#But I understand i'm in a unique situation.

[miraculouslyfine]

bombed it

(Doesn't follow the events of anything, established relationship)

The one where Peter Parker and Y/n Stark don't see eye to eye for once.

Word Count: 10,8k

"You can't be serious”  

“I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose”  

~

Peter and Y/n rarely fought.   

They just got each other. They understood each other on a deeper level; their shared traumatic experiences definitely played a part in this mutual understanding. Their love had been tested and tempered, growing stronger with every challenge they faced together. Throw some ever-growing affection and trust into the mix, and there you have it: a happy, healthy relationship.  

Sure, they had their fair share of squabbles and petty arguments, just like any couple, really. But they both valued honesty and communication. They were open about their feelings in any and every given situation, always making sure they see eye to eye, always trying to find middle ground. After all, that's what relationships are for, right? Compromise.   

Peter was willing to give up a lot of things to ensure Y/n's happiness. Nothing mattered to him more than making sure his beautiful girlfriend, his best friend, the love of his life was perfectly contented with how things were between them. Well, almost nothing.  

The one thing Peter would never budge on was Y/n's safety. That was non-negotiable. He felt it was his duty as her boyfriend, as her superhero -superpowered superhero- boyfriend, to protect her, to make sure she never got hurt.  

Now, Y/n Stark was no damsel in distress and by no means a stranger to danger and all kinds of superhero-related adventures and difficulties. Having grown up with the Avengers, her involvement with the team of heroes was inevitable.   

She was –according to the rest of the team, Peter included- a vital part of the Avengers. She took part in missions, though in a less dynamic and active sense, usually helping come up with different strategies and plans (you can never be too careful!). She brought a “much needed unique and fresh perspective to the team", as her dad used to say (“I just overthink a lot, it's not that big of a deal", she would always mutter under her breath, causing Peter to roll his eyes and playfully flick her on the head).  

Even though Tony (mostly Pepper) didn't want his daughter risking her life and getting caught up in the superhero world, he knew that if push came to shove, she needed to be able to protect herself. Plus, he couldn't deny that she had a talent. Her combat skills, ideas, creations, and great planning and thinking ahead skills were more than appreciated within the community. She was trained by the Black Widow herself for god's sake, she knew what she was doing. 

So what could have caused this schism between them, causing Peter to leave the comfort of their bed, deciding to spend the night on the couch instead, away from the feeling of her warm body next to him? 

Peter knew what she was doing. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, right after he'd come back from his own patrol. She thought she was being sly about it, too. Really, Y/n? Now you're just insulting my intelligence. 

It's one thing to play vigilante and another to outright lie about it. And Peter hated lies almost as much as he hated not knowing whether she was safe or not. And these late-night activities of hers were starting to piss him off. They were not good for his heart, either. Every time he heard the soft sound of their bed creaking as she got out of it at ungodly hours, he could feel his chest tightening. He always tried to fight the urge to get up and immediately follow after her, just to make sure she wasn't doing anything reckless. 

He didn't realize right away. She didn't look like she had spent half the night fighting crime, at first. She'd return a couple of hours before he was supposed to wake up. She'd make sure there were no visible injuries and she'd go on with her day. She really thought he'd never find out (or at least not before she felt he was ready to find out). 

After a few days, the lack of sleep was apparent. And no matter how hard she tried denying it, or playing it off, Peter could tell something was up. It didn't take him long to start putting one and one together; her tiredness, some unexplainable scratches here and there, the fact that crime in NYC seemed to have subsided. 

Peter knew. And he didn't like what was happening, not one bit. They had talked about it once, a while back. She had done this before-gone around his back to play hero-, or at least attempted to, before Peter (with a little needed help from her overprotective, over the top father, the little snitch) brought an end to it. He thought she had understood, that she saw how she was being ridiculous and unreasonable. Recklessly throwing herself in danger, all in the name of proving something? That didn't sound like his very intelligent, very MINDFUL girlfriend. 

He tried talking to her again. He gave her the chance to come clean about her activities. She denied everything. 

He was mad. He was hurt. He felt betrayed. Not only did she ignore his warnings and went about it behind his back, she was also lying to his face. 

And they fought. It was bad. It was unlike any previous fight they had. They were screaming at each other, hurtful words flying in the air, the tension in the room palpable. It was getting late, they were both tired, frustrated and upset. 

"Y/n, for the last time. You're being stubborn about this. All I'm saying is there are ways for you to help without being ON the field. Without recklessly risking your life-" 

"For god's sake, Peter. You're acting like I'm some adrenaline junkie, picking up fights with random people at the bar! I am helping you-" 

"Helping me? You think making me stay up all night, worrying if you're gonna make it back in one piece, is helpful? Geez, what would I ever do without you?", he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm  

"No one asked you to stay up. I know what I'm doing. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm trained and-" 

"Oh, you're trained? Why didn't you just say so?" 

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples.

"Are you done? I'm trying to talk here and you're acting like a child!" 

"I'm the one acting like a child? You're acting like an angsty teen, sneaking around, ignoring everything and everyone!", he realized his voice came out a bit higher than intended. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

"Listen, Y/n, this isn't a game. Your life is not a game. You're putting yourself in danger. Hell, you're putting civilians in danger! What do you think you're doing, running around playing hero? Hm? You think you're tough for going out there all on your own? You're not tough, Y/n. You're dumb. You're dumb and reckless. What do you think will happen? You think you'll be lucky every time? That nothing bad will ever happen because you are trained? All it takes is one miscalculation, Y/n, one wrong move on your end, for things to take a really bad turn. Your luck will eventually run out. You could get hurt or..." 

He took a deep breath. He didn't dare finish that sentence. The thought of ever losing her was too much for him to handle. 

"You're not invincible, no matter how hard got try to convince yourself. You don't have healing factor, you don't have super strength, enhanced senses. NOTHING. You're intelligent, yes. You're incredible, you're creative, innovative, truly one of the smartest people I've ever met. You've got heart, I recognize that. But it's not enough. Your gadgets and devices won't save you every time."  

"One bullet", his voice cracked, "one bullet, Y/n, and you're gone. Do you get it now? GONE. DEAD. Do you understand the severity of the situation? You're risking your life. And for what? Five seconds of fame? To prove you're worthy of being your father's child? What are you trying to do?", he shook his head, frustration evident in his mannerisms. 

He took a good look of her. The sight immediately broke his heart. Her gaze sparkled with a delicate brightness, the unshed tears amplifying every flicker of emotion. He felt the need the need to reach out to her, to touch her (whether that was in order to hug or strangle her he didn't know for sure). But he didn't give in. He couldn't back down. Not when her safety was on the line. He needed her to understand, to see where he was coming from. 

The tears in her eyes refused to fall, clinging stubbornly to her lashes as her glare cut through the air like a blade. Who does he think he is? 

"This is what you think I'm doing? Showing off? Trying to prove a point?", a bitter chuckle escaped her. "No, Peter. I'm being helpful. I'm helping you, the cops, the people of New York. Why do you always do this? Why do you have to be like this? Why do you think you get to decide what’s best for me? I’m trying to help you, and you're out here treating me like I'm some kind of criminal, some kind of liability, an inconvenience to you! Do you think I don’t know the risks? Do you think I’m blind to the danger? I know what I’m walking into, but it’s my choice to make, not yours! You act like I’m some fragile thing that needs protecting, but I’m not, so stop acting like it.” 

“I'll stop when you start acting like a responsible adult for once”, he replied bitterly. 

“You're not a little girl anymore, Y/n. Tony won't be always there to save you and -as much as it pains me to say- neither will I” 

“I never-” 

"You never asked me to?", he run his hand through his hair in a frustrated manner. 

“I know. God, Y/n, I know. You're so goddam stubborn. You'd rather die than ask anyone for help. You're always so eager to prove your independence, that you don't need anyone to have your back. Well, news flash! You're not invincible. You're not some kind of god. And you're certainly not a hero. You can't just shrug off a bullet or an explosion or whatever insane thing you decide to get involved in next! You're human, so start acting like it. You're not expendable. Selfish is what you are.”  

"Selfish? You think I'm selfish? For what? For wanting to help people? Don't you see the irony of this coming from you?”, she let out a laugh in incredulity, unable to even fathom how he could ever say that to her. 

“You think this is about me? You think I'm just out here looking for glory or some kind of thrill? I’m doing what needs to be done, and if you can’t see that, then maybe you don’t understand me at all. You’re calling me selfish, but the truth is, you’re the one being selfish here. You’re more concerned with your own fear, your own worries, than you are about the bigger picture. I’m not out there for me. I’m doing what I can, what I have to, because I don’t want to sit back and let things happen when I know I can make a difference.” 

Peter was fuming. 

"God, this is ridiculous. I can't keep doing this, I just can’t! You’re out of control! Every damn time I turn around, you're throwing yourself into some insane situation, thinking you’re some kind of superhero. What do you think this is—some kind of game? You act like nothing can touch you, but that’s bullshit! You’re human, you’re not indestructible, and I’m getting sick of it. 

What do you think happens if you get hurt? Or worse, if you die? Oh, wait, you don’t think, do you? No, you’re too busy basking in the glory of your own self-righteousness to realize the mess you’d leave behind. Because, guess what? I’m the one who’d have to pick up the pieces. Me. The one who’s standing here, constantly worried, because you’re too damn reckless to care about the people who love you.  

You want to help people? Fine, but not at the expense of your own life! You think I’m just supposed to stand here, watching you put yourself in danger, all for some stupid idea of being a hero? Are you kidding me?! What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just be safe for once? Why do you have to go and do these reckless things that make my heart stop every single time? Do you even care about the people who love you?”, his chest rose and fell in sharp, measured movements, a betrayal of the battle raging within. 

She crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her skin as if trying to tether herself to composure 

“I know what I'm doing.”, she spat out. That was... a weak argument, that much she knew. But in her ~slightly~ emotional state, it was all she could over without completely breaking down in tears. 

It seemed like that single comment angered Peter to no end, making him laugh bitterly in return. 

“Do you think growing up in the Avenger's Tower makes you one of them? Here's a reality check: your little stunts don't make you a hero. They make you a liability. And if you keep this up, I don't know how much longer I can deal with it. Because I can't spend my life wondering if the next time you pull this crap will be the last time I ever see you” 

But Peter was on a roll, he couldn't stop there. 

“And you know what’s even worse? You don’t even care. You don’t care that you scare the hell out of me. You don’t care that I am waiting back here, while you do something so unbelievably reckless that might result in me losing you. Because it’s always about you, isn’t it? Your need to prove something, your need to feel important. Never mind the people you leave behind to pick up the pieces!” 

And... silence. Complete and utter silence. 

It wasn’t the kind of silence that comes from comfort; it was loaded with the weight of accusations and defenses that would never be voiced. 

Peter winced. He regretted saying those words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He was getting to her, he could tell. He also knew he was being kind of an ass about the whole thing, but he really needed her to understand how unreasonably stubborn she was being. He needed her to be safe, but it seemed like she didn't value her wellbeing all that much. He couldn't stand that. 

Ouch. That...yeah, that did the trick. It wasn't just what he said, it was mostly how he said it. So... cold and distant, poisonous almost. Like he was taunting her. She could barely recognize the man in front of her. That wasn't her sweet, loving boyfriend, her Pete, her biggest supporter. 

She understood his point of view. She is less experienced than him, especially in the sense of getting personal with the villains. The fact that she doesn't have any powers didn't help her much either. She knew he was worried about her safety, that all his anger was stemming from a place of love (even though it wasn't that evident that particular moment). But she also hoped he'd have more faith in her. After all, she is always careful, with at least three backup plans ready, just in case. She always follows protocol, doesn't make any rush decisions. And she's Iron Man's daughter for fucks sake, she does know what she's doing. 

“A liability, huh?” 

Her eyes were distant, gazing at something far beyond the room, avoiding contact like it might burn. It felt like there was an invisible wall around her, not built to shut others out but to keep herself from crumbling 

He sighed and spoke again, this time in a slightly softer tone. 

“I didn't mean it like that... I'm sorry. Look, Y/n, what I'm trying to say is I’m scared out of my mind, and I can't keep pretending like I’m okay with this. Every time you leave, I’m terrified you won’t come back. Every time you walk out the door, I wonder if I’ll be standing at your grave one day, all because you thought it was some heroic act to put yourself at risk. You think that’s noble? It’s selfish! It’s selfish because you’re not just risking yourself—you’re ripping apart the people who care about you.” 

He took another shaky, deep breath and spoke in a gentle, yet firm tone, his gaze intense. 

“I can't lose you, okay? I won't. And you doing this-this reckless, stupid, selfish thing- is how that's going to happen. If something ever happens to you... I won't forgive you for it.” 

His voice lowered but remained firm, trembling slightly.  

“And I won't forgive myself either”  

Silence settled over them once again. It was thick, like a fog settling over the room, muffling everything but the sound of their breathing. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe, as though the room itself disapproved. They sat stiffly, their gazes deliberately avoiding each other, the distance between them more like a chasm than a few feet. 

Peter cleared his throat. 

Things were not looking good for them right now. He didn't like it, not one bit. The room felt suffocating, the once light and warm atmosphere long gone. He truly hated fighting with her. He wished this conversation never happened. They'd be laying on the couch now in each other's arms, with her on top of him, her head on his chest, her arms lazily draped over him as he'd run his fingers through her hair, holding her close. Just talking about their day while some movie played in the background. That's what we should be doing, Peter thought. Instead, here they were, avoiding eye contact like they were about to face Medusa. But this conversation couldn't be held off any longer. 

Soon enough the silence became unbearable. 

“Maybe it's best if we just-”  

“I should-” 

As soon as they heard the other person talking, they both closed their mouths, resulting in yet another moment of awkward silence. So in sync these two, it was almost endearing. 

Peter tilted his head slightly toward her, eyebrows raised in a silent invitation to speak. 

Her eyes closed briefly before they looked up, a flicker of acknowledgment passing over her face as she nodded weakly before speaking in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. 

“Maybe we should take some time alone... to...cool off...you know...?”  

Peter sighed. This conversation hadn't led to anything. Anything other than hurt, frustration and a headache, that is. Hours of an endless emotional back and forth, all for nothing. They hadn't reached an agreement and he was certain they weren't seeing eye to eye. And this wasn't a matter he was willing to back down from, she had to realize that her actions affected him as well. 

He understood where she was coming from, he really did. He understood better than anyone the burning need to help, the desire to make a difference, that deep sense of responsibility to the world. He *is* Spider-Man after all, that's his thing; he cares, he acts. He feels the moral duty to use his abilities to protect others, often at great personal cost. He doesn't mind. Or, at least, he didn't in the past (it is kind of different when you have someone at home waiting for you, you just got to be more careful, you know?). 

But he doesn't want that for her. Never for her. 

Maybe he was the selfish one for getting mad at her. Maybe he was selfish for hating knowing she was out there somewhere, all alone, taking justice into her own hands. But is it really selfish of him not wanting to see her getting hurt over something completely preventable? Why would she be out there risking her life when HE could be doing that instead? Did she not realize how much she meant to him?  

He didn't want them to separate, not like this, not right now. But he really didn't feel like continuing this conversation. He was exhausted, his emotions all over the place, a hint of irritation still lingering. He could tell she was tired too. Plus, he still had today's patrol. 

He reluctantly nodded. 

“Yeah...maybe we should. I have to go anyway. We'll talk about this later, okay?” 

She just nodded in response and retreated to their bedroom. Peter stood there for a moment, contemplating his next move. He hesitantly made his way to the door. He didn’t want to go, not really—but a small, guilty part of him was already savoring the thought of the space he'd have once he left. There was a flicker of regret in his eyes as he turned away, quickly replaced by a soft exhale and a lighter step. He hesitated at the threshold, his hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment longer than necessary before finally turning it. As he stepped out, he paused for a moment, as if expecting Y/n to call him back, but when she didn't, his posture eased, and he moved forward with renewed purpose. This is gonna be fun.

Peter soon disappeared into the night, busying himself by fulfilling Spider-Man's duties. He went about with his usual routine, swinging around the most common areas, the sketchiest ones, the streets most accidents happen on. But it was an uncharacteristically quiet night; no supervillains threatening to wipe out NYC, no petty criminals running around causing chaos, no cats on extremely high trees needing saving. 

Someone asked him for directions, so there was that.  

(A man can't even escape his thoughts in peace, smh) 

Hours passed, and it was getting later and later. Frustration, worry, and exhaustion started to catch up with him. He was tired, his body screaming for rest and his heart begging for an end to this whole ordeal. After a couple of hours of killing time by meaninglessly swinging around, Peter decided it was finally time he returned home- to her.  

Peter returned to the apartment, his body tired and aching, frustration still gnawing at his. On his way back he wondered whether or not he'd find her there. She could've gone to a friend's or at her parents’ house to avoid him. She could’ve completely ignored him and left to play vigilante again. He prayed that wasn't the case. Honestly? He half expected her too, if anything just to spite him. 

He quietly entered, not knowing what to expect, but the place was quiet and empty. He scanned the room and the first thing he noticed was the food on the kitchen counter, a silent gesture from her. 

He grumbled to himself, still somewhat irritated by her behavior. But the mere sight of the food, still warm and waiting for him, softened his frustration just a bit. Despite everything, she still cared enough to think about him. 

He walked over to the counter, his stomach rumbling with hunger. He sat at the table, quietly eating the food, his mind still going over the events of the night. He couldn't stop the frustration from bubbling up, but he also couldn't ignore the fact that he was exhausted. The food tasted good, but it didn't do much to satisfy his frustration. He still wanted answers, he still wanted her to stop this nonsense. 

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound echoing in the empty room. He was tired, both physically and emotionally. He knew he needed to sleep, to rest and recharge. 

Peter opened the door to their bedroom and was immediately hit with a wave of surprise. Y/n was asleep in their bed, looking deceptively peaceful. Peter's eyes narrowed as he watched her.  

He wanted to wake her up, to confront her and put an end to this. But seeing her there, asleep and defenseless, made him pause. Peter grumbled internally, torn between his irritation and the sight of her peacefully sleeping in their bed. He knew he should wake her and confront her, but something about seeing her there, so calm and vulnerable, made his anger soften just a little. Instead of waking her up, he opted to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes watching her as she slept. The frustration was still there, but there was a hint of worry and care underneath it all.  

“Hey, baby. There's food on the kitchen”. Her voice was soft and muffled, more like a murmur than actual speech, as though weighed down by sleep. 

As Y/n spoke in her sleep, Peter's annoyance melted away just a little more. Her sleepy voice was almost endearing, and her concern for his well-being, even in her half-conscious state, touched a softer part of him. 

He let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his hair, his irritation fading into the background. Seeing her like this reminded him that beneath all the chaos and recklessness, she was still the girl he cared about.  

He couldn't bring himself to wake her up or to confront her right now, especially not when she was in such a vulnerable state. Instead, he sat there, watching her sleep, his mind swirling with a mix of frustration, care, and a bit of tenderness. 

He still had so many questions, and he was still upset about her antics, but for now, he was content to just sit there, listening to her gentle breathing and feeling a strange sense of peace in the room. Tomorrow would be another day for confrontations and discussions. 

Peter sat there for a few more minutes, just watching her sleep. The silence of the room was soothing, and the frustration he felt earlier was slowly fading away. 

With a deep sigh, he finally decided it was time to get some sleep himself. He carefully got up and made his way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

As he settled into the couch, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. He knew he'd have to talk to her again, to get answers and hopefully put an end to her vigilante streak. 

This is bad, she thought. 

Peter's presence –or absence- had woken her up from her already somewhat disrupted sleep. She kept replaying today's events in her head, almost as if she were trying to make herself angrier and more anxious. She didn't like fighting with him. Sure, she didn't agree with him in the slightest and his words angered her to no end, she couldn't deny that she missed him terribly, especially now that she had the whole bed to herself, feeling like it'd swallow her whole. 

Since when does he sleep on the couch, anyway? Why did he get to act immaturely and petty? Why didn't he want to sleep in bed with her? He was the one in the wrong, blowing things out of proportion. 

After staring at the ceiling for God knows how long, she decided she'd just go for it. She could be stubborn; she was certainly not above acting petty after a fight. But she missed him. A lot. She yearned for the warmth of his body, the feeling of his arms around her. She decided pettiness (and the talk they're bound to have) would have to wait until tomorrow morning. 

She pushed the covers aside sluggishly, her arms moving as though weighed down by invisible chains. Her feet slid off the bed and onto the floor, landing with a dull thud, her movements slow and deliberate. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, hunched over, before finally shuffling to her feet with a soft groan. She shuffled toward the door, each step a reluctant scrape, the sound faint in the stillness of the room. 

She slowly made her way to the living room. Her eyes immediately landed on Peter's sleeping form on the couch. Without giving herself another moment to think this through, she started walking towards him. 

She carefully climbed on the couch and settled in an awkward position on top of him/ against the back of the couch. It was very uncomfortable but she could manage. What she couldn't manage was Peter-less sleep. 

Peter was pulled out of his half-asleep state by the sudden movement on the couch. He blinked a few times, his vision slowly adjusting to the dim light. 

At first, he was confused. Was he dreaming? But then he felt Y/n's weight on top of him, her awkward positioning making him wince a little. 

He felt a surge of irritation bubble up once again. Seriously? She had the whole bed to herself, why was she cramping up the couch like this? He was about to protest, to tell her to go back to the bed where she would be more comfortable, but something held him back. Maybe it was the softness in her half-sleeping gaze, or the warm weight of her body on top of him. But instead of pushing her aside, he found himself pulling her closer, instinctively wanting to hold and comfort her. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

He let out a resigned sigh, his frustration giving way to a mixture of annoyance, care, and a hint of affection. Peter's eyes widened slightly at her unexpected question. He had been caught off guard by her words, and there was a moment of hesitation on his part. 

But her voice, tinged with vulnerability and hesitation, stirred something within him. Maybe it was the softness of her tone, or the genuine concern underneath the question, but the irritation that had been brewing in him suddenly lost some of its sharpness. 

He let out a long, quiet sigh before whispering back, his voice gentle but firm. 

"Yes, I am." 

They drifted into a quiet pause, the air between them tinged with hesitation. That was until she spoke again in an almost hushed tone. 

“Are you very mad at me?” 

Peter paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his emotions. Her quiet plea made his chest tighten, his heart conflicted between the lingering irritation and the instinctive need to comfort her. 

"Yes,", he whispered back, his voice softening a bit, "I am very mad at you." 

She hummed softly, acknowledging his response before speaking up once more. 

"Mad enough not to give me a goodnight kiss?" 

Peter couldn't help but feel a small spark of amusement at Y/n's words. Despite everything, despite his frustration, she still knew just how to disarm him with her playfulness. 

After a moment's hesitation, he relented, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smile. 

"I suppose I can manage a goodnight kiss. But then you need to promise you'll go back to your bed." 

"I don't like sleeping without you" 

Peter's heart skipped a beat. He was taken aback by her raw honesty and the vulnerability in her voice. It softened his frustration a bit more, reminding him of the love they shared beneath their disagreements. He let out a sigh, a mixture of annoyance and affection in his voice.  

"Why? Why can't you just... behave and make things easier for both of us?" 

That was... *not* what she expected to hear. She suddenly felt very awake, like a bucket of freezing cold water was dumped over her. It made sense that Peter wouldn't ignore the problem at hand just to let her cuddle with him in peace. Did she like it? No, not really. But that's Pete for you. Always wanting to do things right and always in proper order. 

But she was really not in the mood for that. Feeling rejected didn't help either. It was a quiet devastation, not loud or dramatic, but a slow, persistent ache she couldn’t ignore. The heat crept up her neck and into her face, her body betraying the humiliation she tried to suppress. Guess she won't be getting that goodnight kiss after all. 

She got off him just as quickly and awkwardly as she had previously climbed on top of him (she may or may not tried to discreetly knee him in the process). 

“You came here because you needed space. I need to respect that. I'll leave you alone", she said quietly as she got up from the couch. 

"Goodnight, Peter", she mumbled without giving him the chance to respond before walking back to their room with her head hung low, her shoulders slumped. 

Peter watched her walk away, her dejected expression pulling at his heartstrings. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but another part of him wanted space to think, to process everything. It was all just too much too quickly. 

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back on the couch. The night was still young, and there were so many thoughts swirling in his mind. He needed time to sort through his feelings, to figure out what to say to her when they talked. 

While Peter was busy staring at the ceiling and gathering his thoughts, Y/n was pacing back and forth in their shared room. She was feeling anxious.  

She knew her participation in any superhero related activity -let alone playing hero all on her own, in NYC of all places- wouldn't really appeal to Peter. 

She knew that, yet she did it anyway. She wanted to help, she knew she could help, so she did. Turns out all that training really paid off. She did good, if she said so herself. Criminals were caught, civilians were safe, the press was eating it up. It was a win in her books. 

Despite all that, she couldn't ignore how her actions affected Peter. He seemed pretty pissed off. And him being that mad at her wasn't a common occurrence, like at all. 

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. She was too emotional for that right now. Would they bounce back from this? Was he... done? Done with her? With them? She started giving through his closet, trying to find something to wear. She needed comfort, and if Peter wasn't about to provide that, his clothes would have to do. 

In true teenage girl fashion, she put on some sweatpants and one of Peter's hoodies. She put some sad, break up songs -Taylor Swift most likely- playing softly in the background, as she pulled her laptop and played a Star Wars movie, Peter's favorite. She was very well aware of how ridiculous she was being. But she really couldn't find it in herself to care. She was allowed to wallow in self-pity if she wanted to.  

As the movie started, her eyes began to tear up. She started thinking back to the day they first met, when they got together, when they moved into this house, essentially making herself cry more. What if this was their end? 

She didn't know what possessed her to act like this. Maybe it was the crippling fear that he'd break up with her. Maybe he was done with her. Maybe that's what tomorrow's conversation would bring. Because why on Earth would he want to sleep on the couch -without even giving her a goodnight kiss-, if he wasn't planning on breaking up with her? 

She cried even harder. 

Lost in his thoughts, Peter was startled when he heard a soft sniffling sound coming from the room he shared with Y/n (what a great day to have paper-thin walls!). Instantly, his irritation vanished, replaced by a sense of worry and concern. 

Was she crying? Was she upset? He couldn't bear to see her in distress, especially if he was the cause of it. And though part of him was still angry, the other just couldn't stand by and let her suffer. 

Silently, he got up from the couch and made his way to the bedroom door. 

Peter gently opened the door, trying not to make a sound. The sight that greeted him hit him hard. Y/n, dressed in his hoodie and sweatpants, sitting on their bed with her laptop in her lap, the screen lit up by the familiar glow of the original Star Wars trilogy playing. It was both sweet and heartbreaking. 

Tears were streaming down her face, and her small sobs filled the room. Peter could feel his heart cracking, torn between his lingering anger and his overwhelming love for her. He stood there for a moment, frozen, until the sight of her broke the last shred of his resolve. 

Peter moved forward slowly; his steps gentle yet firm. He approached her with care, as though she were made of fragile glass.  

“I could hear you from the living room” 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up... I'll keep it down” 

"No, no," he murmured, sitting beside her.  

"You don't need to apologize. I just...I just can't stand seeing you upset.", he reached out to brush the tears off her cheeks, his touch gentle and comforting. 

Tears spilled freely down her face as she leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand against her cheek softening the jagged edges of her emotions. Her shoulders trembled with quiet sobs, each one a wordless apology for the harshness of the argument that still lingered in the air. And yet, she didn’t pull away—instead, she melted into the comfort, clinging to the embrace as if it was the only thing keeping her from breaking completely. The touch was steady, almost forgiving, and despite the ache between them, it felt like a fragile truce beginning to take shape. 

"I don't want us to break up", she blurted out suddenly. 

Peter blinked in surprise. He was taken aback by her sudden outburst. It hadn't even crossed his mind that they would break up.  

"What? No, of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?" 

He pulled her gently into his lap, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. In return, she clung onto him and cried in his shirt. 

"I'm sorry. I really don't want us to break up. Ever. I hate it when you're mad at me. I don't want to lose you, Peter. You mean so much to me, I don't-" 

Peter held onto her tighter, his heart aching at her outpouring of distress and love. 

"Y/n, angel, listen to me," he said, his voice a calm and gentle assurance in the storm of emotions. "We're not breaking up. Not now, not ever. I love you. Mad, not mad, I love you. Do you understand what I'm saying? This is not a fleeting thing. This is us. Together. Forever." 

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I just wanted to do the right thing. I just wanted to help; I promise that's all I was trying to do. You're so busy and overworked and don't even complain because you're such a great person and I just wanted to help you and do something good for the world, too. I'm so sorry for making you worried. I didn't mean for things to come to this. I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry-" 

She cried even harder in his arms, making Peter's heart shatter at her tear-filled confession. He held her closer, feeling every word as if it weighed a thousand pounds. 

"Shhhhh, shhh," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "You don't have to be sorry for wanting to help, Y/n. That's who you are. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. But there are other ways. Safer ways. We'll find them. Together. But I need you to promise, to actually promise me, that you won't do that again, that you won't go out risking your life again." 

She pulled away slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes, her own still filled with tears. 

"Peter..." 

She shook her head. Her tone was quiet and soft, almost a desperate plea.  

Peter's heart clenched tightly in his chest again as she pulled back to face him. Seeing her tear-stricken expression, his resolve nearly faltered. But he steeled himself, knowing this conversation needed to happen.  

"I need to hear you promise, Y/n," he repeated firmly, his tone unwavering, "promise you won't do this again. Promise me right now, or I promise you we're done." 

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of their love and their future together. Suddenly, she started feeling slightly lightheaded. Did he just-? No, he wouldn't...would he? But he just said- 

"W-what? You can't be serious”  

“I'm sorry, Y/n, but you have to choose” 

As the gravity of what he had just said sunk in, Peter felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Had he really just threatened to end their relationship if she refused to comply? He loved this girl with all his heart, yet here he was, holding their relationship hostage like some sort of bargaining chip. 

He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. He needed her to know he was serious. But he also needed her to understand this was for their own good. For her safety. For their future. 

"Y/n," he said softly, but firmly, "promise me." 

"But you just- you just said this isn't a fleeting thing. That we are in this together. You just said-", her voice broke and a fresh set of tears ran down her cheeks. 

"And I meant it. I meant every word. But..." Peter paused, his gaze still fixed on her tear-streaked face. "But I can't watch you put yourself in danger like this. I can't stand idly by, watching you risk your life, your future, your everything just to prove a point. I can't promise you my undying love and then stand idly by and watch you throw it away. This isn't some game, Y/n. It's real life. And in real life, people get hurt. People get killed." 

"No. You don't understand. I'm always very careful. I follow protocol. I do everything right-"  

The words came out uneven, trembling as if her emotions were fighting their way through every syllable. Each word seemed to catch in her throat, rasping and shaking as she struggled to speak through the tears. 

"This isn't fair. You can't do this. Peter, you can't-", her own sobs prevented her from speaking. The hesitation in her voice mirrored the vulnerability in her eyes, wavering as though afraid to break completely. 

“No, Y/n, it's not fair!" Peter retorted, his emotions boiling over. "It's not fair that I have to sit here, worrying about you every second of every day. It's not fair that you get to waltz into a dangerous situation, risking everything, and leave me here wondering if I'm ever going you to see you again. That is not fair. But it's the reality of who we are. And I can't watch you do this to yourself, to me, to us." 

After he spoke the room fell silent. All that could be heard was the heaviness of Peter's breathing and Y/n's soft sniffles. 

“Would you do it?” 

“Would I do what?” 

"Would you quit being Spider-Man if I asked you to?", her voice barely above a whisper. 

"Wh-what?" Peter blinked, completely taken aback by Y/n's sudden question. It felt like a punch to the gut, the very thought of giving up being Spider-Man. It was a part of him, just as much as the love he had for her, and he couldn't imagine living a life without it. 

"Why would you-? No, Y/n," he sputtered, the words stumbling out before he could stop himself. "It's not the same. What I do, it's different. I have powers. I have responsibilities-" 

"Okay, then.” 

There was a hint of disappointment and an even bigger hint of finality in the way she said it. That was all she said. Such small and insignificant words, but in that moment, it could potentially signify the end of an era, the end of their era. 

The silence that followed was stifling, the weight of Y/n's words hanging heavily in the air. Peter stared at her, his heart in his throat. This couldn't be it, could it? After everything they had been through, was this really how it would end? 

"No. Y/n, you can't-" Peter's voice broke, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You can't possibly want me to choose between you and my duty as Spider-Man. It's...it's not a fair choice. It's not fair to ask me to give up-" 

“I'm not. I was just... wondering if you'd do the very same thing you're asking me to do”, she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.  

Peter's heart clenched as he watched the tears stream down her cheeks. The realization of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks. Had he really just demanded she choose between her desire to help and her love for him? Had he really just issued an ultimatum that threatened their entire relationship?  

His shoulders slumped, his resolve suddenly shattered. 

"I...I didn't mean..." He stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his mistake. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm-" 

"At least you won't have to deal with my recklessness anymore", she chuckled bitterly, her tone only half joking. Her voice was quiet and tired as a result of all the crying. 

She really didn't want their relationship to end, especially not like this. Maybe if she took a moment to calm down (if only she could just close her eyes for a minute) she'd see they were both overreacting. They both had their point. Maybe they could even hug it out. That could work, right? It works for kindergarteners; it could work for them, too. But in her emotional and restless state all she could think about was one upping him, making him feel guilty for ever threatening to end things. 

Peter's heart cracked at Y/n's half-hearted attempt at humor. He knew he had a lot of apologizing to do, but right now all he wanted to do was make it right. He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't even begin to imagine a life without her.  

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, his Spidey-Sense suddenly flared, causing him to freeze mid-breath. "Hang on," he interrupted, his brow furrowed in concentration, his senses now fully alert. He stood silently, focusing on the signals his Spidey-Sense was sending him. Something was off, something was wrong. 

His eyes darted around the room, his attention flicking to the window. Was that... movement? A shadow? A flicker of something out of the ordinary. Y/n's eyes followed Peter's line of sight on the window behind them, noticing something. Before she had the time to let Peter know, the object she noticed was already on its way to their room.  

Acting purely on instinct, in a fragment of a second, she had pushed Peter off the bed, and fell on top of him, concealing him from whatever was going to burst through the window.  

Peter's Spider-Sense blared again, a split second later than it would have been if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own emotions. 

The force of the blast sent a wave of debris and smoke swirling through the apartment. Glass shattered around them, raining down like sharp, shiny confetti. 

The rush of adrenaline barely let her register the feeling of glass breaking her skin. Peter's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Y/n had flung herself on top of him, shielding him from the impending explosion. He tried to push her off him, his strength kicking in, knowing he could withstand the blast. 

But it was too late. The shockwave of the blast hit them, sending them crashing against a nearby wall. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around Y/n, trying to protect her as much as he could. The explosion was deafening, the pain momentarily blinding.  

Once the dust began to settle, Peter slowly let go of Y/n, trying to catch his bearings. Peter's eyes darted around the destroyed room, trying to assess the damage. The devastation was staggering — shattered windows, smoke filling the room, debris everywhere. But his focus was on Y/n; the only thing that mattered right now. 

He gently grasped her shoulders, pulling her towards him, trying to assess her injuries. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaky with worry. "Please, please tell me you're okay." 

She barely noticed the sharp ache on her side or the warmth of blood trickling down her temple as she looked over the charred remains of what had once been their home. Her eyes stayed fixed on the crumbled remains of their house, where years of memories now lay in twisted, blackened ruins. The faint ache in her ribs with each breath was nothing compared to the hollow thud in her chest as she stared at the space that had once been their home.  

Her breathing was shallow, ragged—not from exertion, but from the weight of what she’d lost. Every step sent a jolt of agony through her body, but she ignored it, her focus locked on the blackened timbers and ashes that used to hold their memories, their life. What was a little pain compared to this? 

Peter's grip on her shoulders tightened slightly, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Y/n, look at me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Look at me and tell me you're okay." 

He needed to know she was alright. He couldn't handle the alternative. The thought of losing her was more terrifying than any explosion or villain. 

"Pete, our home. It's... it's gone” 

Her words stumbled out, disjointed and hollow, as if her mind was still scrambling to catch up. ““The picture wall, the stupid chemistry pun posters... they're all... gone.” Her mouth hung slightly open, her voice barely above a whisper, like she couldn’t trust the weight of her own thoughts. Every sentence felt like a question, her tone wavering between incredulity and desperate denial, as if speaking it aloud might somehow undo the reality before them.  

Peter's heart ached at her words. The thought of everything they had built together being destroyed was almost too much to bear. But right now, the only thing that mattered was Y/n. 

He took a deep breath, pushing aside his own emotions.  

"It's just stuff, Y/n. Things. We can get new stuff. None of it matters as long as you're okay." 

“But it won't be *our* stuff” 

Peter's heart broke at her words. She was right. Nothing could replace the sentimental value of their shared belongings — their collective memories and shared experiences. But he had to remain strong for her. He couldn't afford to break down when she needed him. 

"We'll make new memories. Better memories. I promise," he said softly, his hands still on her shoulders. "We'll find a new place, and we'll make it ours. It'll be even better than before. You have to trust me." 

"Trust you? You just broke up with me!”, her tone was almost accusing as tears began running down her face. 

Peter's heart felt like it was tearing in two as the words left Y/n's lips. He hadn't meant it, he *never* would have meant it. He only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. But he realized his own fear and anxiety had caused him to make a mistake, a terrible mistake. 

"Y/n, baby, please," he pleaded. "It wasn't real. I was scared. I was worried about you going out and putting yourself in danger. I... I panicked. Please, you have to know... I love you." 

"You have a funny way of showing people you love them", she muttered sarcastically under her breath. “Anyway, is that supposed to make me feel better? You gave me an ultimatum, we kinda broke up and an explosive device literally demolishes our home". Angry tears were running down her face. 

"What is going on today? And you were mad because what? Because I risked my life? NEWS FLASH, PETER. THAT'S WHAT YOU DO ALL THE GODDAMN TIME. But I TRUST you and BELIEVE in your need to contribute to the greater good"  

"And I'd never- ah, fuck", she hissed and pressed down on her side 

Peter's eyes widened. Immediately, all other thoughts faded into the background. He quickly moved to her side, lifting up her shirt to assess the damage. His eyes fell on a nasty cut on her side, blood slowly seeping out.  

"You're bleeding," Peter said, his voice trembling with panic. "Why the hell didn't you say something earlier?" 

"Because I was in need of a red shirt- obviously I didn't know!"  

Her tone sounded sarcastic and frustrated; a hint of fear mixed in there as well. 

Peter huffed, feeling an emotional whirlwind. Mainly relief and the tiniest bit of irritation. Of course, she couldn't resist a snarky comment even in a crisis. 

"Right, because bleeding is the current trend," he quipped, trying to match her tone. "Red's not really your color, by the way. You're more of an orange gal." 

He couldn't help but feel a hint of affection towards her, even as he berated her. 

“Parker, I swear to God, if you don't zip it right now, I'll make you regret ever asking me out on that first date” 

Peter paused for a moment, caught off guard by her comment as it reminded him how he just threatened his lovely girlfriend -who he's madly in love with and would literally die for- he'd break up with her if she didn't stop doing something she loves. Her words sent a jolt of guilt through him; he could hear the hurt in her voice, and he knew he was the cause of it. 

He shook his head, pushing the weight of his mistake to the side for now. Y/n was bleeding, and that was his first priority. He would deal with the fallout of his ultimatum later.  

"Hang on," he said softly, gently lifting her up. "We need to stop the bleeding. Then we'll talk." 

He gently wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they made their way to what was left of the kitchen. The sink miraculously survived the explosion, and he helped her lean against it. Grabbing a clean cloth, he ran it under the faucet, wetting it.  

"This might hurt," he warned, gently pressing the cloth to her wound. 

“I'm not talking to you”, she said almost right away. 

Peter paused at Melina's response. Her voice was laced with frustration, and he couldn't blame her. He had screwed up, big time. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She was being stubborn, and he knew she had every right to be. 

"Look, I get it. You don't want to hear from me right now. I messed up, and I know that," he said softly, his gaze fixed on her. "But you're bleeding. I have to help you. Please, let me help you. Then you can go back to giving me the silent treatment if you want, okay? Plus, you don't have to talk. I'll do all the talking. Just let me patch you up, okay?" 

His voice was gentle, the frustration and anger from earlier having faded into the background. He knew that making things right with Y/n was going to take more than just words. It was going to take action. 

"I don't want to hear you talk either", she mumbled childishly. 

Peter raised an eyebrow at her petulant response. He had no doubt she wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation right now, but he refused to let her bleed out on her own floor because she was mad at him. He had to patch her up.  

He exhaled softly, gathering a bundle of supplies from a nearby first-aid kit. 

"You know, you're adorable when you're angry," he commented, unable to help himself. He started carefully cleaning the wound, his hands moving with precision and care. 

"And you're still talking" 

He couldn't help but smile at her stubbornness. He had truly fallen for a strong, independent woman. "Sorry, I just can't resist when my girlfriend's bleeding and fuming. It's a dangerous combination." 

He carefully began stitching up her wound, his hands steady and sure. "Just remember, a little bit of anger and banter make for the best love stories. We might be the next big blockbuster, with how dramatic we are." 

“Ex girlfriend", she corrected with an eye roll at the irony of it all. 

"And no love story for us. You can pursue your romance with the Becky from down the street now", she said grumpily, the thought alone tugging at her heartstrings 

Peter let out a sigh of exasperation at Y/n's correction. He knew he had made a mistake, and it hurt to see her refer to herself as his ex-girlfriend, but for now, her cut had his full attention. He couldn't get sidetracked. 

"You're right, I'm sorry. But you know, we could be the next enemies to lovers, if you play your cards right. A little banter, a little fighting, and then some dramatic make-up scene. The audience will love it." 

He finished stitching up her wound, his touch gentle despite his words. 

She wanted to stay mad at him, she really did. But it was hard to when he was making silly little comments like these. A small smile made its way to her face but she quickly bit down on her lip to stop herself before he saw and got cocky about it. 

Peter's keen Spidey senses picked up on the shift in her demeanor. He caught the subtle smile she tried to hide, and it warmed his heart. 

"Oh, is that a smile I see?" He said in a teasing tone. "I knew my charm would get to you eventually. Just imagine, if you're already smiling after breaking up, what could happen if we make up? The world might just explode from our awesomeness." 

"No one's smiling, you must've hit your head" 

Peter chuckled at her quick defense of her smile. He finished applying an antiseptic to the wound and gently covered it with a clean bandage.  

"Right, of course, I'm just seeing things," he replied with a playful wink. "But hey, if I did hit my head, maybe I'm having a vivid dream where you and I are the star-crossed lovers in the epic love story that is our lives. And you know what that means, right?" 

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Wake me up with a kiss, Melina." 

"That was the corniest thing I've ever heard. Plus, I have this rule of not kissing ex boyfriends, sorry" 

"You're really gonna play hard to get?", Peter countered, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, I guess I'll just have to win you back then. I've defeated villains and battled super-powered monsters. Winning your heart back can't be much harder, right?" 

He stood up, helping her up as he did so. He couldn't resist pulling her towards him, his hands lightly settling on her hips. "And just so you know, I'm a great kisser." 

"Really? You'd think I would know, considering we spent the last four years of our lives together" 

"Touché. But you know what they say, practice makes perfect. Maybe I should give you a refresher. After all, I can't have you going around thinking I'm a bad kisser, can I?" 

He gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his gaze filled with affection. 

"So what do you say? For old time's sake?" 

"Old time being... yesterday?" 

Peter shrugged with a sheepish grin. "Well, technically yes, but you know what I meant. Besides, yesterday was a lifetime ago. We've had an explosion, a break-up, and a reunion. That's a lot more than most couples experience in a lifetime." 

He paused for a moment, a genuine warmth seeping into his voice. 

"In all seriousness, Y/n, I messed up. I've regretted it this entire time. I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance to prove it. To prove that we're... perfect together." 

“ ‘This entire time’ being...what? Thirty minutes?"*she said with a snort of amusement. 

Peter chuckled, his smile widening. "Alright, alright, I get it. We can't all be as patient as you with our ex-boyfriends. But seriously, Y/n, I mean it. I regret what I said. I was scared, and I made a mistake." 

He paused for a moment, his gaze growing serious. "I love you. I want you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win back your trust and heart." 

He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Can we... just start over? Please?" 

She pulled her hand away from his and just stood there, watching him for a moment. After a bit she extended her arm towards him and introduced herself. 

"Y/n Stark", she said with the tiniest of smiles evident on her lips. 

“Who's being corny now?”, he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before wrapping his hand around hers, savoring the feel of her skin against his. 

"Y/n Stark," Peter echoed, his voice soft with affection "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n Stark. I'm Peter Parker. But you can call me anytime." 

With that, he gently pulled her closer, his free hand reaching up to caress her cheek. He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against hers, sealing their newfound beginning with a tender, heartfelt kiss. She laughed softly against his lips, the pickup line catching her off guard. Peter couldn't ignore the fluttering in his chest as her laughter met his lips. The sound was like music to his ears, and he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist. 

Pulling away slightly, he whispered in her ear, "Did that meet your witty standards, Miss Stark?" 

"I'll let it slide", she said with a serious expression, nodding slightly before a smile made its way on her face again. 

Peter grinned, his eyes sparkling with adoration. "Only let it slide? I'll have to step up my game, then. How about this?" 

He leaned in again, his voice a low murmur against her lips. "I swear I'll be your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if you let me swing by your place every night." 

She snorted in amusement “That was so bad” 

“Was it now?” With that, he captured her lips in a kiss, expressing the depth of his feelings for her with each lingering moment. 

Their lips met softly, tenderly, as if every touch was a gentle reminder of how much they meant to each other. It was unhurried, each moment lingering with the quiet depth of love that words could never capture. There was no urgency, only a profound warmth, a silent apology woven into the way their hands cupped each other’s faces. The kiss held forgiveness, not as a plea, but as a gift, an unspoken promise that they were ready to move forward together. It wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a vow, a renewal of everything they’d shared and everything they still hoped to build. 

After a bit, they pulled away to catch their breath.  

“So, we're together again?”, she asked playfully. 

He looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement as before he softly kissed her forehead "Please, we were never not together” 

With that, they fell in silence. 

The silence wrapped around them like a soft blanket, warm and steady, filling the spaces where words weren’t needed. It wasn’t heavy or awkward but gentle, a quiet acknowledgment of shared understanding. The only sounds were the subtle rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of the world outside, creating a calm that felt almost sacred. In that stillness, there was no need to explain, no need to fill the air with chatter—it was enough just to be there, side by side, letting the silence speak what their hearts already knew. 

“Are we going to ignore the fact that we're homeless?” 

A small chuckle left Peter's lips as he pulled her closer. 

"You always have to ruin the mood”, he said jokingly, “We'll figure it out, baby. Just you and me. And your dad. We should probably call him and beg him to let us crash because we're kind of screwed otherwise”  

[drumlincountry]

I am at the stage of trauma recovery that feels like reattaching previously dead limbs.

[asurrogateblog]

[jigsaw voice] hello pink floyd fan. you have ten minutes to draft a post speculating about what happened to syd in a way that neither exaggerates nor dismisses the role of mental health and/or drug abuse in his departure from the band while simultaneously acknowledging his personal agency without reverting to either unfair blame or ableist infantilization. if you fail to write something sufficiently nuanced that does not ultimately contribute to his unsolicited martyrdom this brick I've tied on a string to the ceiling fan above your head will swing around and probably kill you eventually idk give it a few rounds

[infiniteanalemma]

I know that Act 3 of BG3 could use a lot of fleshing out in so many areas and that this is such a minor thing, but it bugs me to an absolutely unreasonable degree that the Planar Ally summons don't have anything to say.

So, for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, the Planar Ally cleric spell lets you summon either a deva (angel, basically), cambion or djinni. The three of these are all sapient beings of fairly high intelligence, possibly higher than the one who summons them. For context, the deva has 17 Int as his lowest stat, with Wis 20 and Cha 20. I think the djinni has 15 Int. The cambion I'd have to check, but you get the point.

Unfortunately, they don't have any dialogue, not even basic voice barks. 😒 This is especially annoying to me because you get dialogue with Us, Shovel and can talk to a bunch of temporary companions like Glut or the random Harpers who help you in Moonrise. You get all sorts of ambient commentary from the Sentient Amulet ghost monk, and you can talk to him at will. He doesn't have a lot of dialogue, but still! Come on, man!

Do you mean to tell me that a literal angel from heaven, summoned to help you, has nothing to say about your situation? (And keep in mind that this is a cleric spell. If you're playing as a good-aligned cleric, this is very likely a servant of your god.) You're saying that a devil isn't looking at this situation like 👀 ? A djinni may shrug and be like "this isn't really my problem, I'm just along for the ride," but even they're still (chaotic good) sapient beings who you'd expect to have thoughts. Even if it's just about the audacity of this random bitch (gn) to summon them from whatever they were doing without even offering them anything for their trouble.

And that's not even getting into the potential drama. Like, can you imagine taking a literal angel into a brothel and then going upstairs to the devil's private room to discuss a deal? Or the incredibly catty response Raphael would have if Tav brings another cambion into the meeting, or perhaps more explosively, to his house to steal from him? You mean to tell me the annoying djinni at the circus wouldn't prompt a summoned djinni to say something?

Argh! The missed potential! *tearing out hair*

[sybbi]

People will see the Star of David and be like "Is this Zionist propaganda?"

[lunaetis]

the change eden adapted due to the triggering events in penacony reminds me a little of lumine in inazuma. we see the way lumine hardened when she arrived in inazuma due to the experience she had prior. later on, however, lumine found it in herself to open up again as the story progressed very much thanks to the people she met. i do hope that once the ordeal in penacony is over, that eden would have the chance to learn to place her trust in people again. another thing is that, i do believe that lumine has higher tolerance for emotionally stressful situations because she had been alive for a long long time, while eden's mentality is similar to that of a child after being awakened in a blank state. lumine had gone through many things, i believe she had seen wars, bloodshed, and had killed before. her mental stability is much stronger than eden who was still learning and developing developing through experience and meetings.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Ok so I want to write about live triangles and I’m petty Sure twilight is to blame for their popularity

Oh, interesting! If you do end up writing something, I'd be very curious to hear about it or read it. I don't know much about the history of love triangles, but I do know about the history of the YA genre! (it started around the 1960s, though some consider Seventeenth Summer by Maureen Daly to be the first YA novel, which was published in 1942).

And, of course, if you need to know anything about twilight for this writing I am positively brimming with information. Not necessarily useful information, but information nonetheless.

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - In Her Embrace

Summary - Aegon can only seem to find consolation and loyalty in his wife, who fiercely defends him against the world's cruelty. He clings to her like a lifeline, craving the affection and comfort she uniquely provides, both through her words and through her body.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2039

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Aegon Targaryen was an unusual man, shaped by the emotional neglect of his childhood. The absence of love from his parents left him craving affection and validation throughout his adult life. 

This deep-seated need for attention often made him a more complex figure than many cared to understand.

As the only trueborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, my marriage to Aegon had been orchestrated by my grandsire, a match he pursued with unwavering determination. 

Queen Alicent, recognizing the significance of the silver hair I inherited from my parents, could not oppose this union. Thus, the match was sealed, binding me to Aegon.

On this particular day, I found myself in the library, a book resting in my hand, my legs draped casually over the arm of a chair. I was comfortably ensconced in my corner of the room, enjoying the serenity of the space while Aegon conversed with his brother and a few friends across from me.

Their discussion was monotonous, and I found my attention drifting in and out. However, as the conversation grew more heated, with sharp comments and pointed jabs exchanged, I looked up from my book.

 Aemond's voice cut through the air, dripping with a mocking tone.

"Really, Aegon, you think you can handle that matter on your own?" Aemond said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "The last time you tried to make a decision without help, the results were as disastrous as a shipwreck in a storm."

Aegon stiffened, his face reddening slightly. "And what would you know about it? You've been too busy sulking in your corner to make any real decisions yourself."

Aemond leaned back in his chair, the smirk widening. "Ah, but at least I'm not clinging to every word of praise like a child to a comfort blanket. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if you believe the whole realm revolves around your every whim."

The friends exchanged glances, some snickering quietly. Aegon's jaw tightened, and he shifted uncomfortably.

I shifted in my chair, feeling the tension mount. I cleared my throat, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Perhaps we could avoid turning every conversation into a competition, kēpus?" Uncle?

Aemond's gaze snapped towards me, his surprise evident. "Oh, forgive me, riña. I didn't realize my commentary was causing distress." Girl.

My jaw clenched at his sarcastic tone. "Tubī daor," I said firmly, hoping to cut this discussion short. Not today.

Aemond's smirk grew wider as he noticed the exchange, his friends looking between us in confusion. Aegon appeared to be struggling to piece together the conversation.

"Valyrian?" Aemond said with a tone of feigned shock, as though I had no right to use our native language.

"Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa." I replied sharply, making it clear that Valyrian was indeed my mother tongue despite what he thought. Valyrian is my mother tongue. 

"Yet, your fool of a husband still can't speak it properly," Aemond taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. He knew exactly how much his words would sting, and he relished the opportunity to inflict pain.

"Mittys iksā."  I spat out, my patience fraying to its limit. You're a fool.

Aemond's eyes glinted with malice, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "And you're fortunate to be miraculously the daughter of your father and mother, unlike your strong brothers." The jab was unmistakable, aimed precisely to provoke and humiliate.

"Brother," Aegon interjected his tone a clear warning.

Aemond scoffed, not missing a beat. "What is it, brother? Here to defend your mommy?" His sneer deepened, and a quiet, mocking laugh escaped him. 

"Go latch onto her tit like the babe you are," he continued, his words laced with derision.

Aegon's face tightened with anger, but he remained silent, clearly struggling to keep his composure.

I could feel the fury boiling within me, a storm of emotions that Aemond seemed intent on unleashing. 

"You always did have a talent for cruelty, kēpus," I said, my voice shaking with barely controlled rage. "Is that all you have? Insults and jabs? It's pathetic." Uncle,

Aemond's smile widened, his eyes dancing with a dangerous light. "Oh, dear niece, you mistake my intentions. This is not cruelty. This is merely truth"

He turned his gaze back to Aegon, his expression hardening. "The truth is that my brother, your husband is nothing more than a pathetic, tit-sucking babe."

I snapped my book shut with a decisive thud, rising from my chair and striding towards the table separating us. 

I placed my hands down heavily, my knuckles white with tension. "Enough, Aemond. This is not the time or place for your nonsense."

The library fell silent as Aemond, slowly rose from his seat. The others, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, began to gather their belongings and leave. Soon, only Aegon and I remained.

I walked towards Aegon, gently placing myself in his lap, facing him. Straddling him, my legs rested on either side of his own. His eyes, clouded with a mix of anger and hurt, looked up at me as if seeking comfort.

I cupped his face in my hands, my thumb softly rubbing back and forth on his cheek. He nuzzled into my touch like a cat seeking affection, his eyes closing as he leaned into my palm. 

His face fell forward into my chest, and I gently stroked through his hair, he hummed in contentment, the sound a low, soothing vibration against my skin.

"I'm sorry about that," I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Aemond can be insufferable, but he doesn't have to be so cruel."

Aegon took a deep breath, his face still buried in my chest. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice tinged with gratitude and relief. "I don't expect you to intervene, though."

"I had to," I replied, continuing to stroke his hair gently. "No one should have to endure that kind of treatment."

Aegon's grip tightened slightly around my back, his breathing steadying. "I appreciate it. Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I'm always in the wrong."

"You're not," I said firmly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You're trying your best, and that's more than enough."

He met my gaze, a flicker of the old Aegon shining through the fatigue and frustration. "It's hard not to feel like everyone's against me."

"Well," I said with a small smile, "you have me and I'm not going anywhere."

Aegon's eyes softened, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "I'm glad for that."

"You know," I said softly, tracing patterns on the back of his neck with my fingers, "you're stronger than you think. Don't let Aemond's words get to you. He thrives on making others feel small."

Aegon sighed, his breath warm against my skin. "It's just... he always knows exactly where to hit, what to say to make me doubt myself."

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a moment. "He only has power over you if you let him. You are Aegon Targaryen, a man with his own strengths and worth."

Aegon lifted his head slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Do you really believe that?"

"I do," I said without hesitation. "And I'll keep believing it until you believe it too."

He smiled then, a real, genuine smile that lit up his face, making him look almost boyish. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," I promised, resting my forehead against his, feeling the warmth and security of the moment envelop us both.

He leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, tentative kiss. I hummed in response, my hand moving to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. He deepened the kiss, his hands roaming to bunch up my dress, pooling the fabric around my waist.

"Here?" I questioned, breaking the kiss to look into his eyes. He nodded quickly, his eyes softening with need and vulnerability.

"Please," he whimpered, and I couldn't say no.

"Alright," I whispered, lifting my hips slightly to give him room to remove his pants. 

As he hurriedly fumbled with his trousers, I felt a rush of anticipation and tenderness. The urgency in his movements spoke volumes about his need for comfort and connection.

When his pants were finally off, his already hard cock sprang free, brushing against my thigh. 

"Gods, Aegon," I mumbled, feeling the heat and urgency of the moment.

He let out a shuddering breath, his hands steadying me as I positioned myself above him. With a slow, deliberate movement, I lowered myself onto him, feeling him fill me completely. We both gasped at the sensation, a perfect blend of physical pleasure and emotional intimacy.

Our movements were slow and deliberate at first, savouring the closeness, the shared breaths, the mingling of our heartbeats. Aegon's hands roamed my back, and my waist, anchoring me to him as we found a rhythm that was both comforting and exhilarating.

"You're everything to me," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"You deserve all the love and more," I replied, cupping his face in my hands and looking deeply into his eyes. "And I'm here to give it to you."

His grip tightened on my hips, guiding me as our pace quickened. It was just the two of us, lost in each other, in the intensity of our connection.

His hands moved from my hips to my shoulders, trailing down to my chest. He squeezed my breasts through the fabric of my dress, his touch sending shivers down my spine. 

His fingers fumbled with the ties at the top of my dress, loosening it enough to pull down and reveal my bare breasts to him.

He didn't hesitate for a moment. With a hunger that took my breath away, he took one of my breasts into his mouth, sucking and licking at my nipple. His hand squeezed the flesh of my other breast, causing groans of pleasure to escape my lips. 

I arched my back, pressing myself further into his mouth, the sensation of his tongue and lips on my sensitive skin driving me wild.

Aegon's other hand found its way to my back, pulling me closer as he switched to my other breast. He lavished it with the same attention, his mouth working expertly, alternating between gentle sucks and firm licks.

"Gods, Aegon," I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed him closer. 

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire, and the sight of him, so devoted and hungry, made my heart swell.

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, his lips glistening. "You taste so good," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with lust. 

Emboldened by his words, I began to move faster and harder on top of him. Aegon responded eagerly, his hands moving to grip my hips, helping to guide my movements. Each thrust brought a wave of intense pleasure, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. 

The sound of our laboured breathing and the slick, rhythmic movements filled the room, creating a symphony of raw, unfiltered desire.

Aegon's mouth returned to my breasts, his teeth grazing my nipples as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through me. I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders for support as I rode him with increasing fervour.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered between kisses, his voice strained with passion. "So perfect."

I could feel the tension building within me, the familiar coil of pleasure tightening with each movement. Aegon's grip on my hips tightened, his own release imminent. 

With a final, powerful thrust, I cried out his name as the orgasm washed over me, my body trembling with the intensity of it. Aegon followed soon after, his own release shuddering through him as he buried his face in my chest, muffling his groans of pleasure.

We collapsed against each other, our bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison. Aegon's arms wrapped around me, holding me close as we caught our breath. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest, a comforting reminder of the connection we shared.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "For everything."

I kissed the top of his head, my fingers gently stroking his hair. "Always," I replied, my voice filled with love and certainty. "I'll always be here for you."

A/n - Well, that escalated quickly!

[dan-crimes]

Honestly I wonder what a good formula is for making a fandom so PASSIONATELY hate a character cuz people HATE morally grey characters more than villains a lotta the time BUT very SPECIFIC morally grey characters that aren't all chalked up to being Secret Heart of Gold type deal

[serial-unaliver]

Say more about what people say here and why you're grateful you were raised that way?

basically a lot of people on here are incapable of understanding they are not the only person struggling on planet earth and it's absolutely ridiculous to defend choices harming people 10000x worse off than you because you may be uncomfortable. "you don't understand, i'm having compassion fatigue and [x] brings me comfort" in response to a boycott is an example. but you can also see this attitude arise when you yourself express an opinion someone disagrees with. if I criticize psychiatry, clearly that means i'm mentally healthy and want innocent neurodivergent tumblr users to suffer. if I say "don't work for a US defense contractor" that means I don't understand the struggles of having a low paid job instead. no one suffers more than commenter #2, and no one else's opinions should be considered.

i'm grateful I was raised to think of people worse off than me rather than say my life is the Worst. everything that happened to me has happened to many other children and not all of them were able to escape the situation and live a normal life like me, because they were in worse circumstances. i'm always thinking, every awful experience i've had is not unique, and I should want to improve the lives of others not as lucky rather than pity myself. WARNING: this mindset will get you canceled on tiktok for saying things like "it comes across as insensitive to complain that your rich parents gave you more money than love in discussions about trauma from poverty" <- i'm never taking that back btw

[aardelea]

Love Languages: How They Show Their Affection

Hey everyone! I'm back with another headcanon post, this time diving into how our favorite characters express their love and affection. Whether it's through subtle gestures, grand displays, or tender moments, each one has their own unique way of showing how much you mean to them. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together!

Jin • Jin is not a man of many words. That’s why it’s important to understand the language of his gestures in order to feel his affection. • He shows his affection in various situations where you can count on being the only person who gets to experience it. For instance, he often lets you decide what you’ll have for dinner. Believe it or not, you won’t even notice if you pick something he has no appetite for. • When he craves closeness, he’ll send you a message, regardless of the time, calling you to his room. It’s more of a command than a request. But if you comply, you’ll find yourself wrapped in his arms on the couch or bed, simply enjoying his presence. That moment belongs to just the two of you. • Whenever you even think about wanting something special, it will appear in your room the next day. He also likes to surprise you with things you hadn’t even thought of. He catches every little detail from your stories about your dreams and passions, and when the opportunity arises, he brings them to life through small gifts.

Tohma • Both of you have strict schedules, so showing affection is key in this relationship if you want to make the most of the time you have together. Tohma knows this well. • When you see each other amidst the hustle and bustle of the academy, he gives you, and only you, his warmest smile. • He’s not a fan of showing physical affection in public, but when he crosses your path, he’ll always pass close enough for your hands to “accidentally” brush. His hand closes slightly, as if trying to hold yours. • If time and circumstances allow, he’ll quickly and wordlessly pull you into an empty room or hallway when you pass by him. He gives you a brief but passionate kiss, brushes a strand of hair from your face, and looks deeply into your eyes before you both go on your way, as if nothing happened.

Luca • Luca is initially reserved about showing his feelings for two reasons. First, he knows his best friend Kaito has feelings for you and doesn’t want to rub it in his face that you didn’t choose him. Second, Luca is a true gentleman who would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. • But he never tires of showering you with compliments, all of which he means sincerely. You can see it in his eyes—no man could look at you with more love. • When you’re alone, and you’re facing away from him, he loves to hug you from behind. You both linger in that position, enjoying each other’s warmth. • When you sleep together, he holds you tightly, as if afraid you could be taken from him at any moment.

Kaito • Kaito knows you love it when he makes you something, so he spoils you with plenty of sweets whenever he has time to bake for you. Missing desserts from your homeland? He’ll surprise you with them as soon as he finds a good recipe. • He’ll take many photos of you and the two of you together. While part of him loves to show off, it’s mostly because he still can’t quite believe you and he are real. Your relationship is still beyond his imagination, so he treasures every photo when you’re not with him. • He remembers every detail about you and is always looking for ways to surprise you. Love ice cream? Prepare to visit every renowned ice cream parlor in Tokyo—he’ll take you to all of them. • And of course, you won’t be able to escape his constant messages. He always wants to know what you’re doing and how you’re feeling, not out of worry or jealousy, but because he genuinely cares (though he’s no stranger to those feelings either).

Alan • Do I even need to mention how often he’ll pat your head? • He always checks how you’re doing and makes sure you have everything you need. He’ll also always offer to let you sleep in his T-shirts when you stay over. He just loves seeing you in his oversized clothes, and though he’d never say it out loud, the smile on his face when he sees you in his sleepwear says it all. • His sweetest way of showing affection is his almost casual request for you to join him in nearly everything he does. He loves having you around. Even if you’re not into physical activities like he is, he doesn’t mind—he just wants to be near you. • Wherever you are, Alan will seek your physical closeness. Sometimes, you’re not even sure if he’s doing it consciously or if his feelings just naturally draw him to you. Whether it’s an arm around your waist, moving closer on the couch, or casually holding your hand, he always seeks contact.

Sho • For Sho, love truly comes through food. So rest assured, you’ll never go hungry if this man is yours. Lucky you. • Though Leo is his best friend, he will never allow anyone, not even him, to badmouth you. Never, ever. No one—absolutely no one—touches his sweet girlfriend. • Sho will often give you small gifts in the form of jewelry. Nothing overly expensive, but always something unique. Seeing you wear it makes him incredibly happy, so you’d better wear it, because it’s also his way of marking you as his own. • Though he’d never admit it, Sho actually enjoys public displays of affection. He’s proud to have you by his side, and when you reach for his hand, he’ll pretend he’s only letting it happen for your sake, to make you more comfortable. In reality, his heart is always racing when you do.

Leo

Leo could only accept a partner who is on equal footing with him. That's why he can actually be very sweet in a relationship when he wants to.

Naturally, the maximum amount of physical affection in public will be displayed, as long as you allow it. After all, the world needs to see what a great relationship you two have. It’s a wonder you haven’t yet shared a French kiss on campus. He definitely enjoys making your admirers jealous.

But of course, he’s only doing this for the show and for the clicks when he films you both. It has nothing to do with the fact that he maximally enjoys your closeness and can’t get enough of you. Never. How could you come up with such silly ideas?

He will shower you with gifts that he "just happened to buy somewhere." Does this have anything to do with the fact that he actually listens to you and explicitly searches for things you like and that he hopes will make you happy? Such nonsense.

Haru

Despite his strict schedule, Haru will never miss the chance to show you how much you mean to him.

Every now and then, you'll get messages from him asking where you are, only for him to show up shortly after with all kinds of stuff. Surely, you've forgotten to drink enough today, right? Don’t worry, he’ll take care of you.

You’ll also receive sweet messages from him every day. At first, he’s a bit overwhelmed with flirting properly, but eventually, he gets the hang of it and showers you with subtle love declarations.

Speaking of love declarations: when he sees you on campus, he won’t miss the chance to greet you with a hug and a kiss on the forehead. He doesn't care if others see you.

Towa

Towa is a true romantic. He understands the language of flowers like no other. So, be prepared to receive numerous flowers from him. He takes the effort to present you with a special one every day, just to emphasize how unique you are to him.

He doesn't care what people around you think. He will hug and kiss you in public whenever the mood strikes.

Towa is a good listener, and even though he's not necessarily good with words, he always knows how you feel and what you need at that moment. If it's peace, he'll leave you alone; if it’s closeness, he'll whisk you away to a quiet spot and hold you in his arms until time forces you back to reality.

Wherever you go together, he'll want to hold your hand. It’s important to him to have you by his side at all times.

Ren

Ren is more the type for subtle expressions of love. So, a keen sense of perception is needed if you don't want to starve from lack of affection in a relationship with him.

The most noticeable thing for an attentive observer is Ren's smile when he's around you. He always seems much more relaxed when you’re there, and you're probably the only person who’s ever made him laugh.

In public, he wouldn’t dare show any affection, but when you're alone, he craves your touch. Even though he'll always claim you're the one who wants it and he’s simply complying with your wishes.

He also loves playing with your hair during your evening movie nights. Not having to ask for head massages definitely has its perks.

Romeo

Usually, it's Romeo who receives affection, but even he sometimes gets overwhelmed by longing, and everyone around can see how much you mean to him — and that no one should mess with you because of that.

Romeo is possessive. It’s no different with his partner. You belong to him alone, and everyone who even thinks about getting too close to you should know that. That’s why you're probably the only person on the planet who’s allowed to touch him in public without getting punched.

He lets you sit on his lap in his office when you're talking, and he makes no effort to let you go when one of his lackeys enters the room. After all, everyone knows you belong to him.

You also don’t need to worry about not being stylish enough for Romeo. He'll make sure your wardrobe is perfectly aligned with his. Expect a complete makeover. You won't recognize yourself — in a good way.

Taiga

Regardless of his moods, Taiga is definitely a physical type. This means that he loves to show his affection through hugs and kisses of all kinds, as long as you let him. His lap is your second home.

He may not be greedy or superficial, but he has taken a liking to showering you with gifts. Though, in most cases, you’d better not know where they came from.

Depending on whether you’re okay with it, he’ll either nibble on your ear and cover your neck with kisses when you two are alone. He just loves it.

He practically lets you move into his room because, as his good luck charm, he always wants to have you near.

Ritsu

The first thing anyone who knows Ritsu even a little would notice is the fact that he doesn’t talk to you like a potential client, but actually like his girlfriend. Even though he would never, ever talk to you in a childish manner or give you pet names in public. That’s simply not his style, love or no love.

Ritsu has good manners and knows from several sources that it’s proper to take a lady out to dinner. So, he regularly dresses up and takes you to the finest restaurants Tokyo has to offer.

Since he wants to be taken seriously as a lawyer, he refrains from physical contact in public. But since he still wants people to recognize you as his love, it’s acceptable to link arms with him.

Though he seems rather stiff, he does enjoy hugging and kissing you. It should just happen in private.

Haku

Haku is an incorrigible charmer and will shower you with compliments anytime, although you often have to read between the lines of his jokes to find them. However, the longer you're together, the more serious he becomes with his compliments.

Physical closeness is something Haku finds very comforting, so he loves holding hands or walking with his arm around you.

He also won’t hesitate to kiss you passionately in public. Of course, he’ll refrain from doing so if it makes you uncomfortable.

Additionally, he regularly invites you on dates, making an effort to keep them as varied as possible. By the way, long walks are not considered actual dates for him but rather a standard activity.

Subaru

Due to his stigma and his rather reserved nature, Subaru will initially refrain from showing affection through physical closeness. Instead, he expresses his feelings in a more subtle way through many small gestures.

Even though he values having enough personal space for both of you, he places great importance on seeing or at least hearing from you every day. If you couldn’t meet during the day, he will call you at night to wish you goodnight.

Another way he shows his affection is by sharing his memories and feelings with you. Normally, he doesn't like talking about himself, but with you, it feels so natural to share his deepest thoughts that he doesn't mind at all.

Whenever there's an event he thinks you might enjoy, he’ll make sure to arrange everything so you can attend together. After all, he wants to make sure you're happy and that you experience lots of things together, helping you grow closer.

Zenji

Zenji is a master of words and will primarily express his affection verbally, especially when there are no other alternatives. This might be in the form of poems or songs that he has written exclusively for you, meant only for your ears.

He’ll also always keep you company whenever you need it. He loves staying up with you late into the night, talking about everything under the sun until you fall asleep. Seeing you so peacefully and safely in bed is the greatest gift for him.

You'll often find little hidden notes from him, wishing you a good day, asking for a smile, reciting a short poem, or revealing his feelings. You usually discover them much later because he hides them so well.

Wherever you go, he will watch over you. Even though he may no longer be able to protect you himself, he’ll make sure you’re safe.

Rui

Rui’s days of physical affection are unfortunately behind him, so he has had to find new ways to express his feelings. His first idea was to gift you a small teddy bear, which you can cuddle whenever you feel the urge to hold Rui instead.

If you’ve managed to convince him to enter a relationship, he will generally want you to have something that shows you're taken. So, he'll gift you some sort of special piece of jewelry — most likely a ring. Although Rui's the one constantly surrounded by admirers, he's the one who is deeply afraid of losing you because he believes you're too good for him.

Rui is incredibly attentive and can literally read your wishes from your eyes. If it's within his power, he’ll fulfill them. This also means he always knows how you’re feeling, as he can read you like a book. So be careful what you're thinking!

When you're out together, he gives his full attention to you alone. Even though he may use his usual charm when approached by others, especially women, he never gives you any reason to worry.

Ed

Usually, Ed is the type who craves attention and affection, but he’s also capable of expressing his own feelings.

Social conventions matter little to him, as he doesn’t see himself as part of society. So, you can expect him to show affection at any time or place — whether through hugs, kisses, or his hands wandering elsewhere on your body. That is, if you allow it.

You’re never quite sure if he actually wants to bite you, but he loves passionately kissing along your neck. The fact that he rarely breathes during this makes the situation just as eerie as it is arousing.

He regularly texts you about how much he misses you and what a cruel person you are for leaving an old man alone. After all, he always wants you by his side, no matter what you’re doing together. It’s more than clear that he finds you far more interesting than he would ever admit.

Lyca

Lyca is known for having no experience with women, let alone relationships. Therefore, he reacts quite shyly to anything you do involving physical contact, making it difficult for him to initiate gestures himself.

If you do anything that even remotely puts you in danger, he’ll call you an "idiot." He worries about you practically every second, so don’t hold it against him.

He’s trying his best to live among humans, so he observes people a lot. On campus, he watches couples and tries to pick up certain behaviors from them. Depending on the couple, this can be more or less awkward. Shy attempts to hold your hand, sharing lunch, or stroking your hair — he’s really doing his best to make things work between you.

Most of all, he shows his affection by wanting you to accompany him everywhere, especially when he’s discovering something new. You’re meant to be part of his journey toward humanity.

If you enjoy his drawings, he’ll be more than happy to paint anything you ask him to.

Yuri

Yuri is a very passionate man when it comes to his work and research. However, when it comes to dealing with women, he lacks much experience. Still, his innate enthusiasm for you is definitely in your favor.

He will gradually involve you more in his work, asking you to help him in the lab whenever possible so you can extend your already-too-short time together. He’ll even send Jiro away more often just so you two can be alone.

Whenever Yuri makes a significant discovery or feels proud of an accomplishment, he becomes filled with energy that he needs to release. He'll pick you up, spin you around, and then give you a passionate kiss before turning back to his work. Only after a few moments does he realize what just happened, as you can see from his blushing cheeks — always an adorable sight.

Despite his tight schedule, he’ll try to regularly take a night off to have dinner with you. He understands that variety is key to keeping a relationship alive.

Jiro

Jiro initially struggles to identify his feelings for you, so you'll need to be patient if you want to feel his affection.

He’s not a man of many words, so you're more likely to experience physical affection from him. Once he’s had a taste of you, he’ll want more of that sweet feeling. Why does his heart beat so fast when you touch him? Why can’t he think clearly when your hands brush his cheek? Why do his knees go weak when he feels your skin touching his own? These are all things he needs to thoroughly experiment with to understand the obvious cause.

The most beautiful thing for him is your smile. He’ll do anything to bring it out — whether through jokes, gestures, or giving you flowers. He quickly learns how to behave in ways that get the desired reaction from you.

He’ll also ask you to do ordinary things with him, such as eating or cleaning or activities that foster a deeper relationship. Very soon into your relationship, he’ll realize that everything is better with you by his side.

[mskenway97]

Bot in flames

I have been wanting to write this for a long time and I started thinking about heat cycles in robots.

My mind was focused on bayverse optimus prime and I came up with all this.

Forgive me but I couldn't help but want to XD.

Bayverse Optimus Prime X Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: You are a new mechanic working at NEST after the problems in Egypt, you became very close to the autobot leader, until one moment he started to avoid you, the rest of autobots warnning to you. Until you find out why.

Occurs between revenge of the fallen and dark of the moon.

Words: 2,451

Warnings: heat cycles, belly budge, cumflation, masturbation, multiple orgasm, size difference,possessive, g/t

You had always been interested in technology, you had gone into mechanics although many people would not take you seriously in what you were doing. Until you started seeing something that caught your attention, the Mission City events.

A lot of people said it was a lie, a hoax… Other websites said they had witnesses and testimonies about giant robots. You tried to see more images but nothing.

Everything seemed to be a lie until a giant robot appeared on your TV telling you that you were not alone, that there were more beings in the galaxy. That even though everyone was scared, you were more interested but you were just a mechanic, no matter how much you wanted to meet them you were not going to find them, until you received a letter because of your knowledge, they were needed at the base of NEST.

They blindfolded you and put you in a black car without asking, like the movies, the ride was a bit long until you got to an interrogation room, showing if you had a criminal record, not to reveal the information here without ending up dead. Once finished they took you outside a huge hangar and put you on hold, until a middle-aged man who seemed to be the general, came to pick you up in person.

-Y/N, General Lennox we have seen that your knowledge in mechanics and your project of coexistence between machines and humans is unique. I'm just telling you try to stay calm, you're going to be surrounded by autobots. The first time is usually a surprise.

He wasn't lying when he took me to another hangar with huge beings of different sizes looking at you. I had a feeling of nervousness, butterflies and above all that he would not try to give me a heart attack. It was one thing to see fuzzy pictures on the web sites you had seen and another to see them in person…. Besides your height was not the tallest, you literally understood how the ants felt.

You saw the biggest of them all approaching, it seemed to be the leader, with red and blue flames, with what looked like parts of a truck, despite your situation it seemed interesting to you.

-Y/N, my name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots…. It is a pleasure to meet you, we read your project, it caught our attention, in part we need more human allies that promise us their commitment. If you decide to leave I will understand your motives but if you stay you will be apprenticed to one of our best doctors as well as learning about the coexistence you seek. Do we have your word?

You were trying to calm down when you saw that huge being kneeling in front of you and the rest of them looking at you, seeing that your nervous system was somewhat altered by the situation. Trying to calm down until you felt Lennox's hand on your shoulder as they were waiting for your answer.

You nodded as your mouth had gone dry trying to speak, the giant black robot was amused by your nervousness, he moved closer showing his cannons causing you to stumble to the ground, making him laugh.

-I like this squishy…. I'm going to like working with you

Well in the rest of the news they started to introduce you to the rest of the team, you already knew names like Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Sidewispe, etc. And the rest of the facilities, they put you in charge of working with Ratchet.

The weeks of adaptation were somewhat curious, as you were startled by every scare the twins and Sidewispe gave you.

Ratchet carefully taught you the systems of a robot to take care of them carefully: you learned the different parts of the body of a cybertronian, Ironhide taught you the workings of the weapons although his demonstrations still scared you so much firepower that you reflexively hid behind his leg.

Your favorite sessions were with Optimus, even though he was the biggest of them all, he was very nice to you… You started to get a little more trusting as you told each other about different experiences. He told you about his culture, his planet… You were more and more interested, he was also interested in your customs, your history. Besides, I know that his way of treating you was to carry you in his servos with care, sometimes he was contemplating, with his finger he touched your cheek, it was a strange contact but you felt quite comfortable. He had also put you on his shoulder. You didn't know if it was friendship you had with this bot, but you were happy to finally have a confidant.

You had been in NEST for a few months now, you learned quickly but there was something that had been bothering you in the last week about the behavior of a certain autobot leader.

At first it seemed to you that he was stressed out from the missions in order to find Megatron but every time you were near an Autobot he would get sideways and also with the humans you were working with. You don't talk like before either, every time you tried to talk to him alone he would disappear saying he had something else to do. This was starting to bother you a lot but with the meetings you didn't have the time or the moment.

-Y/N aren't paying attention to the lessons���. - Ratchet said as he tapped me on his digit.

-Sorry, Ratchet, I just had something else on my mind.

-You should be focused on where you are right now. Although I guess it's about Optimus right?

You were surprised to see that the doc bot had guessed it. Seeing your expression, he laughed at you a little.

-It's obvious, everyone at the base is aware of you… The truth is, we haven't seen Optimus happy with someone in millennia.

You sighed as I grabbed the tools and went to work on one of Ironhide's weapons.

-I don't understand his behavior lately… He's been acting so strange, I'm worried.

Ratchet cleared his throat as he became serious while forcing you to look at him with his digits on your chin - This business you should stay out of, y/n. He'll get over it, just try not to be alone with him.

You didn't understand why Ratchet gave you that advice you tried, he looked at you again - Believe me y/n, it's best to keep your distance from Optimus for now.

There was something you didn't understand about what was going on, you asked the rest of the Autobots about it, almost everyone gave you fuzzy answers about what was happening to the autobot leader, until you got to Ironhide who gave you another warning that left you even more surprised.

-Squishy, there are some things you shouldn't meddle with no matter how curious you are. Although if you solve your doubts I wish you luck so you can get out of it - said Ironhide

You were thoughtful about everything you had heard from the autobots, you missed Optimus since the last few months you had felt an attachment to the autobot leader that went beyond friendship with him. You admitted that you had fallen in love with that big guy with blue optics, his kindness, his authority and obviously his height and figure.

Although you were still curious about what was going on, you decided to follow the advice of the autobots not to be alone with the autobot leader for the time being. You were succeeding but every time you entered a room his gaze followed you everywhere. You literally felt like cat and mouse, there would come a time when cat would end up getting what he wanted even though you didn't know what.

Until one day when you were almost ready to leave because you had overstayed your welcome at the base, you heard a noise in the hangars.

Lennox and the military team explained to you that the farthest hangars of the base were for storage or special equipment for both autobots and humans. Something in your instincts told you that you should not go there but you decided to go out of curiosity, you opened the big door carefully, that place was dark so you stepped carefully not to touch anything dangerous.

Your nerves were on edge and the adrenaline was the only thing that kept you moving, you were getting closer to the source of the noise, at the same time you were seeing that there was smoke around, making this put you more alert than before, it was clear that you were not alone in this place.

You came to see a dim light at the back of the warehouse, it was difficult to pass with so many boxes around but you passed as you could. Finally you arrived carefully at the origin where you were surprised to see who was there.

It was Optimus, with his exhaust pipes producing smoke while on a large part of his body there was a pink liquid around his body.

You were about to approach to see if he was okay but you stopped when you heard him…

He was moaning?

He was at the same time rubbing what seemed to be his spike, while there was even more transfluid.

You remembered certain lessons that gave you some embarrassment from Ratchet. You were trying to remember but seeing the leader like that made you tingle. You shook your head it was clear you were not supposed to be here. You were going to tread carefully until you heard him moaning your name….

You tried to leave carefully until you bumped into one of the crates making a lot of noise.

-Who's there?" growled the autobot leader.

You tried to hide quickly only to feel a servo around your body. You closed your eyes, you were trembling at the sight.

-Look at me...

You opened your eyes to see how it was caressing you with its digits. - How long have you been here? - asked the autobot leader.

That tone made you shiver, it didn't seem like Optimus was the one he was talking to.

- I haven't seen anything, I'll leave without bothering...

-No... I've been avoiding this situation for the past few weeks, feeling jealous of the rest that came close to you and what hurts me the most is that you started avoiding me. My y/n... This time, you are going to stay by my side.

You didn't understand what was happening, until two of his fingers were touching your thighs making you shudder.

- You know how much I wanted you, your kindness and curiosity. Your smile, your beauty... and your figure. Oh Primus, my spike was begging to enter your body. To make you mine... I know you want it too

You moaned again, as you felt the pressure on your thighs... you were starting to feel hot I knew you should stop but at the same time you wanted to know where I wanted to go.

His optics were watching you seeing a smile on your face.

-Well I see that you agree....

Then you felt his glossa lick your neck and then kiss you while continuing the pressure on your thighs. Right now you were reacting to several streams of pleasure that you never thought was possible.

His digits removed your pants while he kept kissing you and you felt his glossa tasting your taste.

You moaned as you felt a digit around your entrance.

-I'm just preparing your body for the best part... let yourself go, my little one," he whispered in your ear as you felt his digit touching your insides moving up and down making you moan in different ways for the leader's pleasure while he whispered how much he wanted you, he loved you madly but at the same time he didn't want to scare you away.

You moaned again as you looked up at him.

- Then you too... - you said between moans as he digit around your walls.

-Yes... I love you and I need you...

You climaxed as he pulled out his digit and licked it. He smiled at you as you caught your breath. You thought you were going to rest but you saw he was bringing his spike closer.

-We're not done yet... I want to feel you more... Mine all mine

You were going to protest but you felt his spike enter inside of you and saw a big bulge through your body. He started to move slowly.

-You are so tight

As you gasped as you tried to take it, it overcame the digit. Once he adjusted to your body he began to move faster and faster and you both gasped at the same pace. He was about to climax, you fell in as he could.

-Wait I can't... ah! It's going to be too much.

-Ah! -Easy... i can't out! Ah! Oh Primus! - gasped Optimus as well.

You both climaxed as you felt your body fill with the transfluid.

Your belly completely swollen as he carefully removed his spike while some transfluid fell out.

-That was... Intense - you said while touching your belly - What happened to you?

Optimus kissed your forehead as he placed you close to his chest.

- We have heat cycles something your species would say in heat, I couldn't take it anymore.... I should have done it sooner though, my little one.

You smiled and I snuggled close.

-Then I won't move away next time.

Optimus chuckled and held you close.

You had learned a lesson from the heat cycles, something that was not to be the last time.

[catgirl-kaiju]

something worth pointing out in the case of Tumblr CEO @photomatt 's statement regarding predstrogen is the very clear side stepping of the conversation being had. the ask he chose to respond to as part of his statement was asking about tumblr's transmisogyny problem, and what he is commenting on is tumblr's transphobia problem.

transmisogyny is certainly related to transphobia, but the two are not the same. i've seen plenty of trans folks who are guilty of transmisogyny and have even been harassed by such individuals on this very website. he repeatedly refers to transphobia and accusations of tumblr staff being transphobes throughout the statement, but never once brings up transmisogyny. perhaps he is unfamiliar with the term, but he could look it up and read up on it before responding to a question directly asking about it. he is very clearly not doing his due diligence in addressing these concerns.

he mentions tumblr having "LGBT+ including trans people on staff," but this is not especially helpful in assessing tumblr's transmisogyny problem. based on this we don't know how many trans people, whether or not there any transfem or TMA folks (who might understand the nature of transmisogyny better than TME people) on staff, what positions these queer people hold in the company, or whether or not any of tumblr's queer employees are on the moderation team. and it's understandable why some of these specifics are left out; you don't want to put any staff members in danger of being doxxed or harassed, especially if they're vulnerable marginalized people. however, it seems to me a gross oversight to not mention if there are any trans folks working on the moderation team.

i think it's also a huge misstep to focus on predstrogen so singularly when the conversation about her account being nuked is part of a larger conversation about transmisogyny. what this reveals, too, is transmisogyny playing an active role in the decision to ban her for life. one of the aspects of transmisogyny is viewing transfem folks as especially and uniquely dangerous. i'd like @photomatt to ask himself if he would have taken "threats" like the one cited as seriously if they came from a cis person or a TME trans person. really reflect on that, Matt. i also put "threat" in scare quotes here because, frankly, it's pretty clear that said comment is a cartoonish and outlandish example of violence used to demonstrate that the intent to harm is not literal. i do this all the time both on here and in real life. telling a friend i'm going to "maul them to death" over a minor annoyance is a comedic way of expressing frustration in a way that communicates it's not actually a big deal. saying something like "i want them to explode after falling down the stairs when trying to evade a falling piano full of knives" about a public figure or someone who is negatively affecting your life works as a way of demonstrating the intensity of your feelings while not veering into territory where it sounds like you're literally planning an assassination attempt. if you're reading this, Matt, i hope you can begin to understand the difference between something like:

and a real actual harassment, like:

y'know, all actual comments and posts i've received on this website, and reported with detailed explanations for why i'm reporting them but never heard back from the moderation team about the situation. i have no idea if anything was ever done about any of these people sending me bigoted violent messages because no one ever does follow-up. the only time i've ever received follow-up on a report was when i reported an account for promoting self-harm in the form of anorexia. that's it. one time in the over a decade i've been on this website.

how does all of this sit with you, Matt?

[topazadine]

Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!