#sorry to be doom and gloom but this shit is exhausting

[birdietrait]

i'm so tired of capitalism and ai.....

#birdie rambles #get me out of here (earth) #sorry to be doom and gloom but this shit is exhausting #😕

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Insecurities

Warning: Disordered eating, insecurities, depression, anxiety, self-loathing, references to s*x but no descriptions and not smut, unemployment, language, super negative self-talk (reader calls herself a bitch and fat), pet names (babe, baby, love), not proofread

Genre: hurt/comfort, established relationship, Modern AU!Eren x fem reader

A/n: Italics mean it’s the reader’s thoughts. Sorry that this is very dark and sad. As with any of my writing, it’s very self-serving. I promise that I’m alright, just feeling a bit insecure (I’m on the bigger side) and this will be comforting for me and therapeutic. Take care of yourselves <3

WC: 2390

y/n, texting: Hey Ren! You think we could hang out after work?

Ren: Sorry, I’ve gotta go to the gym and have some errands to run so I don’t think I can tonight 😢I should be able to tomorrow though if you’d like!

I sigh, feeling the familiar pressure settling on my chest as my stomach growls.

y/n: Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Tomorrow works! Love ya!

Ren: Love you too, babe.

I toss my phone to the side, heaving another sigh as I flop my head back. 

I can’t expect him to realize something is wrong if I don’t tell him. How can you be both so good at hiding how you feel AND expect Eren to see through it? Dumb bitch, this is why you are disappointed so often, people can never live up to your unrealistic expectations. 

Tears prick my eyes and I decide that the growling of my stomach is too obnoxious to ignore, so I walk to the fridge knowing I won’t find anything satisfactory. Settling on some cheese sticks, I fill the gaps with a bit of sparkling water.

If you want to like how you look in pictures, this better be the only thing you eat today. 

Nodding to myself, I go back to my bed to finish my snack before sliding under the covers. Having not had more than one meal each day for longer than I can remember, I’m definitely exhausted. I’ve been searching and applying to jobs so often that I’m mentally just shot.

You should’ve never left your job. Sure they treated you like shit, but at least you had a paycheck. You’re so stupid for thinking you’d get a job quickly. And any place you work is going to be the exact same since you’re so fucking lazy.

I squeeze my eyes together before I turn on my white noise in the background hoping to drown out my own thoughts. Slowly, I drift off to a nap.

---

When I’m snapped out of my sleep, the room is dark. I rub my eyes, extremely disoriented because something that wasn’t my alarm is what pulled me awake. I glance at the time and realize I had been asleep for at least three hours. There’s a knock at the door, and it dawns on me that this is what must have pulled me out of my sleep.

Wearing just Eren’s hoodie, I stretch before calling out, “One minute!”

You’re not really going to answer the door like that are you? Even though the hoodie covers your ass your fat thighs with their stretch marks are out. You can’t have someone seeing that!

I groan before stepping into my closet briefly. I pull on a pair of leggings but quickly realize they’re tighter than the last time I wore them. 

Ugh! You’re better off having your fat out. Just look at how these show the shadow under your gut! It’s disgusting.

For what feels like the hundredth time today I fight off tears not wanting to open the door looking like a crying mess on top of how shitty I already feel. I pull off the leggings in a huff and go to the door, too tired to care anymore.

When I glance through the peephole, I’m surprised to see Eren standing outside my door. I fling it open, confusion evident on my face. It’s only as he’s looking me over that I realize how messed up my hair must be so I quickly pull out the hair tie that was realistically only hanging on by a thread anyway. 

His warm smile that crinkles his eyes and his musky scent envelope me, momentarily lifting the cloud off of me. But just as quickly as I felt better, the doom and gloom returned along with guilt.

Look at how handsome he is, it’s so unfair of him to be stuck with you. You were too obvious about how you felt and now you’ve forced him to come over here instead of doing the things he was planning on doing. Always a burden.

Fighting off the thoughts, I smile up at my boyfriend, trying to convey that I really am happy he’s here. A little worried about his response, I ask “what happened, I thought you were going to the gym and had errands to run?”

There’s an almost imperceptible furrow to his brow and I can tell he knows something is wrong.

Fuck! Don’t make him worry about you!

“I got off a little early so I’ve already gone to the gym and I decided that my errands could wait. You seemed off over text so I wanted to come check on you, and…I think I’m glad I did. What’s wrong baby?”

I pull him into my apartment and say, “nothing Ren, what makes you think something is wrong?”

I don’t want to worry him but, god, there’s nothing I need more than him right now.

As the door closes, the room is once again enveloped in darkness. “Well,” he says as he flips the light on, “for starters I can tell you just woke up from a nap.”

“I nap all of the time Ren, that’s nothing special” I say with a giggle, and to an untrained ear it sounds so very genuine. Not to Eren though. Wanting desperately to change the subject I ask, “Have you had anything to eat? If you went to the gym you must be hungry.”

As I go to walk towards the kitchen, he gently grabs my arm. “I had a smoothie, so I’m fine.” He’s still holding my arm when he looks behind me and sees clothes discarded on the floor of my closet, only he’s almost certain that they aren’t dirty. When he looks back to me, I can tell the expression on his face has bloomed into full-on worry. 

“Talk to me, y/n,” he almost whispers. 

I can’t hold his eyes so I look away, his thumb now rubbing loving circles on my arm. I steel myself so I can try to keep up the already fragile wall and look back at him with a softer smile this time. “I’m okay love, I promise. I appreciate you making sure I’m okay, though,” I say before getting on my toes to peck him on the lips. His eyes narrow slightly but he doesn’t press the matter.

Moving to the couch, Eren lays down with his head resting on the arm of the chair and invites me into him. I happily oblige. He has some random show on in the background, but as soon as I settle onto his chest and into his arms, my lip starts to quiver. My face is hidden in his chest, and I can tell he’s looking at the TV and not me, which is good because this time I couldn’t hold back the tears that had been brewing the entire day and, honestly, for the last nearly month. 

I lay there, crying quietly as some stupid sitcom plays. Only there came a point where my crying wasn’t so easily hidden anymore. I move my hand to my mouth in hopes to cover any noise but there was no hiding the sob that racked my body. This got his attention.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

“Hey, hey, look at me baby, just look at me,” Eren says with increased urgency as he shifts so I can comfortably look up and make eye contact. When I fight looking at him, he changes strategy. Holding me impossibly close with one hand on the back of my head and the other on my back, he rubs comforting circles anywhere he can. “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay baby. I’m right here. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.

My sobbing gets harder before it starts to calm down, and if I could’ve seen his face I would’ve known how each new cry broke his heart all over again. When my crying had mostly subsided, I tried to choke out an apology which only made me begin to cry harder.

Now, Eren insisted on me looking at him. As he held my chin he asked, “Why the hell are you sorry? I don’t even know what you’re upset about yet.”

Through shuddering breaths, I manage to say, “I-I’m sorry for c-c-crying and I’m s-sorry for making you w-worry and f-f-for being a burden and, and, and… just for everything!” I try to bury my face in his chest again but he stops me.

“Baby! You never have to be sorry for crying. Where the fuck did you get the idea that you’re a BURDEN?” As he speaks, he looks almost hurt that I would say such a thing.

“I-I took you away f-f-from your plans,” I whine out.

“That doesn’t make you a burden love,” he says as he strokes my cheek. Shifting again to get us more on eye level, he continues, “this is not what’s making you cry this hard though. Please talk to me, y/n. I just, I feel so helpless if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” By now he’s holding my face, so I can only glance down to escape his eyes.

I know what I’m about to say will make him mad, so I keep looking down as I whisper, “why do you even care?” I feel his hands get tighter on my face. Not so tight that it hurts, but tighter nonetheless so I know he IS mad just like I was worried about.

What I wasn’t expecting was to be met with silence. When I look up, his eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open. Wanting to escape the situation, I say, “close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies like that,” but as I reach up to his face to gently shut his jaw, he grabs my hand hard.

“Why do I even care? I really can’t believe you just asked me that.” Mistaking his incredulity for annoyance, I frantically begin to apologize again as fresh tears spill over.

“Please stop apologizing, y/n. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” This shuts me up and for a moment we just sit in silence before it’s his turn to look away and he asks, “Have I not been doing enough to make you feel like I care? I’ll do anything you need, I-”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean at all, you’re an incredible boyfriend and you make me feel so loved every day, it’s…it’s just that…” I pause to sigh. The last thing I wanted was for HIM to feel guilty. But how do I even begin to articulate what the problem is?

Eren waits patiently as I battle internally. Finally, I look down and continue, “It’s just that I don’t understand why you care about ME. I’m…I’m…I’m repulsive! I mean, just look at me!” I gesture to myself, still not making eye contact. Now I’m getting really worked up as I say, “We have no good pictures together because I ruin them all! I haven’t been able to contribute to a date in months because I have no money and on top of that you’ve had to bail me out financially more than once! I’m just…I’m useless! Fat, and lazy, and useless, and-”

I’m suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. Tangling one hand into Eren’s hair, I cry into the crook of his neck. For the first time in a while, I’m able to feel some of the weight lifting off of me. We stay like this for a moment and as my crying begins to subside, I can hear Eren speak through gritted teeth. Anger radiates off of him as he forces out, “did someone say something like this to you? Because if this is someone’s fault I’ll ki-”

“No one said this to me, Ren.” I lean back and realize he’s got tears glistening on his cheeks. I feel so bad for making him cry, but his silence implies he wants further explanation. I cup his face in my hands to wipe away his tears before I kind of chuckle and say, “No, no one said something to me. It’s just, I mean, I have eyes.”

“Well maybe you should get them checked then!” he bursts. I’m taken aback but it doesn’t stop him from continuing, “Because we must be seeing different things! Because when I look at you I just see happiness and love and sunshine.”

I chuckle again before I say, “Thank you Ren, but, to be fair, you’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to say that kind of shit.”

Without an ounce of humor, he interjects “Well if I’m supposed to say it, then I must not be saying it enough. There are so many things about you that I love, like how smart you are and your humor and your kindness, but I never would have even wanted to get to know those things if I didn’t find you jaw-droppingly attractive. Your hair that looks soft and shiny no matter if you leave it natural or style it, your eyes that I find myself getting lost in every time we make eye contact, your smile that can genuinely turn my day around. And you’re every man’s dream because I don’t have to choose between tits and ass,” he squeezes both as his says that, making me genuinely laugh which reflects in his own smile before he continues, “and while I know you don’t like your stretch marks, I love them both because I think they’re like pretty tattoos but also because the skin is more sensitive so it gives me another way to drive you crazy any time we have sex.”

Before I can respond, he finishes off by saying, “You asked why I even care, but the answer is simple, and it’s because I love you. You are the greatest person I’ve ever met, and I will spend the rest of my life proving this to you if that’s what it takes.” He then kisses me softly yet passionately, conveying exactly how deeply he means everything he just said.

“It’s not something I’m just immediately going to believe about myself, but thank you. That really helped, Ren.” I kiss him one more time before saying, “I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too y/n.”

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren aot #eren x reader #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot fanfiction #aot eren #eren attack on titan #eren x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren jeager x y/n #eren jeager x you

[the1975attheirverybest]

I get that it upsets people to think about Matty possibly falling out with someone he was (seemingly) close with, but if I got online and saw people pitying me like that I’d commit a crime. Like you said, it dehumanizes him. He’s so patient and respectful with us, all he expects is the same patience and respect back. He already gives so much of himself to us, through his art and just daily interactions, no one should think they’re entitled to anymore than he’s willing to share. He’s literally talked multiple times about how he struggles with fame and how much the press fucked with him as a child, he was famous before but one month hanging around TS and suddenly he’s everywhere, it’s just sad to think that his own fans are participating in it.

It’s literally just gossip, but if it’s true, it doesn’t concern us. Friendships end all the time, people grow apart, shit happens. If all this TS stuff never happened no one would be questioning why he didn’t make it to the wedding.

It’s also disappointing because he JUST came back to socials. All this shit (starting with the TikTok) starts up and suddenly he’s gone again. Yeah, I’m sure it has to do with the breaks they’ve had and him spending time in LA, but part of me wonders if he just doesn’t feel like interacting with fans online when he doesn’t have to. I know he comes and goes all the time, but either way, he sees all of this bullshit and fans know it. Theories about his personal life should be kept in DMs (or preferably in their heads).

I know people send you dumb shit but you’re one of the few people I’ve seen actually shut it down, or give a logical, reasonable explanation. I’m also loving Reddit right now since the mods delete any speculation about his personal life.

Anyways, this ended up being way too long, and it’s also me being a hypocrite for speculating, but these past few months have been exhausting, I thought it would let up after May. I know he’s a celebrity but he’s not like most celebrities. He interacts with us like we’re on the same level, he willingly spends time in online fan spaces, he goes out his way to make us happy. Sorry for ranting in your inbox, but this all just bums me out.

Yes I strongly agree with this, especially his social media presence because I’ve seen the shit that people tag him in. And it’s insane. He’s got thick skin and a healthy detachment from peoples views of him but he’s still a human being. It can’t always be easy.

I don’t think we appreciate his love for his job and his fans enough. Some days in May were REALLLYYY hard for him. Twice he had to go onstage and perform less than an hour after some nasty articles were being published about him. I love my job and my students more than I love myself. I would do it for free if the university didn’t pay me. But I don’t know if I would be able to keep it together if I were in Matty’s shoes. And sometimes he was the one talking us down. “I’m still here and I love you guys.” “Some people they have people. I have you guys.” C’mon! How does it not feel awful participating in behavior that hurts him or is in any way shape or form harmful towards an artist like that? He’s so good to us and goes above and beyond all the fucking time. And he’s spoken so much about how important it is to him that he connects with people and builds this sense of community cuz it’s a way to combat the doom and gloom of our current state. He’s always open and generous and kind. He’s given stage props to fans. He’s had a fan onstage to play guitar for robbers. He’s played songs that were not on the setlist just cuz people have requested them and he’s humble enough to feel that the show is about the audience not about him, so he will go out of his way to give the audience the best time that he can possibly give. and his own fuckin fans are doing this to him??? Unacceptable. and I’m so tired of it. This fandom is way better than this. We never used to do this kind of thing. We should cut this shit out before it becomes permanent.

[cringefries]

i’m so excited about lab partners chapter 5, but in all seriousness, i hope you are doing okay

Thank you for your concern :) here’s an update on my situation currently for anyone who’s curious/concerned:

So, I’ve suspected for a while that I might have ME/CFS (a disorder that causes extreme fatigue, among many other things). I’ve had symptoms since I was around 15 years old, but it’s been very moderate until now.

For the last two weeks, it’s gotten worse. I’m constantly exhausted, can’t remember shit, and have horrible brain fog. I actually passed out at work the other day.

So because of this, I’ve had to call out of work/leave early for a couple days. So now my already not-enough paycheck is going to be barely enough to keep the electricity on and get to work every day until I get paid again.

Needless to say, I’m under some pretty extreme stress right now.

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Some days are better than others, and I’m going to be seeing a neurologist soon. Hopefully we’ll figure out what’s wrong with me and I’ll be able to get accommodations at work or something.

Also, my birthday is this month! August 21st :) I’m honestly really sad because usually on my birthday we go to this nerd convention an hour away, but this year I won’t have the money or energy. It sucks because all of the VAs for the Crystal Gems (minus Steven) will be there and I was hoping to get all of their autographs :(

But yeah. That’s kind of an update on my whole deal. I’m so sorry that this update had been in the works for so long 😭

#also sorry for hijacking this ask to tell everyone what ive been up to

[daggerlove]

The online fretting at them not discussing anything related to S2 is making me a little sad. Nobody knows what's going to happen next season, but I the creative team 100% knows that the Twitter teens are a minority. A sucky minority, sure, but a minority. If Marvel listened to Twitter stans, Steve and Bucky would be canon and Wanda would have been written out 3 movies ago lol

Under read more bc this got too long, sorry.

Yeah, I'm sorry but the doom and gloom discourse that happened yesterday's so ridiculous. I worked 11 hours yesterday, was exhausted beyond words, still excited for the panel even though I was aware we're likely not getting anything new bc that's how Marvel rolls and then to see people freaking out over something so meaningless was both confusing and annoying.

I thought it was pretty obvious the RTS twitter was posting only a few quick bits and pieces from an overall 1+ hour long panel. And people completely lost their shit over the lack of content and thought that short thread was it, when in fact...there's so much more stuff and we're getting it soon.

People freaked out over Sophia only answering two questions in that thread, but then it was later revealed she was actively engaging with conversation the entire time and she wasn't ignored at all.

People freaked out bc apparently they didn't talk about Sylki and it's all doom now, but then it turned out they actually did talk about the ship lol

So...I truly don't get some ppl sometimes.

The event in itself focused mostly on writing, casting, random bts stuff, y'kno, pretty much the same old thing. I've said it before on Twitter but I'm still waiting for someone to mention He Who Remains/Kang or talk about that character in these new interviews, but it's unlikely to happen until promo for S2 and/or Quantumania starts. They basically haven't mentioned him at all in months. And he and the mere implications of his character and are enormous and huge deal for both Marvel and the show and no one's discussing him in interviews. Does that mean the character is dropped, erased, gone?

Like, it's pretty obvious that there's a clear set of stuff they're allowed to say at these interviews. The fact that they're not even discussing their own characters that much should be a clear sign that there's no deeper meaning to this, other than studio mandates, to keep stuff as vague as possible and focus on other things.

We won't learn new important things about season 2 at these events. We will learn that through casting, extras casting, bts info, potential pap photos and eventually whatever they decide to show us via promo footage.

And yeah, the crew definitely knows twitter is a minority lol. Even Eric called it an echo chamber months ago.

It's amusing that they think Marvel listens to what stans have to say because...nothing could be farther from the truth.

If Marvel listened to stans Stucky and all similar popular fanon ships would be canon. Steve's ending would be different. Tony wouldn't have died. Loki wouldn't have died. Natasha wouldn't have died. Characters would have vastly different arcs.

I remember people disliked Ragnarok bc they changed Loki and Thor's characters too much and they made petitions, hate tagged Taika, argued with fans who loved Ragnarok and thought it was great and what did Marvel do? Instead of catering to the demands of people who wanted Loki and Thor to revert back to their old personalities, they did the exact opposite and made sure Loki and Thor got stuck with that characterization for good, because it worked, the general fans and the public loved it.

Marvel caters sometimes by giving the fans some ripped-straight-from-comics refs or quotes, "avengers assemble" and similar stuff but catering to them on a larger level, one that affects the plot and the project's overall story? lol no

#people seriously need to chill #ask #sylki

[spideytingle616]

Five Months [5]

Part 4 / Masterlist

*based on the five stages of grief*

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, death, mentions of anxiety/panic, possible implications of sexual activity, blood/injury, swearing

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, you’re able to see a glimpse into your future. What happens if your future is also your end?

Word Count: 12.7k wow wow (bold and italics are thoughts, scenes following a +++ are a flashback)

A/N: Thank you all who have read this story! I have had this planed for almost a year, and I’m so happy it actually became a thing, though I apologize for taking so damn long with this part. I hope you enjoy. This chapter features a lot of flashbacks, so buckle up.

Chapter Description: Maybe the universe isn’t so bad…

Month Five, Acceptance: Love, and Never Forget

A new day. A new month. A new semester.

The subway ride feels extra bumpy today, most likely due to the large pit in your stomach. Going to school is never something you looked forward to, but when you got there, someone was usually waiting for you.

Someone that made the grueling day a little easier.

You sigh and slump into your seat. How does a train full of people make you feel so alone?

A completely different person could be seen in your window reflection. Or maybe you were just so numb at this point, your body was nothing but luggage you were simply dragging along.

Fuck, you were exhausted. Beyond the undereye bags and the dry hair, your frame looked like it was ready to buckle down and rest. It was already curling in, prepared to do so when given the chance. Your eyes shut tight as you clenched your fists, trying your best to quiet the anxiety that flowed through your body.

When you open your eyes, you look at your reflection one more time, ignoring the cold stare that met your own. The world keeps going, and so should you.

Everything was more or less the same at Midtown. People were alert after their long break, but they still dreaded the upcoming classes. Friends were reuniting with one another and chatting, and everything seemed normal.

But it wasn’t, at least not for you.

You close your locker, and as you turned away from the wall you were met with familiar faces coming your way. The two friends kept looking at one another as they walked toward you, and it was clear that they felt unsure about approaching.

It wasn’t like you were purposely avoiding them, so to speak. But their worried texts were plentiful, and with everything that has happened, you pushed away from their coddling. Your responses were short, usually, something along the lines of “I’m fine” and “doing good”. Whether or not they trusted that you weren’t sure, but it kept them off your tail long enough for the time being.

Fake it till you make it, right?

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you joke, opening your arms wide. “Come here.”

MJ and Ned smile at the gesture, quickly accepting the hug. It was definitely something all of you needed. You buried your face into their shoulders, happy to be with them again. Guilt pooled in your chest.

“I missed you guys… and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting” you sigh.

MJ tightens her grip on you, snuggling her face closer to yours. “It’s okay. We get it. We were just worried is all.”

“Still, it was selfish of me to do.” You pull away, looking between the two. “This whole thing is not just about me. I should have been there for you guys too instead of pushing myself away.”

“Well, we’re here now. Whenever you’re ready, to talk or hang out, we’ll be there.” Ned offers, and a smile reaches your face.

God, your friends were amazing. You couldn’t bear to hurt them even more with your doom and gloom. They deserved someone that would be there for them and listen to their concerns, instead of hiding in their own pool of guilt.

You quickly shake your head before speaking. “Thanks, I think I’m gonna be okay, though. If you guys need more time that’s totally fine, but I’m good. Nothing has to be weird between all of us, we can just hang out like old times, you know?”

Your friends glance at one another, their eyebrows pulled slightly tighter.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I’m glad,” Ned says, looking back at MJ for reassurance. “But you know, it’s totally cool if you still need time. After all, it’s been a rough month.”

You bite your tongue back from replying, your jaw suddenly tense.

Yeah, no shit…

+++

He’s gone.

Oh my god he’s gone.

He’s actually dead.

If someone came and ripped your heart out of your chest, it would be painless compared to how you felt now. You continued to stare at Peter even after his eyes closed. If you continued to look at him, maybe you could still pretend that he was alive.

When the police showed, everything was a daze. The flashes of red and blue sirens drew a queasiness deep in your stomach. As the officers forced you to let go of the boy, their voices muddled into the air. You felt completely disassociated from the scene in front of you, and all you wanted to be held in Peter’s arms. There, you could pretend that everything was okay.

“They’re still breathing!”

The shout draws you back into current time, their words shooting a current throughout your body. It couldn’t be…

“Airways are clear, but his respiratory rate is dropping. Get him on the stretcher now. Don’t let him go into shock.”

Were you hearing all this right? Too many things were happening right now, and no one bothered to tell you anything. The police were pushing you away from the scene as if you were a random pedestrian, and you were ready to grab them by the throat and scream at them. When you see Peter getting lifted into the ambulance, his suit now more red than blue, that was the last straw.

You push your way through toward the paramedics. If they were taking him, you were going too. You were right behind the red and white doors before a hard shove comes to your chest, stopping you from coming any closer.

“Excuse me miss, this is private business,” what looked like an EMT said. “Stark Industries does not want anyone seeing this. I’m going to have to ask you to go back with the crowd.”

You stare dumbfounded; at least Ned was able to get a hold of him, but the fact that they were acting as if you weren’t a witness and Peter’s friend angered you even more. “No, you don’t get it, that’s my friend in there. I- I need to be with him if he’s still alive. Please I-“

“Look, as much as I’d like to believe that we were not told anything about other parties being involved. So, to keep this under wraps, we cannot let you ride with us. If you actually do know the patient, you can follow us and figure out your clearance there,” they finalize before walking away and jumping into the vehicle. You don’t even get a chance to breathe before they’re gone, and the only remnant of Peter was the stain on the street.

The EMT did have a point. If you wanted to keep Spider-Man’s identity a secret, you couldn’t draw attention to yourself. Slipping under the newly posted yellow tape, you’re swallowed into the shadows before the police even notice.

Now here you were, in a dirty subway car at ten in the evening. Being a teenage girl, this situation would normally terrify you (Seriously guys, no means no. Why are you even near us to begin with?), but luckily the murder scene on your dress and the hollow glare in your eyes drove most passengers away from you.

Staring into space, your brain tries to process everything that just happened in the past hour. You sprinted across the city to find your dying soulmate, only to find out he isn’t dead? Or at least, not yet. Based on his current state, it could still go either way.

Shouldn’t you be feeling hopeful? Or at least some sort of relief knowing that Peter has a chance? Your body internally cringes at the idea. Getting your hopes up wasn’t great; part of you always hoped for a happy ending with Peter and look where that got you.

All you could feel was dread, and it wasn’t much better than the heartbreak prior.

The car slows down as the rest of the passengers stand and walk toward the doors, but not without giving you a worrisome stare. You ignore their eyes as they pass by; you couldn’t care less about what they thought.

You look down at your hands and focus on blood caked under your nails, trying to rub the residue away. Some looked like it came off, but the red-brown still pigmented your skin. Chest tightening, you lean back in your seat and let your head knock back.

Peter’s blood was on your hands, both figuratively and literally.

---

A chill travels through your spine, bile working its way upward.

Was that really only a month ago?

The bell sounds, its ringing bringing you more despair than usual. Your conversation was brought to an end, MJ and Ned giving you a nod to signal their departure. They forced a smile your way, and you keep your calm composure even after they turn away.

Pulling the straps of your backpack closer, you take a deep breath before walking to class.

---

“First order of business: team captain. Miss Allan’s parting was unfortunate, but both she and I believe this team will do amazing at the international competition this summer. We just need a new captain.”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m honored-“

“Not you, Flash.”

You and Ned snicker under your breaths, earning your partner an elbow from Betty. MJ rolls her eyes at the two of you, but her smile gave away her amusement.

Decathlon was supposed to be done for the school year, but your team’s win at D.C. earned Midtown a spot at its international competition in Paris. You didn’t expect the school board to approve the trip, especially with the large expenses it ensued. But apparently, they found an anonymous donor.  

Though no one could figure out who would willingly spend tens of thousands of dollars for a kids’ trip to Europe, no one was complaining either, especially when they were paying to include an actual vacation with it. As ecstatic as everyone was about the opportunity, it also meant that you would soon be back to frequent practices. And as much as you enjoy this club, more work is never fun.

“After careful consideration of each of your prior performances, I’m happy to announce that our new captain will be none other than Michelle Jones.”

Harrington continued his announcements, but you already stopped paying attention. You nudge MJ after the scattered applause, mouth still agape.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna be captain. Congrats!” you whispered.

“Well, to be honest, I didn’t know until just now. But I would have been pissed if I wasn’t.”

“And I would’ve had to listen to you complain about it, so it’s a win-win… can your first order be to rearrange the seating? I love Cindy, but sometimes she smells after gym.”

MJ scoffs. “Done, but it’s your fault if this all goes to my head.”

“Oh, I think it already has,”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just be quiet so I can listen.”

You roll your eyes as you let her turn away from you, grabbing your phone in the process.

You: Guess who the new captain is…

Liz: It better be MJ, I put in a good word for her and everything

You: It is lol. Good choice by the way, she’ll probably be a better captain than you

Liz: whatever 🙄

In the past month since she moved, the two of you found comfort in one another. Both of you fell in the direct line of fire, and as brutal as that was, it also meant that you weren’t alone.

+++

Lately, it seemed that your timing was nothing if not impeccable.

You speed walk to the cafeteria, breath getting heavier with each step. You’re usually one of the first in there, trying your best to beat the rush of students, but you just had to go to the bathroom beforehand. Amateur move, honestly…

Once you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks. Just ahead was Liz and her mom, both with boxes in hand. Her mom takes a right, most likely heading toward the office. All that was left was you and her, and the ten feet of tile in between.

“Hey,” you call out, gaining her attention. A tint of regret coats the air around you as you walk closer.

Where do you start, after everything that has happened?

“Liz, hey. What’s up?”

“Oh, hey. Nothing much, I’m just packing things from my locker and whatnot. My mom’s grabbing my file from the office, and after that we should be good, or whatever.” She sighs, looking down at her things.

“Wait, packing? Are you… are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, my dad doesn’t want us to see him in trial. We’re moving all the way to Oregon tomorrow. My mom has family there… nice area apparently, or whatever,” She purses her lips. “New York allows prisoners to call as often as they want, so no worries there, plus I’m all set for college so I can more or less breeze through senior year.”

You nod. Though you suppose the situation could have been worse, it was evident that Liz was hiding all the struggles she just got handed. Maybe if you were closer, you’d be able to comfort her, or tell her what she needed to hear.

“Liz, you’ve probably gotten this a lot, but I’m really sorry about what went down. I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”

There’s a pause before she finds your face again. “I think you do though. Maybe not exactly the same as me, but you were part of this too.”

You tilt your head, confused at her words. Setting her things down, she slings her backpack around to her front, unzipping it to find what she was looking for. “Peter left this in my dad’s car, but something tells me it was meant for someone else. It’s a little wilted now, but I still think it looks nice.”

In her hand was the rose that Peter had the night of the homecoming dance. You were so annoyed when you saw it. However, this time was different. You were not sure what you felt, but you were grateful nonetheless.

You take the flower from her, admiring the purple-red petals. Underneath, a card was tied around:

A rose for a rose.

You might not be my date, but can I SWING BY for a dance?

You let out a quiet scoff. If the pun didn’t give it away, the web doodles might have.

“You think I would’ve figured it out sooner,” Liz shrugged.

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t realize until it was right in front of my face," you joked back, earning a smile.

“I won’t tell anyone, by the way. He was just trying to do the right thing, and it’s not my secret to tell anyways.”

You nod at the gesture, relieved that things were not getting any messier. Not as much as they could, at least.

“I’m sorry too by the way…” she starts. “if I got in the way of you and Peter.”

You shake your head. “No no, it’s fine. Really. That was Peter’s choice to do that. I even told you we weren’t soulmates, so…“

“Yeah, well, I could tell that wasn’t the whole truth. Or at least, I couldn’t believe that it was the truth.” When you don’t reply, she continues on. “Obviously, I don’t know the whole story, or maybe even half of it, but almost everyone thought you two were soulmates before you even said anything. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

You pause for a moment. For someone who was only two years older, she was a lot wiser than you imagined. “Yeah, maybe it does… I don’t know, it’s just so complicated, you know?”

“I can only imagine.” She offers a smile. “But assuming he’s okay, wherever he is, I think it’d be a lot less complicated if you were in it together.”

With that, the conversation seemed to be over. You both knew that you weren’t really friends, but there was still a connection there. What happened homecoming night created a bond between you, a burning ember in a pile of ash. Everything died down, but there are still remnants that continued to burn.

If you guys chose to, you could let that memory die with the rest of the fire. But you could also choose to keep it alive and learn something from it.

Liz clears her throat, breaking the silence. “Looks like my mom’s ready, so I should go catch up. Thanks for saying goodbye.”

“Well, thanks for the mini therapy session. Hopefully, Oregon treats you better. If you wanna, you can text me once you’re all settled. We can talk, or whatever you want, really. Doesn’t even have to be about this.”

Her eyes light up at the offer, surprised at the generosity. “Yeah. I’d really like that. Thanks.”

You watch as she grabs her stuff from the floor and walk down the hall. The two of you send each other one last wave before parting ways, but you don’t move from your spot. Not until she was fully out of sight.

When she’s completely gone, you think about her words again. Maybe it would be easier.

Or maybe it’s just a faster route to trouble.

---

“You, me, Catacombs of Paris. It’s been on my list for years, and we are not missing out on that.” MJ declares, interrupting your daze. You didn’t even realize the meeting was over, most of the group already filing out of the library. “Jeez, how deep was your conversation with your pen pal? You look like you just woke up.”

You huff as you stood up from your seat. “How do you even know it’s her? Could’ve been my mom checking up on me.”

“Well, whenever you and Liz text, which is pretty regularly now, you get that weird crease between your eyebrows, and something tells me you’re not thinking that hard when you’re answering, ‘how are you’ from your parents.”

“You know, I think someone’s a little jealous that I have other girl friends to talk to.” You joke, checking her shoulder. “Any other creepy spots you’re forcing me to go to?”

Your friend’s face lights up, relishing at the opportunity to talk about her interests. You knew she had hours' worth of knowledge on the subject, and it gave you the chance to avoid talking about yourself. It wasn’t easy to distract MJ, but you had your ways.

It was easy to distract yourself from your current situation with Liz. After all, she was more or less doing the same thing. Your relationship was symbiotic; One of you would talk about your problems so the other could take their focus away from theirs, and vice versa. Mutual therapy, as you both called it.

The bonding made you feel safe. You made a friend and found someone that would need time to heal too.

At least, that’s what you thought.

For the last few conversations or so, the tone has taken a rather lighthearted turn. Liz started her new semester at Oregon a week earlier than Midtown, and she was already coming for the title of Ms. Popular. Though, with her being a hot, new senior, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

She was using her mom’s name for more privacy and was basically starting fresh. Liz even said she could still go to NYU if things died down after the trial. You were ecstatic for her, of course. She was incredibly strong for taking her life into her own hands and making the best of what happened, yet deep down you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated. In the end, even the people that have it worse still find ways to turn it around.

Your stomach turns. Maybe it wasn’t time that was the issue.

Maybe it was you.

---

Life’s kind of funny. Less than a year ago, you thought meeting the Avengers would be impossible. The only time you ever saw them was on the news or some badly edited PSA. For you, they seemed more fictional rather than real.

Now here you were, in the same car that Tony freaking Stark uses, being driven to the one and only Avengers Facility.

Despite the news about the Sokovia Accords, and the infamous “Civil War”, as they coined it, the building continued to stand tall and proud. The squeaky-clean windows and trimmed hedges were simply another reminder of how this lifestyle was beyond you.

Peter has been staying here for the past few weeks so the doctors could track his progress in private. With his mutated DNA and dangerous alien technology, they wanted to make sure there was not any permanent damage to his systems. Though this caused him to miss the rest of the semester, he knew it was for the best.

Despite taking a nasty hit, his super healing got him back on his feet, more or less. Just a few hours of physical therapy and some tests were enough to get Peter back to full mobility. However, he was still advised by the doctors to take things slow. Just because he could move doesn’t mean he should so soon.

This was the fourth or so trip here, yet every visit still felt like the first. All of this was so overwhelming, but you try not to let it show as you walk through the glass door. When you couldn’t find Peter in his room, your panic started to become visible.

Finding one guy in a 300,000 square foot building? How hard could it be?

Answer: not impossible, but still rather embarrassing.

After a few wrong turns here and there, you eventually made it to what seemed to be your destination. You wound up in a gym twice the size of your school’s. It had every piece of equipment one could need to train for a life-or-death mission, and you were struck with awe once again.

Your attention quickly focuses on the sounds of leather on leather. Across the gym was a boxing ring, holding none other than Tony Stark and your best friend.

The two didn’t notice you yet, so you took your time heading closer. Peter was in deep focus, his grey shirt tightening around him every time he threw a punch. Sweat covered the top half of the fabric as his curls brushed his forehead, and you could feel your throat drying up at his appearance.

You would have shown up earlier all those other times if you meant you got to see this…

“Y/N! Hey!” Peter greets when he finally sees you. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you that I was still in here. Guess I lost track of time.”

You wave it off. “Don’t worry about it. Looked like you were doing some good work.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so. Did you know the only fighting knowledge he had before this was from movies?” Tony interrupted, pointing a glove at the guilty party.

“Hey c’mon, Rocky is a solid resource,” He defended. “You ever seen it?”

The billionaire paused, mentally going through the five stages of grief. “Yeah kid, I think we’re done here. He’s all yours.”

“Sounds good,” You respond, turning back to Peter. “Something tells me you might need to freshen up before we start studying, so I’ll just meet you in your room. If I can find it, that is…”

The boy nods, feeling extra gross and sticky now that you brought it up. You send the two a small wave before walking out of the gym, trying your best to retrace your steps. Peter watches you until you vanish, to which Tony raises an eyebrow.

Maybe it was just him, but the spiderling was rather obvious with his emotions.

“Normally I’d say, ‘don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’, but clearly you don’t listen to that,” He says, snapping Peter back into reality. “Just keep it in your room, alright? Last thing I need is to spray this whole place with disinfectant.”

Peter’s mouth parts, slightly uncomfortable at his mentor’s words. “What? No, it’s not like that at all. She’s just helping me with all the schoolwork I’ve missed.”

Tony immediately stops, punching pads half on. “That- that’s it? You get a second chance at life, and all you’re doing is studying?”

He shrugs. “Well, you know, I haven’t taken my finals yet-“

“Finals that you can pass if you just study the night before like a normal kid.” He walks closer to Peter. “You escape the jaws of death and the one thing you want to do is study? What happened to you teenagers and wanting to ‘live a little’?” He mumbles the last part, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t use this experience as an excuse to shy away. I’m not saying go off and be reckless, but at least have a little fun, yeah? Do what you want.”

From one man who had a near-death experience (or several) to another, maybe he had a point. But then again, if you try to sacrifice yourself multiple times, you must be more than okay with the thought of leaving this world and the people you care about.

Tony finally finishes packing up, while Peter was still in the ring, contemplating.

“She’s a good one,” he shouts to the boy, getting his attention. “Might even like her more than you.” He pauses, realizing how that sounded. “No offense, of course.”

The boy’s face sours as Tony keeps walking. “Some taken… oh and hey! I know it was you that paid for the Europe trip!”

“Nope! Wrong billionaire!” He swings the door open, turning around to look at Peter. “But uh, I think there’s a light festival the same weekend you’re in Prague. You should check it out.”

“Uh-huh…” he grins, playing along.

+++

Thanks to his powers, Peter’s hands always got extra sticky when he was nervous. So, when Mr. Stark called him to come to his office a week or so after the incident, he tried his best to keep his hands to himself.

“Hey, Mr. Stark. You wanted to see me or something?” he asked, awkwardly shuffling through the door.

Tony looks up from his phone and nods at Peter. “Kid, hey. How you feelin’?”

“Oh, well I’m actually doing pretty goo-“

“That’s great,” Tony interrupts. “Anyways, here you go.”

He slides a paper bag toward the boy, to which Peter responds by checking his surroundings. Was this a test? Because there are some major drug deal vibes happening right now.

“What the heck are you doing, kid? Just take the damn bag.”

Peter snaps back to the man and quickly snatches it off the desk. He peeks inside and is shocked when he sees the bright red and blue suit. He clutches the bag closer, afraid it would be stripped away from him a second time.

“You- you’re giving it back to me?” Peter grins.

“Well, it didn’t really teach you anything when I took it away, so I might as well just give it back. Plus, your other one looks ridiculous compared to this.”

His smile falls a little, and Tony quickly backtracks for clarification.

“What I mean is that you did good work. I didn’t believe in you after the ferry incident, but you were determined. You followed your heart and ended up catching the guy. However, you also ended up getting shish kabobbed and almost died, which isn’t as good.” Stark mumbles the last part, getting a little off track. “I told you before that if something happened to you, that it would be on me. But if you won’t listen to me then… I guess I have to mentor you, and make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “As in…”

“Training every morning. We can practice using all your suit’s abilities along with combat in case you’re stuck without it. We’ll track your health and progress to make sure you’re not pushing it. Last thing we need is you showing off and hurting yourself.”

“Yeah, got it.” He replies, mouth agape. “I- thank you, Mr. Stark.”

He couldn’t believe it. This was all happening so fast. A few days ago, he thought he was supposed to be dead on the sidewalk. Now, everything seemed to be going well. Maybe too well? How was Mr. Stark so calm about it?

“Well, to be honest, you shouldn’t be thanking me. It was your girlfriend that pretty much convinced me to do this. Y/N or something?”

He cocks his head. “Wait, Y/N? What do you mean?”

“We met at the hospital when you were under surgery.” He shrugs. “Kept telling me how you were a good kid who was going to help the city at all costs, that you were soulmates and this was doomed to happen, you should get another chance, etcetera etcetera,” He dismisses with his hands. “It was pretty moving, really. She really believes in you, so I thought I should do the same.”

Peter tries to keep a neutral face, but this information made his mind go even faster than before. You never mentioned that you met Mr. Stark, much less had an actual conversation with him. With all the crap he’s pulled on you, you still said all that. And to an Avenger, no less.

He doesn’t comment about Mr. Stark’s confession, only giving him another thanks followed with a goodbye. From the looks of it, Tony was rather done with the conversation anyways. He leaves as awkwardly as he came in.

As Peter walks back to his room, he notices the air around him feels lighter. Fresher, even. He smiles at the thought.

For the first time, in a very long time, Peter was optimistic for the future.

---

Never mind, maybe he should have died that night.

Studying was a far worse punishment.

Peter groans and buries his face deeper into his pillow, a string of obscenities following shortly after. You turn and frown at the sight. Sure, you weren’t any better during finals week, but this was just sad.

“C’mon dude,” you said as you shook his shoulder. “Get up. We’re almost done with this.”

He groans louder at your comment. “Too much work. Math isn’t even real.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Yeah okay. Tell that to Gonzales, I’m sure you’ll keep your number two spot after that.” You snort, not registering Peter’s shock as he propped himself up.

“Two? Don’t you mean one?”

Shit. “I mean, not exactly. Finals week happened a little bit ago. Grades change, you know?”

“Okay…” He gives you a look. “Well, then who scored high enough to beat me?”

Your lips tighten, but your silence, in turn, answers his question.

“No…” Peter realizes. “You- no….”

“Pete-“

“You’re first now? You took my freaking spot?”

Your mouth hangs open trying to think of a proper response and your friend scoffs. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “After all this time, I didn’t realize my best friend would become my enemy. Now I actually have to try.”

“Ouch. A nice congrats or something would have been nice, you know,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, at least I’m being nice and trying to help.”

“Help? Or sabotage?” Peter smirks, sitting up. Stiff from his previous meltdown position, he clasps his hands together and stretches his arms upward. He doesn’t get very far before he flinches back down, hands now gripping his side as he quietly whimpers.

You immediately assume the worst as you turn closer to Peter, but he shakes his head, a sign telling you it’s nothing serious. He takes a few more deep breaths before looking at you, now sheepish.

“Sorry bout that. I think I overdid today,” he explained, gently rubbing his abdomen.

“Peter…” you pout. “Thought the whole point of you being here was so that you wouldn’t overdo it.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. I didn’t think a late-night workout would cause too much trouble,” he says, and your eyebrows furrow, disappointment evident. Peter slumps further down, throwing his hands up. “I won’t do it again, okay? It’s my last weekend here, anyways. I’ll take it easy for the next few days. Promise.” He then offers his pinkie to you, and you accept it with a sigh.

Your eyes wander down his chest, stopping at the top of his waist. You’ve never actually seen it, the wound and the scar that it left. At least, not since the incident. Your chest tightens at the thought. It was so bloody, and dirty, and just plain gross.

It was supposed to be the end of him, the end of everything you had. And now here he was, studying for a calculus test.

How was all that a month ago?

“Does it always hurt?” you ask before you could stop yourself. Peter follows your stare before looking at you again.

“Nah, just sometimes,” he starts with a small shrug. “It’s usually a dull ache every now and then, but it hurts more right now, cause, you know…” He looks away in shame. “Speaking of, I need to put this cream stuff on before I forget, supposed to keep it clean and help with the healing. I forgot to put it on after training.” He leans forward to grab the tube off his desk, and you could tell the easy motion was rather painful.

“I could do it if you want,” you offer, eyes widening immediately afterward. The two of you have been keeping physical distance between one another, and now here you were, basically asking to caress him. “I mean- if you think it would be easier.”

He takes a moment to think before giving a small nod, not saying anything as he hands you the cream. You both seem unsure of this, but you slowly grab the tube anyways. You take your time unscrewing the cap, giving Peter a chance to change his mind. When you look back up, he’s already staring at you, waiting for your next move.

You scooch closer toward Peter, and the air starts to get thicker. Tense. One wrong move could ruin this whole thing. You cringe at the thought. It’s not that deep, you tried to rationalize.

But this was Peter. Every small action meant something more.

Fisting the bottom of his t-shirt, you bring it to his chest to reveal the scar. You let out a shaky breath, looking at the newly exposed skin. It was the same as the last time you saw it: You could still see the tinges of pink under the lights, and his chest was still firm. But now all that was blemished with a horrid red line on his right.

That fucking scar. If looks could kill, your stare could probably reopen the wound that was once there. It makes you so frustrated to know the memory still stains his body. Peter once mentioned that his powers speed up his healing process, but marks like these last a lifetime for normal people, so you imagined that if it were to go away, it wouldn’t be for years.

You shake the thoughts from your head as you squeeze the cream onto your fingers, using your thumb to warm it up. Shifting your weight forward, you lean in even closer to him and gently touch Peter’s skin. The contact causes him to tense at first, but he eventually softens under your touch as you massage in the substance.

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off you. He watches how softly your fingers graze his scar, and how his skin was burning at the contact. It reminds him of that weekend: The hungry kisses, the skin on skin after you took your shirts off. Even when you were pulling him for more, you were never rough. You let him dip his toes first, making sure he was doing what he wanted.

Mr. Stark’s words come back to him. Live a little… have some fun… do what you want…

And right now, Peter thinks he wants more.

He sits up straighter (or at least as much as he could) and brings his hand up toward you, tracing your jaw with his fingertips. His thumb rubs the center of your cheek, bringing your focus away from his scar. You don’t realize how close the two of you are until you face him again. Peter’s stare flickers between your eyes and mouth, and you swallow hard. Though his touch was warm, your mind was frozen.

Were you supposed to do something? What did Peter want? Your questions were soon answered as he started to close the distance between you, ever so slowly. And though a part of you wanted to meet him halfway, memories cloud your head.

Blood.

Rubble.

Tears.

Peter holding on for dear life.

Fear shooting through your veins.

With a sharp inhale, you put your weight on your palms and back away. Peter stays where he is, his body a few seconds behind. After a few seconds, he lowers his hand down as concern floods his eyes.

“I- I should go,” you announce. Pushing yourself off the bed, you quickly pack your stuff away, not bothering to check if you got everything.

“I thought we were going to study more-“

“Just look up some practice problems online and you should be good. The curve helps a lot too.” You zip your backpack. “You’ll be fine without me.”

Peter fumbles for an excuse. “Well, it’s getting late, though. Wouldn’t you rather spend the night like last weekend?”

“No, it’s cool. Happy said they always have a driver on call just in case. Might as well put use them,” you shrug. “Anyways, bye!”

You quickly slam the door behind you, and Peter cringes at the sound. What the hell just happened? He brings his palms to his eyes with a heavy sigh. The last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward, yet he still managed to drive you out of his room and onto a two-hour car ride instead. Did he misread the situation that bad?

Meanwhile, you were still on the other side of the door, eyes wide. Did you really just do that? You were always so upset when Peter didn’t communicate with you, but now you were no better. You turn back to face the door, hand on the doorknob, yet the turn never came. Eventually, you let go and back away, and pull out your phone before turning the corner and out of the hallway.

At that same moment, Peter decided to stand up and follow you. Even if you wanted to leave, he didn’t want all his feelings to go unsaid. He pushes through the soreness and reaches the door, yanking it open.

He sticks his head out into the hall, but he doesn’t see you. Peter’s frame shrinks. A big part of him wanted to chase you, to see if he could catch up before you had the chance to go, but if you were already so far gone, it must be for a reason. With a frown, he slowly shuts his door, hoping that maybe you’ll come back before the click.

You never do.

Sleep never comes to you that night, thoughts about a brown-haired superhero circling your head. You knew that leaving was not the best idea. And not turning back when you had the chance was also not the greatest call. But at that moment, the idea of confronting your fears and worries seemed so much worse.

Grabbing your pillow, you smother yourself as you let out a quiet scream. By the time you uncover your face, you can already see the sun.

---

Neither of you mentions that night. Not that you were purposely avoiding the topic. In fact, you wanted to apologize for your abrupt exit, and maybe talk about what was going on between you two, but there was never a good time to do so.

Peter’s reappearance was not going as smooth as you thought it would. No offense to the boy, but you didn’t think many people would notice he was gone. But with the lack of Spider-Man sightings, and all the chaos surrounding homecoming weekend, people were chatty.

The first day he came back to school, Flash kept asking what happened to the friendly neighborhood hero. Poor Peter tried his best to blubber an excuse about him having a mission out of the country, but that just confused his classmates even more.

Others were asking why he missed all those weeks of school, which caused him to create an elaborate lie about having an extended family in Europe. It took everything for MJ not to outright laugh at the scene, which you later scolded her about.

Combine that and all the work he needs to catch up on, you thought it would be best to wait a little longer.

Eventually, Friday rolls around and all of you have survived another week. You, Peter, Ned, and MJ were talking around your locker before school when Ned claps his hands together, a lightbulb turning on in his head.

“Oh, dude! Now that we’re all here, we should all play some D&D!” He grins, getting giddier by the second. “We finally have a good amount of people, plus it’ll be a good way to have Betty get to know you all better as a group. I got this new book for Christmas and I’ve been planning a campaign for weeks. Spoiler alert: it’s awesome!” He quickly spits out, looking toward the group for a response.

Turns out Betty and Ned were soulmates, though no one knew until recently. Except for MJ, of course. When she gossiped about it homecoming night, Ned spilled all the beans.

They found out a few weeks after D.C., but though the two of them were pleased with the pairing, Betty didn’t feel ready to go into a relationship. Ned was accepting of this, being the sweetie he is, and the two of them are slowly building a friendship, though they are quite affectionate with one another. It was adorable, and slightly jealousy-inducing all at once.

MJ crinkles her nose. “I suppose I could try it. No promises that I’ll enjoy it, though.”

Ned, Peter, and you all stare at one another before bursting into laughter. Your amusement confuses MJ, but she doesn’t interrupt the moment.

“Oh Michelle,” you begin, grabbing her by the shoulder. “You are in for a world of fun.”

“Does that mean you’re in?” Ned points to you.

“Of course, dude! You’re the best Dungeon Master around. That, and your mom always has tons of snacks for us whenever we play.”

“I’ll take what I can get, I guess,” he scoffs. “Should we plan for tomorrow or something? I need to add a few more details and Betty should be free then too.”

“I’m good.”

“Same here.”

“Actually, I can’t. I’m busy.”

The three of you turn to Peter, who shrinks down in size and offers a shy smile.

“C’mon Pete. I get you have a lot of catching up to do but I’m sure a small game break wouldn’t kill you,” you said.

“No no, I get that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just that I was gonna start patrolling this weekend… “ he explains, and your blood runs cold. “But you guys go on and play without me, I promise to join next time.”

Ned nods, the three of them continuing to talk like normal, but you stay silent, keeping your eyes in Peter’s direction. Patrolling? How come he never told you about this?

It’s five minutes before class when MJ and Ned decide to leave, heading to their first period history together. Peter decides to go to class too, but you grab his arm before he gets the chance to turn away.

“Are you seriously going out? What happened to taking it easy?” you hissed. Though your tone was rather snippy, deep down you were terrified for Peter. Sure, he was fine now, maybe even better with all his training, but was he ready to go back out?

Were you ready for him to go back out?

“I’ve been taking it easy for a week, and people are starting to get suspicious. I don’t know if I can make it through another one of Flash’s confrontations without getting caught,” he sighs. “Look, can we just talk about this later? Class is about to start.”

You scoff. “You’re just trying to avoid the subject.”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t want to hear you lecture me when I’m already heading to one. And besides, I already know what you’re gonna say so what does it matter?”

“You literally just described ‘avoiding the subject’,” you bite back, concern turning into frustration. “Nothing good happens when we don’t talk, Pete.”

“Oh really? Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah dude, I’m pretty sure. That’s kinda how a friendship works.”

“Right. Friendship…” A pause. Peter’s face hardens as he looks at you. “Fine, let’s talk: why didn’t you kiss me?” he asks, jaw clenched.

Your hand lets go of his arm and falls slack. When you said you wanted to bring up the almost-kiss, you didn’t mean now. Why was he turning this on you?

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, if I can’t avoid the subject, then you can’t either.”

You shake your head. This was not the time to talk about this. He takes your silence as an answer and moves a step back.

“I’m going out. Tonight,” he announces. “I’m not waiting around.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he turns around and walks away. The action surprises you; Peter was never the one to walk away. If he was, it was because there was a danger that he needed to tend to.

This time, he willingly chose to.

You mull over what he said before he left. I’m not waiting around. He said it with such conviction. It almost sounded like he wasn’t talking about Spider-Man.

He was talking about you.

+++

You didn’t realize the Avengers had their own private hospital section, but considering their job description, you shouldn’t be surprised.

The stale, air-conditioned air of the hospital welcomed you the minute you entered. Goosebumps prickled your exposed arms as the atmosphere around you shifted.

Yeah, you really didn’t like hospitals. Especially now.

The nurses didn’t know anything of you or your involvement either, so they couldn’t let you go past the designated waiting room, leaving you all alone in a stuffy room. You’ve been staring at the fish tank for the last five minutes, waiting for someone to at least come in and talk to you.

Ugh, fuck this.

You texted MJ and Ned the news about Peter, which was a rather chaotic conversation. You promised you would let them know the whole story soon, but now didn’t feel like the time. Not when your other half may or may not be alive.

When you left the school, Ned spammed Stark Industries with emergency messages, which finally got Tony Stark’s attention. You overheard some nurses at the desk talking, and apparently, he was somewhere in the building, talking down a woman. You had no doubt that it was May.

God, if you thought you’ve been through it, you couldn’t imagine how she felt. To find out your nephew, who was basically your son, is a crime-fighting superhero is one thing. To find out he was almost killed and is currently fighting for his life all in one night is another. You were surprised her head didn’t explode right then and there.

Another ten minutes pass by before May comes out from the patient area, eyes red and completely distraught. Tony Stark was close behind her, holding the door open as May’s crouched figure passes through.

You stare at the two of them and accidentally make eye contact with the billionaire. He sends you a nod before heading back to the hospital rooms, like it was the only safe thing to do. The anger from before quickly disappeared; at least you weren’t the only one in shock.

“Oh, Y/N,” May says when she spots you. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s super late, I think it’s safer if you went back home. I don’t want your parents to worry. Do you need me to call and talk to them? I can take you home if you need me to.”

“May, you don’t-“

“I mean it’s probably best if I go do something. I don’t think I can sit here for very long without pulling my hair out.”

“May-“

“This is all just hitting me so hard. I mean, how did I not even realize this? I feel so stupid. God, the nerve of Tony to pull this. I should have never trusted him-“

“It’s my fault, May.” You snap, ceasing her rambles. “I did this… I fucking caused all of this. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do and one thing led to another and… I killed him. I killed Peter. I am so sorry, May. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

May doesn’t respond right away, still processing everything you said. Her shoulders slump down slightly as she cocks her head. Out of all the news she got tonight, this one confused her the most. But as she focused on you and your shivering body, she realized she wasn’t the only one that had a rough night.

She takes your hands. “Let’s talk, alright?”

The next fifteen minutes were spent by you blubbering about everything. The soulmate memory, his Spider-Man secret, how you tried to keep apart, and how you found him downtown. You skip over the rather intimate parts, knowing it was probably not going to help May. Your face is red and splotchy by the end of it, and a handful of tissues covered the small table next to you.

May doesn’t say a word until you’re done. Though a nice gesture, her silence was more due to her complete shock.

“I am so fucking sorry, May,” you whisper at the end. “I should have told you, or someone, at least. It’s just that, it was Peter’s life on the line. I didn’t want to do anything and hurt him. I thought it was best if he made the call, but look where that got us.” You wipe your eyes and look away. The guilt was unbearable. May was nothing but caring to you, and you repay her by killing her nephew.

“God... I knew Peter was having a rough time, I always heard him at weird hours of the night, but I thought it was just school or something. I’ve always checked on him, but he would always say he’s busy.” She shakes her head. “I don’t blame you, though. I mean, I’m not exactly happy this all went down the way it did, but I can’t be mad at you for at least trying to save him, even when it hurt to.”

You sniffle at her words, trying to suppress any more tears. “He still got hurt, though. Peter being my soulmate cost him his life…” you whisper the last word.

May offers a sympathetic smile as she smooths your hair. “You know, people say the reason for soulmates is to be with someone you love forever, but it never takes into account some people’s forever is shorter than others,” she explains. “When Ben died… I was so angry at the world. Why give me this amazing person if I only got them for a short time? Sure, the world can give me another soulmate or something, but it almost defeats the purpose… makes it seem that I had to have this one soulmate before I had to a ‘real’ soulmate. Even after all this time, part of me will always want him…

“But even if Ben isn’t with me forever, I was with him for his forever, and I found a way to be okay with that. I gave him all the love I possibly could have, and I have no doubt in my head that it was worth it.”

You smile and nod at her words, but she could tell you weren’t completely getting the point. “You and Peter are great together, friendship or more. There’s no way he regrets spending his time with you, and I don’t think you do either. The two of you always had something special. Don’t push away from that, even if it might seem easier.”

You find May’s hands and give a firm squeeze, a silent way of saying thanks. For months, you have been trying to go for easy: less drama, fewer risks… but it was still a whole lot of pain. And for what? Never getting to be with your best friend in the way you truly wanted? May made it seem like the choice was obvious, and you wondered if it actually was.

A few quiet minutes pass until Tony Stark steps into the waiting room and approaches the two of you. You and May quickly stand up, waiting for the worst. You already experienced Peter’s “death”, you didn’t need to go through it again, especially if it’s real this time.

“Is he going to be okay?” May quickly asks, hands close to her chest, protecting herself from any hidden blows.

Tony’s mouth tightens before answering. “More or less…” he starts, looking down before continuing. “The wound was deep, and if he couldn’t heal as fast as he could, this would be a different story. However, it was still caused by dangerous, alien hybrid technology and he was already in a rough state prior to the… stab.” He cringes at the word. “Scrapes and bruises, a broken rib, some significant brain injury… Dr. Cho is doing the best she can, but as of right now, he’s in a comatose state.”

You gulp at the news. “So, what does that mean? When will he wake up?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But- but he will wake up, right?” you clarify.

A pause. Tony’s jaw ticks. His eyes quickly leave you before blinking and meeting yours again, but you notice it. The doubt behind them.

“I don’t know…”

---

It’s almost midnight, which means you’ve spent the whole night worrying.

You were out on the fire escape freezing your ass off. It would only take ten steps maximum to grab something warm, but the bite of the wind kept you alert.

You weren’t going to leave until you knew Peter was safe.

He barely talked to you since this morning. He sat near Ned at lunch instead of you and took different routes to class. You texted him a few times throughout the day, but he never replied.

So, when you sent a message checking in on him with no response back, you weren’t sure if it was him ignoring you or that he was in danger. You let out a sigh of worry as your breath dissolved into the night.

You never realized how nice your view was. The most use your window got was when Peter came in, but that hasn’t happened for months. It’s crazy that you consider that a simpler time in your relationship.

Your ears focus on the sounds of the city. The bustling noises often brought you comfort, knowing that there were thousands of people going through the motions of life. Tonight, however, it sent a feeling of loneliness to your veins. New York kept going on while you were wallowing and worrying. It didn’t need you, even though you needed them.

A sudden urge to cry makes your throat tightens. You really hope that Peter was alright.

When you check the time again, you saw that a new day began. You decide to shove your phone back in your pocket. Watching the clock every ten seconds wasn’t going to help.

You sigh, maybe you’ll feel different today. Maybe you’ll feel warmer because holy shit is it cold outside. At what temperature does hypothermia kick in? That seems like a question to Google, not experiment.

You’re about to turn back when you hear a soft thwip, and a Peter hanging outside down on the stairs. You weren’t too sure how he was feeling at the moment, his covered eyes not giving any hints, but you send a soft smile nonetheless.

“I’m not a damsel in distress if that’s what you’re thinking,” you break the ice.

Peter turns himself right side up, taking a seat on the railing next to you. He pulls his mask off and drops it in his lap, and you can see his face isn’t as icy as this morning. But his mouth was pulled tight, unsure how to go about this.

“I’d consider frostbite to be a crime,” he shrugs. Luckily, you had your window open this whole time. With a quick webshot, Peter sticks and catches the sweater hanging on your chair before offering it to you. “Especially if Spider-Man can stop it.”

You bite your cheek. Part of you didn’t want to give in, but there was no way you could last another minute out here. Slowly, you grabbed your sweater, your fingers grazing the fabric of his suit. A way of saying thank you.

“Slow day?” you ask, pulling the sweater over your head. The extra layer was already warming you up, and your body relaxes a little.

“Well, considering the biggest thing I did today was helping tourists find their way to the subway, I’ll let you figure that out,” he laughs. “Though I suppose some good work is better than no work at all. At least the city knows I’m back.”

Peter realizes that the last sentence wasn’t a good idea, your face slightly dropping at his words. He tries to keep talking in hopes of distracting you. “So uh, any reason why you’re out here tonight?”

“I was waiting for you. Couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe, I guess.” you sigh, looking back at the skyline. “I also wanted to apologize, for how I reacted. Even if I didn’t agree with you, I could have at least listened to you.”

Peter awkwardly nods, guilt surfacing at your confession. “I mean, I could have done the same thing too. I was so focused on the dumb rumors I let Flash get into my head. That was my first mistake,” he jokes, causing you to snort. “I’m not trying to get into myself into any death matches anytime soon, but I still want to help out, you know?”

“Always the hero… I learned that back in D.C.,” you sigh. “I guess I’m still trying to figure things out. Everything just feels weird right now, and I don’t think I’m making it any easier.”

He doesn’t say anything and faces back toward the city. He takes a breath of the city, smelling the mix of laundry detergent from your apartment basement and the exhaust from the streets.

For all his life, Peter was dedicated to New York. He loved going to the museums with May and Ben; he always tried to pay street performers with whatever spare change he had in his pocket; he rolled his eyes every time someone brought up New Jersey; most importantly, he wouldn’t take off the suit until he knew his home was safe, even if it was almost morning.

He’s done everything he could to protect his neighborhood and the people who need it most, yet he feels… almost distant from it all. As if Peter was trying to find something more to it. A faint memory passes through his head- what did Ben use to say all those years ago? Something like, “home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling”?

Peter’s brain sticks to the thought.

Suddenly, the last month hits him.

“I thought of you,” he starts, still looking out into the night. “When it happened, all I could think about was you.”

Your face softens as the beating of your heart becomes audible.

“I was so… angry about it all. I was so pissed off at myself. Even if I knew that was gonna happen, even if I knew or thought I guess, that that was the end, I was an idiot for not spending my time with you. I should’ve used whatever time I had trying to be something more to you, instead of pushing away what we already had. At least if I did die, I would be at peace with everything,” he chokes up a little at the end. “You’re my best friend, and one that somehow gets me. This place is my home and I’d do anything for it.” He turns his head closer. “But it’s nothing without you. Life feels complicated, it’s always been complicated… but I think it’d be easier if we were in it together.”

You bite your lip and pick at the skin. They’ve been chapped since you came out, but it didn’t stop you from using it to cope with your nerves. Peter was laying it all out on the table, and you were the one left silent.

“You don’t have to tell me why we didn’t kiss, it’s completely understandable if you rather just let it go. I’ve pushed you away too many times, it’s only fair you get to do the same at least once. But I want you to know this.” His eyes were bright under the moonlight.

The last hurrah.

“I would keep you in any possible way I could. I told myself that I need to be able to do what I want, and I want you, for however long I can get you,” he sighs. “If you’re not ready for that, okay. If you never want that- fuck – that’s okay too. I love you. I will always love you,” he says, passion dripping from his words and into your heart. “If you could wait for me, I can wait for you too. Whenever you’re ready, just say when. I don’t care what I’m doing, or where I am, I’m always going to be here with you. Even if you don’t want me, I’ll be here.”

I’ll be here…

+++

It took five days for Peter to wake up.

Five days of nonstop worrying and utter stress. Five days of you traveling to the hospital first thing after school until your parents texted you to come home. Five days of you not sleeping because you were waiting for the call, and you had no idea what to expect when it did.

The first day was somewhat bearable. May and you slept in the waiting room that night, and when you woke up, which was about four hours later, she took you home. Sitting in a sticky, vinyl chair was not helping you, and if May had to wait there for another minute, she was afraid she’d have another meltdown.

You were still a little numb from it all by the time you got back. It wasn’t until almost midnight that you started to realize, oh shit, you don’t know when Peter will wake up. If… he’ll ever wake up.

That first night you cried in your bed until the morning. Your face was swollen for the rest of the day, and when your parents came back on the second day, they were panicking that you had an allergic reaction.

You told May not to tell them. They didn’t need to know, and they didn’t need to coddle and worry about you. May, who didn’t exactly think it was a good idea, reluctantly agreed anyways. So, when your parents were fussing about your appearance, you laughed it off and told them you watched The Notebook the night before with some friends.

It was just easier that way.

The second day was spent with you wallowing in your room, waiting by your phone for something. May told you she would keep you updated and that you shouldn’t worry, which both of you knew was just empty advice. Hearing nothing was just as bad as hearing something.

Later that day, MJ sent a few news articles about the Vulture and his arrest. Apparently, his suit gave out not too long after he left the scene, causing him to suffer some internal injuries and harsh burns. He got caught by Stark Industries and was arrested quickly after, and is currently awaiting trial. It was likely that Adrian Toomes would be under bars for a while, and that brought you both relief and guilt as you tried to sleep.

The third day sent you to school, and at least gave you something to focus on. The tension between you and your friends was palpable, but no one bothered to address it, not sure where to even go. The only mention of that night was with Liz in the hallway before she left, and that was enough for you.

You went back to the hospital on the third day (after telling your parents you were staying at school for newspaper), and though there was nothing new about Peter’s condition, you still wanted to be there just in case. May was too busy with work to come in unless there was an emergency, and you hope that brought her more relief than stress.

You spent your visiting hours watching Peter sleep, or whatever people did when they were in a coma. You at least liked to pretend he was just sleeping, it made you feel better about his chances of waking up.

His face was so pale and frail under the fluorescents, and you wished he could wake up just long enough to get some actual food in him. You hoped he was at least somewhat at peace right now and resting away all of the stress he’s put himself under. The stress that you were also a cause of.

“I’m sorry, Peter. For everything,” you whisper. Even if he could hear you right now, you’re not sure you want him to. You slowly stand up from your chair and step closer to the boy, brushing his curls back. Gently, you lean forward and press a kiss to the top of his head, brushing the area with your thumb afterward. “I hope you’re doing okay…”

The fourth day is mostly the same. After school, you lied to your parents and went straight to the hospital. You quietly worked on homework while sitting next to Peter, glancing at him from time to time and sending his hand a reassuring squeeze every now and then. He looks the same as yesterday, and you’re not too sure if that’s good or not.

“You know he’s not going anywhere,” you hear from the doorway. Their voice was instantly recognizable. “Dr. Cho says he’s doing alright, though. Still don’t know when he’ll wake up, but he’s alright for now.” Tony Stark says.

You scoff. “No offense, but that ‘for now’ part doesn’t seem so reassuring.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, taking a seat next to you. “But considering this is probably my fault, I’ll take that over nothing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault. It was bound to happen either way, no matter what you did, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says, isn’t it?” he mumbles.

“Trust me, I actually mean it. If we’re going to put blame on anyone it should be on me… or the universe or whatever.”

Tony tilts his head. “Universe as in…”

“-soulmates, yeah,” you answer. “In our future, we saw each other after the incident, and I thought he died… now here we are.”

“Right, here we are…” he repeats. “They told me someone else was there at the scene when I got to the hospital, but I wasn’t sure who they were referring to until I saw you afterward. Nice to meet officially meet you…”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself.

Tony nods. “I’m sorry about how all that went down though. I knew the kid wants his identity to be a secret so I tried to keep everything under wraps as much I could.”

“No hard feelings,” you smile. “I was definitely upset at the time, but I could tell you were just as worried as I was. You wanted to protect him… I do too.” You turn and look at Peter, watching his chest go up and down with his breath. “I’d do anything for him.”

You don’t notice Tony’s faint smile as he watches you and Peter. Young love was beyond him, and watching it happen right in front of his eyes was both sweet and nauseating.

“I should be heading back, I only came here for a quick check-in. Still have some loose ends to tie up regarding press, but nothing to worry about.” He stands up, straightening his jacket. “Glad we got a chance to chat.”

“Me too.” You watch as he walks away, words still at the tip of your tongue. “For what it’s worth Mr. Stark,” you begin, gaining his attention again. “Peter is the type of person who would do anything to save people. He looks out for his family, his friends, me… I can’t imagine someone who’s more of a hero than him, and that includes the Avengers. No offense,” you half-joke. “Whatever you decide to do with him, I hope you give him another chance. He’s really amazing- powers or not.”

He nods, impressed at your words. Tony doesn’t say anything, choosing to offer you a smile before turning away, leaving you and Peter alone. You don’t stay much longer after he leaves, and you follow yesterday’s routine of kissing Peter’s head before heading out.

The fifth day is rainy, perfect to match your somber mood. School decided that today would be a great day to kick your ass and give you tons of homework, even though finals week was already fast approaching. You also forgot an umbrella this morning, and your clothes were still damp from your walk from the subway station. For the cherry on top, no one has had any updates on Peter since he went under, and your hope was starting to falter.

Without thinking, you took Peter’s hands in yours and started to fidget around with his fingers. The cuts on his knuckles were turning pink and gradually healing, while the calluses on his palms were still evident. Much of the skin around his joints were rough, but it meshed so well with the smoothness around it. You were never touchy with other people, but you desperately wanted Peter to squeeze your hands back. At least show some indication that everything was going to be okay.

When you actually felt a squeeze, you almost couldn’t believe it.

You straighten in your chair and turn your head up. A slow flutter of the eyes and a twitch of the lips make your body tense in anticipation. Is he…?

“Peter?” you whisper.

A quiet groan escapes his mouth as Peter’s eyes gently open, taking in the bright lights. You sigh in relief and blink away at the tears trying to come. This better not be a dream.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice dry and scratchy.

“Oh jeez, maybe don’t talk yet. I’ll go grab you some water and tell the nurses you’re up, okay?” you loosen your grip on Peter’s hands, but he squeezes again.

His head does the tiniest shake as he stares down, watching where your fingers touch his. “Stay. They’ll figure it out.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Fine,” you give in. You’ll be out of here soon enough when they find out, and you wanted to spend time with the boy who came back from the dead. “If I get in trouble though, you cannot play the ‘sick patient’ card.”

Peter lets out a gravelly laugh, his body still trying to figure out how to be awake. “I’ll try my best…” he mumbles.

“You’ll try your best? Seriously?” you scoff. “You finally wake up and your first words are some half-ass promise?”

He takes a deep inhale, both humored and annoyed at your teasing. “Fine. I promise I won’t… as long as you promise to be here.”

You smile at his quiet words, taking his knuckle and forcing his pinkie finger up. You gently wrap yours around it, looking him dead in his tired eyes. “I promise I’ll be here,” you whisper.

”I’ll always be here…”

---

A month ago, you promised Peter that exact same thing, and it feels like you already broke that promise. The world has offered you a second chance, and you were doing the same thing Peter did the first time: pushing away out of fear. Could you really waste another five months doing that again?

Could your heart handle that?

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something,” Peter stammers. “If you need some time alone, that’s cool,” he offers, fumbling to put his mask back on.

“-Peter, wait.”

He immediately freezes, looking at you with wide eyes. The wind was starting to pick up, and his curls gently blew in the breeze. The dry air irritates his lips as he picks at it, waiting for your next response.

You move closer to him, inch by inch on the railing; your hands are almost touching, your pinkie desperately wanting to link with his gloved one. You take a deep breath and let it trap in your chest as you stare at the boy in front of you.

Peter Parker.

Spider-Man.

Your soulmate.

But most importantly, your best friend.

The wind moves through your hair and chills your body, yet it jumpstarts every nerve in your system. Peter was alive; you were alive; and fuck, was it a good feeling.

You wanted more, so you leaned in. Your nose touched Peter’s and your mouths closed the gap. A small, innocent kiss to tell him you want more, and that it was his call to keep going. When you stop, and Peter realizes that yes, you did just kiss him, he comes back for more. And he’s not looking to stop anytime soon.

His hand lets go of the railing and wraps around the small of your back, keeping you close and balanced. He keeps the other one gripped tight to the metal; he doesn’t trust himself to not get dizzy from you.

You cradle Peter’s face and deepen yourself into his presence. Your heart is hammering against your chest and you love it. It makes your body heat up and radiates the air around you. You hum against his mouth as you suck on his bottom lip, making Peter whine at the feeling. Your sweater rides up as you press yourself closer, and his thumb draws circles on the exposed skin. The small action makes you smile; you were only half-sure you weren’t crying at the amount of love that was running through your veins.

It seems like forever until you two are pulling away, absolutely blissed out and breathless. Neither of you go that far, faces still just a space or two away.

You look into Peter’s glassy eyes. If something were to happen to him, if you had to say goodbye to him in the worst way possible, if you had to grieve for a lifetime in order to move on, if you had to spend every day thinking of him and crying until your face was red and dry…

It was worth it. You were grateful to be loved by Peter Parker.

You catch your breath and take a slow inhale. It smells like cedarwood. Home.

You lean forward again and Peter meets you halfway. Your lips are just touching when you whisper into his mouth his new favorite word.

“When.”

Part 4 / Masterlist

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[vtforpedro]

health update - long, long post

two out of three appointments done!! good news all around. first, with my hematologist... so apparently I've been in remission since december and didn't know it because the literature talks about milestones you have to reach for the type of leukemia I have but lmao ???? hey I've been in remission for almost eight months, cool ;P if I go two years with no signs of leukemia, we can extend my appts out! but for now we will still check labs every three months my endocrinologist sent me to an Expert Thyroid Radiologist and she said my ultrasound on the goiter/nodules looked good enough to not even need another ultrasound again (barring any major changes in numbers, I imagine) and my tsh levels are excellent so 👌 don't have to do labs again for a year!! I see my rheum on the 3rd and I imagine it will go much the same way as I've already seen my labs and they look ok to my layman's eyes lol and thank god she let me switch to a telehealth appt so I don't have to go in for this one because I had to go in yesterday to my hematologist's office hnnnn this is all really good news and feels great but GOD! it's extremely hard to tell what's been giving me symptoms since CML, hypothyroidism, and of course rheumatic diseases all cause intense fatigue, appetite weirdness, skin problems and more. but depression/anxiety/ptsd also cause all of these things and so do both of my neurological conditions. my rheum thinks the basic symptoms my PCP was concerned about for lupus or scleroderma is the whole shebang combined and I'm sure she's right it's always been the neuro shit that's given me the worst symptoms and agony and extreme discomfort I've ever felt in my life lol and that has an uncertain and at this moment frightening future so... yeah, we'll see where I'm at in a few months I guess and if there's been any improvement. but fighting what happens in my brain every day is the most exhausting thing I've ever done and the damage it does to my mental health cannot be understated, which my neurologist loves to do! so as soon as I do a couple tests he ordered I'm finding a new one. not for new answers, but only for someone not a complete mess of a person who contradicts themselves constantly within the same breath y'all my last appointment with him was absolutely BANANAS. he spent more time complaining about the company he worked for and defending himself and justifying himself to himself??? than like. treating me lol he makes so so so many mistakes, he lies, and I'm still boiling over the question he asked on the phone on july 1st 'so did anyone go over your MRI results with you?' (from mid-APRIL) like do you mean YOU, SIR???? god. he reviewed them with me on my appt on july 14th and got all huffy about them doing 'the wrong MRI' cause I was supposed to have an MRV, not an MRA, and yet he has put in like 6 or 7 orders (four in the same day) for an MRA, including on the 14th, just in case you need a picture of what this man is like. I could make three whole posts about him, he's chaotic and not in a good way him: 'well you've lost 30 pounds and with IIH, that should show improvement. and since there's no improvement, that's very uncharacteristic so it could be something else. but also keep in mind that even with losing the weight there may not be any improvement in IIH symptoms' hmm still working that one out anyway I've had insomnia for the majority of my life and only medical marijuana helped. I'd go to bed at midnight and not fall asleep until 3 AM if I was lucky before I tried it. now that I can't be on it, but I am at war with my brain 24/7, I'm sleeping the whole night through better than I have for most of my life 😒 this sounds like a good thing, but I'm still exhausted waking up every morning. my brain can't catch up on rest while it's this bad I still don't have a lot of hope for this shit. and it is IIH, he just doesn't want to say it. we all know it's IIH, it's literally the one explanation and fits all my symptoms. I wish it had been the easiest one to cure and was gone because it's a living hell. gonna continue

working toward my goals and hope my health is eventually as kind to me for this as it's been for the CML I really want to go to therapy to deal with the trauma of the last year and a half but I can't have a conversation, especially not an emotional one, and I can't process or think very well when talking to someone anymore. it sucks and it's scary feeling my brain function is not what it was just two or three months ago. memory 👎 decision making skills 👎 processing questions 👎 mixing things up/confusing myself on the daily? 👍 neuro referred me to a neuropsychologist for cognitive function stuff so yeah. hoping for a miracle at this point anyway, pretty proud of myself for losing weight though and in a healthy way. my neurologist, neurosurgeon and psychiatrist seemed doubtful I could do it on my own, but my 31lbs gone says hey fuck you lmao 19 more to my big first goal! even if it doesn't fix IIH and I have to have surgery, not being obese anymore will make it safer and I'll feel better all around. started at 210 and I'm now at 179 c: sorry for good news and also doom and gloom but s i g h at least there's forward progress in some ways, right?

#medical #personal #vtforpedro personal #I just saw someone mention oversharing as being like a bad trait #so I'm sorry if me blogging about my health issues is uncomfortable or feels like oversharing but it helps me #i'll always have these to look back on #I also only have like two people to talk to about this stuff otherwise and I need to really let it all out so I can breathe #but now I'm rethinking if I should've ever started blogging about my health in the first place hnnnn #i really am sorry if they make you uncomfortable so i added a new tag you can blacklist #anyway love you all please stay safe and healthy

[hargrove-mayfields]

so sorry im late asking this (i was waiting for you to get more, super surprised you didn’t get more asks tbh) but could I hear more about your wips “I have a crush on Barbara Holland” “baby fic” and “HOH Steve” also if it’s not too much “girlyfriends” and “cali house” and “medical emergency” ik ik that’s a lot but I’d honestly want hear about ALL of you wips in that list if i could. thank u in advance

It’s alright anon! I’ll accept these asks until I run out of WIPs to talk about!

I have a crush on Barbara Holland- This one is a soulmates au, where Steve has his soulmates initials, B.H., on his wrist, and he is whole heartedly convinced that that person is Barb. He’s very much in love with her, and there’s lots of talk about how pretty and nice she is (hence the title lol) but eventually she reveals that he isn’t her soulmate. Before she had hid the initials on her own wrist under a watch or a chunky bracelet, but she feels guilty, and shows Steve that her mark had long ago faded, because her soulmate passed away when they were in elementary school. Steve decides, despite how much value he used to hold in the whole soulmate thing, he doesn’t care about who some stupid mark says he should be with, so him and Barb date until her death. He’s heart broken, but the sadness very quickly turns into so much anger after Billy Hargrove, another B.H. rolls into town with a little S.H. on his wrist. He feels like the universe or whoever is even in charge of this soulmate bullshit is spiting him for thinking he could fall in love with someone he wasn’t destined to be with, so he rejects Billy for a long, long time, even after he himself figured it out that Steve is his match. When he does start to feel that way about Billy, he struggles with so much guilt and has to go through a very long grieving process to be comfortable with his feelings, because he’s not even sure if they’re his genuine feelings or the work of this soulmate bond. Very long and very angsty.

baby fic- Nancy gets pregnant that first time at the party with Tommy and Carol, and her and Steve try really really hard to make things work out for their baby, but it just isn’t meant to be. They make an arrangement that the Harringtons are very not pleased with, where Nancy has the baby at the Byers house half the time (because let’s be honest I think the Wheelers house is not really a safe place to be raising a baby) and Steve has her the rest of the time. Because it was like, a much more mature breakup without the cheating and the drunken confessions, they’re still pretty close friends. When the upside down starts making an appearance again, they have to try to figure out how to navigate it with this little four month old baby, and that means getting some help involved. Billy shows up at the Byers and instead of a fight, Steve’s all exhausted like oh good, you’re finally here, and gives him the worlds fastest run down of this monster fighting shit with a crying baby on his hip, and like, Billy just can’t say no to him asking him to go into the tunnels while he watches the baby. There is eventual Harringrove after a while, but it’s a slow burn for sure. This is also probably the least serious and least angsty thing I have ever started to write.

HOH Stevie- They’re all in the government hospital getting their post Starcourt once overs, Billy and El of course being rushed into surgery, and Steve’s about to get discharged when he gets addressed by name and just, does not respond at all. The doctor is like hmm, and checks his ears, and they find out he has almost no hearing in his left ear, and only about forty percent in the right. All that head trauma from the Russians and then all of the explosions of the fireworks, it leaves him deaf.

Everyone tries to be supportive, but his dad refuses to let him get hearing aids because he doesn’t believe he actually needs them (Steve’s a diagnosed hypochondriac) so for the next several months while his parents are still home waiting for their next trip, he’s struggling. He basically gets iced out by the party because he just can’t hear anything they’re saying, and the kids get tired of repeating themselves, and Nancy got insulted the one time he told her her voice is too quiet, and Robin wants to do things right for him, but she forgets sometimes, and will ramble on about something without looking at him and everytime he’s like great, I didn’t catch a single word of that, lovely talk though. It’s very frustrating and isolating and nobody seems to want to make accommodations for him.

The very same day that his parents leave for their latest vacation, he goes back to hospital. At first he just has to get more testing done, since it had been upwards of six months since the last time they saw him, and on his way out he notices Max in the waiting room chairs. He hadn’t seen much of her at all since Starcourt, so he checks on her, and at first she tells him to go away, because her friends have said some not so nice things about how much time she spends at the hospital, and assumes Steve is there to tell her Billy isn’t worth it too. Because that’s not the case, he ends up going in the room to visit Billy with her.

They do the small talk, the awkward, sorry about the fact that you’ve been in the hospital for six months now and nobody wants to come see you thing, and at some point Billy realizes that Steve can’t hear a damned thing he’s saying. He tests his theory by saying Steve’s name when he’s not looking and just waiting for him to answer but, surprise he doesn’t because he didn’t hear it at all, and Billy’s just like, you’re deaf aren’t you?

The progression of the fic is basically Steve coming to visit Billy everytime he has an appointment for his hearing (and more, but Bill doesn’t know that) but the day of his last appointment to make sure his hearing aids are functioning as well as they ever will for how bad off his hearing is, Billy’s acting different.

When he’d first walked into his room Billy had been surprisingly bright eyed and bushy-tailed for what he went through, but now he’s just acting all mopey. Max makes him tell Steve what’s wrong, and he confesses that he feels like he’s going to get left behind now that Steve’s all better, because then he has no real reason to visit him anymore. But Steve has one very good reason, and the rest of the story is him making sure Billy knows it.

girlyfriends- This’n’s sort of a non-canon compliant character study about aromantic! Billy, focusing on how awful and uncomfortable he felt with his past girlfriends, messing up dates and never going as far as they wanted him to, which at the time he pinned on liking boys instead, but then after he gets with Steve, he feels like this is different and he likes it, but he’s still not too big on all the lovey dovey, romance stuff. He rationalizes it as like, maybe just being a side effect of him being an asshole or something, but he‘s actually super insecure about how he is in relationships. There is a fluffy resolution though where he embraces his identity, it’s really not all doom and gloom, boo hoo I hate myself stuff.

cali house- Years after Starcourt, the boys have moved to a decent house in California using their government hush hush money, and they’re there for only about a month when Billy’s mother shows up at their door.

She says she caught wind that her son was back in town and wanted to come see him, after all this time. Billy of course lets her back in his life immediately, his mom meant so much to his recovery process and now that she’s here, he can’t turn her away, but Steve’s a little suspicious of her intentions.

He thinks that if she wanted to see Billy, she would’ve done that years ago before he ever even left Cali in the first place, or that you know, she wouldn’t have fucking left him behind. He tries to bring it up with Billy gently, but he won’t hear it, and he feels beyond hurt by the suggestion because he thinks Steve is just jealous that he’s spending time with his mother, who he hasn’t seen for upwards of fifteen years at this point.

They fight and avoid each other for a few days until Billy’s momma admits when he brings it up, over lunch or something saying like, “Steve thought you were using me or something, isn’t that crazy?” and she’s just like “Well, actually...”and tells him that money was tight, and she needed a little extra money, so Billy and his disability checks and his rich (boy)friend seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some.

He goes back home to Steve and expects him to be mad, to rub it in that he was right, but he’s really not, he’s super supportive, and you know, Billy finally realizes he doesn’t need to have this bullshit family thing with his mother, because he already has one, Max and Steve and his friends and all the people that actually care about him.

medical emergency (tw attempted suicide)-

Billy, who’s living on his own in an apartment downtown after Starcourt, deliberately doesn’t get his prescriptions refilled because he’s so done. He’s weak and he’s hurting and he doesn’t feel like himself anymore, and he just feels like he wouldn’t care if his body gave up, if he suffocated in his sleep or had another heart attack. So he doesn’t take care of himself, and when he runs out of oxygen he just doesn’t go get anymore, but he’s halfway to choking on his own blood when he realizes he doesn’t want to die.

He calls Steve, because he’s not calling the cops and he can’t remember anyone’s numbers in his panic, but Steve’s is written on his calendar, scribbled there because they were supposed to make plans for something with the kids. Steve takes him to the hospital, having to fight him to put the CPAP on him to make sure his lungs didn’t collapse before they could get him to Hawkins General, and Billy’s just, so bone tired.

They do all their treatment stuff and get his body back under control, so Steve finally asks him what happened, if maybe he needed someone around to help him remember his meds and stuff, and Billy just, he breaks, like a dam overfilled he just pours out with all of this helplessness and sadness he’d been feeling, how he doesn’t want to live the way he does or at all anymore, and Steve’s heart just breaks for him.

He moves in with him, nobody’s willing to leave him alone after what happened, and Steve (along with Billy getting a new therapist because the old one was incompetent enough to not notice how bad off he was) helps him to realize he has something to live for.

#answered #anonymous #ejs wips #ej writer #yeah theres no such thing as sending it late #if y’all want to ask me just ask me! dont worry about it!

[vannahfanfics]

congrats vannah!!! your lists were amazing and it seems like so much effort, im so proud of you! could i please get aizawa and white please? thank you!

Hey! Thank you so much for requesting for the event, and I’m sorry it took so long! Medical school was very tough for me, so I ended up putting requests on the backburner for a very long time… But finally, it’s here! White symbolizes hospitals, death, and sadness, so… I’m sorry to inflict this upon you, but here’s Aizawa in the wake of the war with the Paranormal Liberation Front. Spoilers for the recent manga chapters!

Drinks on Me

“Hey, this weekend, let’s all go out and get drinks on me!” Nemuri smiled prettily, her long legs crossed as she swiveled back and forth in her chair across from Shota. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been out together. You never know, it could be our last chance!” she grinned while sticking out her tongue and winking playfully. She always said things like that, portents of doom and gloom hidden behind a winning smile, to rope Shota into joining her and Hizashi at clubs and bars. 

He should have regarded those for what they really were— omens. 

Shota jerked awake, snorting as his muscles spasmed. He laid there for a moment as he clumsily acclimated to the waking world, staring blearily at the ceiling fan spinning slowly above his head. When he finally realized that he was in bed, he exhaled deeply and reached up to rub his eyes with the heels of his palms. In the midst of his fitful sleep, he’d kicked the sheets off himself; the layer of nervous sweat on his skin absorbed the cold wind pushed down by the fan, coating him in a chill. Too exhausted to even bother pulling the covers back over himself, he flopped his arm back down to stare listlessly at the ceiling. 

The stump where his leg used to be throbbed painfully, almost as if it were aware he was awake now. He still hadn’t accustomed to the loss of his limb, nor the phantom pains plaguing his nervous system. Even now, he found himself groping for his calf, trying to ease the ache; but he couldn’t massage empty air, so it continued to burn dully, seeping down all the way into his sawed bone. 

Groaning, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, grasping the headboard as he hauled himself up. The rest of his body had endured a beating as well, making pain thrum through his nerves to shoot to his spine. He winced and grasped his shoulder, massaging the inflamed flesh until it quieted. He felt like an old man, much older than he ought to— tired, achy, defeated. He inhaled deeply, gathering the will to put on his prosthetic leg. His muscles tweaked in protest as he did, but as he gradually woke up his body and fastened the prosthetic to the stump below his knee, the pain faded into the background. 

He limped across his room to his closet, stumbling a little and using the dresser to catch himself. He hadn’t mastered navigating with his new leg, either. He took a moment to catch his breath, sweat already blooming on his clammy forehead, before tottering his way to the closet. He couldn’t tolerate dressing normally— not that he had impeccable fashion sense anyway— so he eased himself into a pair of black sweats and a gray tee and some sneakers. He tied his hair in a loose bun before shambling out the door. 

The dorm was alive with activity, but not the normal kind that Shota had become accustomed to. The air hummed with nervous energy as the students— and their parents, who were moving in to keep them safe— flitted about. Most of his pupils still sported injuries from the massive battle several days ago, bandages peeking out from beneath their clothes. But the worst injuries were the ones you couldn’t see, the ones on their hearts still oozing blood and bursting through the stitches at the slightest insult. They would be scars someday, an afterthought until the phantom pains struck when they least expected it. 

Theirs would, but not Shota’s. No, Shota’s inner wounds never really healed— and this newest one definitely would bleed for the rest of his life. 

A few of them greeted Shota quietly as he limped down the hall heading for the front door. Momo came up to him, asking if she could help him with anything— she had always been such a considerate girl, that one. He smiled and ruffled her poofy black hair, telling her that he was quite all right but thanks anyway. Shota could sure use some help, but there was no aid that any of his students could provide for him. He could feel Momo’s watery eyes boring into his back as he toddled out of the building. 

There were so many things that people took for granted every day. The ability to walk down steps without falling flat on your ass was one of them. Shota grimaced as he inched down the steps of the dorm, holding out one arm to seek purchase though there was nothing to grip onto. Somehow, he made it down to the sidewalk without eating shit, but the effort still left sweat beading in the crease lines of his forehead. He blew an irritated breath through his lips and raked his hand over his wavy black hair, taking a moment to let the pain pass before moving on. 

Though this region of the city had been spared the carnage of the war with the Paranormal Liberation Front, its effects reached even the city around U.A. There weren’t nearly as many people on the street; Shota was alone most of his commute to the business district, save for the occasional person rushing down the street with suspicious eyes and fearful breaths. Shota could feel eyes on him everywhere, though; nervous onlookers peering out their curtains and blinds, suspicious of everyone in sight. They were all waiting for the inevitable pin to drop, for the next piece in this godawful chess game to move and tell them their next poor fortune. Things would get worse before they got better; everyone knew it, the hapless civilians most of all. Their hope in heroes was teetering on the edge of a knife; if they strayed but a little, everything would fall into ruin. 

Many small business owners had closed up shop to skip town, but the liquor store was still open. A pleasant bell chimed as Shota opened the door. The cashier apparently still wasn’t getting much business, as he leaned back in a chair with his feet propped up on the counter, reading the newspaper. As Shota began to walk through the aisles searching for a particular brand of rum, the cashier decided that apparently the news was too dismal to read because he crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash bin. 

“Warmongers, the lot of them journalists,” he spat at Shota, who raised his eyebrows at him over the top of the rum bottles he was surveying. “All they’re doin’ is makin’ things worse.” 

“Do you have faith in heroes?” Shota asked and looked back down, fingers skimming over the glass bottles emblazoned with coconut trees and beach zines. He smirked when the old cashier snorted derisively. 

“Sonny, I been around a long time. This ain’t the first time some upstart has whipped everyone up in a frenzy. The heroes always come out on top because that’s what they do.” 

“That’s some unshakable faith you have there,” Shota remarked while plucking his chosen bottle from the rack. He rounded the rack while the cashier hopped up from his chair so he could check Shota out. 

“Eh, it comes with age. Nothing rattles ya anymore,” he shrugged, grabbing the bottle to scan it. He put it in a brown paper bag and punched a few of the keys into the cash register. “O’course, a little liquid courage always helps, eh?” he added with a wink. Shota smirked at that, sliding over his credit card. He took the bottle by the neck, crinkling the paper around it. 

“Thanks for the advice. Do I need to pay you for that too?” Shota joked. 

“Nah, it’s on me this time,” the man responded with a chortle, sliding Shota’s card back. Shota took it and slid it back into his wallet, then bid him a good night. When he walked out, the sun had risen into the sky and was blessing the earth with its warm rays. Yet they didn’t kiss Shota’s skin; a lingering chill wafted around him, blocking out all the warmth to leave him cold. Eventually, he’d feel the sun again, he knew that— but he had a while to go. 

It was a short walk to the graveyard. The iron was hot under his fingers as he pushed the unlocked gate open, and it creaked loudly as if to protest. The small gravel marking the winding, meandering path through the various headstones crunched under his feet as he made his way down, counting the rows. At row seven, he turned and walked down until he found a clean headstone above a freshly-turned patch of dirt, a rectangle the size of a person. 

Sighing, Shota eased himself down onto his knees, his prosthetic leg stretching out beside him— it was easier on his hip that way. He pulled the brown paper bag off the bottle of rum and then broke the faux gold foil seal. He stared down at it a second, just stared, and then exhaled quietly. 

“Hey, Nem,” he murmured. He reached up with his free hand to stroke the top of the stone, which was warmed by the bright spring sun. He fell silent again, throat bobbing as the emotions he’d been surprising for days welled up inside of him. The tears bubbled up and spilled over his eyes, carving through the layer of nightsweat and grime coating his unwashed face to bead in his beard. “I miss you, Nem,” he said finally, voice cracking. “So much.” 

His hand shook as it continued to run over the unblemished stone, down over the carved letters reading Kayama Nemuri. He leaned forward to press his forehead against the rock, closing his eyes and squeezing out more of the salty tears. “I never did take you up on that offer for drinks,” he said with a wan smile despite the despair tearing his heart apart. “So I brought you your favorite, on me.” He leaned back, then lifted the bottle to spill the alcohol over the gravestone. The light gray rock darkened as the clear liquid gushed over it, spilling over the smooth surface in rivers. It streamed down to soak into the grass at its base, soaking up the earth down, down, down to Nemuri’s casket six feet under. Shota didn’t drink a drop of the rum; he poured every bit of it over her gravemarker for her to enjoy. 

He sat there for a while, even after the hot sun had begun to evaporate the alcohol absorbed by the porous stone. Somehow, sitting there watching the color fade back to normal was cathartic. Like Nemuri was there, enjoying that rum. He could see the smile playing over her lips as she stirred a straw around a piña colada— and that’s when Shota felt the kiss of the sun, warming up his skin. He looked up to squint at the bubbling circle in the sky, then back down at the gravestone. Smirking, he patted the slightly damp rock before using it as leverage to push himself up. 

“Thanks, Nem. I’ll be back sometime, with drinks on me, of course,” he chuckled. He couldn’t linger here all day; he had work to do. Some upstart was out there whipping everyone up in a frenzy, and it was up to the heroes to bring him to justice. When they did, Shota would be sure to bring Nemuri a whole liquor store’s worth of rum— on him, of course. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#aizawa shota #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #shota aizawa #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha

[cosmicclownboy]

I don't think saying people who are upset at the current state of Malex don't care about their growth is fair. People want different things out of the couple's they ship and that's okay, although the negative anons should rant at like minded people rather than those who are enjoying what's on screen. I do think though that people over estimate their desire for "happy" couples. You see it all the time in soap fandoms. An angsty couple gets lots of fans, they eventually become an established couple and their drama comes from something else, then the fandom dies down a lot to almost dead. Then some ships have a problem when the angst becomes too much, or too much of the wrong type. That sadly happened with Malex for some, so many people left and so many people who remain have zero trust in the journey. Hopefully those who are negative have more reason to be happy by the end of the season, and hopefully in the meantime they don't harsh on your enjoyment too much!

If I was a bit much I'm sorry it was 2 am where I was after the episode aired and consuming caffeine made me even more exhausted . I genuinely was excited by the episode so it really frustrated me that it was one of the first anons I saw.

I get some people watch this show solely for Malex. I ain't judging I've watched a ton of shitty shows solely for ships. I get that.

I've been in fandoms before and I can't help but notice a pattern with some m/m ships almost always are they pitted against each other by the character fans for some reason. Some people resonate with one more then the other that's fine. Some resonate with both. I don't see the need to shit on one to praise the other. Or strip them of their flaws or play trauma Olympics.

The way Malex are being approached is dealing with the issues first in order to keep them happily together afterwards. We've seen Tyler talk about how he hates how doom and gloom same sex rep is approached and how he wants Malex to be different. We've also had a LGTB writer, Danny said something similar in his CW pride video. There is so much that is untold because of the constant angst fest rep usually.

I know it's disheartening but there was development happening with Malex this episode and it's coming to the head of them leaning on each other and being a team.

#asks

[austerulous-a]

7 & 27 ♡

@jaegeriin // 30 uncommon character development questions // accepting

7. How does your character perceive themselves? Positive? Negative? Neutral?

Generally speaking, Annie’s perception is negative. There is a lot she dislikes and even loathes about herself. She considers herself to be weak, swept up in events, someone too exhausted - too spineless - to even try fighting against the current. Her childhood was spent quietly hoping someone would save her and now, in her adolescence, she understands help will not come. The best she can do is continue on the path laid out for her by her father and her superiors, and be prepared to crush other people under her heels. To put it in Annie’s own words, she’s a self-serving piece of shit.

In a world of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ she views herself firmly as the latter. It has less to do with being a murderer (even after Armin destroys the port at Liberio, she considers him a good person; the same can be said of Bertholdt, despite him having an astronomical body count) and more with who she is at her core. Which is someone wretched, fragile, half-formed; she is self-aware enough to recognise and despise the abnormal, empty spaces within her. Hollowed out as a child, there is little to Annie that is truly, intrinsically ‘her’. Mr. Leonhardt built her, stripping away the parts he had no use for, and using discipline to instil the characteristics that would help make her a Warrior. As such, even traditionally ‘good’ traits like loyalty and compassion are soured within Annie. They are a weakness, and threaten to stand in the way of her promise to her father. A perfect example being her decision to spare Armin during the 57th Exterior Scouting Mission, which later became the rope that hanged her in Stohess.

This isn’t even touching on Annie’s opinions of her physical self. She is uncomfortable in her body and there is a lot about her appearance that she views negatively, but that should probably be a post all of its own.

It isn’t entirely doom and gloom, however. On a good day, Annie thinks of herself in largely neutral terms, and recognises that she did not choose her circumstances. If left to her own devices, she wouldn’t hurt anyone. At least not beyond the occasional harsh word or swift kick to the shin. At heart, she’s just a girl rolling with the punches, trying to find her way home.

27. If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be?

So I’m of the opinion that Annie’s birth parents are both dead. I still can’t shake the image of her mother going to gallows with her aching, postpartum body, and her father being turned into a mindless titan, doomed to die on Paradis, ajsdhudwb. But if she somehow had an opportunity to speak first and final words to them, they would be: “I had no choice.” No choice in being born, and no choice but to become a monster. At the end of the day, they risked and ultimately gave up their lives to have their daughter. They surely didn’t imagine she would be an inheritor of the Female Titan and an instigator of genocide. Was she worth it? Probably not.

As for Mr. Leonhardt, Annie would struggle to express herself even to him, the man who formed her bedrock. There would be a temptation to say sorry, because death is a failure of sorts, but her father was never one to accept apologies or anything less than excellence. Her need for his approval is a terrible thing, she sorely needs him to truly consider her his daughter and not solely his project. For him, her final words would be: “I did my best. I gave it my all.”

#please love your daughter mr. leonhardt #she’s trying so hard #thank you for the ask! ♡ #sorry for the delay in answering #‹ ask › #‹ headcanon › #‹ ooc: puffin speaks › #jaegeriin

[solvnvceae]

GASLIGHTER SENTENCE STARTERS

from the album “gaslighter” by the chicks. feel free to adjust the wording / pronouns / etc. to fit the character and situation.  trigger warnings : gaslighting & cheating/infidelity & fire & (implied) abuse

GASLIGHTER

repeating all of the mistakes of your father

i believed in the promises you made to me

no matter what they gave you, you still wanted more

you’re sorry, but where’s my apology?

you’ll gladly walk away

you think it’s justifiable

i think it’s pretty cruel 

you lie best when you lie to you

save your tired stories for your new someone else 

just had to start a fire 

we know i’m not crazy

you made your bed and your bed caught fire

can you see how you broke me?

SLEEP AT NIGHT

i’m getting past everything

just glad it’s not yesterday

how messed up is that?

it’s so insane that i had to laugh

there’s nothing funny about that

how do you sleep at night?

how do you tell those lies?

you’re only as sick as your secrets

half of the shit you won’t believe

you can love me as long as you don’t love my man

you don’t care what you’re ruining

TEXAS MAN

i could use a texas man

it’s been way too long since somebody’s body was tangled with mine

i’m a little bit unraveled 

everybody wants the new model

if you got the strength i do, then sign me up

i’m not too much for you

i could use a man that’s not afraid to take his time 

he’s gotta have patient hands 

the way to my heart is through my mind

that good kinda’ keepin’ me up all night

EVERYBODY LOVES YOU

i am so tired

i have to tame my mind before i get too frustrated 

can’t go back in time 

i was not something to play with

try not to talk about it

i’m too mad, i’m too late, i’m too gentle

it’s too hard to explain

i’m trying to hate you

i’m trying to forgive you

i don’t want to

why does everybody love you?

i can’t sleep at night unless i lie

i’m so used to my nightmares

it’s okay ‘til it’s not

they don’t know enough about you

they don’t know the things that i do

i regret you

FOR HER

i’m a lover ‘cause i can’t help myself

i’m just someone who cares

be a little bit kinder 

it takes a lot of hard work to get a whole lot stronger

why can’t we be together?

why can’t we love for her?

you’re a fighter, you just don’t know it yet 

MARCH MARCH

i’m an army of one

our youth have to solve our problems 

i’ll follow them

who’s coming with me?

half of you love me, half already hate me

cut the shit, you know your city is sinking

lies are truth and truth is fiction

MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDINGS

there was something different about you

you set off fireworks that evening

i was never safe 

you’d torch me any chance you’d get 

i see a wildfire burning the world that i’ve known

i prefer my own company to yours anytime 

in twenty years, i’ll still be younger than you

i’m better off without your gloom and your doom

i’ve never seen her look more happy

from ashes, we can really grow

TIGHTS ON MY BOAT

i hope you die peacefully in your sleep

i hope it hurts like you hurt me

i hope that when you think of me, you can’t breathe

i hope you never find a sock to match the other one

you’re not fooling anyone

you’re gonna’ get what you got comin’ to ya’

i should’ve known you were trouble

you wouldn’t speak to me for weeks

and now i know why

JULIANNA CALM DOWN

don’t give him the satisfaction that you can’t handle it

breathe, it’ll be okay

strut the fuck around like you’ve got nothing to lose 

show off your best moves 

every time he’d kiss you, you’d tremble 

try to only think about the bad things you remember

what’s going through your head is just a temporary situation

light will soon be shed

you know that you can handle it

don’t let the wolves get the best of you

breathe, you’re gonna make it through

YOUNG MAN

i had no words for you that saturday

we both watched our entire worlds change 

your hero fell just as you came of age

now i know what to say

leave the bad news behind you

i’ve done the best i know how to

after this storm, there’s nothing you can’t navigate

you’ll see it’s the only way

HOPE IT’S SOMETHING GOOD

should i have known?

should i have seen a sign? 

when did you know?

why’d you pretend to try?

i hope it’s really worth it

it all adds up to nothing

we fought our wars with silence 

i’d have called you out, but baby, i knew you’d deny it

i learned to hold my tongue 

SET ME FREE

i’ve been sick from the hurt

you’ve taken enough from me

untangle me from your lifeline 

why not just set me free?

don’t you feel you’re wasting time? 

you have the power to make it right 

if you ever loved me, then will you do this one last thing?

the weight of this hate was exhausting 

still, i’ve let you go 

i’ve seen it with my own eyes 

there’s a good guy in there

#starter meme #sentence starters #the chicks #lyrics starter #sentence meme

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 5 Pt 1

She vaguely remembered someone shaking her before she woke on the couch but no one was there when she opened her eyes. Looking at the clock it was still early, but she could hear the boys rousing.

For the amount she drank she wasn’t as hung over as she thought she would be. She only had some recollection of what happened after Gustaf showed up and she would need to talk with him and apologize at some point. He remembered crying all over him.

She felt this morning wasn’t going to be much better than last night when she squared off with the kids. She had cancelled the camping trip for the twins and now they knew the repercussions of their actions she thought. Lesson learned, a case of tough love.

Brendan was another story. He was in pain, grieving, and his birthday was today. The first birthday after losing his parents. She had to handle it better than yesterday but she still wasn’t going to let him slide on blaming her for it.

She set everything up while he was asleep and had made pancakes and everything for a birthday breakfast. It was something her and her brother would do every year for each other and he had passed that tradition down to his kids. No matter how crappy or angry she felt, she couldn’t deny him that.

“Finn will you go knock on Gustaf’s door and see if he would like to join us for breakfast?” She asked gently.

“Why does he have to be here.” Brendan spat.

“Because I would like him here and I know he cares enough for you, for us to be here.” She glared at the thirteen year old and wondered if he’d live to see thirteen and one day.

They were all on edge still and she’d thought about not having Gustaf here until she remembered he’d bought a present for Brendan. She also needed some adult support and to apologize for last night. Her slight hangover headache, and two thirds of the scotch gone was enough to tell her she’d taken things a little too far, and may have said or done a little too much.

The knock at his door puzzled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He opened the door and looked down.

“Hey Liam. What’s up buddy everything ok?” He bent down so he was at eye level with the six year old.

“I’m Finn.” He grinned.

“Sorry.” Gustaf chuckled. “I’ll get it right someday.”

“Ama said to come over if you want to join us for birthday breakfast. Say yes because she made pancakes.” He grinned. “And they’re really good.”

“Well how can I refuse that?” He said and the kid bear hugged him around the neck.

“You doing ok?” He asked as he one arm hugged the kid. His hand span was as big as the kids chest and didn’t want to crush him.

“Yeah. Ama is really angry.” He said and looked down at his feet. “And me and Liam got into trouble at school so we couldn’t go camping.”

“I heard. Did you apologize?” He asked. “Did you say sorry to Ama?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, Brendans real mad at Ama too.”

He nodded. “Yeah I know but it’ll be ok.”

“Come on pancakes.” Finn said remembering why he came over and tugged at Gustaf’s hand to hurry him along.

“Hang on I have to get keys.” He laughed, the mind of a six year old was amazing. He grabbed Brendans present and Sildies keys too. He had to strategically get them back inside her apartment somehow.

He followed Finn inside and the tension hit him like a wall. He had to tread very carefully here. The kids were around the table and Sildie was in the kitchen.

“Hey.” He said as he walked to her. “Happy birthday Brendan.” He said and placed his gift with the rest.

“Thank you.” Brendan mumbled quietly but he didn’t look at Gustaf.

He could see the murderous look on the kids face. Things weren’t well here at all. Walking on eggshells didn’t come close.

“Have a seat.” Sildie said finding his hand and roughly squeezing tight before letting it go.

A cry of just be here for me, with me, help me, and he would. He weathered the storm with her last night, he would go another round today even though he was exhausted and rung out himself. Seeing her like that last night got to him. The pain in her eyes just now got to him more. She was still drowning.

“Let’s eat. Happy birthday Brendan.” She said as cheerily as she could. She wouldn’t let this be a shitty day because he wanted to sulk. She was trying.

“I’m not hungry.” Brendan said and stared out the window over the top of Lily’s head like his baby sister didn’t exist.

“Ok, well more for us I guess.” Sildie shrugged and Gustaf saw her shoulders slump. She tried to keep it casual but inside she was still feeling much the same as last night before getting drunk. Defeated, wrung out, angry, annoyed, pick one.

They talked as they ate and the brightness started to come back to the room he noticed. All but the black cloud of doom and gloom that hung over the birthday boys head.

He understood. The kid was grieving and it had to be hard to hit the teenage years and know he wasn’t going to have his father their for support. But blaming Sildie for it wasn’t the way to go. Not his place to interject though.

“Everyone done?” Sildie asked before starting to clear the table.

Gustaf got up to help and stayed as silent as the grave.

“Brendan why don’t you open your presents.” She said trying to at least get him to engage. The kid wasn’t having it.

“No thank you.” He snapped in a tone that clearly said fuck you. Even the twins looked at him gobsmacked.

Gustaf almost said something but Sildie beat him to it.

“Ok that’s it!” She snapped back in a rare show of temper throwing the dishes in the sink. The porcelain exploded with the force.

She rounded on him and Gustaf felt a little sorry for the kid who was about to be firmly put in his place, grief or not.

“I’m am done with this Brendan.” She started.

“You two, sit.” She instructed to the twins who had tried to slink away and pointed to their chairs without taking her eyes off Brendan for a second.

Gustaf continued to clear the table.

“I get that it’s your birthday, you’re missing them, you’re grieving, and you think I’m worthless and useless at this but here’s a news flash for you. I miss them too. They were your parents, but he was my brother Brendan, my twin brother. The only family I had left. You’re not the only one grieving.”

“Have you even given a thought to how your brothers might be feeling? No. You just decided that because it’s your birthday you’re the only one that this affects. It doesn’t. It affects all of us.”

“We didn’t have to come to you.” Brendan spat. “We could have gone to grandma. At least she wanted us, but they tossed us to you. You don’t give a shit about us anyway.” He lashed out.

“Brendan.” Gustaf said quietly, seeing the barb hit it’s mark. Sildie was taking blow after blow and it was killing her.

“Don’t speak to her like that.” He kept his voice low and calm. He wouldn’t stay quiet on this one.

The kid to his detriment glared at Gustaf. “You’re not my father, I don’t answer to you.” He spat. “I didn’t want you here anyway.”

“No, I’m not your father, and I’m not trying to be, that’s all between you and Sildie. But you don’t get to talk to anyone like that, especially family. Ever.” He said pointedly and held Brendan’s stare until the kid had to look away. “You can be angry, but you don’t get to disrespect her.”

Especially when that family member has given up everything to make sure you’re taken care of Gustaf added silently.

Brendan was about to say something, along the lines of go fuck yourself, Gustaf thought by the look on his face when he could see something inside Sildie snap. He watched as that calm rage settled over her.

“Sit down a moment.” She said quietly to Gustaf. “Please.”

He could see and hear the seething cold fury boiling within her.

“No, Brendan, you sit down too, I’m not done.” She pinned him to the spot with a glare as he went to get up.

She went to her room and the silence dragged on. She returned with three envelopes.

“As you are so adamant of blaming me for everything I’m going to clear the air for you once and for all.” She opened the first envelope and handed Brendan a letter.

“Read it, out loud so your brothers can hear it.” Her tone was calm ice cold fury.

He stared at her.

“You want jump to conclusions, spout off that you know it all, well you only have half of the story. So now you have the truth, it’s in your hand. Now read it.”

“He doesn’t need to be here.” He said glaring at Gustaf.

“Well that’s too bad for you because this is my house. Read. It.” She said and she felt Gustaf brush his fingers against hers out of sight as they gripped the table. He could tell she was only just holding it together.

“I don’t want him here.” Brendan snapped.

”Sildie it’s ok I’ll go.” And he went to rise. He wasn’t going to cause her any further issue. The situation was bad enough.

“No.” She said in that quiet tone that all women had and her hand rested on his shoulder so lightly he could only just feel it. “Brendan forgets that this is my house, not his. You’re my guest. I’d like you to stay but understand if you don’t want to get in the middle of this anymore than you already are.” She looked at him now and her eyes spoke volumes and screamed please don’t leave me too.

He nodded and sat, he couldn’t leave her. For a split second he would have preferred her drunk again like last night as opposed to this. He understood now why she put the apartment door between her and the kids yesterday. If he gave her anymore lip she would go nuclear.

She turned her stare on Brendan. “Read. It.”

Brendan toyed with the paper not sure what he should do There was a long silence and then he began to read the last will and testament of his parents.

“Now, skip to section six.” She said, the lawyer in her surfacing just enough to keep her in control. “And read through to six dot seven.”

Damn Gustaf thought what he wouldn’t give to see her in court.

He read aloud the care of minor children section. Gustaf saw his bottom lip tremble as he read that it was his parents wish they they stay with Sildie. He choked up when he read why they couldn’t be with grandma.

Sildie tossed the second envelope on the table and it slid to him.

“That is the documentation and restraining orders stating the four of you will NEVER live with or be alone with her or Dana’s family. She cut ties with them for a reason.” Sildie said still riding on fury.

She pulled out a letter from the third envelope and hesitated. Gustaf noticed she treated this one with care. She handed it to Brendan.

“This is the last letter your parents wrote to me. Read it out loud please.” She said and her voice was choked but more gentle than before.

Brendan stared at it for a moment, looked at Sildie and then took a drink of water. His hands were shaking as he took the letter from her. He began to read and Gustaf understood why it choked Sildie up.

Her brother Quinn had laid out in detail everything he wanted her to do. Right down to making sure birthday pancakes were a thing and the recipe was in there too. Brendan was crying silent tears by the time he was finished.

Sildie calmly took the letters from him and placed them in their envelopes.

“I’m doing the best I can Brendan.” She said softly, the rage had passed, her temper had settled. Gustaf’s fingers still stroked the back of hers gripping the table. Her only tether keeping her in check.

“But you can’t keep blaming me for something I had no control over. You’re right, I never wanted kids, perfectly happy without them. That was no secret. But I promised my brother, your father, that if anything ever happened to him or your mother I would make sure you stayed safe, you were cared for, loved.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t want you, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It means I need time to get used to the fact I went from being single to being a single parent with four kids overnight. I didn’t have the time to ease into it one or two at a time. I didn’t have the years in between each of you guys to adjust. I’m doing the best I can with what I have, and the situation that was thrown at me.”

“May I be excused.” He asked quietly, he didn’t look at anyone.

“Of course.” She said knowing she’d got her point across. She squeezed his shoulder as he passed and Brendan went to his room shutting the door with a quiet snick.

The twins got up, came around and gave Sildie a big hug.

“Go play quietly in your room ok? Let things calm down for a bit.” She said and they did as she asked.

Lily was content making herself a hot mess in her high chair so Sildie left her for the moment. Once she heard the twins door close she let out a shuddered breath. She let go of the death grip she had on the edge of the table and sat down slowly. It wasn’t lost on Gustaf he was observant enough to notice. She was on the verge of completely crumbling like last night.

“I’m sorry.” She said calmly. “I’m so sorry you had to be here for that but I don’t think I could have made it through without you.” Her voice shaking with emotion and adrenaline.

Gustaf tucked the stray hair behind her ear. She was still too wound up to talk to, he was still processing it all.

“It’s fine.”

She shook her head. “No it’s not. That was some pretty heavy shit.”

“Sildie look at me.” He murmured. “Please.” He asked as her gaze fell to her hands.

His finger stroked her jaw and he turned her head to see those ice blue eyes.

“I said I’d always be here for you and I will be. You just have to call.” He smiled slightly at her. “And you did. You sent a slightly over excited six year old who wanted me to come have pancakes, and to hurry my ass up.” That got a laugh from her.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked gently and she nodded.

He let her have the silence while he got the kettle on and started rinsing the dishes, pulling out the broken ones.

“Leave it, I’ll sort it out in a moment.” She said wearily.

“I’ve got it.” He said and placed a clean pair of cups on the table and clearing the rest of the dishes. “Sildie, I’ve got it. Please sit.” He put a hand on her shoulder gently and made sure she stayed seated, kissing her on the top of the head he collected more dishes. He was waiting for her to break.

He rinsed and stacked the unbroken dishes in the dishwasher while the tea steeped. She needed space to collect herself before he talked to her.

Lily started to fuss and she got up and took her to get her cleaned up. That would level her out he thought. He sat and poured the tea as she came out with a clean and gurgling baby.

She sat Lily in her play pen and breathed out. “I’m sorry.” She said again and busied herself in the kitchen. She wouldn’t sit now he thought.

“Sildie.” He said and she looked at him. “Enough now, it’s fine.” She nodded.

She busied herself with meaningless tasks to keep her fingers busy. If she kept busy she wouldn’t crumble. If she crumbled she would blubber all over him again.

He placed the tea on the counter, determined to get her to relax but she needed to be busy. He knew what that was like he was the same way.

“I’m sorry about your brother.” He said quietly.

“He would have liked you.” She said softly.

He understood so much now. Why she didn’t celebrate her birthday. The reason the kids call her Ama instead of mama. It all fit.

“Sildie.” He said gently as her hand shook.

She braced herself against the counter and willed the tears to stay away but they were persistent. She felt him stand beside her. Those strong fingers rest on hers.

“Let it out.” He whispered and pried her fingers from the sink edge, pulling her to him.

He rested her hand on his chest and the sob escaped before she could swallow it. His hand cupped her behind the neck and he pulled her to him. She broke, her whole being broke. She stood there head against his chest and let the sobs consume her.

He held her there with a hand at her neck and back. He kissed her head and breathed her in. There was nothing he could do to help, except this. Being there when she needed it most.

Out of the corner of his eye Gustaf saw Brendan standing in the doorway watching. He shook his head and mouthed a five minutes ok and the kid nodded understanding and went back to his room. He was looking to apologize but she needed a moment to purge her system.

She fisted her hand in his shirt and wrapped her other around him and held on. She felt like she’d drown if she let go of him. Eventually she calmed as she felt she’d run out of tears.

“Sildie.” He murmured. His voice that low seductive tone she loved.

“I’m ok.” She mumbled into his shirt and pressed her to him harder in a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I think I messed up your shirt.” She added.

“It’s ok I have plenty more.” He whispered and kissed her temple. It would match the suit jacked that still lay crumpled on his gym floor from last night.

She felt another set of hands wrap around her and realized it was Brendan from the height.

“I’m sorry Ama.” Brendan said with tears as he hugged her tightly against her back.

Gustaf wrapped his arm around Brendan and sandwiched Sildie between them. She tapped his chest lightly to get him to loosen his grip on her and turned in his arms until she could wrap hers around Brendan.

“I love you guys you know.” She said softly. “I’m not as good at this as your parents but I’m trying B. There’s only one of me.”

“I love you too.” He said softly and looked at Gustaf giving him a slight smile. “I’m sorry.” He said softly to Gustaf.

Gustaf has to give the kid props for sucking it up and apologizing.

“How about we start the day again?” He asked Brendan.

His forehead crinkled not completely understanding. “What do you mean?”

“Well it’s your birthday right?” And Brendan nodded. “Why don’t we watch you’re favorite movie, all pile on the couch and start the day again. Clean slate.”

“I like that idea.” Sildie murmured.

“Me too.” Brendan grinned at Gustaf.

“Go get the twins.” Gustaf said and Brendan shot off with a renewed energy.

“You’re so good with him.” She said softly. “With all of them.” His hand at her hip pulled her back against him.

“Practice, though not much with twins.” He smiled against her hair and liked the feel of her like this. “But I think you have that covered pretty well.”

She nodded. She didn’t want to move. He still had his hands on her hip.

“Fresh tea?” He asked as the twins came in and he removed his hands. He wanted it to be her call when she told the kids.

“Yes Please. I’m going to go throw some water on my face.” And she hurried to her room.

The touch of him made her melt. She knew it was for comfort and compassion but the feel of him against her set her body alight. She still craved him, wanted him, and had this shit not happened this week it may have happened after their dinner that they were no longer having.

“Well that’s a pisser.” She mumbled to herself.

She came out to three boys lined up and waiting. She looked at them and then Gustaf who had a smirk on his face and simply sat at the table. All three boys walked to her and wrapped themselves around her in a big bear hug. There were no need for words. She felt the love wash over her.

“Can we start again?” Asked Brendan.

“I think that would be a great idea. Happy birthday Brendan.” Sildie said and hugged him tightly the twins jumped around with excitement.

“Ewww no kisses.” Brendan joke as she tried to give him one.

Gustaf smiled, the kid will think differently about that in a few years he thought.

“Movie time.” She asked. “Our birthday tradition starting now. Movie after breakfast.”

The twins pulled Gustaf to the couch and piled on top of him while Brendan searched for his favorite kid friendly movie. Shrek, and oldie but a goodie. Sildie brought Lily’s playpen over so she could play and watch. She grabbed the tea and sat the two cups on the coffee table before sitting on the arm of the chair next to Gustaf.

Finn who was the quieter of the twins had curled up next to Gustaf. A good sign she thought. Apart from the outburst this morning they all seemed to like him and got on well.

With one twin, who he was pretty sure was Finn, curled into him he couldn’t pull Sildie into his lap easily or discreetly. For the moment he had to be content with resting his elbow on the arm of the chair and letting his fingers lazily dance over her back. He’d held her again today which had him itching to touch her more. The day was young. Their dinner plans may have been ruined but he was spending the day with her and the kids, all was not lost.

They decided on a second movie and then thought why not do the entire series of Shrek. Lily was starting to fuss so Gustaf popped her on his lap and the little lady was happy to be with him.

“Can we have popcorn Ama?” Liam asked.

“Sure.” She said as she put the kettle on for another tea.

She watched as Gustaf took Lily to her room to change her. He definitely wanted to be here with them she thought.

Brendan came into the kitchen to help.

“Nope birthday boy gets a pass on kitchen duty.” She said chuckling at his pout. “Go open your presents.” She said and kissed his head. He was getting so tall she thought, just like his father did.

Gustaf came out with a tired baby. She was fussing and Sildie had to take her. She heated up a bottle and stood at the counter to watch Brendan while she fed Lily. Gustaf stood behind the counter with her and rested his hand at the small of her back. Discreet. He needed to touch her, his body yearned for hers.

Brendan shot out of his seat when he opened Sildies present.

“No way?! You’re letting me go?” He asked. “For reals?”

She nodded and he hugged her, baby sister and all. She would go without anything luxury for a few months but she’d squirreled away enough for hockey camp.

“I couldn’t tell you because it was a surprise.”

“Where are you going?” Gustaf asked clearly not in the loop.

“Goalie Hockey camp with the Swedish Olympic team.” He said and that smile would be there for months, she thought.

He was speechless when he opened Gustaf’s gift. A hockey mask, a personalized hockey mask. He placed it on the table and tackled Gustaf in a huge hug.

“Look at the back plate.” He murmured as the boy went to sit back down.

He watched as his face took everything in.

“Where did you get this?” Brendan asked Gustaf.

“I had it made for you.” He said.

Brendan looked at Sildie.

“Gustaf asked and I took your favorite from your sketch book.” She said softly and sipped her tea.

“I can get the drawing back for you.” Gustaf added.

He watched as the boys fingers traced the design. It ran over his parents names, the Swedish and Irish flags, and a part Viking part Celtic design that was out of the boys own head.

“If you don’t like it I ca...”

“I love it.” Brendan said softly. “Thank you.”

“They’re always with you.” He said softly and Brendan nodded.

“Now they’ll get to skate with me too.”

With Lily asleep in her arms she went to put her down for a nap but Gustaf wrapped his hand around her hip.

“Stay a moment.” He whispered in that low tone that made her a hot mess. His breath tickled her skin and she had to reign in the shudder that wanted to race down her spine.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He said as the boys helped Brendan clear the table and put his presents in his room.

“I have to put her down and make popcorn.” She said and her voice was far from steady.

“I like you Sildie. That hasn’t changed. Even with what happened last night and today.” He whispered and stepped back as the kids came into the room and started to mill around the kitchen. “That hasn’t changed.” He repeated and he was going to make damn sure she knew it.

She put Lily down for a nap and couldn’t help but sigh out at the memory of his touch. She wanted him. The seduction game he was playing was driving her crazy.

She came back into the kitchen to find Brendan had started the popcorn and the twins had set up the next movie.

She sent Brendan to the couch and followed, squeezing in next to Gustaf with the popcorn. Brendan had curled up on the other end with the twins.

Gustaf waited until all eyes were on the movie before slipping an arm around Sildie and pulling her gently to rest against him. He kissed her temple and felt her quiver.

“We need to reschedule our dinner.” He whispered letting his lips brush her ear. “If you still want to come to dinner with me?” He added.

“I do.” She whispered. “I need a babysitter.”

“I’ve got that covered.”

“For the twins as well? We could go to dinner in a few weeks when Brendans at hockey camp. Unless I can wrangle a sleepover for them.”

“That works.”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“Next door. You’ll be close to them and I want you alone.” He murmured and felt his words ripple over her. “All night.” He added and heard her swallow the moan.

He continued to seduce her while keeping a close eye on the three boys tucked together at the other end of the couch. The movie finished and she slowly sat up and Gustaf didn’t hold her back. He knew they had to be careful.

They ate lunch and had cake. The boys would be a little sugar high but it wouldn’t be too bad. She saw him watching her, those eyes seducing her from a distance. Shit she thought how the fuck was she going to hold out for three weeks without going crazy.

Half way through the third movie Lily woke from her nap and was grumpy. Gustaf put the kettle on to boil, bottle into heat, while she saw to the baby. She came in with Lily all changed but the poor little lady was teething, her cheeks bright red.

“Aww Lily bear you’re not having a fun time are you love.” Gustaf said softly as Sildie stood waiting for the timer to go off for her bottle.

“Thank you.” She said and smiled at him for the bottle he had already started heating.

Lily was rubbing a fist to her mouth then eyes and was just miserable. Gustaf stroked a finger down her arm and that little fist shot out and grabbed him.

“She’s got you now.” Sildie chuckled.

“Yes she does. Want me to take her?” He asked.

“Not sure if she’ll go to you this grumpy but...” Gustaf held out his hands and looked at Lily and she almost fell into his waiting hands.

“Well I guess that answered that.” She laughed.

Gustaf sat with Lily in his arms and fed her while Sildie finished the tea. She sat with him and she fidgeted her hands in her lap.

“Out with it.” He murmured and smiled at her when she locked eyes with him. He could read her like an open book now.

“I’m sorry about last night.” She said quietly as she watched the boys. He shook his head. “With everything that happened I forgot that you were back. Had I remembered I wouldn’t have been smashed off my face when you came for tea.”

He put up his hand to stop her but she gently took it in hers and rested it on the table out of view from the boys.

“Please let me finish.” She pleaded with him and he yielded at the look in those eyes.

“I know you say it’s ok and shrug it off but last night and this morning was far from ok.”

Her hand was shaking as it gripped his and she was sure he would be done with her, with them, after this. She couldn’t blame him.

“We have a lot of baggage Gustaf. We’re still working through of it and I can’t guarantee days like today and yesterday won’t happen again. I’ll understand if you want to peace out from us for a while, or permanently.” Her voice cracked as she forced the words out.

He’d thought about it after last night. That would be the easy thing to do. Technically they weren’t his problem. None of this was. But relationships didn’t work that way if they were to last, even friendships. You had to take the rough and tumble to get to the true friendship that lasted. She, he realized, was that for him.

“And what sort of friend would that make me if I left now?” He asked gently.

“I’m just giving you an opt out if you need it. It would be understandable.” He squeezed her hand and pulled it away as one of the twins walked past to the bathroom.

“What do you think Lily?” He asked the baby and to Lily’s credit the kid turned, and grabbed onto him with both arms. “Looks like I’m staying.”

“I’m serious.” She said and he could tell his usual joking manner had annoyed her.

“So am I.” He said gently but all the humor was gone. “Do you remember anything about last night?” He asked and watched her. What you did, how you kissed me, he wanted to say but didn’t.

“To be honest I don’t remember much after you got there. Just that you were there and made sure I was safe, the kids were safe. I didn’t say or do something stupid did I?” Her heart plummeted. Shit she didn’t say she loved him or something did she? Or kiss him, oh shit, did she kiss him?

“No you didn’t say or do anything stupid.” He smiled. “Even if you did we’ve all been there. You went into a lot more detail about your brother and the kids, this whole messed up situation. Sildie if I didn’t want to be here I wouldn’t and I remember telling you once if you need me to call me. Next time call me before it gets too much.”

“Sorry, still getting used to the fact I have someone I can call.”

He leaned in closer and brushed his lips along her jaw as he watched Finn take his seat, totally oblivious to the two of them.

“You scared me last night.” He whispered and kissed her temple letting the tenseness leave him. She was ok now, so he could let his guard down too.

“I’m sorry.” Her breathing had become erratic at his touch.

“Call me next time ok? Please.” He kissed her again and lingered. “I can’t bear seeing you like that again.” His voice choked and he stood to get Lily’s bottle from the counter squeezing her shoulder gently. He wasn’t angry with her, she’d just scared him half way to an early grave.

“And you little miss, are smelly. And not in a nice way.” He said that humor back almost instantly like a shield around his heart and she squealed at him.

#all the feels #gustaf skarsgard #Shattered Lives Ch 5 Pt 1

[the-irish-mayhem]

Okay so I just realized reasons that makes me really hate the Marvel killing characters for cheap shock value. One, it's for cheap shock value. Two, we are not given any time to mourn or come to terms with the deaths, it's all onto the next explosion. Three, since so many people have fake deaths/come back from death, I'm left in a cycle of waiting/hoping for my favs to come because it MIGHT happen. Four, it's always my favs that stay dead. Five, it is rarely if ever necessary for plot.

Another reason I hate the marvel deaths is this isn't the shit I signed up for? I started Marvel because they were fun and exciting and sure you worried but in the end you knew none of the main characters would die. Plus it really feels lile they're killing off people because they don't want to deal with them anymore and it feels like a big FU to the people who loved those characters.

Sorry about the anonymous ranting. Marvel got me through some tough times so to see what it's become is just devastating to me.

Of the deaths they had in this movie, I actually thought they weren’t as much for cheap shock value as it just showed a.... lack of imagination, I suppose. Plot-wise and emotional trauma-wise, yeah. I get why they chose to kill Nat and Tony. They didn’t want the team coming out unscathed because that would undoubtedly create “unrealistic!” cries from the fanboys, and as a storyteller you want to create stakes so that your audience gets invested; for this movie, everyone went in nervous about who was going to die. But I think it kind of goes to show a larger pattern in movies as a whole that the threat of death is becoming the go-to for audience investment in the stakes of the plot. I wish we could reframe it somehow so that the stakes could be something a little less doom and gloom.

Oh yeah, the “bringing people back to life” has absolutely fucked up my ability to properly mourn things in movies. Like, in Infinity War, I never really got sad about the people who died because I was like “they’re literally all gonna be brought back anyway.” And they killed my boy Heimdall and I never got to properly feel sad for him!!

The “not the shit you signed up for” gets me too, because these movies are supposed to be ultimately, as you said, fun and exciting. It sucks a lot of joy out of the viewing experience when you try to not get attached to too many characters because they might die. It’s a strange kind of exhaustion, in a way. And if you do get attached and they die, it’s like losing a friend.

Rant away, my friend. As you can see from my blog title, I am no stranger to rants, nor do I discourage others from ranting. When something can be as frustrating as Marvel, it’s therapeutic to get it all out there.

Ultimately, these characters are stories. They aren’t dead because there’s probably another comic coming out with them in it next month. There’s going to be at least a few fanfics written starring them. With the MCU deaths, it’s like.... those characters are now being released to the fans from their canon obligations. This is how I’ve been coping with both Natasha’s death. She’s not gone. I’m still in the middle of writing my version of her origin story. Dozens, hundreds of authors out there have her in their sights, and there’s going to be so much Natasha content in the wake of this. It’s the same with Tony. You bet there’s gonna be hundreds of Endgame fix-its just waiting to fill the void canon left behind, where he lives out the rest of his days in his cabin with Pepper, raising Morgan and having Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey come visit. Sure, those things didn’t happen in the MCU, but since it’s fiction, well. How can we say it never did?

#molly answers yo asks #endgame spoilers #spoilers #endgame #spoilers for natasha's arc #spoilers for tony's arc #i'm still trying to cope with it all ya feel #Anonymous

[the-dbh-enthusiasts-blog]

I Wish It Was Quiet

Characters: Gavin Reed, Officer Fowler

Pairing: Gavin x Reader

Warnings: angst?, overstimulation, mild swearing.

Word count: 1,100+

Summary: You'd decided you could handle taking on two of the biggest cases at the DPD at once. This has left you with very little sleep. In your sleep deprived state you begint to get overwhelmed.

You stared down at your nearly empty mug of coffee, the swirling brown liquid was translucent enough for you to see a few stray coffee grounds sitting at the bottom. This liquid stimulant was the only thing keeping your heavy eyelids from shutting. The DPD was eerily quiet right now but it wouldn't be for long, after the peaceful early morning passes the office would continue it's normal hustle and bustle as usual.

You reflected, tilting your coffee mug and watching the grounds skid across the bottom. You worked on deviant cases with your case partner Gavin but for the past week you'd also taken up work on the Red Ice cases as well. That means that for the past 7 days you'd work on the deviant files for you're entire workday and then go home to review the Red Ice ones, sometimes even going out on late night calls. The demanding schedule left very little time to pursue your personal hobbies, much less so for sleep.

If you were being truly honest with yourself, it wasn't healthy. Not even longtime officers took up more than one main case at once. It's not like you had to take the extra work, it was just that you couldn't tell people no. Being new at the DPD made you want so much to be helpful, to start off on the right foot with everybody. So when officers asked for assistance you would pleasantly oblige.

So here you were, at work, staring quietly into a cup of mediocre coffee, waiting for Gavin to come in so you could start another week of endless busywork.

Gavin was late. It wasn't totally uncommon for Gavin to show up about half an hour late to the DPD but today it was especially annoying, as you didn't want any unfinished assignments today to spill over into what little time you'd set aside for sleep, something that had become rare recently.

"Ey (y/n)! What's with the doom and gloom today?" Gavin inquired in his normal cocky tone. He walking past you and took a seat at the desk across from yours. "Oh, Gavin how delightful for you to grace us with your presence." You retorted, still gazing into your now cold coffee. "Well I don't know how you'd make it through today without my witty commentary, so here I am" he replied without missing a beat. "Hey I'm about to grab a cup of coffee, you coming too?" He said gesturing at your mug. You nodded, looking up at him for the first time. "Yikes, you're not looking to hot." He remarked, already standing up. "Geez, you really know how to make a girl feel pretty, Gavin." You said, getting up as well to walk alongside him to the lounge. You took your seat at the table as Gavin turned on the coffee maker and took his seat next to you.

"Seriously though, are you sick or something?" Gavin asked, looking you over. "If I was sick I wouldn't be at work." You answered bitterly, rubbing your heavy eyes. In the last few minutes you'd managed to allocate a pounding headache as people began to trickle in.

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds and Gavin scratched at his jacket cuff, a little nervous tic he had. "Hey I know you've been taking up extra work with the Red Ice task force but if you need to-" You stopped listenin. The dull thud in your forehead grew. You stared down at the table.

Everything was just so loud. The coffee machine sputtering, the steady pour of people chattering, the beeping of police service Android's in their charging docks, the cieling fan whirring, Gavin talking. Everything was just so overwhelming. You wanted everything to be quiet.

Tears gathered involuntarily at the corners of your eyes. It was irritating nothing could be quiet. It was easy to lose your mind in how chaotic the department became after the early mornings had passed. It didn't bother you most days but today it was piled on top of sleep deprivation and shit coffee. The tears that had been gathering finally spilled over the edge of your eyes. Everything just needed to be quiet.

"Hey Gavin" you blurted out shakily, cutting him off. "Actually I do think I'm sick. I- I need to go." You were already out of your chair, headed to the girls bathroom. You dare not lift your head to let Gavin see the few stray tears that rolled down your cheek. He'd never let you live it down.

The bathroom door slid shut, letting out a small thump before the quiet enveloped you. You rushed to the sink and leaned over it, wiping tears away from the back your hand. The sound of the dripping faucet bounced around the linoleum walls.

The quiet of the bathroom was interrupted by the squeaking of the door as it opened and then the light thud when it shut. You stayed hunched over the sink.

"Y/n?" Questioned an all-too-familiar voice. "This is the girls bathroom, Gavin." You lamented, again wiping away moisture from your eyes with a little sniffle. For a few moments the bathroom was silent. "Are you crying?" He inquired softly. This was it, Gavin would never let this go. You braced yourself for a barrage of jokes. "Hey, hey." He placed his hand on your shoulder, concern laced in his voice. You looked up at him. This was the first time you've ever seen the cocky asshole facade drop, Gavin's expression was softened and genuine. "What happened back there?"

You gulped, an attempt to steady your voice before replying. "It was just too loud, that's all." "Too loud?" He asked, confused. "Yes, Gavin! That's what I said!" You barked back. Gavin didn't reply, letting the silence hang in the air.

"I'm sorry it's just.." you sighed "I'm so tired, so exhausted. I'm so hyperaware of everything but I can't focus on anything and the more time I spend not focusing is less time I'll have to actually sleep, and it's not even guaranteed that I'll even get sleep tonight I just... " Gavin hushed you, again with his softer voice. "You need a break. I can work on what cases we've got. You need to go home." He coaxed. You sighed, "Being new means I'm already not on good terms with Fowler, if I sign out in the middle of the day to take a nap I'll be in his office tomorrow morning getting ripped for leaving." Gavin rolled his eyes, "Fowler can kiss my ass! I'll make it clear to him just how much he's putting you through, letting you work two major investigations at once!" His voice fading back to it's normal tone.

Another moment of silence. "Thank you, Gavin." The words echoed off the bathroom walls. You slid past Gavin reaching for the door handle. Gavin grabbed your hand "Take care of yourself." He gave your hand a tiny squeeze. You nodded back at him. He let your hand go as you exited.

You started walking to the front desks, ready to sign yourself out. Behind you the door to the girls bathroom opened. Before the door slid shut you heard a woman officer exclaim "Gavin Reed!"

Notes: I do my best writing when im in a manic state at four in the morning so here you go. I've already got the story for a PT 2. in my mind so expect that soon. Please alert me if there are spelling/grammar mistakes.

#dbh #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfiction #detroit:become human #detroit: bh #detroit become human #dbh fluff #dbh gavin #dbh gavin reed #dbh reader #gavin x reader #dbh hc #dbh headcanon #dbh headcanons

[mind-the-margin]

That Night

This year has been a bit of a brutal awakening for me. Up until now, I’ve kind of bumbled through life, tripping over my own feet and keeping quiet and getting the fuck on with all the hard shit. I was woken, rather rudely in May.

Now, I’ll warn you that there’s quite a bit of doom and gloom, although maybe not as much death as I would have liked. My humour is dark to reflect the utter void that exists in place of soul but hey ho!

I don’t quite know where I should begin so I’ll just start somewhere in the middle and fumble around in the dark- as I am used to.

On 25 May 2018 at approximately 11pm I consumed 100 aspirin tablets. I wasn’t thinking straight but the only conviction I had was that I did not wish to live. I did not want to live. That wasn’t the first instance that I had planned my death, but it was the first time I had actually gone through with it. To be honest, some part of me must have realised that it wouldn’t be my only attempt because I had bought a shit load of other drugs as well. (All perfectly legal I feel I must stress.)

This story is equally about my first and most pathetic love as it is about me. See, I told this person, let’s call him Bob, at about 12am that I had overdosed and that I was dying. Bob decided he was tired of hearing about death, so he simply turned off his phone and went to sleep.

My naivety coupled with my unconditional love for Bob led me to the belief that he was maybe driving to come see me. That he was so desperately worried for me that he loved me, and he would show it. Poor Alisha, I was so horribly wrong.

At around 2am I realised that I was dying. My ears were ringing so loud it felt like they were weeping blood. My eyes were weeping themselves and I had thrown up a little. I remember that the last time I ate was a Kinder Bueno- what a beautiful last taste. Months later, I cannot bear to eat the chocolate without feeling nauseous, although this may also be attributed to the fact that it was mine and Bob’s “thing”.

Fuck Bob- I feel that it is important to stress how much I wish I could hate him for that night.

My head was spinning both clockwise and anti-clockwise. I could not stand up straight. I don’t know how but I made it down the hallway and knocked on my friend’s door. She opened up and asked me what was wrong, I was trembling from head to toe. I thrust the empty pill bottle into her hands. She asked me what was wrong, I told her I had taken the whole bottle.

I remember crying on her floor, realising that death was ugly and that I didn’t want to go out this way. I remember feeling so hopeless and so so lost. I was so lost. Overwhelmingly so. I had my phone clutched by me, so sure he would call or text or do something, anything.

I don’t remember much but I remember how much the silence twisted uncomfortably in my stomach like the jagged edge of a dagger.

We got to the hospital at around 3am, all thanks to A and none to the two ambulances that never arrived. I remember I needed shoes and F got them from my room but in my daze I was only fixated on wanting my trainers. What a strange thing to be focused on when your insides are screaming at the havoc you’ve wrought, when you’re dying.

We were sat in A&E for ages. I threw up a lot. Sorry to both A and F who had to witness that and the countless strangers in the waiting area. I remember seeing an emergency doctor and she kept asking me what happened. My mind was so convoluted, I could understand her but it was like I had forgotten how to speak. I had been on the verge of passing out for about an hour and I was focusing on staying awake.

They took my bloods and my blood sugar, and I was fed some anti-nausea medicine through a drip. I was taken to the recess area where several doctors monitored me, I had 32 grams of aspirin in my bloodstream. It was 6am I think, when F left. I was so tired but I couldn’t sleep and I was so exhausted after being grilled by everyone.

I texted Bob, I told him it would be best if we broke up. I was still in the danger-zone. The full extent of the danger I was in was probably best realised by my friends. I was still texting and acting normal, even when they did not know whether I would live, or whether my organs would fail, or my heart would give up or I would internally bleed.

Sometimes, I wish I had given my phone to A so she could’ve explained it all to Bob in a way he would have realised the gravity of the situation.

He didn’t come. I begged him and still he didn’t come. He didn’t call. He aired all of my calls. I think the girl he claimed to have loved died that night. I died that night. Even afterwards, when his excuses had ran out he did not come.

He said a lot of things in anger, things I do not know why I had already forgiven him for. I was in the hospital for 5 days. I missed him, I couldn’t sleep and I cried at night when I thought the nurses were not watching me. Everyone in the hospital was awfully nice to me, I guess they all knew why I was there. It felt like there was this constant itch I couldn’t scratch, but in some ways it was nice.

Amna stayed with me until Sunday night I think, until the doctors were sure I was out of danger. I was very much out of it for the first 3 days or so. I remember waking up really groggy and seeing my friends at the foot of my bed. The doctors had tried to convince me to tell my parents but I was adamant they couldn’t know. They still don’t know.

This is the worst secret I have had to keep.

My friends called, the few that I had told. And some came to see me. I was very weak and just tired of life. I felt grimy holed up in that hospital. The irony doesn’t escape me.

I went home after having had a psych evaluation. The Crisis team had arranged to meet me very few days to make sure I wouldn’t try offing myself again. I was on bed rest for a week but it only lasted a few days before my impatience and the monotony made me feel insane.

I never know how to end whenever I tell people about this. People tend to ask, “do you regret it?” or want me to express my newfound desire to live. I’d be lying if I said either of those things, and I often lie so people would just leave me alone. The truth is that recovery is not that simple and healing is not pretty. It’s not scented candles and journal entries. It’s more like burning pictures of Bob (this only happened once but I kind of want to redo it since I think he deserves worse). It’s crying at 3am and being unable to sleep; it’s antidepressants that make you numb as fuck; it’s breaking down when you remember that night again and again; it’s feeling so fucking lost, like you’ve lost everything.

I lost a lot of people, my first love being one of those. But the person who cared most is the one that left the biggest loss, me. I lost myself and I don’t know whether I’ve even managed to gather all my pieces and tape them together yet, but I know that there so many pieces that are missing.

I’ve been getting bad again lately. And fake friends don’t really help so I cut everyone off and deactivated a lot of my social media. But you know what? As much as I am afraid of never completing myself, of never recovering fully. I know that I’m the most important person in my life. And I don’t need people like Bob to have my back because those kinds of people are only ever invested in themselves and all they do is take and take.

All I’ve done for the longest time is give and give and give until my rivers run dry and I am left to die thirsty. I am done giving. I am done crossing oceans for people who would not even cross a puddle for me.

#personal #me #suicide #tw: sucide mention #depression #my 2018