#and it was literally about me self harming. because like. you bleed just to know you're alive.

[year2000electronics]

Ford is such a fascinately flawed character, If he not keep in check he unintentionally brings ruin to everyone around him.

this is literally how i feel talking about ford. ^

because dont get me wrong at many times i am a ford defender when people slander him for the wrong reasons, but also a lot of the time i will be like "YOUR HONOUR HE DID THAT SHIT AND I THINK HE WAS HOT WHEN HE DID IT" and then at other times i will be like "YOUR HONOUR HE DID THAT SHIT AND ISNT IT AMAZING THAT SUCH A COMPLEX AND FLAWED CHARACTER IS NOT DEMONIZED AND VILLAINIZED BY THE NARRATIVE BUT INSTEAD GIVEN A CHANCE TO GROW". so a lot of the time i just end up walking in circles rotating him a lot because i end up wanting to play devils advocate from like literally every angle of "so how much harm did ford do Really"

but i think when you look at ford in the show, hes a very interesting character, specifically because he's this very "loadbearing" character. he's the author, so he has to be the driving force behind the mystery, but he also has to have met and have ended things badly with mcgucket, so we have their falling-out as a tease to the mystery. we need him to cause conflict in the show thanks to his arrival, so he'll do some unlikable things like punch stan and demand his house back and offer dipper the apprenticeship. but he cant be TOO unlikeable because this is a member of the family stan has fought for 30 years to get back, and he also needs to be integrated as Officially A Pines in the VERY limited time we have with him on screen. not only that, but you have to explain his entire backstory in one episode where he harms and is mean to a character who has had two seasons' worth of love behind him SEVERAL TIMES. but you also need to make us feel for him, and you have to make stan's part of the conflict sting too. and THEN! ON TOP! OF ALL! THAT! YOU ALSO NEED TO PAY-OFF THE SETUP YOU HAD OF BILL CIPHER AND THE AUTHOR'S MYSTERIOUS RELATIONSHIP!

and so a lot of the time what i end up thinking is yes, ford is flawed. yes, he can be really callous and unfeeling at times. but i think because he's constantly needing to carry like 10 different plot elements on his back at once, constantly needing to drive conflict along, he ends up being really divisive to people- especially since he has no time to just goof off like everyone else!

so i circle back to this idea of ford as the "ruin-bringer". i think about that wording most meticulously. because that walks this VERY delicate line between saying something about fords character, his flaws, his backstory, and dipping right into "omg lets blame ford for EVERYTHINGGG!" but you think a lot about ford and his self-isolation and his EGO and the way he lifts himself above others both out of pride and out of shame.

ford is almost doing that to himself, really. making himself this common denominator black hole that people keep getting sucked into. because he is of the opinion that there are Special People who need to rise above, he ends up either isolating himself or isolating others to Join Him on the Path. and obviously that in and of itself is a gesture of companionship, of reaching out, because he says "i see the same greatness in you that i do myself"! but of course there IS no secret hidden greatness! so its all inherently flawed! you cant be rising above simply because youre "special" and you "deserve it"! but "special" is the only thing ford knows how to be!

ford is deeply hurting i guess. he seems deeply hurt the way that stan does to me, where everything he does just BLEEDS his trauma. you can see it staining everything. stan's need for companionship and ford's self-isolation. ford's hurting and he needs a healthy outlet but he has a path of destruction in his wake. and that just makes it so much crazier

[lqnar]

romanticizing your own mental illness is understandable, but somebody else's??? die

[scarletcomet]

i found out that my dad has cancer today and im on the floor crying about my hw

[animentality]

special announcement time

alright everyone.

at long last, i have finished polishing my latest writing project, a horror romcom fantasy novel (94k words), and am looking for beta readers to tell me what they think of it.

but not only that...

i am also interested in beta swapping.

sooooooooo.

if you got an ongoing fanfic, if you've got a novel of your own...or any other kind of big writing project, or web comic even, that you want eyes on...dm me or send me an ask (or reply to this post, I'll reach out).

i have turned on dms and replies for this purpose.

it can be pretty much any length and any genre, about anything. i don't mind any experience level either, whether you've never written anything at all, or have been doing it for years. i can help aspiring authors (trad or indie), fanfic authors who want to participate in fan events/post to AO3, people who don't want to share their work with the public...

i'll read sci fi, fantasy, horror, historical, contemporary, romance. porn. any genre, with any audience (YA, MG, adult, whatever).

but also, you know. we don't have to swap. if you just wanna read it, that's perfectly alright too. summary here, so you can see if you'd be interested.

Warnings: Graphic violence, child death (death of an infant), self-harm (because their powers are blood-based, and they need to self harm in order to use them), implied sexual assault/incest (not graphic), animal death (a lot of it), and oh yeah, sex scenes. this is an adult romantasy. adult.

anyway.

here:

In a world ravaged by war between the old gods and the new, demigods sow chaos and discord wherever they go, destined to be either legendary heroes or fearsome villains. But Marrow is not like other demigods. They are the child of the god of blood and slaughter, born with only one purpose: to kill in their savage father’s name, and bleed the entire world dry. The one problem? 

The only living creature they want to kill is their father.

But Marrow has been imprisoned within their temple for their entire life, unable to realize that dream…until now. A deal with a devil allows them to escape, making their way into a hostile world they know little about- and matters are not helped by the fact that their father can use their eyes to see what they're seeing at any time. To keep him from seeing their location, Marrow must remained blindfolded. But Marrow, an eternal optimist, won’t let their lack of vision stop them from fulfilling their lifelong dream. 

The demigod hunter might, however. Arlo Ren is a member of the Razor Watch, a religious order dedicated to the goddess of the hunt. He is clever, but impulsive, eager to prove himself to his goddess by capturing powerful prey. Soon after meeting Marrow by chance, and discovering what they are, he sees his opportunity and refuses to let it go. Literally. The demigod hunter handcuffs the demigod to his side, and swears to sacrifice them in his god’s name. Luckily for him, Marrow is an inexperienced, blind pacifist, who needs him to guide them through a dangerous, unknown world. They fully intend to escape him eventually. But perhaps a demigod and a demigod hunter have more in common than they might think. Perhaps they might even need each other...but they will, at the very least, need to learn how to live, work, and fight together as they are relentlessly chased by Marrow’s powerful demigod siblings, all hoping to kill their youngest sibling and please the god they abandoned. 

So yeaaaah. DM or replied or whatever if interested. We can chat some more in discord or on Tumblr (but I'm faster on discord).

[codemiracle]

Can you please tell me the backstory of the ocs...they are so gorgeous omg...thank u !!!...

My first ask... omg....!! (tries to seem calm about it) Thank u for asking!!! I'm glad you like them :((<3 The backstory of my ocs is still mostly a wip even to me (i change my mind often about things, especially when my mind fixates on different topics) But I can tell you more about the two ocs in this post here. tw: mentions of death, stalking, unhealthy behavior, dark stuff overall, and mentions of self-harm on Yuuta's part. (All of the images used here are CGs for the game.)

Yuuta is a deeply troubled person. His mother died when he was very young and he's been dealing with the loss of literally his only parental figure since (his father is literally the leader of a pyramid scheme cult and doesn't know about his existence) He despises how fragile humans can be and since then he tries to understand his own mortality through inflicting pain upon his own body. His mother died due to an illness he also has, an illness that causes parts of his body to suddenly get badly bruised or bleed without warning, his blood is really thin so stopping bleeding is hard for him too. He eventually finds some escape from his solitude exploring his darker side by meeting the MC (the character you control in the game) He gets deeply obsessed with them since he finds that inflicting pain on them (don't worry it's all consensual) is more relieving than doing it to himself. He loves the feeling of power it gives him, the feeling of a life hanging in between his fingers. And this time he won't let go so easily. He might be a little bit of a sharp-tongued person and sometimes can seem pretty harsh with people and even the MC, but it's due to the fear of losing someone again. When he really really gets into you he won't let you go, that's for sure. He can't let go of someone again.

Yotsuya it's quite the opposite of Yuuta, he doesn't hide his true feelings behind a mask of hatred and coldness, instead, he's a more shy but polite person, much more pleasant to be around tbh. But don't let that fool you. He has his own inner turmoil too. He's been following the MC for a while now (for unknown reasons) and seems pretty fixated on them, taking the same train as them after work, trying to make small talk as they bump into each other in conveniently the same places. He's always stressed from work, often you can find him just crying outside his workplace while he smokes (like in the drawing) or standing eerily quiet in the dark of night in the middle of the street. Not much is now about Yotsuya, but the fact he truly despises cheaters, often making remarks about cheating culture and hating on people who cheat on their partners. He seems to know the MC from somewhere else but refuses to say where they met the first time. Doesn't seem to have any connections or family, living alone in some simple apartment. I can't tell you much about him because I want you to discover who the "True" Yotsuya is (that's the point of his route.) But I can tell you, this guy isn't anything like it seems, he's quite the opposite of his sweet and shy persona when he's inside his home. That's his place, his playing field so to speak. He's no longer the meek office worker, but his true self.

Sorry, that was so much text.... and I feel like I didn't say anything interesting... feel free to ask if you need to know anything else!

<3

[jackdaniel69nice]

Another tokoyami bird traits post because I’m crazy

Birds have very little sense of smell so he’s got a very weak olfactory system.

Birds can’t taste capsaicin so they can’t taste spiciness. Tokoyami’s food is a bit bland to some because he never really adds any to it. On the other hand he’s one of the only people that can handle bakugo’s curry. I’m going to go out on a limb and say dark shadow can’t taste spice either.

Tokoyami has shown minor territorial traits when it comes to letting people in his room. This can be explained with him being shy but I’m going to take it a step further. I think his room is like a safe space for him and he is very paranoid about people stealing things. He HATES when things get moved around and panics if he loses something so he gets very aggressive if someone tries to touch his stuff. He also has problems with being vulnerable and having people see his things because it lets them know his interests and he hates that. Do not sit on his bed without permission. He also has food anxiety so do not touch his food in the fridge or you will die. Dark shadow is even worse about this but they keep all their stuff under the bed so as long as you stay out of there you’ll be fine.

To add onto this tokoyami also has nesting tendencies. Unfortunately Tokoyami’s mother discouraged this behavior and tried to keep him from doing it. When he was little he would make his nests under the bed because it was well protected and dark. Eventually he outgrew the bed space and moved it to the back of his closet. He still has anxiety about someone finding one of his nests so it’s very small (literally only one blanket) and he keeps his closet door locked. Dark shadow still has their nest under the bed. Tokoyami only allows himself to be in his nest if he’s having a breakdown and needs comfort. It’s sad that he denies himself basic needs because of how he was raised.

Alright this one’s a little crazy but I think it would be cool if he had two stomachs. The first stomach is pretty normal, maybe it has a gizzard component so he can digest bones. But the other one is a crop so he can carry extra food to digest later, this would make sense because of his fast metabolism and he wouldn’t need to stop to eat so much. This entire thing was inspired by joke in the light novels where they said tokoyami has a “second stomach” for anything apple related XD

Do not get me started on dark shadows digestive system I have no idea how that works. They drank in the light novels that’s all I know. I guess the stuff just disappears, unless they don’t want it too.

Tokoyami’s beak perpetually grows so he has to file it down, I’ve heard you can use certain bones to do that so that’s kinda badass B)

I’ve seen a lot of debate about whether or not tokoyami has feathers or hair and my pick is both. His feathers don’t have a hollow shaft like hawk’s does and continually grows out of his head like hair. They still have the general shape of a feather though and need to be taken care of in a similar manner. The shaft is stronger than normal hair so it sticks up when it’s shorter but it’s still flexible and won’t break. Dark shadow is responsible for all preening fumikage would be useless without them. New feather growth is still covered in a sheathing that needs to be removed. Since it grows continuously it needs to be cut and shaped, dark shadow does this with their beak. During training all kinds of dirt blood and sweat will get in his feathers so he uses a special shampoo hawks recommend to him (hawks is unfortunately on the front of the bright red bottle).

This last part is a bit sad and has some trigger warnings I guess (tw self harm, hair pulling, eating disorders). Birds don’t do well with stress and tokoyami has some bad habits because of that. He will pull his feathers and bite his nails down to the bed until they bleed. He also has trouble eating and simply won’t do it when he’s too stressed. If he did eat and has a panic attack it might come back up. He was very underweight growing up from constant stress and was malnourished because of it. He has been a lot better about these things since coming to UA and even tries to follow a strict eating schedule but he still has bad days where he may skip several meals a day. You can almost always convince him to eat an apple or white rice tho (safe foods my beloved~). He wears special nail polish to keep him from biting his nails. If all else fails dark shadow doesn’t particularly like when he hurts himself and usually tries to intervene (sometimes their state of mind is in even worse shape though).

[whyyougottadothatbro]

what a drag to love you like I do...

L. Minho

Genre: angst without comfort. Lee Minho x reader.

Warnings: heavy angst, abandonment, neglect,underlying theme of family issues, vague mentions of self harm in the beginning(just once), reader experiencing long term emotional detachment with themselves and their surroundings. Let me know if I have missed any ♡

Word count: 2.9k~ words.

A/n: the world's biggest shout out to @operation-steal-chans-laptop for being the nicest bubby and reassuring me about this fic, they're the bestttt ♡♡♡♡

The usual comfort of Minho’s arms wrapped around yours felt suffocating in the few moments that followed after you’d step in your house. It was routine for you by then to come back to an empty house, so Minho’s sudden appearance almost felt foreign and out of place as he had practically stuffed his head in the crook of your neck. Minho’s kisses had been your favorite thing on the face of the planet, but you weren’t as sure of that statement anymore. His hold felt like a memory your brain purposefully erased without even ever telling you. Your body gravitated to it as it would have because that’s what you had started to identify and remember as home, but your brain saw it as the supermarket where your family had abandoned their 6 year-old daughter once, and hadn’t comeback till hours had passed and you were done bawling your eyes out and nothing but sniffles escaped your trembling lips. It was where you were abandoned and would be forgotten at again, and it was dangerous. Danger would usually send young little you into overdrive, making you fight for survival, but it made you feel numb now. The sirens would still blare, the headlights would still flash you in the eyes till they became unbearable and you had to close them inevitably, but now your hands didn’t raise up to protect your head from the damage anymore. Neither did you move, you just waited for it to come, run you over, and to render you lifeless again, but well the bleeding was never strong enough, the scars littered all over your body gave testimony for that. They bled, they bled often, reopening every now and then, but the bleeding was never strong enough, the cut wasn’t deep enough. Shallow cuts, shallow breathing, dizzy spells, and multiple pills, it didn’t bother you anymore.  

The art of numbing yourself to a majority portion of your life came with practice and well, consequences. While the consequences on the surface looked like zoning out in the middle of a conversation and a constant need for some sort of stimulation, they spread their ends deeper into your being and grasped their roots strongly into your entire existence. Chunks from your earlier years just literally gone like they never happened, emotions never lasting longer than a few fleeting moments, and most of it was fine. Sure, you didn’t feel as crazed and as deeply in love with your boyfriend as he was, you knew you loved him with everything that you could, but your everything felt so small against Minho’s smallest gestures of affection. It had never felt out of place for you to feel like the smaller person in all your personal relationship dynamics, of course you were made to believe and brought up that way. Breaking out of that habit with academics and your work had been easy, but personal relationships? That’s what the norm was. Everything the other person did was completely fine and you? Well, you weren’t even human enough so how dare you make a mistake?

But this time, it wasn’t.

You realized how you’d been up in your head for the past 5 minutes and Minho was still attached to your form while your hands laid limp by your side, body unmoving but your boyfriend of 3 years was yet to take a hint. Your hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders to give him a light pat on the back to acknowledge his presence, but his presence in itself had shaken you enough that your ability to process things had already boiled down to a quarter and maybe your brain was back at what it did best, numbing you so you couldn’t feel. 

“I didn’t expect you to be home, I’m sorry you had to clean up after me. Why didn’t you tell me earlier you were coming?” the silence had been too loud for the past 25 minutes. The same silence earlier would have been comfortable. Hums and nods with no words spoken till you both eased into the night was the norm, and probably one of the most possibly liberating experiences of your life but this, this what you were stuck in right now felt like ropes served to you on a silver platter that didn’t take your consent before wrapping itself around your throat and chest, constricting your airflow just enough to let you barely breathe. Your question brought Minho’s attention to yours again, his steps slow and calculated across the living room. Minho felt his heart feel as constricted as yours did when he realized you hadn’t picked a shirt of his to wear to bed how you usually did. He didn’t blame it on you, they probably didn’t smell like him anymore anyways.

Lee Know from Stray Kids was a busy busy man and that was the first obstacle one had to deal with when it came to dating him. Weeks spent with no physical trace of him other than being on your phones to keep up with each other. Texts unanswered for hours, calls going straight to the answering machine much more often than the average person’s ability to handle, a partner that was mostly exhausted and often not as emotionally available as the regular person would be but of course that was fine. You weren’t much of a texter anyway, and would rather deal with your problems on your own, and going out? Pfffft who wants to do that, when you could just stay in and order food to your doorstep, right...?

Things were great with Minho; sure it was also your first time seriously dating anyone after high school and maybe you didn’t really have much personal experience to compare your relationship with Minho to, but nothing had ever felt particularly wrong in your time with him. Minho steps up to you finally, hands restless against his sides so he just chooses to ruffle his hair instead, though he wishes he could just hold yours into his instead. He answers your questions when you prompt him to it with a raise of your eyebrows.

“yeah, I took a few days off, it’d been a while since I stayed home”

Home. You almost chuckled when he said that, but chose to acknowledge it with a light nod another hum in response. Your steps make way to the kitchen to search through for what you could whip up for your usual excuse of a dinner. Dinner with Minho was different though. Dinner with Minho when you both worked in the kitchen after a long week to make something hearty for the both of you, when you acted like his own sous-chef, finally sitting down to eat meals that spoke the most amount of love you could have possibly experienced. Maybe you didn’t experience love like Minho did, where he’d take fragments of memories and store them away as small trinkets of joy into his showcase of love that had your face all over it and he would just have to pick one memory from it to put a smile on his face on a bad or gloomy day. But you were sure you experienced love because he tried to give you his love and you would try your absolute hardest to not let go of his smile after he’d been pleasantly surprised with something new that he tried to make. You hoped your brain won’t let go of the memory of Minho’s smiles, so you’d made sure you smiled like him when you wore his earrings, the gentle weight feeling like his nose that would nudge your cheek on days he had off and you sadly didn’t . Even if your brain was loopy with things every now and then, your muscle memory would definitely do its job, Minho’s smiles weren’t just things you’d let your squeaky machine of a brain let go of so easily, they were your trinkets. 

Taking out leftovers of the previous night from the refrigerator, you pull out the saucepans to heat them up, of course for one. Minho hadn’t eaten at home in a while, well Minho hadn’t been home in a while. But even before that, Minho had almost stopped eating at home altogether for a good bunch of weeks to make you realise there wasn’t a point to cooking for 2 anymore. Dance practice would stretch late into the night, he had to work for the comeback, he was out with the boys so he ate with them, he was too exhausted so he crashed onto the bed the moment he was home, he was spending the weekend at the dorms because Music Core had been exhausting and Monday schedules looked too dreadful, Minho hadn’t simply eaten at home for almost 2 months till it was time and he left for tour again. Presuming he already ate wasn’t a bad presumption and Minho understood where all of that came from. He sighs as he notices the barely put together dinner you were now serving in your plate, movements sluggish and automated as you looked like you didn’t have a single thought in mind. 

Minho would be lying if he said he didn’t saw it coming and it definitely wasn’t his first time witnessing this. Every time the two of you ended up in a rough patch, you’d usually just say its fine, apologise to him for your mistakes, even if there weren’t any, and just grow distant for a few days till you eventually came back. And you did, you always did. But he couldn’t deny the creepy feeling that had his insides feel like they were all jumbled up and placed wrong. Like the elevator he was standing in had suddenly stopped and nobody had been answering the help bell. He knew the elevator would be back up and running in no time but he couldn’t avoid the ‘what if’s that had started to slowly creep up his body like vine. You play around with the food in your plate as the elephant in the room stares judgingly at the both of you, wondering when you’ll finally address it. 

“Baby I’m really sorry for what I did, I know it was really horrible on my end to do that, love…..” Minho reaches for your free hand, which lays limp in his hand for a few seconds, and then grabs his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. Your hand leaves his to busy itself with your plate of food again, head slowly nodding in response to his words. Minho was quick to realize that talking to you about what had happened would be the best approach rather than beating around the bush. Minho waits, and waits some more till you finished your meal and pushed your chair back to get up, the loud noise disrupting the eery silence that had settled over your house. Minho gets up as well, following behind you as you start on the dishes, because the thought of him doing the dishes like he once used to felt so strange and foreign, your brain had pushed you to finish them before he could even get to it. 

“y/n can you at least say something, get mad at me, shout just give me something hm?” he pleaded as he stood to your side. You were unresponsive again for a few seconds, and before Minho could say anything again, you finally address him,

“What am I even supposed to say Minho? What do you expect me to say to you?” you’re calm, surprisingly calm, too calm for his liking even. Minho’s face falls again, dejected as he looks at you eyes pleading as he’s at a loss of words again.

“y/n…”

“Minho can I ask you something?” you dry your hands on the kitchen towel as you face him again. His head hangs low again as he nods silently.

“this was probably one of the very few times I really needed you to be there for me Min. You’ve cancelled on dates, heck even forgotten and stood me up so many times, you’ve forgotten anniversaries, I never got mad or objected. This was the one time I needed you to be there for me.”

“y/n I know I fucked up-“ Minho looked up at you to see you teary-eyed again.

“Let me finish please, okay?” you’re still calm, your voice was watery as it was, breaking a bit too, but you were still, eerily calm.

“My parents were in the country for 4 days. I’ve dated you for 3 years, and all I asked for was maybe 3 hours at max for you to have dinner with them. What did you do? Ghost me completely? Avoid me after reassuring me that you were going to be there? Barely 2 hours in the span of 4 days, that’s all I asked for ... unbelievable”

“I know… I’m so so sorry what I did, I have no idea of even how to make it up to you” his tears had started to gather at the corner of his eyes while he blinked furiously to keep them at bay. He wasn’t the one who had been hurt in this entire situation and knew he needed to hear you first. His strong-willed composure almost breaks down when he hears your breath being caught in your throat as you heaved a bit.

“You know- “you sniffle again as your voice betrays you, breaking and causing you to cough, but you continue nevertheless. “You know what the worst part is? You’re one of the few parts of my life that I’m most proud of. I was so proud of you, of us, of what we have, I wanted to show you off to the people that have doubted me the most my whole fucking life. And you know what you did?” your composure starts cracking like a layer of ice frozen on top of a lake, the water underneath beginning to escape on to the surface, your index finger pointing at the centre of his chest,

“You. Fucking. Abandoned. Me.” Each word punctuated with a poke of your finger to his chest and Minho probably wanted to touch his chest to check for any bleeding because it as much as daggers to his chest would have. His uneasiness from earlier that had started at his gut, started to now feel like a cinder block that had been hung off of his heart with a rope and was dragging it down into a bottomless pit of nothingness. To hear and realise he’d done the same thing you’d been subjected to continuously over the years, especially by the ones you’d mentioned earlier, he was sure he couldn’t actually be able to process how big of a problem it had really been. To imagine you sitting in a restaurant, waiting for him to show up while having to deal with your parents and to defend your relationship all alone with zero trace of him, which he was sure, was probably the best case scenario, hurt him in ways he didn’t realise he could have felt hurt. 

“I don’t think either of us has anything else to say anymore.” You say with a sense of finality to your tone after a few minutes, you couldn’t take more of you both sobbing with a few feet between you, each too proudful to go hug the other and let go of everything. In your course of being with him, this was probably the most sure about anything that you’d been, it wasn’t your fault. It had been a week since he’d been back from tour, accompanied with him showing zero signs or intentions to stop by your shared place for more than a few hours. Even though this plan had been discussed over multiple times and he’d promised you he’d be there, he chickened out. No contact, no response, just complete silence till he just randomly decided to show up at your house again and you’d been too close to your breaking point. You knew you’d let go of this overtime too like you’d always done, but the ‘maybe’ and ‘what if’ questions had been too loud in your brain for you to just ignore them how you’d always do. 

Minho probably sensed that, his fear escalating exponentially. His steps are hesitant as he tries to follow you to your bedroom, your shared bedroom though it hadn’t been shared off late. All you could really think of was to just slip under the covers and cry yourself to sleep, even though you didn’t have coherent memory of when was the last time you’d actually had a good cry. The sound of his footsteps following up right behind yours on the hardwood floor, couldn’t sound louder than the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You turn around in your steps to face him again,

“I need some time. Can you not sleep next to me today please?” you ask him with your hardly regained composure, the last thing Minho wanted was to let you fall asleep that upset,

“its our bed, please just let me try and fix this kitten, hm?” his hands grab onto your forearms with a light hold, form bending down to look into your eyes again, but what you say next, leaves Minho speechless and absolutely heartbroken from how fucking stupid he’d been,

“you haven’t slept in our bed in ages. The last time I checked, it was just on your side of the mattress.”

A/n pt.2 : i am extremely thankful for you to have reached the end, and i hope you enjoyed reading through this. While it was very self-indulgent, i hope it was enjoyable nonetheless. Your comments, reblogs, feedbacks, likes, mean a lot!!!

[romeoeatzkorn]

I don't know why I made this

Why Romeo + Juliet 1996 lowkey implied that gay people (Tybalt) exist

A unorganized essay by Roxx

I firmly believe there is no way Tybalt, Capulet's nephew and Juliet’s cousin, was heterosexual in any way, shape, or form. He is, at least to me, extremely queer coded, whether it was intentional or not. The way Tybalt interacts with the cast screams Internalized Homophobia, from his aggressive and somewhat jealous nature towards Romeo to the banter he and Mercutio shared during their fight, he is just a very queer character and the gays love a enemies to lovers story (I’m the gays)

We don’t see Tybalt interact with Juliet, but I personally would guess they are close, at least as close as cousins are, given they most likely lived a majority of their lives together. If you really look into Romeo’s attempt to calm Tybalt in the play (and most versions) it can read in a homoerotic nature

Tybalt:  “Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford, No better term: Thou art a Villain”

Romeo: Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.” Quote; Act 3 scene 1, they basically just broke up

 and the 1996 version of the film doesn’t help this notion of Tybalt having a raging homo crush on Romeo (haha mean girls reference) either, given how close they are standing next to each other and Romeo’s expression, in that film he looks absolutely heartbroken that Tybalt would resort to such violent action and refuses to strike him. that angers Tybalt and he beats Romeo up, talk about romance am I right? (That was sarcasm, don’t beat your partners it’s fucked up),  and before this, Tybalt looked at Romeo in a way that made him look almost obsessed with him. 

Mercutio and Tybalt are obviously interconnected, they’re not opposites though instead they’re two sides of the same coin, They could even be read as a metaphor for how the hyper-masculinization of Queer men of colour, especially black and dark skinned Queer men, can be harmful and imply the stereotype that men of colour are violent and “uncivilized.” 

So Tybalt’s aggressive nature could be read a reflection of his own internalized homophobia and self hatred that has been pushed onto him by society and probably even his own family, While Mercutio’s aggression could be read as a form of self perseverance to keep himself out of harm's way. They both know that if they are openly queer, they are inherently in danger just by existing.

Tybalt, within this context, hates Romeo because he’s in love with him and he can’t fathom the idea of being in love with a man and a Montague no less.

Also he literally calls Romeo “My man”, I know in various contexts that could mean a platonic bond but c’mon, that's pretty damn gay.

So you might be asking, “Why do you think Romeo and Juliet would be better if Romeo and Tybalt were in love instead? And why not Mercutio and Tybalt?” Firstly, no one would’ve died; The entire reason R & J is R & J is because Tybalt was there, what truly sets off the chain reaction of some of the most memorable parts of R & J is Tybalt. If he wasn’t in the room when Romeo and Juliet were talking, R & J wouldn’t exist, and if he was Romeo’s romantic interest instead no one would be dead, Secondly, JULIET IS TOO YOUNG, I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL, and Third, Romeo and Tybalt would have a more interesting dynamic; the idea of Tybalt having to learn how to be vulnerable with a romantic partner is pretty interesting, I don’t think Tybalt could really ever learn to be vulnerable with Mercutio given both of their short tempers (and Mercutio is lowkey a dick but he’s still cool either way) and lack of respect for the others house. Romeo, obviously, is a bleeding heart romantic who is very very dramatic, while Tybalt is a ruthless, blood-thirsty, and closed off jackass who has some form of daddy and/or mommy issues, and that sort of opposites attract dynamic is the most interesting part of the entire idea of Romeo & Tybalt being an item.

it's giving "She likes a boy, She likes a boy, She likes a boy, She likes a boy, and I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy"

[pastelsnowcat]

I wrote this in one sitting in like 10 minutes, it’s not my best work but it doesn’t matter. It’s more like.. venting for me right now, so watch out for that. I didn’t read through it again, just wanted to write it down. It’s too personal to care if it’s written well.

I wrote about Shoko but actually it’s more directed at my own partner, love you hun.

I advice you to listen to this.

Topics of panic attacks, suicide, self-harm. Shoko comforts you.

“It’s okay, sweet thing” she murmurs against your temple, caressing your back so softly, so lovingly. Things haven’t exactly been.. going your way lately, you’re exhausted. When you retuned home that night and just stood there, in the living room, shaking and trembling and so very close to breaking down.. she was right there.

She was right there when you entered her office with bloody cuts running down your arms. You did it again, you got overwhelmed until the point you cracked and tried to escape the only way you knew how to. Your father, he would’ve yelled. He would’ve yelled and struck you and blamed you, but Shoko did not. She would not. Still, you were scared. Of course you were- She is always so good to you, and you ruin it by falling back into old habits. You snap at her when you feel threatened, not because you want to but because there simply isn’t any other way for you to express yourself. You hurt yourself, convinced you deserve it because you do, you don’t deserve her love or her kindness or-

“Stop. Don’t, don’t overthink. You’re okay, everything is alright, Angel. Just focus on me, can you do that?” She snaps you out of your thoughts, just like she did when she talked you out of taking a pill too many or jumping off a building just a little too high.

Shoko wraps her arms around you and begins to rock you gently, like a scared kid unsure of how to handle such things in life. You’re scared, anxiety fills your chest and threatens to pull you into the void, to consume you- but as long as Shoko was here, right here next to you, you were gonna be okay.

“You’re alright, my sweet girl. Everything is alright” she reassures with a comforting voice. It’s rare to see Shoko so.. emotional, almost. At the very least not the nonchalant Shoko, no. She understands you, she gets it.

Like valuable porcelain, already cracking and so close to breaking entirely, the doctor picks you up ever so carefully, pulls you back on your feet. Figuratively, and literally. You didn’t even realize you broke down in front of her, arms wrapped around your legs with shallow breath. But it’s okay, you’re safe.

You were sat on the couch, your partner wrapping a soft blanket around you. She knows it’s difficult for you to talk about your issues, your worries. She knows you need comfort and reassurance, not advice, not right now.

Shoko crouches down in front of you, tilting her head slightly so she can get a better look at your pretty but oh so sad looking face and her hand moving to rest against your cheek- slow and calculated and afraid to startle you, like a fawn. She’s careful around you. Not because she’s afraid that you might snap or spill hurtful words, it’s how you protect yourself, your defensive mechanism. But because you deserve someone to treat you gently, with love and admiration that is burning in her eyes. Tired eyes, she understands you, your exhaustion. But even if she’s fighting her own tiredness, coping with her very own problems, she still makes sure you’re okay. Always, every single time. Then, with upmost care, she places a gauze on your arm to soak up and stop the bleeding.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay? I will be right back. I promise” she assures, but not actually leaving your side until you nod. Communication. She reassures you that she’ll take care of you, as long as you allow her to. Shoko treats you like art, like a vase, valuable art- so fragile, but deserving of care and love. Always. You replace her hand holding the gauze, working with her and not against her like you used to.

When she returns with a glass of water and a few medical supplies, you just can’t help it but to avoid her gaze. She doesn’t mind, she understands. You’re like a stray, hurt and beaten and the only way you know how to defend yourself is to bare your teeth and bite- even if you bite yourself. But Shoko still loves you, still helps you and she shows it, so so much. It makes you soft, like a muzzle around your jaw. It’s good, perfect even. You’re learning to communicate properly, to allow yourself to show weakness and to let other people help you. You don’t have to go through this alone, you know that? Even right now, vision blurry and body shaking and voice nonexistent. Panicking, feeling like the world is about to end. Because it won’t end, she’ll teach you that. She’ll teach you to love yourself just as much as she loves you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your girlfriend asks, tending to your wounds, her hands trembling just a little and her fingertips twitching occasionally. Of course this doesn’t leave her unaffected, of course it was a shock to her. But she understands, she truly does.

“No” you reply with a whisper, and a sob. She nods, flashing a smile at you. ‘It’s okay, I’ll still love you nonetheless’.

Shoko understands because she has done it before too, self-harm. In a different form, sure, drinking until she would pass out on the couch for many nights in a row or smoking two packs in one sitting. But it’s self-harm nonetheless, with the intention of finally leaving this wicked and cruel world rather too soon than too late. Shoko thought about suicide before, how much easier it would be for her to just.. stop, so she wouldn’t have to endure another heartbreak, another colleague or friend dying because she couldn’t save them.

But then, you stepped into her life and turned it around completely. You, not even trying to but it just happened, pulling her out of a dark place. And she fell in love with you, the way you try so hard to be better, to get well again for her. Working so hard, even when dealing with your past, and always being so affectionate to her. Leaving her notes, cooking a meal when she is just too tired to. Reading a book for her when she can’t sleep, again. In return, she will always take care of you, your wounds and talk you through another panic attack. Reassure you that no, she won’t leave you like they did, she won’t leave you alone in this world. Even when you yell and scream and cry, too overwhelmed with the world, too scared to face it- Shoko will help you through it.

Together. You help each other to heal, to find love and companionship and comfort in each other even if the rest of the world can be so dark, so cruel and mean. To work through your own and combined issues. You understand each other, and each other’s sins and flaws. You know that, and so does Shoko.

“We’re going to be okay, I promise. We’ll heal, and we we’ll be happy. Just stick with me, and we’ll get through it together” she promises, placing a kiss on the bandage wrapped around your arm with expertise. Shoko settles next to you on the couch, wrapped around you tightly in a hug, embracing you. Her sobs joining yours. It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to be emotional. It’s a confession- she will take care of you, but she was still scared when she took notice of the blood dripping along your forearm, across your hands and down your fingertips. You appreciate it, her emotions showing even though Shoko always tries to stay composed, hiding her feelings when she tells another coworker that their friend had just died. But she’s learning to accept her feelings, her fears and worries. You’re helping her learn just as much as she is helping you. You rest your head on her shoulder, placing delicate kisses along her jaw, letting her know that you’re okay and that you’re going to be okay. Even Shoko needs reassurance sometimes.

“Yea.. we’re gonna be fine..” you croak out with a voice just a little hoarse. She takes a deep breath, calming down again. You believe it, you finally, truly believe your words, and so does Shoko.

Even if you feel like nothing is going well, even with so many setbacks and even when your heart breaks again and again and again. Even if you feel like nothing could and will ever be okay, be better again.

Because it isn’t true. It takes work, but Shoko and you will do it together. You’ll both heal and look out for one another.

Things are going to be okay.

[ofbluesandyellows]

Committed to the Cause (Part 3) - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Peter finds himself neck-deep in this, he wants to come clean, trouble arises but Peter knows his priorities, and you are the most important one.

Word count: 9,673

Warnings: Mentions of blood, injuries, and fluff. 

a/n: Well, I just want to thank you all for reading, hope you like this last part, took me a moment to put it together but I hope the little wait had been worth it. See ya next time :)

Part 1 - Part 2

Peter had never been scared for his life, or at least not since he became Spider-Man. 

He was used to getting hit, kicked, shot at, bombed and more recently; staved—more times than he wanted to count. But seeing the prototype Stark industries has been working on, and this one being robbed from one of the safest places in the country, made his skin crawl. 

It all escalated to another level of fear when this prototype got used to cause harm to others, that made his body tremble and then again not for him but for the people he shared the sky with; for aunt May primarily, for the guy he bought coffee from every Saturday, the lady that always shook her head with a kind smirk whenever Peter appeared at her store to do a last minute shop. 

For you.

This was a new discovery, he had gone to your place when this man with enormous wings first appeared in the darkness of a cold night. Peter just wanted to make sure you were safe. And after the relief of seeing you trying to fold your clothes in the safety of your apartment he left and went on to confront this vulture threat. 

Peter fought with all his will but he got beaten and it had been a dumb move to go and crash-literally-at yours when he was bleeding too much, lungs burning, but if he was going to go; to leave earth, to die… he wanted to at least see your face once more. Peter thought that’d be nice, a good way to say goodbye.

Lucky Peter, he survived, one more chance was given to him. In juxtaposition, this just made him notice how weak he was being, how easy it was for him to make the same mistake over and over again. 

Peter wanted more than anything to be able to talk to Peter 1 and Peter 2 about this desperation and the way his whole body was being dragged to you without his permission, unbidden thoughts and unbidden actions were taking over even when he was fighting against them with all his might. 

You were becoming an essential part of his life and wanting it or not Peter was not ready to accept it.

Aunt May had pointed out the amount of flowers he had brought her over the weeks but Peter only shrugged with a tint of red spreading on his cheeks, guilty. The signs were there, but he refused to acknowledge them. 

The thing was that most of the times he tried to cover up his own choices, like when he decided to go buy flowers, he didn’t even see you at the shop, damn Jerry was always there and even though he hadn’t been condescending after the first time they met Jerry still gave him the cold shoulder and ignored Peter when he asked about you. 

Because Peter knew it was the polite thing to do, right? To ask about you.

But Peter took the opportunities as they came, he would buy flowers from Jerry and then casually appear at the shop just when he knew Jerry was not going to be there just to see you. 

How clever he felt when he caught you on your own, having the chance to chat with you in his normal self, no masks or spandex suits. How stupid can one be to trip over the same rock twice. Peter should have known that keeping you close, that by staying near you he was putting you in danger, unwanted danger. As if Gwen’s demise hadn’t been enough punishment to go through, as if he wanted to get his heart broken and stepped on again. 

Worst part was…. he couldn’t help it, Peter enjoyed spending as much time with you as he loved to experiment and find quantum formulas to prove the multiverse. Peter felt bad and guilty, afraid, and excited. 

This time Peter had bought flowers from that one shop he used to buy daisies back in the day. He wanted a moment of trueness with Gwen. He sat in front of the gravestone, placing the flowers down, he let the words flow. 

“Am I wrong Gwen? Am I a monster for wanting this? Am I being a bad boyfriend if I… pursue this… feeling?” He asked and wondered if Gwen could hear him beg for one of his questions to be answered. “I shouldn’t be doing this… any of it and heaven knows—you know I didn’t do it for any outcome other than ease the blame, what I did to her was an accident, yet I can’t find myself to stay away.”

Peter felt like choking on his words and on the flooding of emotions he was experiencing. 

“Selfishness has taken me to the kind of regret one can’t come back from. I miss you Gwen, and I don’t know what to do with all these shitty feelings.” He clenched his fist over the fabric of his jacket, right over his chest. “I should’ve known I was condemned to pain and suffering. Spider-Man can’t have peace, we both know that. But Peter deserves a normal life, if only this was as easy. To keep them both in different cages, we know it’s not possible.” He felt the hot tears prickle his eyes and nose. “If it was, I would’ve done anything to keep them at bay and just make you happy, protect you.”

The tears fell, swallowed by the ground. A breeze suddenly took over and Peter knew Gwen was listening, his heart skipped a beat. He let a laugh escape his lips as he sniffed, this was all a bit mad even for him but he was not letting the chance go by, even if he was being delusional, this was better than nothing.

“Hi Gwen,” he smiled at the gravestone, the one he had memorized by now. He took into account that he wasn’t sure how Gwen looked like anymore, the image of her had slowly faded with time and repeated memories. This thought didn’t hurt as much as it used to. “So… any advice? How unfair is it that I— your boyfriend is asking you for love advice to get closer to another girl?” He laughed, when a strong sweep of wind carried leaves and small sticks with it, poking at his skin. “I’m a fucking idiot I know that, no need to get violent.”

Scratching his cheek, where stubble was starting to get thicker, Peter waited, thinking of how to get an answer out of ghostly Gwen. 

After a couple of minutes, he cleaned the wetness out of the corner of his eye and sighed. “Okay, so if you agree with what I’m about to say, you need to create some kind of breeze or something, if you disagree, well you just don’t, yeah Gwen? show me some wind if you understand me,” 

Madness.

Peter shook his head, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. But yeah, a light breeze caressed his cheeks, it sent a shiver down his spine. Creepy, in a cool way, Peter thought.

“Holy shit, okay. Well… um, should I stay away from her? From y/n, even though I broke her arm?” 

Nothing.

“Should I visit her?” 

Wind. 

“As Peter, and just keep Spider-Man for New York City only?”

No movement.

“Gwen, come on. I need to keep her safe.” Again, the ambience in the cemetery remained unmoving.

Peter’s brows knitted.

“So you want me to… share both sides of me?” strong chill air hit his cheeks, he wanted to roll his eyes, knowing Gwen wouldn’t appreciate it.

“That’s insane, you’re talking nonsense now Gwen. I haven’t even told May! No way you are asking me this.” 

Peter was standing up now, hands up in the air as he kept on complaining and trying to make sense of what Gwen was telling him.

“How am I gonna even say that! What if—what if she doesn’t want to see me again?” his chest contracted thinking about this possibility.

Both hands on his face, dragging down his skin. “I can't,” he mumbled. 

A woman and her children passed by his side, to which Peter quickly tried to compose himself, giving them a cordial nod, the woman threw him a worried look as the kid waved her little hand at him. 

The air rose again and Peter was afraid of what this could bring, his mind didn’t come up with any answers. 

“I—I’ll visit her tomorrow, but… I don’t promise anything Gwen, this is risky, you should know better than anyone.” 

A very light breeze made his skin cool down and a sense of tranquility invaded him. “I love you Gwen.” He said.

Peter felt a light tug at his heart, as if something had unraveled inside him, freeing him. He felt light and a little sad all together.

The flowers at the foot of the gravestone danced with the wind, Peter swallowed, hands in his jacket pockets, he walked away from the cemetery. 

•••

It cost Peter three days to finally gather some strength, his hands were sweating, which was unusual. Fingers brushed his hair a couple of times, but each time the brown locks only got messier and messier, he stopped a block down from your flower shop to look at himself in the reflection of a car parked there. He grimaced, but shrugged it off, there was no way he could fix his hair now. He left his beanie at home anyway, it was this look or nothing.

He was not leaving now, not when he saw Jerry get out of the store. It was his chance. 

The long strides he took were accompanied with big deep breaths, heart rate rising but he was okay with it. That until he saw you placing big bouquets of flowers in various buckets. Peter wasn’t sure how much time he stood there in the entrance watching you, but he felt his insides twist, as a smile on his lips grew wider when he noticed your two arms working in synchronicity again, no cast in the way, you didn’t need help no more. 

No more Spider-Man coming to the rescue. 

“What the fuck am I even doing?” Peter mumbled to himself as he tugged the end of his hair. But he shook his whole body, not minding the looks of the people passing by, with a big sigh he straightened and walked into the store.

The bell chimed and there you were, shiny eyes in his direction, your smile made it all worth it already. How infatuated was he to be feeling all sorts of ways just by one simple smile. 

“Hey!” Peter spoke first, standing there not knowing exactly what to do with himself. 

“Hi Peter! You want the usual?” you put the last bunch of flowers in the buckets and fully turned to him.

“Nope, I came to see you actually.” He cleared his throat, this was it, but first he pointed to your now free arm. “I see you are finally a free woman, how’re you feeling?” 

You grinned, instantly touching the skin of your arm, Peter saw a thin pale scar traveling all over it, until it hid in your rolled up shirt. He almost grimaced.

“It’s great! Those were the worst weeks ever, really annoying but anyway, I can take proper showers now, Like I took for granted this arm for so many years, but no more.” 

Peter let out a chuckle because you kept on rambling about how important your arm was, how it bent and yeah you had a lack of flexibility but you still needed to do physiotherapy to go back to normal. Even though he was enjoying your voice and the venting, he felt guilty still, how could he not. However he was one step closer to fixing it.

“So yeah,” maybe it was the way he was looking at you with doe eyes but he noticed your cheeks going flush and he cleared his throat. “Why did you want to see me?”

You got this Peter!

“Well… I—do you want to go grab lunch with me?” 

Your brows shut upwards, surprised. Peter knew he had messed up, shit. Gwen was wrong.

“I am busy right now, I have to wait for a van to come pick these up.”

Peter’s stomach plummeted, rejection sucked. “No, yeah of course, yeah no worries. I get it.”

“But tomorrow! I can tomorrow, Jerry can take care of the store for a couple of hours,” 

You were quick to say this and Peter took a second to absorb the words. “Su-sure yeah, tomorrow is totally fine,” 

His hand went to the back of his neck, he was beaming, inevitably feeling elated. “Do you have any requests? Because I know this place down Park Avenue.”

“Yeah, whatever it’s fine, you chose.” 

“It’s a good place, they serve a little bit of everything so you can pick Italian to Thai or Mexican, you name it, they have it! And the music they play is also cool, sometimes they let local bands play, especially on the weekends. We could also go again some other time-” He wanted to slap his face because he had no idea how to stop now. “Um, I pick you up here... Around three?” 

You grinned. “Yes, that’s perfect! Thank you for inviting me.” 

Peter felt the weird twist in his stomach, not knowing if letting it flow was a good idea but he let it either way. taking a step closer, he leaned and kissed your cheek. 

“See you tomorrow then.” And there he went, Peter felt his whole body buzzing. 

As he stepped out he waved at you. The reflection on the crystal barely let him see you but your hand was covering your cheek the same one he had just kissed, lips forming a soft smile. He couldn’t believe he asked you out and you said yes. Fuck, Gwen you were right–up to some extent–he still needed to tell you the most important part but this, this was a big step already. 

Peter didn’t feel alone anymore. And he didn’t want to be. He was giving his heart another chance, another chance on love. After a long time Peter finally felt hopeful about the future. 

The next day, Peter spent way too much time trying to pick up an outfit, he had never felt the need to dress up nicely. Not even in his graduation he did it, so now it felt weird but necessary. So he tried four different dress shirts, they ended up looking way too formal, and his band t-shirts were too… ordinary for this. So he tried a red sweater that made him feel like he was attending a Christmas party, and the other sweater he tried was a navy blue that had a tiny hole on the wrist, but he liked how he looked on that one, it was casual but not boring… well it was boring but it was better than his other option so he shrugged, putting on a brown corduroy jacket and his hair; that was another story. He could try and tame it as best as he could but he knew better, it was a lost cause so Peter let it stand in different directions, he even put a little styling cream to make it look effortlessly messy or whatever that style teens were calling it these days. At the end it was looking more messy than before and it curled up a bit, so he gave up and went to put some fragrance on. 

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he felt a pang of guilt, as a déjà vu appeared in his reality. It felt like all those times he had gone out with Gwen, just that he didn’t have to prove himself or try hard. You were different from Gwen, Peter knew that, and in no way he was comparing you two, however he was doing a comparison on himself; the one young, naive and way too positive version of himself had left him with nothing much. Now he was trying his best to build up his confidence back up and opening up to love was hard, masochistic even, he enjoyed the doomed version of himself, who suffered and never found a way to be happy. But he was feeling happy now, even excited about taking you out for lunch, even if this didn’t take him far with you, he knew at least he was trying. 

Deep down he was hoping and wishing for things to work out with you–eventually–heaven knew he needed to take things slow.

On his way downtown, Peter tried to come up with ways to tell you he was Spider-Man, obviously not an easy thing to simply blurt out, but maybe that was the best way to do it, just to spill it out and wait for a reaction. Or perhaps just say it and flee if things don't go smoothly.

As he walked down a street a strong wind almost served him a scolding, Gwen was not happy with that idea, he smiled. Gwen was a part of him now, and he had come to terms with it. Not a ghost or a hunted image, more like a Jiminy Cricket, like he was talking to a friend.

The hairs on his arms and neck stood up, a chill covered his whole body, a moment later a cool strong swipe or air came around him, this wasn’t Gwen’s doing. His worst nightmare only got confirmed seconds later as he saw it flying not high enough to be confused for something else.

Peter took a second to examine the surroundings. People were unaware of the villain overflying the city, so was the police, everyone so immersed in living. 

The vulture was not flying around for fun, it was chasing something. The first grenade fell, rumbling on the ground making Peter run, he had his suit on, as always but he wanted to wait as long as he could to use it, just to avoid more damage. 

Vulture had other ideas of course, he was dropping grenades here and there sidetracking his location, taking the police in the wrong direction as he followed a van, Peter was running, earphones tuning in the police station, they had two possible leads, the vulture was either following an armored truck, or trying to get the social media’s attention for his next big move.

Peter didn’t think it was the latter, he wished he had reacted sooner, the vulture was getting nearer downtown and Peter’s chest was tightening with each turn and every crossed street. 

His Peter tingle was at its highest point, people screaming, smoke, and fire coming from cars and buildings. The blocks he ran went by in a blur, the only shop in his mind appeared in seconds, and there you were, standing on the door, letting people in if they asked. Even if Peter felt some relief the rush of blood was making him all jittery.

“Y/n!” he shouted, your eyes found him. Peter ran, taking off his earphones, he instantly put his arms on your shoulders. “You need to get somewhere safe, this is not… gonna end well, you really need to go.”

Peter had noticed that the street he was on hadn't been attacked yet, but this feeling was bothering him and he needed to make sure you were as far away from danger as possible, this became his number one priority the minute he felt the spider-senses kicking in.

“What? Why? What is happening over there? We heard people crying and everyone kind of freaked out and–” 

“It’s… there are bomb attacks happening, everyone on the streets need to head to a safe place, something could happen any second.” His eyes were intently looking at you, you blinked, looking around, people were starting to run down the street looking up to the sky. “Do you understand?” 

“Ok, yeah I get it, we all can get in the back of the store, where I make the bouquets, we should be safer there. I can let more people in,” you made your way around him.

Peter grunted, he always fell for stubborn girls after all. Fuck.

“What! No, no, you need to get the hell away from here, please y/n, listen to me.”

“I-Okay, I am listening but it doesn’t make any sense! where do you want to go?“

There was no time, Peter felt it in his core, he could sense it just in time to scream at the other four people in the shop, “Everyone down!!”

The grenade landed not very far from the shop but just far enough to not make the whole place crumble like a gingerbread cookie, at least not yet.

His body covered yours, Peter felt something cut though his back. It didn’t matter, it was all right, you were safe.

“You okay?” he asked you, face mere inches to yours. 

You coughed, smoke clouding everything. “I think so… what the fuck is happening!!!” Peter sat down and even if he tried not to, he winced at the feeling of a glass piece ripping tissue somewhere at his back. “Are you hurt?” 

You quickly reincorporated, eyes wide and shaky hands you crawled near him, Peter didn’t want you to move but it was stupid to try and stop you.

“Shit Peter, we need to go to the hospital, this isn’t good.” 

His heart felt all kinds of things, the worry, the panic in your voice made him feel important in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, but the way you looked at him with teary eyes, begging for the yes answer. One he couldn’t give.

“I can’t go, not right now.” 

Somewhere another rumble and screams unleashed, and Peter knew this was the moment he needed to stop the menace.

“Peter, you need to see a doctor, you will make it worse if you don’t.” Tears marked a trade down your dusty cheeks. His heart churned.

“I will, but later. I— listen y/n, this isn’t the ideal situation nor how I imagined telling you this but…” He looked around and noticed the other people there were either staring at them or trying to get out of the shop as fast as they could. Then again, not the ideal scenario but fuck it. “I am Spider-Man.” he let out fast.

Okay, he said it, yet he didn’t get the freeing sensation he thought this would bring.

You blinked, making a few tears fall. “What?” 

“Oh god, don’t make me repeat it.” But you were just staring, clearly in shock. “Jeez… well yeah, I am Spider-Man. I’ll apologize properly for not saying anything to you earlier, because I hope that you want to hear my explanation, even if I lied, well, technically I didn’t lie, i just omitted information, which is normal in this situations because you know how these things are, I just– I need to really go and do something about this…” hand gestures all over the place.

Gulping you nodded. “That explanation can wait, I guess oh— okay, yeah, I’ll wait, cool.” your eyes found his and you let out a scoff. “SHIT!” 

You were processing it, he couldn’t blame you.

Peter sighed. He got up, smoke still lingering in the air, there was no one there anymore. 

“Can you look after my clothes?” Peter randomly asked. 

In a shift move Peter ripped off the glass piece from his body, he didn't give it too much thought. He knew his priorities, a little cut was not impending him to protect the city, especially knowing you were still out here.

“Sure, of course. I mean I can! Can’t I, Spider-Man!?” Your voice was a mix of anger and surprise and your cheeks were red, but you still piled Peter’s clothes on your arms in harsh movements. 

Peter watched you with a funny look. “Thought you were cool with it.”

“Oh shut up, would you!” 

Peter winced, putting his mask on.

“Be right back, okay? Just one last thing…” Peter felt so bad for leaving you, so he did what he thought best. “Sorry about this.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and in a second you two were flying up in the air, your arms and legs instantly wrapped around his waist and neck koala style. Peter would’ve enjoyed the moment if the city wasn’t in flames and chaos. 

“Oh my, oh my, fuck fuck fuck.” you mumbled on his neck, he couldn’t help to let out a chuckle. “Don’t fucking laugh, Peter! This is awful,”

And you screamed as he plummeted from the sky. He let you down on a street he was certain was secure.

“I’ll compensate for the bad date with a million good ones I promise.” 

You wanted to laugh, but you only grimaced, holding his clothes closer to your chest. “We are stuck together Spider-Man… you promised.”

Spider-Man stood there, he had meant every word he had said to you, still a small bubble of doubt bursted in his mind. 

“What about Peter?” his breath hitched.

It took you a beat to reply. “Of course Peter too, are you kidding me! After all we’ve been through!” 

“Really?” If only you could see his face, all soft and eyes almost watery, a hand went to his chest, his heart pumping blood to a dangerous pace. The moment being interrupted by the loud sirens echoing down the streets. “I am so relieved, glad that you said that but we may have to reschedule this talk ok? I gotta go now.”

“I’ll be here waiting!! Please be safe! Stay away from knives!”

That’s the last thing Peter heard before his Spider-Man self came full force. His back was aching, the pain wasn’t enough to stop him from swinging.

Police cars, the sirens of ambulances, everything was chaos in downtown. He helped pedestrians who were stuck in buildings, under debris or kids trying to find their moms and dads. He did the best he could but Spider-Man wasn’t able to do everything, no matter how hard or how fast he tried to be, it was never enough. 

The vulture was the kind of threat he needed to extinguish fast. He couldn't let him do anything, definitely not giving him the chance to prepare another ambush because whoever was maneuvering those wings was a clever man and nothing good came from that kind, he knew well. Spider-Man was ready to fight, however all he did was track him down and eventually when Spider-Man fought, he did his best. The advantages weren’t on his side unfortunately. 

The vulture did as much damage as he was able to.

“Time to try these taser web balls.” Peter mumbled as he unlatched a cartridge from inside his boot. “You give me no choice birdy.”

The vulture was up in the air, ready to attack Spider-Man, gunshots flung past the arachnid, he did his best to avoid getting shot. Being afraid and tired after fighting, he still had hope, he had a reason to be. This could be it.

His thread of webs splattered on walls as he balanced, trying to gain as much momentum as he could, changing moves as we went so the vulture wouldn’t track him nor detect the trick up his sleeve. 

His body moved fast, Spider-Man spun and his attention focused on the target, mid air, more than twenty stories up he shot from his right wrist as three sparkly web balls crossed the sky, and from his left he pressed a button on his web shooter, it clicked as a tiny blue light pulsed on his wrist and another splash of web came out. This one quickly stuck to the wings of the villain, a barely noticeable tracker had been successfully placed, meanwhile the web balls splashed one on his legs and the other two exploded mid air, like little fireworks of sticky fluid. A distraction

The vulture laughed as he flew higher, his leg exploded seconds later, the laughter of the villain morphed into a cry. Peter was swinging and following the villain as all this happened. He knew that this was not going to last long, so he shot a few more explosive balls that got caught somewhere on the vulture’s suit. But this wasn’t enough to stop him. 

Spider-Man seemed fine, yet Peter was panting, holding in pained moans. Everything hurt, from his back all the way to his legs, in one of them he had the vulture’s feathers stuck on his skin.

“Funny how you think your little webs can stop me.” Vulture said with that croaky voice Peter hated. “This is just the beginning Spider-Man, you won’t be able to shoo me away any more.” His body went higher.

“Oh come on, you’re leaving so soon, we are barely starting to know each other. Don’t leave, birdy, or are you afraid of spiders?” 

This little chat distraction served him to land a kick on the vulture's side. “You fucking spider, you are paying for this.”

And the threat didn’t feel personal, not until Peter saw the intentions of the villain. The few grenades the vulture had plummeted as he got higher over the city, not minding where those could land. 

In a slow motion Peter saw them fall on the only place he thought wouldn’t be touched. His blood went cold. Nothing mattered anymore, no police call, no ambulance, no scream, no warning. Peter needed to get to you.

“No, no, please not again.” As he moved between buildings, cars and panic, Peter felt tears blurring his sight, his whole body felt the dread and agony on his chest as it tightened, lungs burning as his body succumbed to the anguish.

He didn’t want to lose you, he wasn’t even able to think of losing you too. There had been enough suffering in his life, first Ben, then Gwen. Peter couldn’t lose you. Heartbeat increasing. Hands shaking but Peter kept on balancing, moving, he could be helping the ones that needed him, he needed you most. For the first time he was choosing himself.

Landing on a street surrounded by smoke and sorrow, he didn’t know what to do. Peter inhaled, shakily.

“Y/n?” He tried to scream, but Peter felt scared, fear took over him as he walked around.

He shouted your name a couple more times, each one louder, more desperation staining his words.

“Please, where are you!” 

Peter Parker believed in higher forces, but never in miracles because life had been awfully unfair to him to the point of leaving no room for optimism and hope, even less for magic, even though Dr. Strange had changed that whole perspective, however he was not in his reality. 

There was this exact moment where a shadow emergen between dust and coughs, between the cries and sirens, he felt your body clash into his, hard and warm, in this moment Peter decided everything was possible. Miracles were actually real.

“Holy shit!” He sighed, holding you as close as bodies were allowed to.

Peter was grateful to have a mask on because he’d been crying for a good five minutes, and his eyes were prickling, probably bright red. 

Holding your face in his hands, examining every inch of your skin. “Hey, hey, you are bleeding, are you okay?” Peter’s spandex covered hand caressed your cheek, a cut there, and another one on your lip, but he didn’t see any other wound.

“I am fine, I just… I lost your clothes.” 

Peter let out a chuckle. “It’s fine, I didn’t even like that sweater,” you hands gripped at his hurt back, you noticed how his body went stiff.

 “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Peter?” your hands went up now, to his masked face, you knew the rules, of course you were not going to peel off the mask but you kind of wanted to make sure he was indeed fine. This made Peter’s heart squeeze and his belly twisted weirdly.

“I am fine now, don’t worry about me please, just tell me you are okay.” 

He brushed your hair away from your face, he could see your wide eyes and dried lips, your skin covered in grime and smelling like smoke.

“Truly, I am fine, we got to hide in the restaurant’s basement… why they have a basement I have no idea, but the point is that you are hurt Peter don’t lie to me, I see the blood.”

Peter waved a hand. “It'll heal,” His eyes weren’t able to leave your face, you didn’t notice but he could look at you for hours, the way his body relaxed now was making everything hurt ten times worse. Adrenalin already dissolving in his system, which wasn’t good.

“Spider-Man!” 

He let you go, annoyed he turned, caught a few policemen walking towards him. 

“I’ll see you later, yes? I still need to do some work.” Maybe it was fear for what you could say to him but Peter turned around and swallowed the pain, jogging to meet the police.

The vulture escaped with weapons. The work didn’t stop there, people needed the city’s hero, and Spider-Man did what was expected of him. 

No matter if the big bird man succeeded, Peter won just by keeping his promise with himself; keeping you safe.

•••

Spring was your favorite season because flowers bloomed out of nowhere, colors seemed brighter and the air was cleaner, weather not too hot or too cold, it was perfect. 

The shop wasn’t as damaged as it seemed, cleaning it up had been a pain in the ass and it cost a few dollars to make it all pretty again, new paint and a new door made the shop even nicer than what it was. You could’ve been happy with all of this. 

For weeks you’ve been non-stop thinking about this whole situation. Your little crush on Spider-Man was more than that, you had feelings for Peter too which you already had some kind of connection with.

There had been signs, the way they moved, words both said, phrases, that laugh and now that you knew, it was so obvious, it made you feel a bit stupid for not noticing. The way Peter looked at you, how you felt comfortable but at the same time hyperaware. He transformed, in the suit, he was more confident, louder, heroic.

But it was the same boy all along, you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit upset with how things had evolved, but  with the passing of days you found yourself missing him. A cute flower shop was in no way filling in the Peter Parker shaped hole you had in your heart.

He broke your arm, took you to the hospital, became a friend or something and then he left all the cards on the table for you to read and take or reject just to disappear when you decided to take all of it. 

So you waited, and waited for one, two, three, weeks. A month and then two. Peter didn’t show up at your shop nor your apartment, and even Jerry found it weird. 

“You should call him,” he advised one day.

“I don’t have his number,” 

Jerry snorted. “With the way he looked at you and you beamed when he was near I thought you would.”

Great, now even Jerry pointed out how stupid you’ve been.

It wasn’t as if Spider-Man had disappeared, of course not. He fought crime and at times he helped old ladies cross the street or would take cats down from trees. You read that on Twitter one morning, which made you feel even worse, as if you hadn’t been enough to stick around.

Crying was something you did a lot but only when you were in the shower, the water made your eyes less puffy and no one would hear you. It has turned onto a coping mechanism now. Pathetic.

One night as you sat on the couch, with a bottle of wine on your hand and a bag of chips on your lap, you were watching New Girl. Last season was your favorite because it was chaotic but it was happy and the troubles they went through were fixable, because they were with the right people.

So you tried to focus on that but Percy caught your attention. He was still looking out the window, it happened especially during the night. You were tired and yes it annoyed you. Percy wasn’t the one to blame though.

“Percy, come here,” you mumbled softly as the dog followed your orders. Putting it up on the couch he snuggled by your side. The chips found their place on the coffee table as Nick and Winston filled the silence in your apartment. 

“It’s just the two of us now Percy, if he didn’t want us, that’s fine, we can’t force him, he has stuff to do anyway, we aren’t a priority… so ” you shrugged. Nose tingling.

“Shit,” you didn’t want to cry. But Nick and Jess kissed and Schmidt and Cece were happily married and Winston found love and a job he liked, all the while you were alone and heartbroken. 

Inevitably hot tears came down and got swallowed by the collar of your shirt. Percy only looked at you, making you feel worse.

The crying stopped… At some point, you didn’t remember when because you fell asleep, waking up to the horrible pain on your neck thanks to the position you were sleeping in. 

You felt something heavy on your legs and as you moved you noticed it wasn’t Percy. A blanket was covering your legs. Frowning, you blinked, the sun was coming up now, orange skies made the room look warm. The room was clean, no chips, no wine bottle. Your eye caught a glimpse of sparkle on the side of the window. 

In a quick move you were standing by the glass door. Heartbeat speeding up. Web fluid was shining under the first rays of sunlight. 

“Peter,” you whispered, Percy now standing by your side, a new toy in his snout.

Two days later you arrived at the shop a bit late. Jerry was already there making bouquets and prepping a delivery for the afternoon.

“Morning,” you simply said. Jerry nodded, weirdly enough he followed you down to the back of the store where your working space was. 

You were too immersed in your own thinking to notice but there it was. The chime of a bell made you jump, just that this was not the shop’s bell. 

Pivoting on your spot, you saw Jerry standing by a bike. It was your bike.

Gasping, your hands went up to your mouth. “How did you-?”

“I didn’t! It was here when I arrived.” And Jerry left you there. Wondering.

It was the same color, shinier, better; the handlebars were different but you didn’t care. You loved it. Looking around you tried to see if there was a note or a clue. It was obvious who did it yet you wanted proof, you wanted something other than the bike, you wanted… needed to see Peter again.

After many bouquets, cut stems and getting stabbed by thorns, Jerry stood by your side.

“Um… My brother took the car today. And since you have a new bike I was wondering if you would lend it to me to deliver the flower arrangement to Mr. Whiteman.”

You let out a laugh. “Hell no, Jerry. I haven’t even used it. If someone is doing so it’s gonna be me, so no. I am taking the arrangement to her. So you stay here and I’ll be right back.”

Jerry put his hands in the air and took a step back. “Right, sorry. It was just an idea.”

“A bad one, but I forgive you.”

Jerry helped put the arrangement on the extra big basket on the bike. You put on your dusty forgotten helmet and waved at your co-worker. 

You didn’t see this but Jerry smiled. “Parker, you owe me big time.”

Mr. Whiteman paid extra for the early delivery and thanked you for such a thing. You loved the mix of lilies, the white carnations and baby's breath all of them soft making the orange roses stand out. And the smell was sweet and unique.

You felt happy as you moved around the city. Your bike was back, not sure if it meant something or not but you opted to not ponder much on that thought, a red light stopped you from making a turn and your eyes caught up the glimmer of web. 

Having to blink a few times only made the feeling stronger. You looked up, the sun didn’t let you see much but you hoped with all your heart that Peter were near, even if you and him were not speaking you always wished he was close enough. 

The rest of the day went by calmly, you went on your bike back home and the moment you entered your apartment Percy was at your side jumping, tail intently whipping, he hadn’t been this happy for your arrival since… well since never. But it was the smell of food that made your heart somersault.

Bike crashed on the floor as you entered the kitchen. A couple of boxes rested there, you knew the restaurant well, it was the one Spider-Man or better said, Peter brought food from often. 

A sigh escaped your lips after you checked the whole apartment. No trace of him other than the obvious boxes. You waited to eat, changing into comfortable clothes, putting on some music and sitting at the kitchen table, which somehow felt very empty. 

As you grabbed a small box, you caught a glimpse of a bright green post-it on the base of it. You took it. 

Hi, I got you your favorites. I still want that date to happen but I have to figure a few things out, first. 

I understand if you don’t want to wait, because it’s selfish of me to ask that.

I am sorry for everything, y/n.

-Peter  :)

At his name you noticed how he scratched the drawing of a smiley face, your shoulders slumped. Whatever it was Peter needed to figure out you were letting him. He was around when you broke your arm—well, he broke it but he tried to make things better—so you were giving him time. You gave him two months already, you could wait a while longer.

•••

Peter had been following you all this time, a habit he had caught since Gwen, it was just to be sure you were okay. Since the vulture issue, he wanted to be extra sure of things. That man being on the loose had cost him a lot of time. After several days of nonstop investigations, sleepless nights and injuries Spider-Man found the right leads and now he was waiting. 

On the rooftop of a building he watched as you entered a grocery store. An unbidden smile on his lips.

His phone buzzed on his palm, the name of a police officer flashed on the screen. His whole body went rigid.

“Please tell me you got him.” Peter spoke, no greetings, no politeness he had been carrying this dread for long enough. 

“We got him Spider-Man, your insider or however the hell you got that information from was right. We found Adrian Toomes near Hell’s Kitchen. They’re processing him as we speak. Good job.”

The moment he hung up. Peter couldn’t wait, he had done that more than enough. An idea popped in his brain, looking at the clock on his phone he calculated another fifteen minutes or so until you walked out the store so he swung a few blocks and crossed the street, instantly eyeing the place.

“She is going to hate me for this,” he mumbled as he stepped into a flower shop.

It was a nice store, probably a very expensive one now that he thought about it, he shrugged and picked a bouquet. The one he chose was simple, nothing out of this world but tulips were not like daisies.

“Wow you are really Spider-Man!”

Someone squealed, he turned around.

“Hi!” He waved at the woman at the desk. “How much for these?”

“Those just arrived, and they are not cheap but, I mean you are freaking Spider-Man! So it’s nothing, you can take them! My boss would be so pissed if I charged you,”

The woman was beaming at him, Peter felt slightly uncomfortable but that was part of the job. Still he felt weird taking the flowers for free.

“No ma’am I can’t just take them,”

“You need to! Look what if we take a photo just to show to my boss and you take them in exchange”

There was the catch. The woman looked at him expectant, Peter grunted a bit but he weighed his options. With a movement of the head and a sigh he gave in, he was in a rush.

“Sure okay, c’mere” and the photo was taken.

“Oh thank you Spider-Man my friends won’t believe me!”

“Cool, um thanks for the flowers! Gotta head out.”

And the woman totally forgot about him. 

“Jeez, these people don't know how to be cordial anymore.” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Webs crossed the sky landing on buildings as he flew. His phone buzzed and a headliner flashed on his news messages, opening it, it showed the photo of Spider-Man doing a peace sign, with tulips on his hand. They used him to promote the flower shop. The internet was going crazy.

He smacked his free hand on his face, oh you were definitely going to hate him for that.

He would deal with that when the time came, now he needed to get to you. A smile on his face was inevitable. Heart pounding so loud he could feel it in his ears.

“Heads up! Spidey is here!” He shouted, getting just enough attention from the nearby pedestrians. 

You saw him approach, Peter grabbed you by the waist, not stopping, you squealed, holding onto him and your grocery bag as if your life depended on it.

“I am sorry, I’m sorry. We’ll be down in a second.” Peter rushed to say.

Swears and a few punches later, Pete let you down on top of the Empire State Building. You gasped and almost fell on your knees. 

“Whoa!” Peter took off his mask as he tried to steady you. Maybe he acted too harshly this time but he didn’t want to waste a second.

“You… you really want me dead Peter!” was the first thing you said to him.

Wow he had missed you. Peter thought with a lopsided grin on his face. “I need to keep the tradition going. Stay committed, you know?” 

You scoffed. “You could’ve invited me to grab coffee or something.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Sorry. Here, it’s not coffee but maybe it helps.” Flowers a little smushed together were standing bright yellow between Peter’s fingers.

You practically snapped them from his grasp. “You better have bought these from us.” sounded like a threat.

“Er… I was expecting to say this later but no, I had no time to go to Jerry, but hey I made an effort, so yeah… sorry. They’re pretty!”

Your eyes went from the flowers to his face. “I like them, now please stop saying you are sorry.”

“Fine, I won’t say it again.” he cleared his throat. “ I apologize for staying away for so long and for everything, all the lies, the secrets, the arm, the food, the treason to your shop. I know it isn’t enough to compensate what I did, but your bike–Did you like it at least?” 

He was fidgeting with his mask, dammit why was he so nervous.

“I did, thank you for that too. And… “ you let out a loud sigh. “It's all fine Peter. I understand how hard it is, and you said it, your identity needed to stay a secret, but—“

Not the buts. Peter’s chest tightened.

“Let me explain, I—I was keeping my distance because I like you. I like you a lot, it’s crazy how much you mean to me, and I don’t want to make you feel weird, I’d never do that… not on purpose anyway… so the point is that I had to make sure the vulture was gone, for real, forever. I’ve lost people I loved and cared for, I didn’t want to risk it all again.”

He saw you gulp and squeeze your eyes hard. After a long second you spoke. “Am I a risk to you?”

“What?!” this was not what he meant. “Of course not, I am the risk, I ruin things. It’s just all part of the Parker luck. Listen. I want to take you out on a date, and I needed to have some kind of peace of mind with these mother fucking villains coming out of nowhere, some reassurance they were not going to come near us. To finally do this properly. And I know we met in weird circumstances—“

“Peter, stop rambling,” you laughed. “I really understand that, and it hurt me that you left without saying a word for months but I get that the city needs you. And I’m glad you are here now, this is fucking weird and it annoys me  that you had to bring me to the fucking top of the highest building to say these things but I love how we found our way through this unusual encounters. So yes! Let’s go on a date and watch New Girl and you can keep on winning Percy over because he has missed you just as much as me or even more!” 

And Peter deflated, his body was tingling in that nice way he still found foreign. A sudden swirl of wind made your hair dance and Peter knew Gwen had somehow approved of all of it.

Thank you.

“You are the best, have someone told you that?” He took a step closer.

“Yeah all the time, Jerry always says it.”

“Hmm, I don’t appreciate that tone.” He acted offended but you smirked and he beamed, feeling like he could melt right there at your feet.

“It’s what you deserve… so now can you please take me down from here?” You begged. 

Peter sighed. “What about the cool view?”

“It is a great view, don't get me wrong but I am terrified, please Peter.”

With a light chuckle, Peter grabbed your hand and placed it around his neck.

“Hold tight,” He put his mask on.

“Oh god, not again.”

Your face hid on the crook of his neck, as he started the intense commute back to yours. 

Squeezing your waist Peter tried to catch your attention. “I need to come clean with another important issue.”

“Oh no, Peter. What now?” You squealed as he made a sharp turn.

The bag of groceries smacked his back every now and then, the flowers were not going to survive the trip. 

“You won’t like this so anyways, here it goes… I finished New Girl and my theory was right, Cece and Schmidt ended up together.”

“You watched it without me!” for a second there you forgot you were soaring through the dark skies of Manhattan. You punched his shoulder, Peter laughed.

“It reminded me of you! I had to do it. Keep you near somehow.”

Peter landed softly on your balcony. He took off his mask in a swift move, the other hand still on your waist, you squinted at him, Peter bit his lips to not smirk.

“You are really a pain in the ass Peter. I’m really offended and it’s also very sweet of you to say that.”

Now it was his turn, cheeks going warm, his belly fluttered. “Just the truth there.”

A sudden bark broke the magic happening in the balcony. Percy scratched the glass door until you opened it just for him to quickly welcome Peter.

“See? He missed you more than me.”

Peter squatted to pet Percy. “That’s not the kind of phrase I wanted to hear after I said nice things to you.”

“I said you were sweet!”

“Well I wanted to hear it again. You are cute when you are slightly upset, maybe even cuter than Percy here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you, and yes I am being sarcastic.”

As you went inside to leave the groceries and find a vase Peter grabbed your hand. He took the bag from you. “I’m joking, of course you are the most beautiful girl in the world. Now let me help you with that.”

From the corner of his eye, Peter saw you hide your face between the beaten up tulips, then you followed him inside.

“Want some tea?” He asked you, as he watched you carry a blue vase around. His whole body felt funny. This was the first time he was in his Spider-Man suit, mask out in the apartment with you there. He liked how natural and comfortable he felt, Peter could get used to it.

You scrunched your nose. “Too warm for that. I have beer and I can make some spaghetti.” 

Peter shook his head. “I’m not letting you cook.”

“Then what are we gonna eat?” you put the vase on the kitchen table, you crossed your hands. 

“Have bread and cheese?” 

“I actually do.”

“Say no more! Give me ten minutes and dinner will be ready.” Peter clapped his hands and went full chef mode on. It wasn’t the biggest meal prep but his cheese toasts were always the best, at least May appreciated them even when those were not ‘nutritional enough’ as she would point out.

He felt you observing his moves, but it didn’t bother him, he felt at home.

After a moment, he heard the tv go on, your voice reached his ears. “No way!”

“What is it?”

“Have you watched How I met your Mother?” 

Peter’s brows knitted together. “No, I don’t think I have. Is it good?”

“Oh, Peter. You are going to love it!”

Beers popped open, and both sat down, Percy chewed his almost destroyed spidey toy, Peter ate his toasts and you complimented his chef skills to what he waved a hand off dismissing the words, knowing he wasn’t as good as you praised him to be.

Peter wasn’t exactly looking at the tv, his eyes were on the night sky. A clear night, and he wondered how he had come to this. A visit to Gwen, a wounded shoulder, a broken arm and then you took over his life. Nothing had ever felt so serendipitous in his life, but oh he loved how it turned out. 

Out of nowhere, a mere thought, he let it flow, covering his every cell. His head whipped your way, you caught the abrupt move, his eyes were searching for something, and yours were sparkling. Your heart was hammering, you couldn’t help but smile when he fixed himself on the couch, nearer.

A blink then two, Peter didn’t know if this was too soon yet he wanted to do it.

“I want to kiss you so bad,” 

If your grin grew wider it would’ve split your face in two, instead you simply mumbled a  “do it then Peter.”

And Peter did, his lips crashed with yours, warm and soft and it felt like everything he expected it to be. Tender and a little bit aggressive at one point, your hands in between his hair and his still gloved ones on the side on your neck and back. He wanted to rip off that damn suit to be skin to skin.

Both got swallowed by the moment, minds not really working, Peter was almost over you, grunts and little laughs mixed as your lips separated, red spandex thumb brushed your lower lip, his eyes were on you, traveling up and down your face, peck after peck until Percy complained about your lack of attention in his direction.

“Percy, for once I’m not choosing you,” As Peter spoke his lips brushed against yours.

“Finally” you replied, with a smirk. You couldn’t contain yourself, you grabbed his face and shoved it against yours again, Peter growled. The lack of air had both of you panting and giggling, lips swollen, eyes twinkling and bodies buzzing with desire and the blossoming seeds of love.

Peter hid his face on your neck, not moving from his position over you, careful not to squeeze you, you were not complaining though.

“I don’t need proper dates Peter, I like this.” you kissed the top of his head.

“Yeah, me too. I like being with you.” a soft peck on your neck, and he smelled coconut again, a sigh escaped him. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“Thank you for breaking my arm.”

He snorted, making you giggle.

“Hmm, I can fix that with bribery kisses, now.”

“Bribery kisses? Those are my favorites.”

Peter closed his eyes, humming, grinning and brushing your soft skin with his lips. The tv was making noise, but he was not listening, his ears only heard your heart beat and the growl of your voice, in that moment where everything was possible, mended bones and magic tights bandages, flowers and the power of a sit-com; Peter thanked his lucky stars for this. 

Peter 1 and Peter 2 would be surprised to hear how he found his own version of MJ. And Gwen. Well, Gwen had been all around, and this was all her doing after all. 

Peter wasn't alone anymore.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Four panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Knives, as a child, blank-eyed and chewing on his thumb. He's been doing it long enough for it to start bleeding badly, blood trailing all the way down his arm and past his wrist. The second panel shows him typing with his other hand. The third panel has pulled out to a wide image of the bank of computers that he's working at, alone and in the dark. The fourth panel shows him smearing the blood from his thumb down the left side of his face, while tears pour out of his right eye. End ID.]

KNIVES. KEEPING EVERYTHING INSIDE IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU OR SAFE FOR ANYONE AROUND YOU. There's a horrible twisted echo of a child sucking their thumb or biting their nails, but to a degree where it looks like he's ripping his thumbnail off, which is giving me the MASSIVE ick.

I used to think he was crying and doing this because he was reading Tessla's case files, kind of morbidly obsessed with what happened to her and fortifying his own hatred for humanity, but now I think it might be that he's writing the virus that'll ultimately crash the fleet. If that's what he's doing here, showing him not just crying but self-harming suggests that he's feeling very conflicted about his plan to wipe out the fleet, that he knows what he's doing is a horror... but he's doing it. He's decided that he has to do it, that he's the only one strong enough to do it, circling the drain of his own mind with the self-justifying logic that he has to do it because he can. Even if he's crying and tearing himself open while doing it. Under those circumstances, and given the sheer scale of the murders he's about to commit, what can he do but double down and insist that he was right all along afterwards?

...Literally anything else, kiddo, I am begging you to go hug your mum and talk about your terror of humans instead of self-harming while planning mass murder PLEASE

[borderline-culture-is]

vent, im sorry. tw for self harm, suicidal thoughts at the end

you know you're initially fucked when you can't bring up behavior by the people closest to you that bothers you without being shut down because YOU obviously NEVER work on YOUR behavior and YOU always bitch about theirs and never yours: meanwhile you beat yourself in the head full force with the heavy risk of internal bleeding just because you literally physically cannot control things like the volume of your voice, or simply loudly crying, or, no, JUST crying. or crying in the presence of your family dog who hides when i cry or get louder because of years of loud fighting/screaming in the family, which is ALL blamed on me even though i was fucking 13 and thus every time i cry i get told to stop because of the dog and it buries a deeper hole for my episodes. i get it, i really do, but i cannot just *finger snap* and hurray, even though i really, really wish i could. im sorry, nana.(name of dog)

and i had the exact same argument in between writing this vent, proving my point further and further. i can explain everything as deeply and personal as i can. I can be the one that's as reasonable as can be DESPITEN being worked up to hell, and still, it will never be enough because i know it'll happen again. if you're the disordered & mentally ill in the household, everything will ALWAYS be your fault. and it drives you literally even more "insane." sorry for this addition but since suicide is out of my reach, i just hope at this point i slowly bleed to death after another beating to the head involving the exact same scenario, which isn't unlikely at all considering this happens at least once every two weeks. im more than tired at this point. im trying my literal best, which is sadly often "just" not harming myself & survival & preventing episodes, going to therapies, as good as i can and it is NEVER, and i mean NEVER good enough. and im supposed to believe the world would be a worse place without me in it. insert laugh here.

thought a lot of whether i should use my "sign" or not, but i am too down to care right now so -🪅🥩

.

[dontlookheswatching]

Okay! Ref sheet number one is done! This took like a entire DAY It was NOT supposed to take this long so I hope this is worth all that time😭

A version with scars are shown!

There’s also mentions of drugs and self harm, so please take this note as a TW. Some of the scars on the other version below the cut have a few visible self harm scars, so please beware if any of this stuff triggers you.

Ben Drowned

•Pansexual and goes by he/they(Demi Boy).

•5’0, perhaps one of the shortest adults you’ll ever meet. He’s 21, and his birthday is on April 23rd.

•His eyes don’t always bleed. Only when he’s upset, stressed, or crying. If he’s really upset, he’ll produce more tears that are black and taste like ink. •He has wings and tail feathers that support flight, although he doesn’t know how to fly. Both are due to the fact he’s supposed to be an angel, but due to Slenderman interfering, it never happened. He doesn’t clip his wings, so they’re huge, to where he has to use magic to hide them and his tail feathers.(My Ben is nothing related to BEN. I have very different stories and headcanons that make it impossible for me to intercept BEN into my version of Ben. The BEN Arg has nothing to do with my version of Ben is simpler words, as my Ben is my own revamped version of Benjamin Lawman.)

•One of the most likable creeps alongside Toby.

•He’s a femboy. I will not elaborate.

•He has several different aesthetics, two of his favorites being Scene and Grunge.

•He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, but others do. He doesn’t celebrate it for a few reasons; One being as a child his father never bothered to celebrate his birthday, least of all tell him “happy birthday”. This has led Ben to commonly forgetting his own birthday. Another reason is because it’s also the same day he died. He doesn’t mind if the other creeps celebrate his birthday, even if it’s kinda awkward for him, just as long as there’s no one celebrating his death. That’ll cause a fight in seconds.

•He’s in charge of anything that has to do with technology. If a creep has questions, or maybe some this isn’t working correctly, they go to Ben. Ben is also in charge of things such as security camera footage, hacking into government files, police records, and other stuff similar. He also provides creeps with information about their missions, specifically any details about a victim they might need to know, such as the victims address. •His voice constantly and randomly distorts and glitches, as well as his body. His voice will distort and glitch more when he’s having extreme emotions, and it sometimes gets to the point where no one can understand him except Jeff and other glitchpastas. Think Lolbit from FNAF as a example.

•He tends to float and levitate to seem taller.

•He’s Japanese American, and is fluent is Japanese. He can be found talking in Japanese when he forgets no one else really understands him, or when he’s scared, he might scream out something in Japanese.

•Despite being a entity that literally torments people into offing themselves and scaring them shitless he’s actually easily frightened. Creeps love to scare him because of this because he has a high pitched scream and he’ll start glitching out.

•He likes to paint his nails. He even sometimes lets Nina do his nails, but not too often, because she tends to give him acrylics, and everytime one breaks he almost cries.

•He’s a stoner. He used to smoke weed and do drugs when he was a teenager and in his super early 20’s, and it used to be a really big problem. He’s gotten better since then, and only allows himself to smoke weed if he’s stressed or having a awful day. He no longer does drugs. Another issue he had really bad was self harm. He hardly does that anymore either. He also has several mental disorders and other problems he struggles with, but I might cover that in a different post, or a possible ask if anyone decides to ask questions.

That’s all for the first ref sheet! The next one is for Jeff, and it’ll probably take just as long as this one did or maybe longer, because I’m still working on multiple things as I’m doing these, such as a relationship chart, and organizing my messy headcanons for these refs😭

[dearmahiru-archive]

even without textual evidence id love to hear your thoughts on kotoko not killing anyone directly!! i never hear 10 theories, & especially not ones that dont revolve around her beating up the prisoners. if youre comfortable, i would love to hear your thoughts on my wife ~with love

Ahh so sorry for how long it took to me to answer this ask my brain has been gone for the past few days. But you're right!  How could I pass up an opportunity to talk about Kotoko? She deserves so much more love than what she's given. Kotoko appreciators please interact I'd love to hear your thoughts.

So we already know I subscribe to this particular theory:

Since it serves as a extension of the parallels found in the prisoners. It also fits with Kotoko since she states she'd be an innocent person outside of Milgram:

Kotoko: [...]To defend and protect the weak, there’s always situations when you can't do anything else. I say again, what I did is, “facing an urgent and illegal infringement, an action taken out of necessity to protect the rights of myself and others”. You do understand what that means, right? Es: "Criminal law, the 36th paragraph, article 1. Justifiable self-defense." Kotoko: "Looks like someone has studied. So in reality, my case, if taken to the judiciary, will also be judged as justifiable defense.

(Kotoko you did nothing wrong so true so true!)

Though, I'll admit this doesn't outright confirm she didn't kill directly anyone. However, if we work back from the idea Kotoko commited an indirect murder then you start noticing a lot of weird details in her case.

— The Warehouse

First off, Kotoko didn't directly killed the warehouse guy. We know this because her actual victim died in a nearby street in Sendocho, Kyoto.

There is the possibility there's multiple murders underneath her belt but she hasn't mentioned it hereself:

Kotoko: I did kill someone. This is why I believe in the power of Milgram.

And, unlike other prisoners, Kotoko has no reason to lie about herself. She admires the prison and believe she's done nothing wrong. If she wants to become our fang then certainly she'd jump at the chance to mention all the villains she's defeated.

Which is amazing and everything but. . . if Kotoko's victim didn't die in the warehouse then why is it the climax of Harrow? It's obviously meant to be presented as her murder. Why are there so many strange details included in the warehouse scene too?

I pointed this out in a seperate post but there's three major strange details in the warehouse scene:

1). A car suddenly appears the second time Kotoko enters the warehouse.

2). Kotoko's outfit shifts midway through entering.

3.) Despite that, her cap still appears on the ground.

(I don't even think Takao, the warehouse guy, is even bleeding...! I've been told otherwise but I turned up the saturation and stared at the image like twelve different times but I think its shadow. Why is it obscure anyway??? Just make it outright!! Some of us have vision problems y'know!!)

I don't have any answers for why these details are here but it's weird. This is only time I can think of in S1 where the "real world" has muddled up details like this. (Apart from maybe Rei's change of eye colour which is more subtle than this).

Which isn't to say her victim isn't Takao. Again, it's the literal climax of the song and her wolf imagery comes out full stop while dealing with him. She's been hunting this guy down for possibly two years and he's done inexcusable harm to children.

Several news article through Harrow Flash news: A girl's dead body was found near her home, presumed to be another victim of a killing spree targeting little girls

New evidence: tire marks, same as the marks found near where the girl's corpse was abandoned. The culprit seems to have kidnapped her by car, murdered her, and dumped her body near her home

 The person who killed 10 people in two years was the spoiled son of an upper-class citizen. He ran over an elementary-school girl and she died, which may have been concealed due to his father's power

It also fits with her theme of protecting others as opposed to Mikoto's theme of protecting himself. Murdering a serial killer who's done inexcusable harm on this level can make it harder to punish her in the future. She did a very, very good thing by taking this guy down.

Her smile also matches up with the shot in Undercover where she's presumedly beating someone to death.

— The Alley way

If we're discussing a potential victim here then it's more likely to be Mikio Oshii, the man she beats up in the alley way. However, I'm not convinced of this either because it's never given full confirmation.

An article from Harrow: "Mikio Oshii, a man wanted for theft was found unconscious yesterday night and taken to the hospital, his face and stomach beaten up. Footprints of a man's sneakers were found at the site, and the police are searching for a male culprit."

(transmasc kotoko so true!! handsome boy!!)

It's possible he could've died later in the hospital—like, genuinely I believe it, there's plenty of evidence, and I don't have a direct argument against it—but for the sake of this theory I don't think this is the case.

Unless Mikio laid a hand on her prior, tracking down to corner a thief and beating him until he's unconscious wouldn't constitute as self defense. If this was the case then why not show the audience?

As for the indirect murder part, there could be a debate over whether a death caused later constitutes as murder but I don't think it'd be an interesting debate.

It's also a pretty tame murder in the context of Milgram. Kotoko "I defeat evil doers" Yuzuriha beat up an old guy, didn't even finish the job, and he died by blood loss. Not only is this the legal definition of murder (Kotoko had the intent to harm + the victim died as a result of her wounds), the literal children of Milgram have done worse. When Amane wanted to kill someone she atleast brought a steel pipe and aimed for the head!

However, this isn't to say her victim isn't Mikio. Atleast, not entirely. The alley way matches closest with the Sendoku street and beating up someone is presented as her murder. This scene is definitely important to understanding case.

—So Like, What Is Her Murder Then?

Haha... remember in my original post when I this theory was half-baked and had little evidence? I can croon all I want about how it's not Takao or Mikio but she had to killed someone, y'know? There's no other character in Milgram where you couldn't reasonably guess the victim based off of the first trial alone. I've also noted why it still could've been either of them too. This also isn't conclusive evidence she didn't directly or indirectly murder them either.

Personally, I think Kotoko's crime should be an extension of Milgram prison, similarly to Fuuta. Her judge/jury/executioner vigilante traits fts this already but I think it could go even further. I'm thinking she might've turned to a higher authority and they recieved a lethal punishment of some kind? That's kind-of just my shot in the dark through.

Kotoko's case interests me the most because of how simple is appears to be while having so many elusive elements. For instance, who're the two girls and the man with the hammer? One of the girl's could've been Kotoko herself too which makes for an incredibly interesting backstory. There's also this line in her voice trailer:

Kotoko: "From the begin I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Which is strange because every voiceline happens before their time in Milgram. Who is she talking to and why does she need to defend herself while talking to them?

This conclusion is a bit of a mess but wow I'm really excited for Deep Cover. Recieving confirmation on anything is going to make me ecstatic. Inno Kotoko truther through and through I adore her.

[secretaccountlol]

“Occasionally, we don’t get to finish dinner.”

This is part 3 of food days, please click on my profile for part 1 and 2!

18+ no minors! Thanks.

Im so sorry that I haven’t been posting any new fanfic, I’ve just been a horrible art-block. I literally tripped my way thru this whole fic until the end haha. Food days is a comfort fic for me so it’s first I go to when I need to learn how to write again.

are you ready for some turbo angst?

Cw time: angst, a lot of it! Stalking, mentions of harassment, talks about readers former life (as a sex worker nothing graphic) , reader down playing her own trauma, self sabotage n self doubt. Fingering and unprotected sex. Oh! And typos :)

Your reblogs And comments are much appreciated.

3946 words.

Enjoy.

You grab one of the meal prep kits you made out of the fridge, Peter’s eyebrow quirks as he watches you put it in your bag.

“Where are you going hon? It’s not a work day?”

You hum as you grab a bottle of water, “Oh, I forgot to tell you.. I’ve been taking nurse classes.”

You turn to face him, you smile as Peter’s face is dumbfounded, “Why?“

“Uhm, because my boyfriend is a superhero? And he loves to get hurt and refuses to go to a hospital and I can only do so much with the basics- should I go on?”

You grip your bag handles as Peter’s face grimaces, “You don’t have to do that for me..” you sigh as you bend down to slip on your shoes, “Peter, how do you think I feel every time you come home, bleeding out and all I can do is try not to cry as I apply pressure to your wound?” Your eyes lift to meet his eyes, his lips are pressed into a thin line. Your hands grace the knob of your front door before you can turn it you feel Peter’s hand's ontop of yours.

“I’m sorry” Peter’s voice is low in your ear as you let your eyes trace his upper body to his face, though his face was serious, his eyes Fien guilty. “It’s fine, Pete. But I’m not the type to be helpless, or useless for that matter.”

“You’re not useless” Peter’s head moves to the side like a puppy. Your lips press into a thin line, “Plus, It can be useful to know this stuff just for everyday life, just in case. Never know when someone will have a stroke or a heart attack, you know?” Peter’s eyes piercing yours makes you gulp.

“Okay…”

You nod, turning away again, Peter’s hand grabs your wrist twisting you back to face him, “Peter, I’m going to be-“ his lips smash into yours, your hands grip his shirt as he roams your body. His tongue whirled against yours as he pushed you against the door, you try to pull back but Peter captures your lips again making you whimper.

His lips finally release yours, as you try to catch your breath

“P-peter please, I’m gonna be late!” His lips trailed down your neck, giving little love bites.

“I-I’m sorry.. I didn’t- God, I can’t control myself around you..” Peter’s eyes stay glued to your lips, before moving away uncaging you between the door, fixing your clothes as he sniffs.

“I meant to give you a kiss, g-goodbye but uhm.. I-I got carried away” Peter’s hands rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke averting his gaze from yours.

“Yeah, you did.” You speak flatly as Pete’s eyes lower in shame, you feel your heart tug.

You lift his chin, kissing his cheek then giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“It’s much appreciated though, I’ll be back soon.”

Peter waits for a moment, watching you cross the road before scrambling to put on his suit, He was out the window in seconds.

He knew he shouldn’t follow you, he knew you’d be pissed but he couldn’t help it. I mean what was the harm of making sure your girlfriend gets to her Destination safely, wasn’t like he was stalking her,

Cus it’s like chivalry or whatever.

His hands gripped the side of the building before leaping off in the direction you turned, he never realized how quickly you walked when you were trying to get somewhere. He watched as your legs switched left and right, as your head did the same watching out for potential dangers.

You captivated him, you made him swoon, The way you looked at him, the way you snored in your sleep, all of you just made him drool.

He sighs as he watches you grab a quick snack from the small stands that line every New York street before you make your way toward the above line station. His webs shoot onto the top of the train, he crouches to avoid being seen, He felt a strange sense of deja vu hanging on a train.

Soon he watched you run off the train recklessly jogging down the stairs before breaking into a mad dash down the street, if he wasn’t web-slinging he would have definitely lost you.

He chuckles softly as he watches you catch your breath before smoothing over your clothes and walking inside the mystery building.

He could feel the weight off his shoulder, you were safe, now he could leave. But, what about when you get out? What if someone hurt you when you left- no he couldn’t let that happen, not again.

Peter’s hands rest above his head, “Breath, Pete, breathe.” He could feel his body trembling as he took deep breaths, his hands slowly came to his side.

“God, I am so pathetic.” Peter’s hands smash into his eyes before blinking then pulling out his phone.

Me: Hey babe! Wanted to make sure you made it safely.

My love: Hi, yes I made it safely. Thanks for checking on me.

Me: Yay! Do you wanna get lunch when you get out?

My love: sure that sounds good.

Me: :C whyyy you type it like that, do you not lubbb spending time with meee?

My love: I love spending time with you, Peter. You know that.

Me: yeah I know.

Me: what time should I pick you up?

My love: 3:00 pm Gtg class is starting, please don’t worry about me so much, I have a taser for a reason.

Me: Can’t help it, see you at 3:00.

Spidey straightens up, “Enough moping spider, you got a job to do!” With that, he took a leap.

-

Spider-Man checked his watch, 2:00 pm..

“Well, might as well be early..Sorry to leave you hangin’ but I have a date with a smokin’ hot babe!” Peter’s words pierce the webbed criminals with anger as he swings away, making sure to swipe some chocolates on the way.

A quick change in the alleyway, and he stood in front of your building at 2:30 pm, tapping his foot to an invisible melody.

A sudden ring of his phone makes Peter scramble to answer it.

“Hey, baby!”

“Hey, Peter. I’m probably going to be late- the classes ended earlier than expected- Peter?”

“In the flesh, with chocolates!” His hands extend to you holding out your favorite sweets as your mouth is ajar.

“Peter…” You slowly hang up on the phone, sliding it into your purse.

“Yes, my love?” Peter’s cheery voice set you off even more.

“Peter, I never told you where my nurse class took place.” You watch as Peter’s face morphed into horror.

“Peter, d-did you follow me?”

“I-..I can explain?” Peter’s voice was just above a whisper, as his eyes cast downwards.

You sigh as you straighten up, “I guess this means we’re getting food to go..”

-

Your ride home with Peter was silent, all the way up to the front steps of your apartment.

“I don’t.. have my key on me cus I used the window..” Peter’s voice barely broke the silence, you just nod and open the door.

Silence once more as you both set the living room table of food, it’s a practically tradition now. The table was now deliciously decorated with various side dishes and fajita meats.

Each of you reaches for a Tortilla, fingers gracing each other’s hands.

“Sorry”

“M’sorry”

You and Peter’s eyes lock onto each other, hands still hovering over the tortillas.

“Peter..”

“Yes..?”

“I-..I’m” your eyes scan his face, he looked like a hurt puppy. His lips in a slight pout, puppy eyes attached with tears, a new small cut dons his slightly bruised lips.

God, he looks so cute right now. You clear your throat, focus.

“Peter, I-..I’m not that upset at you, you know?” You sighed, your eyes cast down at the food again.

“Yo-you’re not?”

“I-…I understand why you did it, you’re a superhero. People want to hurt you, which means people also want to hurt me” you pause, eyebrows arching, what a sobering thought.

“So- I know why, you wanted to protect me, make sure I got there safe.” Your eyes met his again, Peter’s body was practically hanging on to your words.

“But, you know how I feel about my privacy and how I feel about being… w-watched unknowingly.” You could feel your emotions well up, tears stinging. “I-I ..just wished you’d talk to me about it..” you sucked in air through your teeth, stay strong, don’t cry if you cry he won’t take you seriously, he’ll say you're overreacting, he’ll say you didn’t give him a choice.

“Have I been unreasonable or so weak? For you to undermine me like this, Peter? Have we not always talked things out, hm? I mean you know how scared I am when you go out there! But I don’t follow you around, do I?!” Your words came out in a hiss, venom coated your tongue, it made you want to gag.

Peter whispered your name, softly grasping your hand before you pulled away. “I didn’t mean to undermine you, it-it was totally spare of the moment and I’ve never followed you before, this was the first time, I swear.”

You bite your lip, feeling the metallic taste fill your mouth, “why’d you do it?”

“I-..” you watch as Peter’s eyes search your face, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I’ve.. lost some people, family…friends, lovers- because I wasn’t- I wasn’t attentive enough, and ..some bad people.. took them from me. I just- wanted to make sure you got there safe, hun.” Peter's watery eyes made contact with yours, you felt vile.

God, how could you be so selfish? “I-..I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t know.” You whispered, you couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Hey, it’s okay. I mean I-I never told you about it, so don’t feel bad. You’re right I should have said something about it..but hey, we should eat before our food gets cold.” The warmth in his voice returned, yours did not.

“I..I’m not hungry anymore, I’m gonna go lay down. Please eat though..” You spoke softly as you rose from the floor, slowly walking into your room.

Your hands shook as you closed the door.

Why? Why? Why were you like this?

“What the fuck is wrong with me..?” You muttered.

Peter cares about you, he’s never once been mean or said hurtful shit to you, never once argued but you have to go and try to fuck it up. You remember your therapist saying that self-sabotage was a thing but you’d never thought you’d do it to Peter, Spider-Man of all people.

You let your fall back onto the door, hard. Before undressing to fall into the bed, clothes thrown whatever to the floor, you didn’t care where. Soon you were just in your underwear.

Usually, you like to fill the whole bed with your body, and stretch out. you felt like you needed to take advantage of it, plus it was fun, made you feel like a little kid again. You never had a big bed growing up, and your adult years weren’t much better, until now.

Something about being in the Fetal Position made you feel weak, tiny, and insecure.

“Stupid..” you sighed. Huddling yourself to the corner of your bed.

“What’s stupid?” You felt the cover dip as he spoke.

“Nothing thinking out loud” you sniffed, sinking under your blankets more, you didn’t want him to see your tears, to see you weaken.

The covers began to shift, cracks of light poked yours before you gripped them, closing them shut.

“No.”

“..I-“

“I don’t want to get up right now..”

“I’m not goin’ to make get up, I just want to see your face..”

“No.. I don’t want to see my face either.”

“Why? I love your face.”

“Because.. I-I just don’t want to, Pete. Please..”

You wanted to finish with “leave me alone” but you couldn’t cough the words up in time.

You couldn’t feel him next to you anymore, you sighed in relief, sniffing. You needed to be alone, you deserved to be alone, you sniffed again as your tears started to flow.

You felt the cold air hit your back freezing you in place, soon your body felt a warm wall against it.

Fingers brush against your waist, sending tingles down your spine.

His lips grace your shoulder, “I’m not mad at you.” You bite your lip, scooting away from his touch only to get swallowed by it again.

His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you completely to his chest, “Mm, nope. I’ll be here as long as I need to be to make you smile again.”

You sniffled, “I’m sorry..” you sob as Peter peppered kisses down your skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out, “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn't, it's okay.”

“I’msoselfish, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You are not selfish, it’s okay.”

“Please don’t leave me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry”

“I’ll never leave you, never.”

Your sobs turned slowly, whispers, then hiccups as you slowly drift to sleep.

-

“Baby..babe” your eyes flutter as you groan.

“Pete?”

“Mornin’.” His hands brush your cheek as you stare up at him.

“M-morning?”

Peter’s thumb softly rubs the sleep from your eyes, kissing your forehead. “Sleep well, love? I got you some tea for your throat.” You sat up as you grabbed the tea, staring into the abyss of the cup.

The memories of you being a blubbering mess in his arms last night flood your systems, you felt like shit all over again, tears silently started to slip into your cup.

“I’m sorr-“

“No.”

You shudder looking up at Peter, his eyes were a brown ocean.

“But I-“

“Stop” his hands gently taking the tea from your hands.

“Peter, please- I just-“

His lips pressed against yours gently, like you were glass.

“You don’t need to tell me more about your past, at least not until you're comfortable enough.” Peter's thumb stroked your lip.

“I-I am comfortable..” your hand wraps around his, kissing his palm. “I want to tell you..”

You watch as Peter chews his lip, “Okay..shoot.”

“I..well. I-I had this customer, he was a regular. S-sometimes we wouldn’t even have sex.. we would just talk, it was nice.” You smiled picking at your fingers as you talked. “He was always so sweet and a little awkward but we all were once, y’know? But I always thought it was a bit strange that all his dates would fall flat. He would say, ‘oh they weren’t the right one’ when I asked. Soon, he asked me out on a date. It was okay, I had fun but he asked me to stop doing sex work which was my only job so of course I said no. I thought that would be it, y’know?”

You sucked in air, “ Of- of course it wasn’t though, to make a long story short. He started stalking me, showing up at my apartment, breaking my windows, even showing up at other clients' houses to harass me. Luckily, some of my customers were well off, bless them. They helped me with the harassment case and even got some of the other girls to testify. He’s been locked up ever since. ” Your eyes peeked at his, “Please don’t think less of me..” your eyes drifted back down to your fingers.

“I would never, you know that.” Peter’s gentle voice made you glance at him once more, watched as his lips trembled and his eyes watered.

You sigh, “ I mean it wasn’t that serious- I-I didn’t get rap-“

“Stop. Stop downplaying your struggles!” Peter’s sudden uptick in voice made you tremble, his eyes softened, lowering his voice. “Stalking is a very serious thing and clearly it caused you trauma. You don’t have to be strong with me, you’re allowed to be weak and You’re allowed to cry.” Peter’s hands cup your cheeks, “Being a couple means being vulnerable, with each other. I-I’ll try as long as you do too.” Your eyes softened as he spoke.

“O-okay.”

“Can I kiss you?” Peter’s lips hovered just above yours

You could smell his minty breath.

“Yes please.”

Kisses lips slotted against yours, hands sliding up and down your torso. “P-Peter.” Your hands fiddle with his shirt.

“Yes, love?” He grins as he speaks, “I-I-! Can we ..y’know?” His eyes flicker to your lips then back to your eyes as you speak, smirking.

“I don’t know, mind telllin’ me what’s on your mind?” His voice was low as he licked his lips, god you hated when he did this.

“Peeeteee! Don’t make me say it!” You whined, your hands picked at the hem of his shirt,

“I can’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.” His fingers rubbed circles in your skin as teased you.

“I-I wanna.. have …sex, please?” Your voice was barely a whisper, your eyes trained on the floor.

“Ooh, she has manners. Such a good girl” his hand gently tipped your face up toward his.

“Of course, we can have sex, thought you’d never ask.” Peter chuckled.

His hands roamed your body, “Lucky me I don’t have to take any extra clothes off, straight to business. “ he snapped your waistband, making you squeal then focused on his shirt and pants.

“I love you.” Peter’s eyes connected with yours, “ I know”

“Do you now?” Pete’s chuckles warmed your heart as he climbed on top of you. “I’ll really make sure you’ll understand tonight.” His words sent a shiver down your spine.

Peter’s hand slipped into your panties, pawing at your clit you sigh at the soft contact.

“So pretty.” Peter’s gentle circles matched his voice, “Do you mind takin’ your bra off for me, love?” You simply nod, pulling off your bra before covering your chest.

“Can.. we turn off the light?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Cus- I’m embarrassed..” you could feel the sweat forming on your skin as you stared into his eyes.

“Mm, why?” Peter’s free hand slipped between one of your hands covering your chest to fondle one of your boobs.

Your mouth makes shapes but only little noises come fluttering out, you pout as Peter laughs at you.

“No worries, I getcha” he winks as your eyebrows pinch together. “Then why'd you ask?!” fake irritation in your voice.

“Cus I like messin’ with ya.” his nose bumping yours slightly as he captures your lips. His hands traveled down again to your panties, pulling them swiftly down as his lips bombarded yours.

You pull away for air, “Pet-” you groan as his fingers enter you slowly, abducting your will to speak. “Sweetest sound I know.” Peter’s eyes were lowered with lust as he picked up the pace. Your pants became more vocal as his fingers pumped, “I-ah! Peter- plea-!” Your hands wrapped around his wrist, you could feel your legs going haywire.

“Please what? God, you’ve never been this sensitive before. Is it because we haven’t done it in a while?” You arch as he spoke, unable to answer him, trying to desperately move his fingers faster, whining at his pace, it was but not fast enough.

“P-please more! Mm- I - can’t!” You threw your head back as his thumb hit your clit in the perfect spot. “Cant cum? Oh, that’s intentional.” His fingers pulled away from your aching hole, your whine of dismay made him vibrate with desire.

“Shh, I got ya” his hands gripped your sides as he lined himself up, letting you adjust to his size. You shake as his cock jerks suddenly, your face no longer controllable.

“See, this is why I can't turn the lights off. I would miss this gorgeous face of yours.” you could feel his cock pulse inside you as he watched your face squeeze together.

“A-shut up, f-fuck me, Pete!” your hands weakly hit his chest as you attempt you grind against his cock, urgent for more friction.

“Aw, so bossy. Your wish is my command!” Peter's lips smacked against yours as his speed made you see stars in seconds. His tongue swallowed yours as you wailed.

“Gonna c-cum already, love?” you nodded as he spoke, tears in your eyes made it hard for you to see his face. “D-don't worry I'll make it even easier for you.” before you could process what he meant, you were screaming his name as he pounded into you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt his cum spill inside of you, your nails scratching his chest as your head tilted back.

“Oh- God…!” you croaked, eyes fluttering, “ That was..really good Pete.”

“I-I've never come that fast before, I guess I'm a bit sensitive too. “ you chuckle at his bewilderment, tracing circles in his hair.

“Well, it's welcomed. But now I do need to shower to get your cum outta me. So would you kindly remove yourself from me?” you hummed, giving him a smirk.

“I have a gift for you before you do that tho, one sec!” His hands gently helped you off his penis. You watch as he scrambled out the door before producing a teddy bear.

The teddy bear was dressed in spiderman gear equipped with a mask and all. In the teddy’s hands was a box, your eyes lit up.

“I love stuffed animals, Pete! How’d you know?” You faked a suspicious eye.

“Lucky guess I swear.” your hands brush against his as you take the bear into your arms, plucking the box way in its hands.

“What's this?” you hugged the bear pinning it to your chest as you picked at the box, sneaking a glance at Peter who was clearly nervous.

“Oh! Mr. Bear must have grabbed it for you as a gift- you.. should uh, open it!” Peter's hand rubbed the back of his neck.

You giggled as you opened the box, and two beautiful crimson diamonds blessed your eyes. One is a necklace with a dainty gold and white chain the other was a ring with a black band, with amazing little rich blue sapphires surrounding it.

You gasped, “Peter!”

“Before you say anything! I handcrafted everything in a friend of mine's lab, including the diamonds. I got the sapphires from a jewelry store I helped stop a robbery. I-i also made us matching pairs.” you watched as his cheeks redden.

“Peter- It’s lovely. Bu-”

“I-I'm not finished yet. I-...” Peter sighs, “I- put a tracking device in both of our rings and necklaces. You told me you get worried c-cus you don’t know if I’ll come back and I get worried when I can’t be with you all the time. This way we can both ease our worries, plus if you want you can take it off and not wear it if you want! I promise I won’t follow you if you do.”

Your eyes searched his face, his eyes were firm but soft, it made you melt. Your hands took the ring, “So, is this an engagement ring then?” You held it up, twirling it in your fingers.

“If.. you want it to be.” Peter squeaked.

“Mm, only if you put it on my finger.” You grinned as you watched Peter get on one knee, whispering your name.

“Will you give me the honor of being your fiancé?”

“Yes, of course.”

Peter grins as he slips the ring unto your finger, before tackling you to the bed with a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you, Peter Parker.”

“I'm starving, we should eat those leftover tacos.”

Tags: @theorgansarerotting

[yukinarinn]

Hi! I was just wondering if you could do relationship headcanons (SFW and NSFW if youre okay with that) for Makoto Naegi with his childhood friend! Short! Fem s/o! Who had chronic pain and who uses a cane? (If you're okay with mentions of self harm scars, would that be okay to include?) Thank you!

I wonder if something similar happened to you if you requested it.. if so, I’m so sorry and I hope everything’s okay now! I’m uh not good at making headcanons and guess what lol, this is my first time so I really hope you’ll enjoy it. please tell me if you want me to change anything! <3

I actually had this in my drafts but I lost motivation to write something on here, I also thought that I’ll leave this blog and in general tumblr. But here we are! please feel free to request anything you want!

cw: mentions of cane/s3lf h3rm scars, a 24/7 worried Makoto lol, childhood friend, fluff, nsfw, mentions of handcuffs, (slight) praise

SFW

Makoto is so worried about you, tbh

like, since you’re his childhood friend and btw, his girlfriend, he took good care of you since then!

he even asked you if he can help you walking, he asked this too many times.

and you always refuse it and told him that it’s fine since you use the cane

Makoto seems like he gets attached to people very easily, he literally fell hard for you just because he takes care of you!

he spends so much time with you though, giving you food and everything you need. He’s so scared in even leaving you for a second.

I’m serious, if it’s happening him leaving you for some minutes to make food or I don’t know.. take a shower, and he’s hearing something weird coming from your room, he’ll be right there

“Y-YN??! Are you okay sweetie? I’ll go call the-“

“Makoto, I’m fine. I just changed my shirt”

LMAO

Gives you hugs and a lot of affection

When it comes to your scars.. he gets freaked out and doesn’t know what to do

Especially when he cuddles with you and accidentally touches them

“YN!! I-I’m so sorry darling! did it hurt? does it bleed already?! I’ll go grab the banda-“

And you shut him up by kissing him passionately

Don’t worry, he’s not calm even if you’re sleeping. You need to reassure him that everything is fine with you for him to actually fall asleep

NSFW

I mean.. Makoto is 100% into vanilla sex, that’s it

Just because he doesn’t want to hurt you, of course

He can be a little kinky, like, tying you with those flully pink handcuffs he owns for special ocassions

He tries to not touch your scars tho.. that are already healed..

Makoto’s a switch!! but usually he takes the control, seeing you this vulnerable in his bed makes him go insane

But not anymore when he hears you moaning, thinking it’s because of your chronic pain

“Is everything okay? I can remove the handcuffs fro-“

Since you can’t talk cuz of how good he’s doing u, you just force him to kiss you, enough for him to understand that the moan was coming from the pleasure he gives to you

Pretty good at dirty talk if you ask me, he praises the fuck outta you when the pleasure hits him

“F-Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I-I’m gonna cum!”

Aand this turns you on, it would turn you on even more if he degraded you

But Makoto can’t degrade his girlfriend even if she wants to, he thinks he’ll hurt you

Plus he’s soft and you can’t tell me otherwise

Makoto is perfect at aftercare! he’ll give you what you need and cuddle with you after

He’s going to only fall asleep when you already fell asleep <3