questions. “It was good, I feel like he explains it in a way that finally makes sense, and he is very helpful,” you say calmly, remembering the aftermath of your first study session.

You had decided that it was time to get over Spencer Reid. Determined to get a social life, you walked into your physics class Monday morning and built up the courage to ask your two friends in that class to have a study session at your place that afternoon. “Hey Chloe and Sebastian, would you guys wanna study at my place after school for this new test?” you asked them. “My dad's out of town so we’d have the whole place to ourselves, and… I have snacks!”

“I’m down, this class has been kicking my ass lately” Sebastian huffed.

“Yes! My brother is so loud on his video games that it's hard for me to study at home, let's do it!” Chloe chimed in

Feeling excited at the prospect of new friends, you exchanged numbers with a smile and sent them your address.

Once you were done with your classes for the day, you called your dad, who was on a case in Nevada, to let him know your plans and the information about the people you were inviting over. Despite the fact that you trusted your new friends, you still respected, and understood, your dads concern for you being home alone with strangers.

After you, Chloe, and Sebastian had finished reviewing the study guide for your upcoming test, with a snack break halfway through, you had sent them on their way with the promise of hanging out again.

After almost two weeks of the BAU being gone, you welcomed your father home with a hug and his favorite takeout. Things were finally starting to feel normal again. You had friends and, with help from Spencer, your math grade was finally where you needed it to be.

That was until Wednesday, during your criminal psychology class when your teacher dropped a bomb on the class.

“Now students, as you know we are very lucky to live in the same state as some of the top criminology experts in the country, so with some help from an old friend of mine, I would like to introduce our guest lecture for today… Dr. Spencer Reid. With an IQ of 187, he is surely someone you could learn from. Class welcome Dr. Reid”

Time froze. Your breath caught in your throat. What the hell is he doing here? You thought to yourself.

Spencer walked up to the front of the lecture hall and scanned the crowd while thanking your professor. “Hello everyone, I’m Dr. Ried and I work at the F.B.I. in the division called the BAU, does anyone know what we do over there?”

The class was whispering amongst themselves, trying to figure out the answer to his question. As Spencer stood up on the platform he grew increasingly shy. Feeling bad for the poor guy you decided to raise your hand and help your classmates out.

His eyes scanned the crowd and landed on yours “U-uh yes, you” he stumbled, recognizing that it was you. “You analyze the behavior and patterns of criminals to create a profile of them to help catch them,” you say bluntly. He gives you a warm smile “Yes, exactly, very- very good” He replies.

“Girl, I hate to say this but, that man is a smoke show!” one of your classmates whispers to her friends, who agree with a giggle. Suddenly a wave of guilt hits you, realizing that must be what your thoughts would sound like to him if he ever heard them.

Running out of the classroom you head for the bathroom to calm yourself. Looking in the mirror you question how anyone could stand to look at you, let alone why anyone would be attracted to you. After a while of pacing in the bathroom, you decide you should grab your things, as class would be over in just a few minutes.

Grabbing your backpack from class you decide to leave early and go home. Once you leave the building the tears start welling up again.

Just then Sebastian and a few of his friends walk by. He notices the tears in your eyes and runs over to see what's wrong.

“Hey, Seb!” one of his friends shouts at him, “What are you doing? Didn’t know you were into ugly fat chicks” he laughs and the others join in. Before Sebastian has the chance to reply, you turn away to leave. But before getting too far you bump into someone. “Sorry,’ you look up and see those all too familiar hazel eyes, laced with concern.

You realize he heard what the boys said to you, and frantically began wiping the tears from your cheeks. “y/n, don't listen to those boys, okay? They are immature and stupid.” he consoles you as the boys walk away.

Emotions heightened, and frankly embarrassed that Spencer saw you crying over their words you yell, “Why are you here Spencer? Plus why should I believe you? You're just my dad’s coworker!” you turn away when Spencer grabs your arm. “y/n what are you talking about?” he whispers, “you are beautiful, and who cares if I’m your dad's colleague, that doesn’t make my opinion of you any less valid.” he says in a calmer tone.

“Ugh, you wouldn’t get it Spencer” you sigh, “your smart, your attractive, and you're successful, meanwhile I’m getting called names by boys I don’t even know the names of”

“W-what do you mean” Spencer questions.

“Ugh, do you know how many girls in that class alone were talking about your looks?” you roll your eyes at him, “You know what? Forget it. I'll see you later.” you turn around and rush to your car.

The following day your tutoring session with Spencer was tense. Everything he said to you was met with a simple reply or a nod.

“y/n, can we please talk about what happened yesterday?” Spencer pleaded as you finished the problem you were on.

“What is there to talk about Spencer?” you reply curtly, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, and I’m sorry I left your lecture early.”

“That's not what this is about y/n, and you don’t need to apologize, I just want to make sure you are alright.” he looks at you, worry in his eyes.

“Why do you care Spencer? Seriously, it was just some stupid guys saying shit I've heard a million times before, it’s none of your business,” you say looking away from him.

“I- I care because I care about you y/n” he takes a deep breath then, “Because you are so kind, one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, despite what you say you are smart, you are beautiful on the inside and out, and I- well, I… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I love you y/n y/l/n, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s alright, as long as you know that there is someone out there who feels this way for you, I’ll be okay.” he lets out a sigh, closing his eyes.

“You- you love me?” you question.

Spencer stays silent, nodding his head yes.

“I- I love you too Spencer Ried, I have for a while now.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Spencer’s eyes shoot up to meet yours. You both stare at each other for what feels like hours. His eyes travel down to your lips and your breath hitches. His hand raises slowly, giving you time to push him away. His hand cupped your cheek with such care that you may not have even felt it if you weren't hyper-aware of everything he did. He slowly closes the gap between you and kisses you. It feels electric like everything has fallen into place at this very moment. For a few seconds, your lips are connected to his, all the stars have aligned and suddenly life makes sense.

lmk if ya'll wanna pt 3 thanks for reading

tag list: @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@theprettyandthereckless

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x curvy! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #derek morgan #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

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claysafreakingcommie · 7 days ago

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Hello, I have a question as a fellow radfem!^^

I’ve been struggling to find the right people to talk to about this, since most of the radfem spaces I’m in are strictly trans exclusionary and I worry that asking questions like this might get me pushed out. I haven’t really shared my views on trans people yet, which is probably why I’m still welcome in those spaces.

As a gender abolitionist (which I am), it makes sense to oppose the concept of transgenderism, since the term itself is rooted in gender. And if we believe gender is a social hierarchy that needs to be abolished, then yes, I get why many radfems are critical of transgender ideology.

But what about transsexuals? That’s where I feel conflicted.

While I fully understand that biological sex is immutable, chromosomes can’t be changed. But I still believe transsexuality is valid in its own right. Not as a mental illness, but as a legitimate and personal experience that some people go through.

I’ve used the label trans-exclusionary radical feminist before because I do believe biological women should have their own spaces and I don’t think trans women should compete in women’s sports. But at the same time, I feel uncomfortable with how quick TERFs are to dismiss TIRFs or even people like me who just want to ask questions. They’re often called libfems or even misogynists, which feels overly hostile.

So my question is, why do trans exclusionary radical feminists think the way they do? And why is there such a strong rejection of nuance, especially when it comes to transsexuals?

This is actually such an interesting question and discussion to have. I think there is a problem within the radfem community which leads to the immediate rejection of opposing opinion on the topic of transgenderism (which is a valid defense response, but frustrating nonetheless). This is—like you said—a rejection of nuance, as I find this matter quite complicated.

I am a generally open minded person, and I find that it is incredibly important to review any and all perspectives on a matter before coming to a conclusion.

It is something I empathize with heavily; I think that most women turn to TERFism not out of fear of trans people, but out of a fear of men. So therefore, I have heard out countless arguments and reasonings from the perspectives of TERFs, and they are entirely logical. I believe, though, empathy is often just as necessary.

I believe that rather than criticizing transgender individuals themselves, we need to investigate the underlying systems that make it so prevalent. Of course, I am a gender abolitionist, and therefore reject the idea of gender as a concept—but its status as a construct does not deny its prevalence in society. Of course our perceptions of gender are based of preconceived ideas, notions, and stereotypes—but, who are the perpetuators of such notions? It is society itself, the patriarchy, and the everyday people who choose to adhere, so there is this; transgender people are not the enforcers of this harmful system (how could they be, given the rarity of this condition?)—they are simply participants, even victims of it, just as we are (albeit, in different forms—trans women who pass can be affected by misogyny—but it is not the same.)

Now, of course the experience of a female is much different than that of a trans woman, that much should go without saying. I notice that, in queer spaces especially, there is a push to blur the lines of and intrude upon womens’ spaces, along with the terms and labels they might use—it’s very complicated. But again, this push is societal; it is not necessarily due entirely to trans women or trans people.

I think the reason why womens’ spaces are so often intruded upon is just that misogyny is a seemingly universal language, and we have been so frequently silenced and denied things like community. So this is just another surge of it, another manifestation, where identity politics meet liberal inclusionism and idealism.

Also, I am someone who recognizes deeply the effects of intersectionality and the way it interacts with oppression. The nuance of intersectionality is important and necessary in any feminist analysis, so, like I said, the effects of misogyny may absolutely impact the trans community (trans women for passing as such, and trans men for their anatomies), however, again, it is frustrating to see biological women denied access to exclusive spaces and communities and shunned for desiring such.

Femaleness is the basis of misogyny. So yes, the misogyny we experience is unique and particularly oppressive. Yes, it comprises of the ways we are oppressed for presenting as such, but it also subjugates us based on our anatomies and our socialization. It is so strange for me to see people online compare this to the experience of trans women and conflate them as one and the same—they aren’t.

I will say this: I am not transgender, and therefore am not familiar with any such experience. What I hate most is the demonization and erasure of certain experiences that are only due to a lack of understanding. I don’t entirely understand this experience, but I can still empathize with it. Many are kind and misunderstood, but they are absolutely all human. We don’t live, yet, in a world where gender is an afterthought, or where we must not struggle to compartmentalize ourselves into ideas of what we should be. but because that world does not exist yet, there remains a population of people who long for an identity that they cannot have. I, too, know this feeling in other contexts.

Cisgender people embrace gender every day; and yes, as do trans people. This is a manifestation of the negative effects of gender on society. I wish for a world where people don’t need sex changes to feel security, but we create a society in which conforming to these expectations is commonplace.

So while I am firm in my stance that trans people deserve respect, I also loathe the demonization of women who hold reservations toward them due to safety. As I have stated, a fear of men is rational and something that has been instilled into women for generations, and it enrages me to see women shamed for displaying this. In our society, maleness leads to violence. I am generally withdrawn from the idea of bio-essentialism and believe this is due to a socialization as men—which is held by many trans women. Do not let people tell you when it is socially acceptable to protect and separate yourself. I also believe strongly that females are entitled to our own spaces, and the distinction between biological women and trans women needs to be recognized when discussing feminism because again, when these lines are blurred and conflated, misogyny is present.

So, a summary, because my thoughts are all over the place: don’t be the people who hate what they don’t understand—respect is owed to everyone, (gasp) even trans people. Misogyny impacts bio women first and primarily… by definition. We are the focus of it. The erasure of female spaces and labels is a form of misogyny. Gender affirming care shouldn’t be life saving care, but it is, for now. And that’s okay—we want to keep people alive. This is why I say I am neither TERF nor TIRF, my thoughts are nuanced, scattered, and I still have more thinking to do.

The bottom line is: transgenderism exists because we allow a society of binary. Stop demonizing the people who fall under the category, and instead the institutions that uphold it. However it is important to separate the fundamental ideas of female experience and transgender experience; they may interact, but they don’t overlap. Feminism is, at its core, female.

Okay, final thought before I wrap this up, because I feel like I’m rephrasing the same information. My fatal flaw is my empathy, but I think it’s more of a gift than an issue. I have empathy for practically everyone, and I acknowledge trans people. I respect them and their experiences which make visible the way that the patriarchy hurts everyone—but my feminism will always be female.

If you agree or disagree, tell me your thoughts. I love discussing new perspectives, especially regarding feminism. Plus, it’s so much more classy to respond with your opinion in a nuanced way, as opposed to leaving mean names in my inbox. That’s lame.

—Also, on the topic of autogynephilia—obviously disgusting. But if you spend time in the most perverted corners of the internet, you’ll see the most perverted and depraved people, too. Still, assuming that all trans women are autogynephiles is not a valid generalization to make. Gullible is written on the ceiling. Still though, fuck kink!

#intersectional feminism #radical feminists please touch #radical misandrist #gc feminism #gender critical feminism #pro misandry #radblr #radical feminism #proud misandrist #radical feminists please interact #tirfblr #tirf #radical feminst #radical feminists do touch #terfblr #radical feminist community #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact

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bigmegachad · 3 months ago

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‼️⁉️⚠️DOGMAN MOVIE REVIEW‼️⁉️SPOILERS AHEAD‼️⁉️⁉️

Ok, I’ll break down my review into sections. First;

Animation

The movie looked great! It was true to the book’s art style and was very fluid (in that choppy animation sort of way).

It really shines in the fight scenes! Giving every thing a sorta anime look.

Story

It was faithful in the original books! Taking aspects from “DogMan” and “DogMan: A Tail of Two Kitties”. The humor was nice and subtle and the heart felt scenes really hit!

I find it interesting that they changed the chief from having a crush on the nurse, to having a crush on Sarah. I guess it makes more sense for him to fall in love with a main character instead of a side character.

The fact Officer Knight had not only Greg, BUT ALSO a girlfriend struck me! It makes what happen EVEN MORE sad, the idea that DogMan not only lost one, but two owners really made you feel the gravity of the situation.

I like how they expanded more on certain aspects! Like why the Chief was so hard on DogMan, how DogMan got his house, the Mayor’s brother running Cat Jail, etc. I like that attention to detail, it shows the care that was put into this story!

The fast pacing was welcomed too! It felt right since DogMan is already pretty fast paced in itself.

I enjoyed the relationships between the characters! Chief and DogMan work really well in both humorous but also deeper setting, same goes to DogMan and Petey. I like the banter that Petey and Lil Petey have, and their parental relationship is even better! Although, I think Sarah and Chief could have some more romantic scenes.

Grandpa was there. He was.

Casting

The casting was pretty solid! Pete Davidson did great as Petey, which honestly I was little surprised by (forgive me, I only know him from SNL). I was shocked that Ricky Gervais played Flippy, I always imagined Flippy having a deep voice to contrast his fishy body. All in all, everyone was great!

Music??!

Ok, I did NOT expect the sound track to go so hard. There were songs I was legit vibing to, especially the song during DogMan and Lil Petey’s montage. And the ending song is a bop!

Overall

DogMan was great! I highly recommend!

P.S: Sorry if this review isn’t the best, this is my first ever review so it probably has some issues. Constructive criticism would be appreciated!

#dogman movie #dogman movie review #dogman #petey the cat #lil petey #dogman chief #dogman sarah

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faiyx · 4 days ago

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IF YOU ARE SOMEONE THAT HAS COMMISSIONED ME IN THE PAST, THIS POST IS FOR YOU!!!

I am currently making some changes and updates to my website and I decided I want to include some reviews from my past commissioners, so new people can get an overview over how I work and I can also get an insight into things I could potentially improve on! So, if you have commissioned me in the past, here is a link to a form you can fill out with anything you have to say about things like communication, my overall approach and of course the final artwork I made for you! Any positive reviews but also constructive criticism is super welcome and you will stay ANONYMOUS when I add the reviews to my website! Thank you so much for your time guys! HERE IS THE LINK TO THE FORM:

#delete later #idk

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feetpiclovers · 10 months ago

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youtube

Welcome savvy feet sellers and photo phenoms! In this video, we dive deep into the crucial art of responding to feedback and reviews on FeetFinder. Whether it's a glowing review or constructive criticism, we guide you on transforming every piece of feedback into a golden opportunity for growth. Discover strategic tips for engaging with your buyers, enhancing your content, and ultimately boosting your sales. Get ready to embrace feedback, refine your offerings, and rise to the top as a successful FeetFinder seller.

Learning points 👍 ✔️ Understanding the value of feedback ✔️ Responding to positive reviews to boost engagement ✔️ Handling constructive criticism gracefully ✔️ Implementing changes based on feedback ✔️ Proactive approaches to improving content and customer service

🔥 Watch now, hit subscribe, and stay tuned for more expert advice on thriving in the digital marketplace!

#Youtube

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archives-of-iacon · 19 days ago

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[IN PROGRESS: Archival Entry #0148-A]

“The Enigma of the Matrix: A Historical and Functional Analysis”

You are viewing a partial draft. Contributors, scribes, and lorekeepers are invited to share corrections, commentary, or corroborating sources via the message board. Final version to be archived within the main database pending review. Small portions of additional subsections will continue to be made available through this channel until full publication. Full document will be available through the Archives' external Fandom data-net upon completion.

I. Origins and Mythological Context

Section I.A – The Primordial Flame and the First Wielder → Please note: This is a DRAFT excerpt under open review. Annotations and contributions welcome.

“We are all but fragments of the Matrix, which releases each of us in order to struggle, and grow, and evolve—so when we return to it, it may grow and evolve. Thus do we serve the Matrix, not just by battling, but also by acquiring knowledge, wisdom, and experiencing love.” — Attribution disputed (see full commentary below)

This section seeks to unravel the dual nature of the Matrix of Leadership, examining its origins and evolution through both mythic and early historical accounts. Drawing upon the Chronicles of the Thirteen, surviving oral traditions, and Alpha Trion’s increasingly symbolic interpretations of accepted dogma, we find that a comprehensive definition of the Matrix must acknowledge its role as both relic and revelation—an artifact forged in a cosmic trauma and wielded as a tool of order in a fractured age.

According to the dominant mytho-cycle, the Matrix emerged in the wake of the Theomachy—the apocalyptic conflict between Primus himself and Unicron. As the myth goes, the Matrix was a byproduct of Primus’ fragmentation, an echo of his will, of creation manifest, cast into physical form. However, scholarly consensus on this origin remains unstable. Some theories posit that the artifact was constructed by the Thirteen themselves as a vessel to contain collective wisdom. [edit this – cite Targon’s 7814 lecture series]

While the “construct” hypothesis has largely fallen out of favor in academic circles, it nevertheless contributed greatly to initial inquiry into early Matrix function. For example, inscriptions once interpreted as exclusive rites of passage have, in pursuit of evidencing the construct theory, been re-translated as collaborative records, suggesting the Matrix may not have been a singularly held relic in its earliest uses [rephrase – unclear]. Where once Zeta Prime was assumed to be its inaugural bearer, recent Golden Age tablet reconstructions hint at shared stewardship among multiple Primes, perhaps in rotation or strategic deployment. [citation needed]

A key philosophical excerpt, widely taught in Ethics of Leadership modules across multiple colonies, has long shaped interpretations of the Matrix’s purpose:

“We are all but fragments of the Matrix…”

Note on attribution: This quote is commonly ascribed to Optimus Primal, who uttered it during the First Maximal Convocation on New Cybertron following the events of the Reformatting. However, a long-standing debate contends that Primal was drawing from older oral traditions, with some tracing similar phrasing to lost sermons of Nexus Prime or even fragmentary verses from the Aurex Codex. Critics of this re-attribution argue that denying Primal ownership of the phrase reflects a broader scholarly bias against Maximal sources, often dismissed in “core-world” academic institutions. The Archives remain neutral on the matter until consensus is reached, but include the quote here due to its last significance in the popular understanding of the Matrix.

— The Archives Administration Post-finalization cleared by Elixion, Acting Head Archivist, in compliance with the recently instituted "draft" protocols

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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A Slice Of Us || Modern!Peaky Blinders

Notes: Something for my lovely @raincoffeeandfandoms' 3k and her food theme. This blurb has also a tiny reference to @shelbydelrey’s vampire roommate idea. Also, it has been a while since I wanted to introduce Modern!Heaven so it was the perfect occasion. Congratulations again Flor 🖤

Words: 560.

Arthur knew her.

He did not know from where nor when, but the moment their eyes met, crystal iris drowning in his steel-blue ones, he had been convinced of it. When he opened the door at midnight and found himself face to face with the most otherworldly beautiful young woman he had ever seen Arthur’s words choked in his throat. Slightly embarrassed by how late it was, the angel handed him the renting advertisement she had printed and offered him a beaming smile that showcased four pearly white and sharp fangs. Such an odd complexion was soon to be forgotten for the gangster found himself enthralled by the way her plump and glossy lips reflected the corridor’s light as if her flesh had been engraved with diamond dust.

That was how he, a troubled veteran and an assassin, became roommates with her, an aerial performer who spent years in a mental hospital for unknown reasons. It didn’t take long for Arthur to fall in love. And to fall hard. Since she had entered his life, there were things that instantly soothed his urge to take drugs or his overwhelming violence. Like watching her stretch in the living room, her face rosy and pouting because of the pinching sensation in her hamstrings. When she let out small whimpers and long sighs, he would just obliterate everything else. Often she even asked him for help: “Arthur, can you please push my foot so that it touches my head?” "Can you keep my legs open for my splits?" Or “Can you seize my hips while I invert for my Aisha trick?” And he obeyed, craving some skin-to-skin contact with her. He had lost count of how many times they ended up laughing because she had slipped from the pole and they fell together on the living room’s wooden floor. For sure, she brought joy into his life. Peace into his mind. And soon, warmth into his bed. Her presence beside him was not only required, but it was also a necessary need for him to function properly.

Their life together was filled with little rituals and demonstrations of affection such as taking baths and showers together or establishing movie nights — even if, most of the time, they stopped paying attention to it at some point to sink into each other.

But her favorite one was when she exhausted herself at the pole studio late at night and he brought pizza from her favorite local restaurant. Arthur sat on the floor and watched his angel gracefully spinning on the pole, dressed in revealing exotic dancing gear and Pleaser platform boots. And when her training was over, she sat with him, snuggled in his loving arms, and shared the pizza together.

“Arthur. Do you want the last slice?” She asked, her French accent melting on her tongue. The way she pronounced his name made his legs weak — and it changed so much from the English way that he sometimes didn’t realize she called him.

“Ye can take it angel,” He grinned, his gravel voice cooing. Pressing a kiss on her temple, his mouth trailed down her porcelain skin until it reached her ear, “But I crave s’mthing sweet so I’ll take a slice of you for dessert, hm.”

She laughed and each time she did, he found gold in her voice and heaven in her eyes.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

#Peaky blinders #Arthur Shelby #Peaky Blinders imagine #Arthur Shelby x oc #Peaky Blinders fanfic #arthur shelby imagine #Paul Anderson #Peaky Blinders oc #Heaven Lavey Shelby

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mingiatz · 3 months ago

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Hana never expected to see Jongho again. Not after he ghosted her years ago, leaving behind only memories of their childhood friendship and an ache she never quite moved past. Now a successful bookstore owner and author, she’s content with her quiet life—until fate (and her friend Emilia) brings Jongho and his group, Ateez, back into her world.

Pairing: Jongho × Hana (OC)

Tropes: Childhood Friends to Lovers /Second Chances

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Light Drama

Featuring: Ateez (as Jongho’s supportive but teasing groupmates), Emilia (from the Idol Series Part I), Atiny, OCs

This Series will have multiple Chapters with around 2500 words. I hope you like it. Please be kind this is my first Fanfiction Project and English is not my first language. (I am open for constructive criticism). I will try to upload 3-4 chapters everyday.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Chapter Three

Hana’s POV

The next morning, Hana opened her bookstore as usual, but the atmosphere felt different.

She had always found comfort in her daily routine—unlocking the doors, setting up the displays, brewing tea while she organized the shelves. It was her sanctuary, a space she had built to keep the world at bay.

But today, her thoughts were restless.

No matter how hard she tried to focus on the tasks in front of her, her mind kept drifting back to the night before.

To him.

Jongho.

The way he had looked at her. The way his voice had softened when he said her name. The way her heart had clenched when she pretended not to recognize him.

Hana shook her head, exhaling sharply.

She didn’t have time for this.

The bell above the door chimed, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Emilia walked in, a bright smile on her face. „Morning, Hana!“

Hana returned the smile, grateful for the distraction. „You’re here early.“

Emilia grinned. „I figured I’d check in on you. And—“ she gestured toward the door as Mingi and Yeosang entered „—I brought company.“

Hana stiffened slightly but kept her expression neutral. „Welcome back.“

Mingi beamed. „Told you we’d be back.“

Yeosang nodded in agreement. „I needed another book. And Mingi wanted to talk about yours.“

Hana glanced at Mingi, surprised. „You finished it already?“

„Devoured it,“ Mingi admitted. „It was amazing.“

Hana felt a small sense of pride swell in her chest. „I’m glad you liked it.“

Just as the conversation was settling into something comfortable, the bell above the door rang again. Hana turned instinctively—and froze.

Jongho.

He hesitated in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room before landing on her.

Hana’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain calm. „Can I help you?“ she asked coolly.

Jongho’s jaw tightened. „I was just looking around.“

Mingi and Yeosang exchanged glances but said nothing.

Emilia, however, wasn’t one to let things go unnoticed. She folded her arms, glancing between them. „You two know each other, don’t you?“

Silence.

Hana could feel Jongho watching her, waiting.

But she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

With a polite smile, she turned back to Mingi. „So, what was your favorite part of the book?“

Jongho clenched his fists.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Jongho’s POV

Jongho wasn’t sure how long he had stood in the doorway before stepping inside, but it had been long enough for Mingi and Yeosang to pick up on the tension.

He didn’t know why he had come back. Maybe he had convinced himself that seeing Hana again would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling in his chest. That maybe, if she saw him one more time, she would crack—acknowledge their past, say something.

But all he got was cold detachment.

He watched as Hana skillfully dodged Emilia’s question, choosing instead to focus on Mingi’s enthusiastic review of her book.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” Mingi muttered under his breath as he walked past Jongho. “I don’t know what you did, but you’re in deep.”

Jongho exhaled sharply. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Yeosang, who had been flipping through books nearby, finally spoke up. “Are you going to talk to her?”

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. He wanted to. He had a million things to say. But the way Hana was carrying herself, the way she carefully avoided meeting his gaze, made it clear that she had no intention of giving him the chance.

Still, he wasn’t the type to back down easily.

As Hana wrapped up her conversation with Mingi, she turned back to the counter, busying herself with organizing a few books. Jongho took the opportunity and stepped forward.

“Your store is nice,” he said, his voice measured.

Hana didn’t look up. “Thank you.”

A pause.

Jongho took a breath. “How long have you been running it?”

Hana’s fingers tightened slightly on the book in her hands, but her voice remained neutral. “A few years now.”

Jongho nodded, searching for something, anything, that would break the wall she had put up. “You always loved books.”

Hana finally met his gaze, and for a brief moment, something flickered in her expression. Something unguarded.

Then it was gone.

She placed the book down and gave him a polite, distant smile. “It’s good to see you enjoying them too.”

It was a clear dismissal. A subtle way of saying, this conversation is over.

Jongho clenched his jaw but forced himself to nod. “Yeah. Guess I’ll see you around.”

Hana didn’t respond, turning back to her work.

And just like that, he felt like a stranger again.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••

Jongho arrived at the practice room earlier than usual, hoping the quiet would help him clear his head. The past few days had been a mess of emotions—ones he didn’t want to deal with. But ignoring them wasn’t working. No matter how much he tried to push away thoughts of Hana, her face kept appearing in his mind—her carefully neutral expression, the distance in her voice, the way she had looked at him as if he were nothing but another customer.

His stomach twisted. He knew he had no right to expect anything different. He had been the one to leave. He had been the one who didn’t say goodbye.

With a sharp exhale, he started warming up, stretching his legs and rolling out his shoulders. Maybe if he exhausted himself today, he’d finally get some sleep tonight.

The door opened behind him, and the rest of Ateez filtered in, chatting loudly. Wooyoung was the first to notice Jongho already there and smirked. „Look at that, our maknae’s being extra productive today.“

Jongho ignored him and continued stretching. He should’ve known this was coming. The second they realized he had been acting off, they were going to latch onto it like seagulls to food.

„He’s been in his thoughts lately,“ Yunho added, plopping onto the floor beside Jongho. „A little too much.“

Mingi chuckled as he placed his water bottle down. „I mean, he did run into an old friend recently.“

Jongho shot him a look. „Seriously?“

„Oh, so there is something to talk about?“ San teased, leaning against the mirror. „Spill.“

Hongjoong sighed but looked mildly amused. „Alright, let’s make it quick. If we start practice late because of whatever drama this is, I’ll make you all stay an extra hour.“

Seonghwa, always the more composed one, studied Jongho curiously. „It’s about Hana, isn’t it?“

Jongho froze mid-stretch, then scowled. „You guys have way too much time on your hands.“

Wooyoung cackled. „We’re your team. Your business is our business.“

Jongho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. „Fine. Yes. It’s about Hana.“

A chorus of knowing hums and whistles echoed through the room.

„You definitely still have feelings for her,“ Wooyoung said matter-of-factly.

Jongho rolled his eyes. „It’s not that simple.“

„It never is,“ Seonghwa said with a small shrug. „But that doesn’t mean you should ignore it.“

Jongho hesitated, jaw tightening. „She doesn’t want anything to do with me. I screwed up. And she made it clear she’s moved on.“

„Did she actually say that?“ Mingi asked, tilting his head. „Or did she just pretend not to know you?“

Jongho looked away. „Same thing.“

San shook his head. „No, it’s not. If she didn’t care at all, she would’ve acted normally. But she didn’t. That means something.“

Jongho frowned. „And what am I supposed to do? Just show up at her store and beg for forgiveness?“

Wooyoung smirked. „Now that would be entertaining.“

Hongjoong clapped his hands. „Alright, enough of this. Let’s start practice before this turns into an episode of a K-drama. Jongho, deal with your feelings later. Right now, we work.“

Grateful for the excuse to focus on something else, Jongho nodded. But as the music started and they fell into their routines, his mind remained tangled in the past.

Hana’s POV

The bookstore was quiet that afternoon, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside Hana’s head.

She sat behind the counter, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her tea cup. The encounter with Jongho at the store had left an ache in her chest she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. It had been years, but seeing him again brought back a whirlwind of memories she had thought she’d buried for good.

She had told herself she was over it. Over him. But when she saw him standing in her store, looking at her like she was someone he had lost, it had taken everything in her not to crack. Pretending not to recognize him had been the only way she could keep herself from breaking apart.

The bell above the door jingled, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up, expecting a customer, but instead, Emilia strolled in with a knowing expression.

„How long are you going to pretend this isn’t bothering you?“ she asked, leaning on the counter.

Hana sighed, rubbing her temples. „Not now, Emilia.“

„Yes, now,“ Emilia insisted. „I just had to listen to Jongho’s entire team talk about how miserable he’s been since seeing you again.“

Hana’s stomach twisted. „That’s not my problem.“

Emilia folded her arms. „You could at least hear him out.“

Hana let out a bitter laugh. „Oh, now he wants to talk? After all these years? After deciding I wasn’t worth a goodbye? No thanks.“

Emilia softened, sitting on one of the stools near the counter. „Hana… I know he hurt you. And I know it’s not something you can just forgive overnight. But don’t you want closure?“

Hana looked away. Closure. The word felt heavy, like something she had wanted for so long but was too afraid to grasp.

„I don’t know if I can face him,“ she admitted quietly. „What if it just makes everything worse?“

Emilia reached out, squeezing her hand. „Then at least you’ll know. And maybe that’s better than spending the rest of your life wondering.“

Hana exhaled slowly. Maybe Emilia was right. Maybe it was time to stop running from the past. But confronting Jongho meant reopening wounds she wasn’t sure had ever fully healed.

She stared at the rows of books around her, her sanctuary. This place had been built from her dreams, her hard work, her resilience. She had made a life for herself without him. Did she really want to risk letting him back in?

The doorbell jingled again, and for a split second, her heart stuttered.

But it wasn’t Jongho.

Just another customer.

Hana swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding to Emilia. „I’ll think about it.“

Emilia smiled. „That’s all I ask.“

As the afternoon went on, Hana tried to push aside the thoughts that refused to leave her alone. But deep down, she knew—this wasn’t something she could ignore forever. Whether she was ready or not, Jongho was back in her life.

And sooner or later, she’d have to decide if she wanted to let him stay.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈

The bookstore was quiet that afternoon. The steady hum of the city outside filtered through the windows, but inside, all Hana could hear was the soft rustle of pages turning as a few customers browsed the shelves. Normally, this was her favorite part of the day—a peaceful lull where she could focus on organizing the inventory, making notes for her next book, or simply enjoying the comforting presence of stories around her.

But not today.

Today, her thoughts were restless, circling the same place they had been ever since he had walked back into her life.

Jongho.

She had been doing fine. Better than fine, really. She had built something for herself, something that didn’t revolve around the past or broken promises. And yet, the moment he walked into her store, the foundation she had so carefully constructed had started to crack.

She knew Emilia was right—she couldn’t avoid this forever. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

The bell above the door chimed, signaling a new customer. Hana automatically turned to greet them, the words forming out of habit.

“Welcome—”

She stopped. Her breath hitched.

Jongho stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. The sight of him here, alone this time, sent a ripple of unease through her.

Hana’s fingers tightened around the book she had been holding. “Can I help you?”

Jongho hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, his movements careful, almost hesitant. “I… need to talk to you.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs. She forced her voice to remain steady. “I’m working.”

“I’ll wait.” His voice was firm, but there was a quiet urgency to it.

Hana exhaled sharply. She could feel the eyes of a few customers lingering, sensing the tension in the air. The last thing she wanted was an audience for whatever this was.

She glanced toward the small reading nook in the back. “We can talk there,” she said stiffly before leading the way.

Once they were seated across from each other, Jongho rested his elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced as he stared at the floor for a long moment.

Then, finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Hana’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected him to get to the point so quickly.

“For what?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear him say it.

Jongho lifted his gaze to meet hers. “For leaving. For disappearing without a word. For hurting you.”

Hana clenched her jaw. The sincerity in his voice chipped away at the walls she had built around her heart.

She looked away, focusing on the bookshelves instead of the man sitting in front of her. “You can’t just show up years later and say you’re sorry like that makes it okay.”

“I know,” he admitted, voice thick with regret. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. Or at all. But I needed to say it.

Silence stretched between them. The words she had wanted to say for years burned in her throat, but she didn’t know how to let them out.

Jongho sighed. “I was young. Stupid. I thought cutting you off would make it easier. I convinced myself that if I let go first, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Hana let out a humorless laugh. “Did it work?”

Jongho shook his head. “No.”

Hana swallowed, gripping the edge of the table. She wanted to stay angry. It was easier that way. But the sadness in Jongho’s eyes made it difficult to ignore the part of her that had missed him, the part that had spent years wondering what happened to the boy she once trusted more than anyone.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Jongho nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “I understand.”

Another pause. Hana’s fingers relaxed slightly, though her heart still felt heavy. “So why now?” she finally asked. “Why come back?”

Jongho exhaled. “Because I never stopped thinking about you. And when I heard your name again, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Hana’s chest tightened. She didn’t know what to say to that.

Before she could figure it out, a customer approached the counter, breaking the tension. She stood abruptly. “I have to get back to work.”

Jongho nodded slowly. “Okay.”

But as she turned to leave, he added, “I won’t stop trying, Hana.”

She paused for just a second before continuing toward the counter, refusing to let him see the way his words had shaken her.

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Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and scenarios in this story are entirely fictional and not intended to reflect the real lives of the members of Ateez or any other individuals. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes.

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booksforevermore13 · 11 months ago

Text

Make it up to me later (I love you)

...

Summary: 4 times Percy ditched Annabeth for missions and she didn't know why, and 1 time he didn't. Angst and fluff and a lot of percabeth. AU, where Percy is a special forces agent and Annabeth is a doctor. Rated T for mentions of death and mild swearing.

Author's Note: Credits go to @redlion8123 for letting me use their headcanon while writing this fic. The idea is theirs and I am so thankful to them for letting me use it. I let myself go wild with this one, and as this is my first 4+1 fic, I hope you all like it. :D As always, I will be immensely grateful for all those who take the time to read this. Reviews will be much appreciated, and I always welcome constructive criticism.

...

"He's coding," Annabeth stated plainly, her voice tight as years of training set into place, and she handed over her scalpel to the attending nurse, starting on chest compressions.

Thirty seconds in and she knew it was of no use.

"Charge to 150," she barked as the nurse brought over the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!"

She watched the monitor burst into activity and then die down again.

"Push one of epi!" she commanded. "Resume chest compressions."

Inside, a thin veil of panic was taking over her chest. This man couldn't die, she thought to herself. She'd known Henry for far too long, attended his wedding, been in the room when his daughter was born. She couldn't afford to lose him.

"Charge to 200," she said, peering intently at the chest monitor. A minute had already passed. With his condition, a minute was too long to last.

She waited with bated breath as the shock passed through his body, and then sighed in relief as she saw the heart monitor changing.

"ROSC," she stated, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll finish off the surgery, and then we'll move him to ICU for further monitoring."

Voices around her agreed in unison as she was yet again handed her ten-blade and forceps, as yet again, her fingers descended into the chest of a decade old friend.

Annabeth really needed a break.

…

She sighed as she walked through the halls of the hospital and reached her office, collapsing immediately on her sofa. Annabeth ran her hands through her hair, which over the years, had lost its shine and was falling apart in her hands.

She really needed to stop taking on back to back 36 hour shifts.

Annabeth groaned as her neck snapped painfully as she turned to lay on her side, her eyes settling on the wall hanging that her boyfriend had given to her on their anniversary. At just the right angle, the sunlight hit the ornament in such a way that the wall above became a mural of waves crashing against each other. It was mesmerising to watch, and on hard days, it had become her solace.

"Hey!" Annabeth turned, as Piper walked in, the familiar scent of lavenders wafting into her office. Annabeth smiled in welcome, as Piper settled in on her sofa. The latter peered in concern as she took in the resigned figure of her counterpart.

"How many hours has it been since you properly slept?"

"A couple of days at most." Annabeth grunted as she struggled to find a proper place to rest her neck in.

"Mother of Zeus, you've got to stop doing that!" Piper exclaimed, her light brown hair glinting in the sunlight, and appearing a gorgeous amber. Piper was stunning, and Annabeth had once questioned whether surgery was really the line for her instead of more fashion oriented professions. But then, Piper had put her in her place, and once she did, that was all.

"I know," Annabeth muttered, her eyes once again floating towards the waves on her ceiling. They were now a bright sea-green, and Annabeth smiled as she was reminded of the eyes of her beloved.

"You heading home?" she asked Piper, who nodded in response.

"Jason wants me back for something."

"Jason always wants you back for something."

"Yeah, well." Piper smiled fondly and Annabeth chuckled as she saw a dreamy expression settling in on her friend' s face. A year into their relationship, but Annabeth had never seen that expression on Piper for anybody else.

"You have that date too, don't you?" she fired back, and Annabeth blushed, as she looked away in embarrassment.

Piper cackled in response.

Truth be told, it was the only thing Annabeth had been looking forward to for weeks to come. Her boyfriend was an international aid worker, meaning he was more often than not, travelling to various places for his job. This meant they couldn't meet up as often as Annabeth would have liked, but it made no difference. In her thirty four years of life, he was the first person with whom Annabeth could truly let go of herself, and her job and all the tribulations it brought.

Now, three weeks later, they would finally be meeting again, and after hours and hours of surgery and stress, not that those never overlapped, those few hours she'd spend with him would make up for it.

"Few hours doing what, exactly?" Annabeth smiled, as Percy's voice resonated through her head, his crooked smile making home in her mind.

She wouldn't admit to herself, but she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.

"What's it been, a few weeks?" Piper asked, after she'd finally calmed down and gathered herself.

"Hmm," Annabeth said, "Speaking of, I should really be going now. He'll be here any minute."

Piper smiled again, that same coy expression on her face, and Annabeth whacked her as she got up from the sofa. "You're not going to change?" she yelled, as Annabeth headed towards the door.

"I won't need to," she quipped as the door closed behind her.

Annabeth laughed softly as she heard the thud of a pillow against the door.

…

Where are you?

She typed, sighing as she felt a few drops of rain on her head.

Percy was never this late. And he'd never not replied to her texts before.

She heard the ring of her phone and her hands fumbled as her fingers swiped at the screen to accept the call.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth!" She jerked away as his voice boomed across the receiver. Annabeth glared at a passerby as she hurriedly walked over to a corner on the street, ignoring the now constant slew of rain over her.

"Percy?"

"Annabeth," his voice came through again, a note of urgency in it. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry I don't think I can make it. My flight's been redirected to Chicago, and I don't think I'll be on time for the date."

Annabeth felt her heart sinking, as she mustered up the voice to answer back. "You're already late!" she yelled back, and smiled sadly as she heard Percy laugh through the phone.

"I'll make it up to you!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, I have to go now!"

"It's okay!" she said, but the call had already ended. Annabeth looked at the phone screen, willing his name back. She couldn't help it, but she felt small pinpricks of tears at the back of her eyes.

She'd been looking forward to seeing him again.

"Annabeth!" she heard someone yell her name. Annabeth looked up to see Piper in a small Bentley, Jason by her side, both of them peering at her, through the rain, "What's wrong?"

"Percy couldn't make it." she replied, as she walked over to them. "Drop me home?"

"You never have to ask." Piper said gently, as Jason smiled warmly back at her, tipping his cap in greeting.

Annabeth smiled, her throat clogged, as she got into the back of his car.

Even the rain didn't seem to appease her today.

...

"So, its like a ball, but for doctors?" Percy quipped, one eyebrow raised, and Annabeth shoved him, laughing as he feigned injury.

"It's not a ball," she argued.

"And yet, you're still going?"

Annabeth chuckled incredulously, as the couple walked hand in hand across the streets of New York. Percy had picked her up to get doughnuts, and she'd gotten the plain glazed, while he'd settled for blueberry. Apparently, her choice was extremely basic, but Percy had sneaked in a few bites from her nonetheless.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.

"You know that fairytale that little children like to hear before going to bed?"

Annabeth looked back blankly.

"There's a movie too."

"What-"

"The one where the girl goes to a ball and there's a prince-"

"Cinderella?" she offered and Percy snapped his fingers, elated.

"That's the one!" he exclaimed and Annabeth laughed.

"This is absolutely not a Cinderella story," she argued back, shaking her head in exasperation. Around them, people sped across trying to reach their destination in the shortest amount of time possible. It was like a race against time, but Annabeth had by now, accepted that they'd always be on the losing side.

"Of course it is! There's a ball, and there's a prince, that's me," Percy pointed to him in all seriousness. "There's you-"

"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous." She shook her head again and Percy put his head back as he laughed, letting go of Annabeth's hand and putting it across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

"You know I'm right."

"Absolutely not."

He made a face, and Annabeth poked him on his side, while he squirmed away. The couple walked hand in hand and they slowed down as they neared Annabeth's apartment, a small cosy set-up in a three story brownstone.

"You're sure you're coming?" she asked worriedly, and Percy turned around, taking her face in his hands.

"There'll be no prince without his Cinderella now, would it?" he said in mock seriousness, and Annabeth chuckled, shoving him gently.

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, while he reciprocated, enveloping her in his warmth. Annabeth closed her eyes, enjoying a moment away from the chaos of New York City.

"I'm just saying, you don't have to come."

"But I will," she heard Percy say and sighed in content. "I promise."

October had arrived and in consequence, the leaves had started falling. New York changed colour, Annabeth had observed, unlike San Francisco, which seemed never changing. No, in New York, there was always something to be seen, and felt.

Right now, it seemed orange.

"I have to go," she muttered.

"Don't."

Annabeth smiled, then raised her face to look into his eyes. Percy bent forward, kissing her softly.

"Six pm. Sharp." she said sternly as she stepped away from him, and towards the door.

"Yes ma'am."

…

Three hours later, Annabeth walked towards her mirror, checking her reflection in it for the umpteenth time.

She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged her waist and went flowing down to her ankles. Her hair had been let down for once, and her eyelashes had been curled and painted as per Piper's instructions.

She didn't look like herself.

Annabeth fussed over her earrings, smoothing her hair down, as she debated upon tying it up in a bun just for the sake of it.

Who'd care?

Percy would, she thought to herself, then realising he actually wouldn't. Annabeth smiled, as she thought about him, his ever-ready tongue that had got him into more trouble than he could account for, his eyes which seemed to understand everything and everyone in the world, and his heart, that had made room for her in the same way hers had done for him.

Sunlight flickered in through the window in her bedroom, as Annabeth paced to and fro, waiting for Percy's call.

She'd called him twice, and he'd disconnected every time, and Annabeth was slowly getting worried.

Her phone pinged, and she unlocked it, scanning through Percy's new message.

I'm sorry

'What?', she thought to herself, and called Percy again.

This time, he picked up.

"What the hell, Percy?" she barked into the phone, sensing Percy wincing on the other end.

"Someone I know got into an accident," he explained hurriedly, but Annabeth snapped.

"What in the world are you talking about? What accident?"

"Uhh.." Percy stammered, "car accident. It's bad, and I'm so sorry -"

"Cut it out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth sighed. "Do I need to go to the hospital? How bad is it, do I-"

"No, no," Percy denied, and Annabeth frowned as static came through the other end. "You don't need to do that. You just go to the party. You don't need to come, it's fine. It's okay."

"Percy - "

"I'm so sorry, Annabeth. I know I promised."

Annabeth bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up her little hairdo, as she resigned herself to the bed.

"It's fine," she said, more to convince herself. "It's okay."

"I'll make it up to you."

Annabeth nodded, feeling like a jerk for feeling like this, as static came though the call, and it disconnected. She blinked away rapid tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

She hadn't wanted to go to this party alone, but she'd make do.

Annabeth sighed, letting her hands fall down to her sides, composing herself for the upcoming slew of discomfort.

Cinderella would have to go alone, she quipped to herself, smiling sadly.

...

III

...

They'd fallen into an easy schedule after that. On the days he'd be in New York City, he'd come to pick up Annabeth at the hospital at the end of her shifts. He'd become popular among the nurses, having won them over by his quick wit and charm. Around the hospital, he'd started being known as Doctor Chase's new guy, something that Annabeth had secretly liked.

However, an incessant suspicion had settled itself in her head that something was up with him. With his untimely disappearances and excuses that didn't line up with each other, Annabeth had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.

Piper and her had chalked it up to her paranoia.

Today had been one of her worser days. She had lost two of her patients in a span of three hours from each other, and each time she had had to listen to the daunting sound of the heart monitor flatlining.

Ten years as a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she could still never get herself accustomed to that sound.

All doctors unanimously agreed that the worst thing about losing a patient was telling their family. There was nothing worse than to see their expectant faces as they approached them, and then seeing the light leave their eyes. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of it, and till date, she could never decide which evil was better.

Worst of all, their faces always seemed to stay with her.

"Miss Charlton's mother, please," she asked the receptionist, Margot, as she reached the waiting room.

Margot pointed to a seat at the extreme right corner at the back of the hall. Annabeth sucked in a big breath, steeling her nerves as she entered the room.

Her heart hammered painfully as she saw the woman get up and run to her expectantly.

"Ma'am," she began softly, but Annabeth could already see that the woman had understood.

"No-"

"Ma'am, the moment I opened up her heart-"

"My baby," the woman wailed, clutching at her heart, as she staggered towards the bench beside them.

Annabeth looked to the ground, her chest feeling tighter by the second. She didn't even think she knew the mother's name. Annabeth had always addressed her as Mrs. Charlton. Or Evelyn's mother.

Curse the Gods.

It was protocol that the doctor couldn't leave until they had informed the guardian about the happenings in the O.R.

After all, it was their ward the doctor had been operating on. It was their ward the doctor had killed. Annabeth had killed.

She sucked in a breath, blinking back tears as she approached Mrs. Charlton again. Annabeth had no right. No right to feel what she felt, when a mother in front of her had lost her baby.

Mrs Charlton howled in her grief.

"Ma'am," she said, and she stepped back as the woman turned on her, her eyes blazing, clouded with grief and anger, as she walked over to Annabeth and slapped her across the cheek.

Annabeth gasped, her hands flying towards her cheek, as she staggered away from the woman in front of her.

"You killed her," she snarled.

"I," Annabeth stammered. "I," she said, her voice breaking.

She tried to explain, but then turned and ran.

…

Outside, she took her phone out, ignoring the looks that she was receiving, as she dialled Percy's number, hoping to Zeus he'd pick up.

Still sobbing, she slipped into an empty on-call room, locking it shut as she sank to the floor, her legs trembling, the emotions of the day catching up to her.

As the call disconnected, she frantically dialled his number again.

"Hey, Annabeth," she heard his voice, and scrambled to put the receiver close to her ear. "I'm sorry, can I call you-"

"Percy," she sobbed, completely breaking apart, as she tried desperately to get herself under control. She'd killed that girl, and that was all she could think about.

"Annabeth?" Percy's voice turned frantic. "Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"No, no, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she blubbered. Somebody was yelling behind Percy, yelling at someone, at him? Annabeth heaved in a breath, as she fumbled to reduce the call volume.

"Hey, hey," Percy said. "What's wrong? Where are you?" His voice seemed urgent, and the person behind him was still yelling, making things inside her head seem even more deafening.

The voice in her head was mocking her for trying to find comfort in her boyfriend when she had just left a life destroyed, not a few metres away from her.

Annabeth stifled a sob, as she answered. "I'm at the hospital. I just…I just, had a bad day."

"Fuck, Annabeth," Percy said, her voice growing more frantic by the minute.

Annabeth jerked away from the phone as a weird static came up, followed by Percy yelling that he'd call later.

"No, wait," Annabeth cried, as the phone disconnected, "Wait!"

She screamed into her hand, pulling at her hair in frustration as she flung the phone away from her.

Tears leaked out, as the day's events flashed across her mind. The first patient, who'd been a John Doe, then Evelyn, Evelyn's mom, and now….and now Percy.

Annabeth heaved out a sob, as she finally rested her head against the door, her body slumping in defeat. She closed her eyes, and let herself be lost to the world.

Days later, Percy appeared at her door, enveloping her in his arms. With him, came an excuse and the sound of Annabeth's heart breaking.

...

"Can I see the trauma entry records for last month?" Annabeth asked the nurse behind the counter. She had a slight idea her name was Olivia, but Annabeth had never met her before other than by word of mouth from the other nurses.

"May I know why, Doctor Chase?" the nurse(Olivia?) questioned, as she got up from her chair, rummaging under her desk for a second, before she got out a slim file, filled with patient records.

"I just," Annabeth hesitated, "I just want to check something."

Olivia nodded, handing her the file, and Annabeth flipped through it, looking for the records under July 15. A few broken bones, a heart attack, and yes, a car accident. For a second, Annabeth's hopes were lifted, a cruel irony, until she saw that the time of entry had been at 11 pm in the night.

She had called Percy in the evening.

Annabeth felt her heart sinking as she read through the contents of the patient record, eyes flickering back to the time of entry.

11:58 pm. Annabeth had talked to him that evening at 6:59. She knew because she had checked.

"Everything okay, Doctor Chase?" the nurse questioned, and Annabeth hurriedly blinked back tears as she closed the file, returning it back to her.

"Yeah," she managed to say, "everything's fine." She turned to go, before pausing and briefly turning back. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - "

"Olivia. Olivia Hansley."

Annabeth smiled, nodding in thanks, then turned to go.

…

There had been no flight redirected to Chicago either. There hadn't been a flight in the first place.

Annabeth sat down heavily on her sofa, running her hands through her hair. He had bailed on her. Percy had bailed on her.

Already, a lump had set in on her throat, as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to distract herself.

She had been cheated on once by her ex. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if Percy had done that to her too.

She stifled a sob, raising her head as her eyes fell on the mural that he had given to her. Again, the waves seemed iridescent compared to her bland grey walls, but this time, unlike all the other times when it had managed to calm her, Annabeth felt enraged.

He had lied to her so many times. Disappointed her, left her waiting while he screwed some other girl.

But still, it was Percy.

And until a few hours ago, Annabeth had felt that she had known him. Known him just like he had known her. She had fallen in love with the boy with the green eyes and crooked smile. Who had shown up when she'd needed him Who'd brought her back from the broken shell of a person that she had once been.

He at least deserved a chance. And Annabeth hoped to all the gods of Olympus that she was wrong. For once.

She got up from her sofa, dialling the ever-familiar number on her phone. She heard it ring once….twice…..thrice, then heard Percy's voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"I want to meet up," she declared, her voice assuming the one she adopted in the operating room, when she meant business and nothing else.

"Annabeth, what?" Percy's voice came through the other end, and again, she could hear the familiar sound of static, that she had gotten used to on calls with Percy.

"I want to meet up," she repeated.

"Annabeth, I don't think I'll be able to -"

"Why?" Annabeth demanded, anger coursing through her veins. "What could you have possibly going on today, on a Saturday, that you won't be able to meet me for a few hours?"

"Annabeth, I'm sorry - "

"I'm so sick of you apologising," she interrupted. "What, you have some flight that's been redirected to the Philippines now, or somebody's dying again? Is it some other girlfriend that I don't know-"

"Annabeth, just hear me out," Percy's voice reverberated through the speaker, but Annabeth could hurl her phone at the very mural he'd given her.

"What, Percy? What can you explain? Because I have waited for you for so many months, overlooked all of your excuses," her voice broke, but she went on, "hoping…praying that you weren't like all the other guys who had left me hanging."

"Annabeth-"

"But you ... .you have completely exhausted me," she finished, sinking down on the floor, back against the wall, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. She gulped, breathing in deeply through her nose, but the lump was still there, hurting her throat.

"Just give me a chance to explain," his voice came through the speaker, and Annabeth shut her eyes, willing the past few hours to just go away.

"Explain then. Right now. Explain to me why you've been lying to me for the past few months," she said into the phone, voice clogged with desperation.

"I…..I can't," his voice came through again, and Annabeth closed her eyes, finally letting her tears flow.

Percy went on. "Not right now. Just… just one day. Give me one day, and I'll tell you everything. Please."

The sun was setting as the last few rays came pouring into the room, lighting up a few select tiles on the floor. Annabeth stifled a cry, as she snapped back.

"Don't fucking call me again, Percy."

...

I'll come. Jason will drop me.

Annabeth saw Piper's text, her fingers flying over the keypad.

Don't. I'm fine. I'll come over tomorrow.

Annabeth watched as the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, indicating she was typing again. Annabeth sighed, then typed back.

It's 3 am already. I just need some time alone.

The dots disappeared. Then a message popped up.

I'll be there first thing tomorrow.

Annabeth smiled sadly, then switched off the phone. Her phone screen flashed as the clock turned to three, and she sighed.

Outside, the night had taken on its darkest, the wind blowing against the window shutters, making the room inside deafening. The night felt like her, had become her, and Annabeth could barely do anything without being reminded of the hurt in her chest.

Try as she may, she couldn't shake it. Hadn't ever even met with this hurt before.

Annabeth had fucked up. After Luke, she had vowed to neve give her heart away to anybody ever again. But then Percy Jackson had appeared, and got under her skin. And try as she may, she hadn't been able to stop it.

Annabeth buried her head in her pillow, letting her tears soak into the linen.

Outside the storm raged on, unrelenting, unyielding.

How Dickensian indeed.

Then, the bell rang. Annabeth jerked up from the sofa, immediately reaching for her phone. Was it Piper? No, Piper had a key. She'd walk right in.

Annabeth crept closer to the door, her thumb just inches away from dialling 911. She'd seen reports of people being robbed at gunpoint by late night visitors. She'd even treated them in the ER.

The bell rang again, and Annabeth hyperventilated, furiously typing in the digits, hands trembling, when a voice came through.

"Annabeth, it's me!" the voice yelled through, and shestilled, her heart in her throat. "It's Percy, don't call the police!"

Annabeth frowned, phone away, as she slammed open the door, wincing at the onslaught of the wind against her face. She glared at Percy, who was heavily leaning on the wall beside her, hand on his side.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes flashing, her back against the harsh drops of rain.

"Just hear me out, Annabeth, please," Percy begged, and for the first time in a few weeks, she looked into his eyes, really looked and saw, to her surprise the desperation in his face, an emotion that she had never before seen on him.

"Are you going to lie to me again?" she bit back, and Percy tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers.

"Just the truth," he replied. "Nothing else."

She glared at him, and then let the door open wide. Percy got up, shuffling forward, before his legs buckled. Annabeth rushed forward and caught him before his knees reached the ground.

"The fuck," she muttered. It was then, her eyes scanned over his body, noticing the gaping wound on his side. It was why he was leaning against her wall, and looking at it now, the blood had seeped into the wall as well. On top of that, he was soaking wet too.

"I'm fine," Percy muttered, looking at her expression, but Annabeth looped his hand around her neck, as she hauled him up. Percy grunted, but complied as they both shuffled into the house, Annabeth kicking the door shut in the process.

Once inside, she settled him on her sofa, before rushing into the kitchen, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. On second thought, she got up a few select pain meds as well, before sprinting back towards him.

"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded, as she cut open his shirt. Annabeth cursed internally, as she touched his cold skin, knowing it was because he had been in the rain for so long.

"I…" Percy hesitated.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly, as she examined the wound. In the light, she could see a few bruises forming on his face as well, and not for the first time, she wondered what he had been up to.

"Bullet graze," he muttered, and Annabeth smarted back.

"What?" she cried out. "What the fuck do you mean by a bullet graze?"

"I…"

"No, don't speak," she commanded. "Wait until I've patched you up."

Under the yellow light of her tungsten bulbs, Annabeth poured the rubbing alcohol on his wound, ignoring his wince, as she pulled out a cauterised needle and thread from the first aid box.

"I'm going to stitch you up, okay?" she said, gently swatching a generous amount of numbing cream on his wound.

Annabeth worked on the stitches, her fingers flying over the broken patch of skin in record-breaking speed, trained from years and years of practice and experience.

She noted briefly how he barely winced, and as she finished up, wrapping a roll of gauze around his abdomen, Annabeth noticed Percy's eyes on her, silent through the entire ordeal.

She handed him a towel instead and a pair of shorts that he had left in her house last time he had been there, which now that she thought about it, had been over six months ago.

The familiar burst of anger ignited in her veins again, as she turned away from him, giving him the space to change. She wrapped up the gauze and needle in a cellophane plastic, all the time being acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room. Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, sucking in a few heaving breaths before going back into the room again.

Percy was now standing beside the sofa, waiting for her.

"Sit," she commanded, and Percy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You'll rip the stitches."

He nodded, facing her as she leaned opposite to him, biding him to start.

"I lied." He said, hsi voice barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling for a long time.

Annabeth said nothing.

"I lied about my job. About what I do," he admitted. "I am not an international aid worker, or whatever the fuck I told you I was," he said, his eyes looking straight at hers.

"I work in the special forces," he ended, and Annabeth imperceptibly sucked in a breath. "I work for an organisation, named Olympus. They give me my missions, and I carry them out. They give me my orders, and I follow them."

Annabeth's eyes softened, and she dared to ask. "So, all the times you lied to me -"

"I was in Jakarta. Slovakia. Portugal. Venice," he finished. "While I'm working, I'm in multiple places at once. The only time I'm at one place is ... .is when I'm with you," Percy's voice broke, and he looked away.

Annabeth gulped, her mind running through all the scenarios where she'd sensed something wrong, where Percy had had to leave suddenly after some call in the middle of their date, the number of times he had not been able to meet her for something after being excited for the same for much longer than her. It was all falling in place for her.

"And," Annabeth paused. "And, what does this entail?"

Percy looked back at her. "I'm breaking enough protocols to tell you this anyway," he chuckled bitterly. "But, I….I have lied to you about everything I do. I have let you down, but," his voice broke, "I have never lied to you once about how I feel about you."

Annabeth felt a lump rising in her throat.

"When I met you," Percy said, his voice heavy, "you were this brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon I'd met in the ER, who'd looked at me once and deemed me too far gone for my own good. And I was. My life is full of people who I've killed in order to protect myself, who've died in my crossfire, and those who I've killed under orders."

Annabeth watched as a few tears streaked down his face, landing on his hands. She frowned, blinking back her own tears as they threatened to overcome her.

"I'm a murderer," he went on, and Annabeth winced. "I kill people for a living. But then you…you have shown me how different life could be from my own, and I've fallen in love with it. I've….I've fallen in love with you."

Percy looked up at her, and Annabeth gasped as their eyes met, both of them overcome with emotion. She had pushed this man to the edge, hoping he'd leave her, but he'd come back. He'd come back.

She stepped forward, hesitating, before Percy gently caught her hands, pulling her over his lap. Annabeth yelped, before rushing to get up. "Your wound -"

"I'll be fine," Percy interrupted, one hand slinging around her waist, holding her in place.

Annabeth let her hand rest on his cheek, wiping away the tear trails on his face, as she felt a light shudder pass through his body.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, letting a few of his tears escape again.

"You won't," Annabeth replied, letting her forehead rest on his. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance-"

"No," Percy shook his head. "You…you have done everything right. I…" he shut his eyes tightly., shaking his head again. "I quit."

"What?" Annabeth jerked back. "What do you mean?"

"I quit today after I got back from my mission. I've been wanting to for so many years now, and after last night, I….I just couldn't afford to lose you to do something that was about destroying everything around me and losing everything I'd ever loved. I can't. I can't keep doing this job, leading this life anymore."

"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice heavy with tears.

"Annabeth," he said back, cracking a smile.

"I love you," Annabeth settled on saying. She smiled, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. Yes, she could say that now. She loved him.

Percy's eyes shone with tears, as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, raising himself just barely above the sofa to capture her lips in his. And unlike all the kisses they had shared before, this one was full of fervent passion, as the both of them clung to each other, sharing a mutual sense of need, brushing away tears and letting the midnight rain in.

"I love you," Percy whispered back.

Outside, the storm eased, as the rain found in itself the grace to die down into a drizzle. And as the soft pattering of the rain lulled into a wind that soothed away the lashes of the day. Annabeth drew back, eyes furrowed in question.

"So, your bullet graze is a -"

"Crossfire. Stray bullet," Percy accepted, wincing as he shuffled to get into a more comfortable position.

Annabeth nodded, before declaring. "I'm making an executive decision that you need to sleep."

Percy chuckled, complying as she helped him lie down on her sofa, getting up to go, before he pulled her back close to his chest, snuggling together, their warmth blending together to create one.

"I'm sorry I got blood on your coach," Percy muttered into Annabeth's hair, resting his head over hers.

"Make it up to me later," she smiled back.

"I'll do a lot more than that tomorrow," he replied, an evident smirk in his voice, and Annabeth laughed.

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