#don’t they know I’m sensitive about that song and this CITY

[machihunnicutt]

literally just got to seattle and a guy was playing both sides now in pike place market 😭💕🫣

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

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[yhwh-jas]

Important Message From Spirit🦋

The Piles:

Book A Personal Reading Here

The collective is in this very emotional energy. It’s like feeling so imaginative, passionate, in love (even if you don’t have a lover), & so sad and lonely at the same time. We’ve been feeling everything so deeply and our intuition is extremely heightened during this time. We’re very sensitive to energies and other peoples feelings, even our own feelings. This reading is timeless so whenever you come across this, it’ll be meant for you.

♡Pile One♡:

Based off the picture you chose I feel like you might’ve found love in the city, out of town (or they were out of town), you could be from a city or the other way around, but overall there’s this energy of looking for spiritual love. You want a deep connection that connects you to deeper parts of yourself. For some of you it could be that maybe you are finding love within yourself and learning to live in your truth. I see you expressing yourself authentically and being open and honest about how you feel and what you’re thinking. I also see some of you having a conversation with someone who will be expressing how they truly feel for you.

Channeled Song: We Found Love -Rihanna ft. Calvin Harris ( when she says “we found love in a hopeless place”) Hey There Lonely Girl -Eddie Holman (when he says “hey there lonely girl, lonely girl, don’t you know this lonely boy loves you”.) , Confidence -Ocean Alley (when he says “It’s all about confidence, babyyy”.)

I’m seeing you in this soft, nurturing energy. You’re loving yourself more, taking care of those around you, for some of you taking care of your kid(s), family, & the things you cherish most. You’re feeling really appreciative or you will be. I also see that someone has really nice eyes. Could be blue, light brown, or greenish hazel. Spirit is saying that you’ve been really patient, dedicated, & efficient. You’re putting in efficient effort into your priorities, goals, & connections. For some of you I’m hearing you’re focusing on nature or connecting with animals, taking care of animals/pets. Take that how it resonates. You’re reaping some type of reward for your hard work and discipline and it’s related to a relationship or important connection in your life. I’m hearing you’ve healed something that was hurting you and you’ve learned to love yourself and the things around you more deeply. You’ve connected to your roots and strengthened your faith and in doing this, you’ve removed illusions and feelings of confusion because you’re more grounded within your energy. You were feeling stuck in a temporary situation and it could’ve been in a connection for some of you. It was causing anxiety, stress, fear, & imbalance in your life. It definitely took up a lot of your thoughts and I’m seeing a change happening where you’re taking back your power and gaining control over your mind. Now isn’t the time for you to do anything impulsive or risky. Like diving into some kind of situation that you know isn’t good for you, that will resonate for some of you. It’s like someone left you out in the cold, kicked you while you were down, wasn’t there for you when you needed them most and everytime you’re thriving, looking good, healthy etc. they want to come back in and try to trick you into focusing on them or what you could’ve had with them. Don’t let this person in your energy for those that resonate with this. For my feminines I feel like you’re finally tapping back into your loving, compassionate, and nurturing energy. You’ve manifested communication with someone that you share a deep connection with and I’m sensing you really trust this person or you will. It can be a friend, lover, family, whatever. There’s distance between you and I feel like you’ve both been alone for some time. You’ve spent time in solitude, self reflecting, and so has this person. Trust your intuition and how you feel. I feel like this is a connection that is meant to heal you and it will bring you so much joy and happiness. it is the type of connection that will heal your inner child and bring back out your creativity. I feel like whenever you met or got closer to each other you both were in a period of your life where there was a lack of faith and hope. It’s like where hard times meet and end for the both of you. Not necessarily end, but they get so much easier to deal with when you’re with this person or have each other in your lives. Both of you could’ve grew up in families, or in an urban city/ place that was of low income. This connection is divinely guided. For those of you where this is a romantic situation, I see them hiding how they truly feel about you behind this cold demeanor because they’re still learning how they feel so they can better understand it. However, they are very honest and blunt with you. I feel like they could be a little distant at times or when you communicate with them it’s very quick and doesn’t necessarily last for that long. The conversations are short between you. They’re very patient and kind towards you. I feel like they really value this connection with you. Romantically speaking, they want to take their time with you and I see them wanting a very long-term commitment with you. For others there is some type of investment that you and this person are working towards together and it will be successful spirit is saying. Things might feel stagnant like they are moving slow or not exactly going at the pace that you want but I feel like this is the pace that you need.

This person feels a little bit stuck right now because they are gaining clarity about how they feel and trying to figure out a way to offer you something. it’s like they’re trying to figure out a way to communicate with you that they want a relationship with you, and they want to be able to invest in a future with you but they need a little bit of time to come forward, but they will. For others I feel like there are some type of ideas or plans that are being made and this person involved needs time to be able to think about what they wanna do and how they wanna go about these plans. Romantically they don’t wanna lose you. They are already sad as it is because I feel like they know that you’re holding back a deeper part of yourself, and they want to see and experience that deeper part of you. They want you to express your love for them and they want you to be nurturing and I’m seeing that they think that you are their person and they are hiding how they feel because of fear. They’re also letting go of bad habits and their pride. What’s next for you guys in romantic situations, I see this person coming in fast and they’re ready to tell you how they feel because I feel like they can’t see life without you in it you make them so happy and having you in their life feels like a blessing. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow but it’s coming really really soon. For those of you in other situations that aren’t romantic I see this person getting really inspired by something and that specific idea or feeling that they have, they’re going to tell you about it and it’s going to be something that is really smart and it will make the both of you very happy. For those of you who have kids and it’s not with this person, I see you getting in a relationship with them and they’re being very loving and supportive with you and your child or children. They want to take care of you.

♡━━━♡━━━♡

♡Pile Two♡:

Based off the picture you chose I feel like you’ve been very emotional and tapping into a deep part of yourself. You could be spending time alone, meditating, & learning more about who you are and what you believe in. Spirit is helping you learn to be more honest with yourself and others about how you feel and developing healthy ways of expressing it. Life could be flowing easily and I’m getting this energy of peace and serenity.

Channeled Song: No Air - Jordin Sparks ft. Chris Brown (the part where she says “if I should die before I wake, it’s cause you took my breath away. Losing you is like living in a world with no air.”)

There’s a connection in your life that you’ve been really patient about and I feel like things haven’t progressed the way you wanted. I’m hearing you put so much energy into it, but this person involved hasn’t shown up and offered you anything. You’ve put your focus and intention on loving yourself and those you cherish. You’re also focused on your responsibilities. 1111 can be significant. Communication, understanding, and honesty has been so hard with this person because when you try to talk to them it’s like they come off so cold and turn everything into a disagreement. They give you the cold shoulder and try to undermine you. I’m seeing that they always make it seem like things are harder for them and don’t consider your feelings, what you’re thinking, or even what you’re saying. It’s like talking to them is a losing game. However you’ve been independent, determined, confident, loving, & nurturing. You haven’t let this situation affect you. Or at least you aren’t anymore. You’re standing your ground. I’m seeing you manifesting clarity & you’re learning a very important lesson here. This person hurt you and has no intention of showing up the way you need them to. This could be a past person for a lot of you. They were blocking your blessings because you’ve held on and waited for them meanwhile they didn’t acknowledge it. You felt stuck and didn’t want to free yourself because you loved them. However it caused a lot of anxiety, confusion, indecision, & fear for you. It imbalanced your spiritual and emotional side. For a lot of you it’s that there’s a past person you’re holding onto that must be let go of in order for your blessing to be revealed. There are illusions and deceit in your life. Maybe it’s you just deceiving yourself because you know this person isn’t good for you. You’re self sabotaging yourself by allowing someone who’s only holding you back stick around. You don’t need this person, you want them. They don’t benefit you. You were drowning in emotion trying to save this person and just simply love them, but I’m hearing it’s time to let go. If you love something let it go, if it comes back to you then it’s for you, but if it doesn’t then you’ll know. Sometimes people will come back just for unhealthy reasons tho but when I say come back I mean come back and show up. Im hearing you take no chances of missing out. You’ll love someone for as long as you possibly can. You’ve been tossed to the side, left behind, lied to, and pushed away, but you still love endlessly. It’s time for that chapter of your life to end. You’re stepping into a new phase of your life and all that being breadcrumbed, confused, misled, lied to, and manipulated is in the past. You’re setting boundaries and you no longer tolerate it. I’m seeing you have the upper hand in a situation and you’re abundant. With energy, resources, whatever it is you may be abundant in you are able to share this with people who need it. I’m hearing you’re generous with your time and energy and you don’t mind spending quality time with those who need a light in their life. There is multiple energies around you. Multiple people who want your attention. I’m seeing you have your eyes set on what you want and you know exactly what that is. You want a deep connection with someone you can trust and commit to. I’m hearing you’ve checked out. You’ve put your emotions aside and now you’re giving off more of this intellectual energy. More aware, understanding, honest, smart, strategic, & blunt. You have very good discernment. Especially when it comes to other people’s energies and what is good for you and what isn’t. Trust what you know. Right now I’m having a hard time getting your messages out and I feel like spirit is saying the focus is you. You are the main highlight right now and you’re stepping into this divine feminine energy. If you don’t have feminine energy you’re stepping into a more intuitive, empathetic, nurturing energy. You are a healer whether you know it or not but you attract people who need you and your energy.

Just be careful not to let others drain you. Whatever blessings are coming for you spirit isn’t revealing too much. You’re diving deep into self reflection and spiritual awareness and I’m seeing you aren’t focused on love or relationships. Those come when you aren’t expecting it. Right now spirit is teaching you important lessons.

♡━━━♡━━━♡

♡Pile Three♡:

Based off the picture you chose I’m getting this energy of you feeling a bit melancholic and nostalgic in a bittersweet way. You’re spending time alone and focusing on tapping in with yourself because you’ve been feeling detached and disconnected from your feelings, maybe even your surroundings.

Channeled Song: Lose Control -Teddy Swims (specifically heard the part when he says “problematic, problem is I want your body like a fiend, like a bad habit. Bad habits hard to break when I’m with you. Yeah I know I can do it on my own, but I want that real full moon black magic, and it takes two.”)

I’m seeing that there are outside factors disrupting your life. It’s like situations that happen may feel like nothing ever goes your way. You’re holding back so much love and emotion and in this energy of hiding your love, hiding how you feel, being closed off emotionally, & feeling like you’re having a hard time letting go of emotions from your past. Maybe you’re having a hard time letting go of the way someone has made you feel. It’s like the feeling of rejection is weighing on you and maybe because of that hurt you’re isolating yourself and feeling lonely. You’re keeping yourself from being able to open up emotionally in connections. You know how you feel and why it is you feel the way you do but you’re still holding onto that hurt due to fear and anxiety. There is someone that God has for you and I’m seeing they will help you see through the illusions of your own emotions. Maybe even your pride is in the way. However this person is very emotionally intelligent and understanding they can just come off as very private at times. They know when to speak and they’re both logical and Intuitive when it comes to expressing themselves. They can be very passionate and flirty at times and sometimes be very rash about what they say or do. There’s a feeling either you’re feeling like you aren’t being appreciated enough or they are but I feel like spirit is telling you to step it up. Don’t hold back. Be open and free spirited. Allow yourself to feel and enjoy the feeling of love. Maybe you overthink too much at times and don’t allow yourself to feel. Some of you take your person for granted by not being emotionally there and making sure their needs are being met too. You’re very guarded about letting them in because of your boundaries. Spirit wants you to do what brings you joy. Don’t keep the sun out of your life because you’ve been hurt. I’m also hearing that no matter how other people act or what they say, never stop being you. You can come off with this very rigid and vain energy at times and I’m hearing it’s your ego. Listen to your intuitive side and give the love you want to give. Don’t listen to your fear. You are holding yourself back from receiving the love spirit wants you to receive. You’re hurting yourself because you won’t open up about how you feel to someone. I feel like you avoid conflicts and have a fear that you opening up about how you feel will start an argument. Know that hiding how you feel and refusing to communicate will only make things worse for you. It’s okay to feel passionate and excited. It’s okay to want someone and it’s okay to express how you feel to that person. I also feel like you don’t open up when you’re sad and you try to hide everything. Not everyone can read your mind. If you feel really overwhelmed take some time for yourself and then open up when you feel ready. Try to balance yourself out so your love life can be balanced as well. The more you’re in harmony with yourself and in tune with your emotions the more your love life improves. You miss opportunities when you refuse to make a choice and stay in a period of inaction. If you know what you want then act on it instead of letting the world make decisions for you. You will feel so much better when you allow yourself to do what you feel guided to do. Treat your partner with lovingly and morally. I feel like you want marriage and there is someone you deeply love in your life. This connection has the potential to lead to marriage. All you have to do is be honest. Even if this relationship doesn’t work out with the person you have in your life right now, you being honest and open will help you evolve and learn new lessons you need in order to move forward. I am seeing a positive result coming from your honesty though. Be sure that you know what you want before you act on it and plan your approach before taking action. All you need is confidence, courage, and drive. I feel like you’re picky about your lovers and so is this person. You both need independence and your own alone time.

Spirit is saying to be patient when it comes to this person. You both feel the same about each other honestly. I feel like if you say I love you to each other it’s genuine. If you haven’t said it yet you both love each other unconditionally. You’re ready to move forward and come towards your person. You might be scared because financially maybe you don’t feel stable and that creates insecurity within you but know that it’s okay. You don’t have to feel insecure about it with this person. Or with anyone for that matter. You may not be where you want to be financially but you don’t have to let that stop you. They think you are very intelligent and it’s a turn on for them. They are so attracted to the way you think and I feel like they admire the way you see life. They feel like you are their person and the relationship with you is very strong. It’s best to treat each other with gentleness and empathy because this relationship is very passionate so sometimes if not treated the right way anger or frustration can be an issue. You both want the traditional structured relationship and I’m seeing very high potential for this to happen. Be positive and do what you feel guided to do!! Pile one might resonate with some of you.

♡━━━♡━━━♡

♡Pile Four♡:

Based off the picture you chose I feel like you’re gaining clarity on a situation you didn’t see clearly before. Spirit is showing you the truth about something you’ve been feeling and it might be a truth that hurts, but it also lifts a weight that was holding you back or stagnant. It doesn’t have to be a truth that hurts though, that’s only for some!

Channeled Song: Counting Stars -OneRepublic (it’s crazy to me because in this song he says “in my face is flashing signs, seek it out and ye shall find.” And obviously lightning flashes)

You’re feeling a bit sad and disappointed because of a situation that happened in the recent past. I feel like you’re focused on the hurt rather than the positive side of things. Spirit is saying there are opportunities that are for you right now but you aren’t seeing them because you’re focused on negative feelings. However there is a wish fulfillment or something happening for you that will inspire you and give you hope. It’s like a divine revelation. You must get out of your own way. There are negative thoughts and fears circling your mind and this leads to self sabotage and constant hopelessness. There is abundance, love, happiness, and so much more waiting for you but you must let go of your worries. It’s easier said than done but when you tell yourself there is better you will eventually start to believe it. I see a romantic connection in store for a lot of you. For others I feel like a truth about a connection in your life has been revealed and it’s made you sad but it was for your own good. Things haven’t progressed the way you want them to but it’s because you aren’t focused on watering whatever it is you want to grow. I feel like some of you got clarity about how you feel towards someone and because you’re focused on how disappointed you are from other situations you’re not focused on this person. However they are abundant, nurturing, empathetic, intuitive, supportive, and understanding. They have love for you and I feel like they will understand how you feel if you open up to them. For others you’re not watering yourself enough. You aren’t loving yourself or realizing how much of an inspiring, kind, intelligent, divine being you are. Spirit wants you to devote more time and energy to yourself. I feel like communication with someone is happening very soon and there will be clarity and understanding in this conversation. Things will be balancing themselves out pretty quickly but there is a need for honesty. Take that however it resonates. I feel like some of you feel pessimistic about love and moving forward in life but spirit wants you to open up and enjoy the beauty of it. There are better times ahead and I feel like you are going to be receiving some type of good karma for all the hard work you’ve done in the past. You’ve been through so much and God is blessing you with something that will bring you so much peace. Just try to open yourself up to it and let go of the unnecessary burdens you’ve been carrying. Whatever hardships you’ve been facing I see you overcoming them and coming out stronger, more confident, & resilient. I also see you letting go of bad habits and making commitments to a very important job, person, or investment in your life. There will be plenty of opportunities coming your way.

♡━━━♡━━━♡

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I get a 7 with Steve Rogers or Peter Parker? I love the nice guys being angsty

And congrats on the 5000

.⋆｡Noise｡⋆.

Peter Parker x plus size reader

You don’t like the quiet, Peter does

Warnings: angst, noise sensitivity, college!Peter, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

Silence was your worst enemy, although you never really understood why you hated it. Whether that be the awkward silence during a lull in conversation or at 3am when the city quieted down. There had to be some kind of noise around you for you to feel at ease, usually it was music from your headphones or the chatter of other people but that wasn’t the case in Peter Parker’s room.

Somehow his room was the one place in all of New York that seemed to be above all the noise of the city. There were no sirens or voices or just random noises from the subway. Just silence.

And it was slowly driving you crazy. 

At first, the sound of your fingernails tapping your keyboard soothed you. It was rhythmic and just quiet enough to not disturb your best friend as he was studying. Then you moved onto bouncing your leg, which given that you were wearing socks and the whole room was carpeted, you could make almost no noise.

You sighed and shifted in your seat, becoming antsy as the silence seemed to close in around you. You could feel Peter’s eyes flick up to you occasionally but he never said anything so you started doing the only thing you could think of to create some noise. You began to hum.

The vibrations rumbled through your chest, immediately soothing the panicked feelings around your heart. Your shoulders dropped with relief and you finally felt like you were able to concentrate on the work in front of you instead of just mindlessly typing away to appear busy. 

You switched songs every 30 seconds or so, nodding your head along to the beat you were creating. Your usual smile began to pull at your lips as, unnoticed by you, Peter’s face fell and his eyebrows scrunched. 

He cleared his throat but you didn’t hear. “Y/N?” You looked back at him, pausing your humming for just a second. “Do you think you could be a little quieter please?” 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You responded bashfully with a giggle. Peter breathed a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall behind his bed. He gave you a half-smile to which you winked at him before turning back to your work.

Things were quiet again save for the occasional turning of a page or alert on your phones and you started to feel that discomfort creeping in again. Like a massive weight slowly coming down onto your torso, the anxiety grew once more. Your eyes darted over your essay but you couldn’t comprehend any of the words that you had written.

Your breathing picked up as your heart pounded loudly in your ears though it did not give you the relief that other noises would have. You swallowed thickly, clamping your jaw shut tightly. Maybe a little noise would be okay, you thought as you brought a hand to your chest to where your shirt didn’t cover.

The soft tapping of your fingers against your bare skin was barely louder than your racing heartbeat but it worked. Your body eased as you picked up the pace, finally getting the relief you desperately needed. You hadn’t even noticed Peter’s frown deepening, the vein in his neck twitching with aggravation.

“How are you this fucking annoying?” Everything stopped and your veins turned to ice. 

“I-I’m sorry.” You managed to squeak out around the massive lump in your throat. Even Peter looked shocked at what he said, his brown eyes wide with terror. “I think I should head home, my roommate will get worried if I’m not there after dark.”

You tried to grab your tote bag from the floor but before you could even touch the canvas handle, Peter had sprung from the bed and caught your hand. “Wait I didn’t mean-“ You shook your head and swallowed back your tears, you couldn’t talk about this now.

“I know I’m noisy okay, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” You tried to pull yourself away but his grip tightened. “Peter.” Your voice wobbled but he didn’t give you an inch.

“No, no I’m sorry. I was being an asshole.” He gently pulled you towards him and you let him wrap you up in his strong arms, needing some sort of comfort even from the person that had hurt you in the first place.

“Then why did you say that?” You murmured, slowly melting into his chest. Peter held your wide hips gently, brushing the tops of your thighs through your clothes with his thumbs.

He sighed heavily and let his forehead rest on yours, a regular gesture between the two of you that was far from platonic. “I’ve had a rough day. There was a robbery this morning and that made me late to my lab and then some asshole thought it was funny to use a dog whistle right outside. And I just- I was overstimulated and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, not when you were really trying.” 

You whimpered as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m sorry beautiful, I really am. Let me make it up to you.” His right hand came up and gently wiped it away, keeping his hand on your soft jaw as he urged you to look into his eyes.

“How?” His smile was almost unsure, seemingly a little wary of how honestly he should respond.

“Let me order some food and we can watch Percy Jackson.”

“And cuddle?”His smile grew as his eyes twinkled. He ducked forward and gently kissed the tip of your nose.

“Whatever you want, I’m at your mercy tonight.” You giggled.

“And tomorrow too, I’m still kind of hurt.” Peter just squeezed your hip.

“Anything for you.” Maybe the silence wasn’t so bad, as long as Peter was quiet with you.

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[brights-place]

Hi! First time requesting anything but sorry if it’s bad but, Can you do Queen barb x fem! Reader that loves heavy metal? You don’t have to do This if you don’t wanna :)

Barb X METAL! S/O

Pairings: Barb X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: As an Goth metal head I spent most of my time focusing on this request cause I am INVESTED in Metal genre dude I think I’m going deaf though! I'm adding headcannons of my metal head goth trolls ideas! (*´∀｀*)

- Barb was pulled in by your appearance you looked like an rock troll... but weren't exactly an rock troll - She was interested in your small bat wings that were placed on your back like how the classical trolls had wings - You were gorgeous in her eyes as she went towards you smirking - she asked you about yourself and noticing you weren't around here you told her you were an heavy metal troll which she grinned at - She knew about the heavy metal genre but she couldn't help but adore the sparkle in your eyes when she asked about your genre - You explained that heavy metal is traditionally characterized by loud distorted guitars, emphatic rhythms, dense bass-and-drum sound and vigorous vocals. - She smiled knowing that it had same attributions like Rock music as you continued on that heavy metal subgenres variously emphasize, alter or omit one or more of these attributes. - She soon walked around with you as she showed you around Volcano Rock city while she asked more questions about your genre and would do the rock n roll symbol with you whenever you put your hand up to do it when you talked about metal music saying that it Rocked - She loved how you complimented her style aswell as she did the same to you but she held an deep blush on her cheeks staring at you - She loved to touch your bat wings which you always laughed at but sometimes warn her not to touch the inner parts really close to your back since you said it was sensitive - She asks you various questions while you ask the same thing towards her as well - loves when you do her makeup while she does the same for you but you tell her it's more hardcore looking which makes her confused but she does her best - You two grew close after awhile you becoming an iconic duo and whenever you were visiting Barb and you would play your guitars together while riff played the drums loudly - You would have jam sessions - She would tell you to introduce her to some Metal music and her jaw dropped when seeing you head bang while listening to Twisted sister - You would always flirt whenever and she would always touch your wings and you would touch her ears that she was insecure about due to one of them having abit of it tared off - You both have your own album of music together as you smiled together singing loudly as she sang loudly strumming her guitar as you did the same

- Riff would point out barb was crushing on you once you left and she would try to deny it but she'd turn around and be like "Holy shit I like them!"

- She loves how you kissed her face and kissed her ear that was cut off telling her she was beautiful when she was crying - You would be with her or would visit which became normal with all rock trolls knowing who you were and wouldn't talk bad about you since one rock troll was heard talking bad about you as an joke and had barb close to using her chainsaw on him - She introduces Debbie to you and it's so CUTE! how you cry instantly and hug Debbie saying how adorable she is unlike the pop trolls who first saw Debbie

- She loves how her dad became best friends with you so fast and ends up with you painting her fathers nails black as you ranted to him about the dumbest things and she could feel her heart throb - You two would be doing your daily jam session with playing your guitars back to back as you sang your songs before you turn face to face both of you soon singing softly in your pod leaning forward heads touching before you end up kissing - Her hands on your waist as you put your guitar on the side and have an hand in her hair making out before pulling away the two of you pausing staring at eachother before laughing as you went back to kissing her with an big smile as she giggled abit

- You two became official after the kiss and went on dates together you two would now be seen with barb having an hand on your waist or holding your hand mostly on your waist while she glares down trolls who would try to speak up about it

- You two would be jamming out together once more at volcano rock city as she told her dad about you two now dating as he smiles nodding telling her she did amazing and would have an good partner which was you

- You would hug him crying "Thank you king Thrash" as he hugs you back "Call me dad..." as you turn to barb who looked away sniffling trying not to cry

- You and barb would be having an picnic in an empty flower field as you played your guitars together as she smirked turning towards you "(Name)" You would giggle "Barb"

- You put your guitar to the side as she did the same before tackling you to the picnic blanket pinning you against it and peppering your face to kisses as you blush before returning the small kisses as you cuddle and laugh together

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[siren07tucker]

El Tigre head cannons

I’ve been re-watching the show so I have information for when I write a fic

Manny when he gets older has a mild reaction to jug bands, because his father is allergic to them.  but when I mean, mild, I mean normal allergic reaction not whatever happens to his father.

His El Tigre tail isn’t actually sensitive because it would be impossible to do half the stuff he does with it if it was.

He enjoys doing art. (there will be a massive portrait of Danny somewhere in his home when they start dating) 

Speaking of Danny, he thinks Manny has died before because he stinks of death. (it’s from when he visited the land of the dead)

Manny becomes an antihero, he mainly uses villainy tactics in crime fighting. He’s still not allowed at hero con, at least not through the front door he still gets in because of the one year he saves everybody. 

Sometimes his eyes glow green outside of his superhero form.

And since he’s been using it for so long, the powers have kind of rubbed off on him. Manny can definitely use some of the super strength and agility outside of the suit even without the belt. it’s not much but it still freaks people out when he does it. 

Every magical artifact in the family is cursed with the flaw of its first wearer. The Ll Tigre belt is possibly the worst cursed but they genuinely don’t know the actual curse? They think it might be the fact whoever wears it can’t choose between good or evil.

Maybe the actual curses, the reputation it has and the pressure that puts on the person who wears it.

Raul is genuinely like Manny‘s older brother. Like he comes to family dinners after his police job. He’s there at Manny‘s wedding as one of the groomsmen.

Danny: you know what this isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened to me… and somehow my family still weirder?

Miracle city is ecto contaminated. Like their skeletons walking in the streets, mustaches that come to life and so many deaths have occurred here!! 

like yeah, the whole world canonically has super villains and superheroes, but miracle city has two superheroes and that’s it!

All of them got eaten by a massive guy! No other superhero touches that place unless it’s for superhero con.

When Manny is older, he definitely tries to get more superheroes to move in though, and there are a few that spring up, but it’s still mainly just him and his dad who really should retire.

Here’s a funny picture that I took of him when his belt didn’t fully spin… 

Manny is the type of person to say the same thing his dad said to him as a kid. 

Ellie: i’m so bored Manny, please can I have some money to go to the arcade!!!

Manny doing the dishes and not thinking about what he saying: Miha, you don’t need money to have fun when me and Frida were younger we would dig in the trashcan…(stops washing dishes) here’s 50 bucks. Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day.

He then goes and cries in the shower for three hours straight because he’s just like his dad. It’s not a bad thing, It’s just a pride thing.

Him and Frida definitely have a packed where if one of them turns out to have the bad parts of their parents, they will be put down by the Other.

Manny definitely takes antianxiety medication. Points at his mother, anxiety is actually hereditary.

Manny actually has a really nice singing voice. His mother used to teach him how to it was their bonding activity. He even shows up in a couple of her songs as background vocals.

I’m only on episode 12 so I’m definitely gonna make more of these. I might actually write a fic because this is usually how I warm up to do something like that. 

[elsbbg]

Watercolour eyes, Ellie Williams x reader

Synopsis: Doing Ellie’s makeup for the first time

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

Wc: 0.9k

A/n: heyy, so this is my first ever fic (so please go easy on me I’m sensitive :)), til now I’ve always made silly scenarios in my head, now I wanna write those fantasies down just for pure fun, soo hope you’ll enjoy <3 btw the title of the song has nothing to do with the story, I just liked it that’s all :) Also excuse any grammar errors English isn’t my first language

As the snow was collecting on the mountains and a storm was about to loom over Jackson, it was impossible for you and Ellie to go on your usual afternoon patrol shift since Maria thought it would be too dangerous to go into the woods in the middle of a storm. And so this is how you got here, in the comfort of Ellie’s garage.

The lights hanging on the wall behind her couch were emitting a soft warm light that hugged her whole living room. As you were lazily laying on her bed, back pressed to the headboard while reading a book, Ellie was laying between your legs, head resting on your belly as she was playing video games.

This was until you felt her shift from her original position and feel the warmth of her body slowly leave you. She had turned the television off, to then throw herself on the bed again next to your frame, face hiding in her pillow.

“Els, you okay?” You asked as you were closing your book to place it on her bedside table and give her your full attention. “Yea… just- really fucking bored”she sighed hiding her face into your chest. “Mhm… do you still have my little beauty case that I left here a couple of weeks ago?” You asked the freckled girl as you gently caressed her hair. “Yeah sure, why?” She asked laying on her side, hand supporting her head “there might be something interesting in it, you know to pass the time” at your response a smirk started spreading on her plushy lips: “oh yea? And what is it?” She asked, hand caressing your exposed hip. “Nothing like that dummy” you said, suddenly standing up from your place on the bed, heading to her bathroom to go pick the beauty case up “so I’m not getting laid?” She asked in a high tone, fake sadness draped in it. Just when you returned back to her, bright pink case full of cosmetics and coloured powders in your hands, that the realisation hit her “I’m not doing that” she stated in a flat tone, one you rarely heard. “Of course you’re not, I’m doing your makeup for you” you said brightly smiling, sitting on your knees in front of her “absolutely not. I don’t want sticky shit on my face”. “It’s not sticky and I’m gonna make you look so cool, like rockstar cool” you tried convincing her “I swear if you put pink glittery stuff on my face I’ll throw you out of the house, and your house is across the city” she jokingly threatened you, to which you responded “yea and Joel lives across the street” “shut up he doesn’t”.

Since doing her makeup sitting across each other would be too hard, you asked her if she could lay back for you and let you sit on her lap so to be closer to her face and more concentrated. Her hands were on your hips keeping you still, fingers slightly fidgeting with the hem of her sweater you were wearing.

You decided to do a makeup that would totally fit her, both with the way she dressed, with her usual dark baggy clothes, and with her loser and nerdy personality. So you opted for a black liner that would color her waterline, slightly smudged on her eye bags and blending a bit toward the outside of her emerald eyes. Just when you thought the girl couldn’t get prettier your expectations were fully blown. The way the black liner made her emerald eyes pop out was actually mesmerising, she looked so graceful yet so inelegant in all her beauty. Even tho her eyes were closed she could feel you staring “everything okay there babe?” She asked opening her eyes, squinting through the dim light of the room. “Yea, you just look- very pretty” you said gently caressing her cheek “yeah yeah, just finish your work of art” you smiled at how she defined her own skin as your work of art, a canvas to paint on. “Open your eyes els, I gotta put mascara on” you said gently tapping her cheek “I swear if you stab my eyes with that thing-“ “I’m not gonna stab your eyes out els, just trust me” you reassure her as you leave a kiss on her forehead. After having applied mascara and succeeding in not stabbing her eyes, it was time for her lips, as soon as she saw you pick a lipstick up she immediately stated “you’re not putting that on my lips” “yes I am” “no” “please… do it for your girl” you fake pouted, the look in her pleading eyes screamed kicked dog but you didn’t care. “Please… so I can smudge it up later while making out” you said accentuating a smile “what colours do you have?” That’s all it took her for her to say yes, and fall into your trap: a pout and a make out session.

After a good five minutes of choosing the right shade that complemented her pale skin, you opted for a nude dark rose lipstick color, and a light coat of clear lipgloss.

“You look beautiful els, like actually pretty- I mean you always look pretty but this is a different kind of pretty… I guess” you stutter a little “mhm, thank you baby, but now I wanna see how it turned out too”. You pass her the portable mirror you got and she actually looked pretty shocked too. “This is so cool and totally badass… I kinda do look pretty” she looked at you through the mirror with a giddy kind of expression on her face “maybe you should do my makeup more often…” she shyly said “I think so too els”.

“Now come here, I need you to smudge my lipstick” she said as she pulled you in for a sweet and passionate kiss. “Wait wait wait…” you brutally braked the kiss. “What is it?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice “I wanna take a pic” you said smiling. She gave you a little peck before answering “we’ll take it when it’s all smudged and on your pretty face too” she said pulling you back in for the kiss, wide smiles plastered on both your features.

[stupidspidey]

DRAKE VS KENDRICK LAMAR

(Hey! here’s all of the songs i referenced that i cns actually add here! Plewse note i literally forgot to cover *meet the grahams*, but, fuck it, whatever.)

With the recent ongoing war between Kendrick Lamar and Drake, i feel like as someone with way too much time on their hands and nothing else going on for the day, what better than to write a cohesive timeline of literally *everything* that’s happened? And i don’t mean from **First Person Shooter**, i mean from **good kid, m.A.A.d city** type everything. Yeah, the Drake stuff isn’t exactly as recent as it may appear. Saying as theres no more ‘intro’ for me to give, here i go.

***Buried Alive Interlude (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - Take Care (2011)***

This was the beginning of the relationship between Drake and Kendrick, both of them considering eachother peers in the industry, despite being in such different lanes. (Lamar conceptual, and Drake more mainstream.), In an interview Lamar describes Drake as “A good guy.” (paraphased), regardless, things seemed alright for the two, the only real “beef” being their opposing views on how they views on their wealth and fame, Lamar keeping personal details quiet, while Drake frequently posts his lavish life to his thousands of followers.

***Poetic Justice (ft. Drake) - good kid, m.A.A.d city (2012)***

To say the two artists were always in some sort of feud would be wrong. On Kendrick’s debut album later rap classic, ***’good kid, m.A.A.d city’***, we see a feature from Drake on the track Poetic Justice. A few things of note though, is that this time period shows us a good natured relationship between Drake and Kendrick, even Drake going as far to say that *“GKMC was the last great concept album.”,* though there was definitely tensions between the two, as Drake’s refusal to work with Kendrick again began after the lyric **”I’m usually homeboys with the same n——s i’m rhymin’ with, but this is hip-hop and them n——s should know what time it is. And that goes for J.Cole, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, Meek Mills A$AP Rocky, Drake, Big Sean, Jay Electron, Tyler and Mac Miller, I got love for you all, but i’m tryna slaughter you n——s.”**

Drake took an offence to this, and spited a refusal to work with Kendrick over it, seeing it as a diss, though nowadays most view this as friendly competition from Lamar. After the fact of Drake’s refusal though, Lamar did go back on another song to say **”Yeah, and nothings been the same since they dropped Control. Tucked a sensitive rapper back into his pyjama clothes.”**, this line being aimed at Drake, and actually being considered the starting point between the two’s feud, having Drake in interviews act nonchalantly and saying he isn’t “taking the bait”, he was the only rapper to have taken offence to Lamar’s initial lyric. Some also found Drake’s initial compliments to *GKMC* offensive, as the term “concept album” usually gives the idea that everything on the album is a story, or ‘made up’, implying that Drake believes Kendrick’s story in Compton was fiction, though i find that to be a bit of a stretch personally. Some people also found it as a fairly backhanded compliment because of this.

***Control (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - Big Sean***

I mentioned earlier about how this song sparked the real aggression between the two artists, and that statement still stands. Coming off of tour alongside Drake and A$AP Rocky, we saw Lamar feature on this song alongside Big Sean, in which he aims not just for Drake, but the rap industry as a whole. To repeat the lyric from earlier, **”**I’m usually homeboys with the same n——s i’m rhymin’ with, but this is hip-hop and them n——s should know what time it is. And that goes for J.Cole, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, Meek Mills A$AP Rocky, Drake, Big Sean, Jay Electron, Tyler and Mac Miller, I got love for you all, but i’m tryna slaughter you n——s.”** This lead the press to obviously inquire Drake on his thoughts on this, to which he responded: *”I didn’t really have anything to say about it. It just sounded like an ambitious thought to me. That’s all it was. I know good and well that [Lamar] ‘s not murdering me, at all, in any platform. So when that day presents itself, I guess we can revisit the topic.”* This quote came with the claims that Lamar’s ‘dream’ of murdering him (metaphorically) was simply a fantasy, and that he simply couldn’t live up to what Drake had established. In other words, Drake believes his star power keeps him away from the threats Lamar proceeds.

***King Kunta - To Pimp a Butterfly/100 - The Game***

In these tracks, Drake begins to show a response to Lamar’s claims. In *King Kunta*, from Kendrick’s sequel album **To Pimp a Butterfly**, now widely considered one of the most influential albums in rap, Lamar pens **“I can dig rapping! But a rapper with a ghostwriter? What the fuck happened?”** this lyric is aimed at allegations that some of Drake’s music is written by a team, rather than himself—— more commonly referred to as ‘ghostwriting’, I haven’t heard much about this, but i do believe the lyric **”I got a bone to pick! I don’t want these monkey-mouthed motherfuckers sitting in my throne again!”** could be a potential dig at not just Drake, but the industry as a whole— something Lamar has done a few times as we’ve covered. Either in coincidence or response, Drake released a jab at Lamar around the same time, penning **”I would have all your fans if i didn’t go pop and stayed down on some conscious shit.”** these two lyrics are really the last time in the 2010’s we hear of the beef between Drake and Kendrick up until the recent events, with both of them seemingly simmering, nothing is really said as far as i’m aware between this point and the next.

***First Person Shooter (ft. J.Cole) - FOR ALL THE DOGS (2023)***

Oh J.Cole. you poor, poor man.

*First Person Shooter*, one of the lead singles for Drake’s album ***FOR ALL THE DOGS***, is with no doubt a victory lap for Drake and his colleague Jermaine Cole (more frequently, J.Cole). On the track, Cole pens **”People argue who’s the hardest MC, is it K.Dot, is it Aubrey or me? We the big three like we started a league, but right now i feel like Mohammed Ali.”** Now to most, this would come off as a compliment, with Cole stating that the big three of rap is him, Kendrick Lamar and Drake, though a few people saw this as fairly backhanded, seeing the following Mohammed Ali comment along with the fact that Drake was also on the song to be placing Lamar in third, implying that Cole believes those two usurp Kendrick, putting him in the top 3 out of pity in a sense. This is what set the current ball in motion, and more importantly, set off Metro Boomin and Future. (Well, not really, but the next instalment happens to come from their album ***We Don’t Trust You*,** so…)

***Like That (ft. Kendrick Lamar) - We Don’t Trust You (Metro Boomin and Future) (2024)***

This is where the games begin. Lamar is featured as a surprise feature on Future and Metro Boomin’s collaboration album, **We Don’t Trust You**. In this surprise however, Lamar comes in full force. Penning **”They think i won’t drop the location, i still got PTSD, motherfuck the big three, n——a it’s just big ME! (n——a bum!)”**, being the most iconic of the shots thrown from Lamar, as for after Kendrick continues to call Drake and Cole ‘bums’. It’s obvious that this is aimed at the two, as Kendrick starts his verse with **”Fuck sneak dissing, First Person Shooter? i hope they came with three switches, i crash out like ‘FUCK RAP!’ diss Melly Mells if i have to, got 2 tees with me, i’m snatching chains and burning tattoos.”** This is, of course, the beginning of what i like to call “the war” between Drake and Kendrick (and J.Cole, who immediately backs out, respect to him though, shit gets crazy.), for the first few weeks, neither artists really respond to these lyrics, up until J.Cole.

***7 Minute Drill - MIGHT DELETE LATER (J.Cole) 2024***

This is where the responses come in. J.Cole fires back at Lamar after a few weeks of seemingly nothing from the two aimed at in FPS, on this track, Cole aims singularly for Lamar, using a multitude of lyrics and phrases to insult him. This isn’t actually the first time Lamar and Cole have been in a sort of “battle”, though with the brotherly bond between the two, it’s been seemingly in good hearted nature. On the track, Cole raps **”He’s averaging one hard verse like, every 30 months or somethin’.”** in reference to the large release windows between Kendrick’s albums, GKMC, TPAB, DAMN. and Mr Morale. Following this, he states that **”If he wasn’t dissing, then we wouldn’t be discussing him.”** Implying that if he hadn’t been aiming for the two, nobody would be discussing Kendrick Lamar at all. This most likely comes from the radio silence from Kendrick since Mr. Morale outside of surprise features like **America has a Problem.** Cole also claims that he’s **”Front of the line, with a comfortable lead, how ironic, soon as i got it, now he wants something with me.**” Telling us that Cole’s belief is Lamar’s aiming is out of jealousy or envy, rather than the usual friendly competition between the two. In a more extended line proceeding this, he pens **”Your first shit? A classic. Your last shit was tragic. Your second shit put n——s to sleep but the gassed it. Your third shit was massive, and THAT was your prime, i was trailing right behind, and i just now hit mine.”** Each line in this lyric is directed to a different Kendrick Lamar album. His first shit (***good kid, m.A.A.d city***) is considered a classic in the rap genre, and is considered by some to be Lamar’s best album. His last shit (**Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers**) is taken in a completely different direction than most of Lamar’s previous work, this leads it to be more negatively reviewed among the rest of his works. His second shit (**To Pimp a Butterfly***)* Is the follow-up album to GKMC, showing us the first instance of Lamar’s social commentary (though, present in GKMC), this making Cole claim it as putting people to sleep, as it was too introspective and political (This line is heavily disagreed with, as most people perceive TPAB as the best rap album of all time.) His third shit (***DAMN.***) is considered by most to be Kendrick’s prime, and also the peak of his fame. Featuring artists like Rhianna and with hit classics like DNA. and HUMBLE., the album is considered some of Lamar’s most iconic work to date. After the release of ***7 Minute Drill***, J.Cole immediately backed out and apologised, stating “Do y’all love Kendrick Lamar? Cause so do i.” And basically apologising to him. To this day it’s unknown wether or not this was out of either respect or fear for Lamar, though we do know that ScHoolboy Q, a colleague of Cole’s, told him to simply not get involved, as he knew it was more of a thing between Kendrick and Drake.

***Push Ups (Drop and Give Me 50) - Drake (2024)***

This transitions is smoothly into where we really are today, the consistent stream of tracks between Drake and Kendrick that seemingly antagonise eachother to no end. We begin with **Push Ups**, a track where Drake goes not just for Kendrick, but for everyone involved with ***We Don’t Trust You***. Drake starts the track with **”Drop, drop, drop, drop…”**, a seeming triple entendre to a multitude of things relating to Kendrick. First off, some interpret this as Drake telling Lamar to “drop” something, either being a response to him, or just solo music in general. Another interpretation follows the idea that he is telling Kendrick to “drop and give him 50%”, as it’s suspected that Lamar’s label takes a 50% cut of whatever he releases. A third (and less interesting) interpretation is that it’s in reference to Lamar’s frequenting of the parks to do his exercise routines, namely doing 50 pushups. following this we hear **”I could never be nobodies number one fan, your first number one, i had to put that in your hands.”**, Implying Drake believes Kendrick’s fame comes from his features on Drake’s album ***Take Care***, and Drake’s features on ***Poetic Justice*** (both covered earlier.), following this, we get **”How the fuck you big-stepping with a size seven men’s on?”**, this is both a reference to Lamar’s album ***Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers***, and also Lamar’s height, being 5’5. Later on, we get **”Maroon 5 need a verse, you better make it witty. Then we need a verse for the Swifties, Top says drop, you better drop and give em 50!”**, this is in reference to how Kendrick has previously featured on songs for both Maroon 5 (***Don’t Wanna Know**)* and Taylor Swift (***Bad Blood***), Drake uses this almost in mocking. The “drop and give me 50” line is repeated through the song. Following this is **”Its like your label, boy, you’re in the scope right now. And you’re gonna feel the aftermath of what i write down.”**, this references both of the labels Lamar has been signed to, Interscope Records and Aftermath Records. To cap off what i’m gonna cover for this song (lest i be here for hours), Drake pens **”Pipsqueak, pipe down. You ain’t in no big three, SZA got you wiped down, Savage got you wiped down, Travis got you wiped down—“**, this line tells us seemingly whay Drake *a*ctually believes to be the big three, unlike what Cole claimed on First Person Shooter, this also seemingly a jab at Cole aswell, as Drake seems to ‘remove’ him from the big three. He later also says **”I don’t care what Cole think, that Dot shit was weak as fuck.”** seemingly solidifying this line of thought. Drake is now out for both Kendrick and Cole.

***Taylor Made Freestyle - Drake (2023)***

This song seemingly stems from Drake’s impatience for Lamar to respond. (something he’d largely backtrack on later), To give some context to the title, the real beef between the two began during the release of Taylor Swift’s album ***The Tortured Poets Department***, because of this, Drake accuses Lamar of being “scared” to drop within this timeframe, in fear of being overshadowed. Unfortunately, in this song Drake begins by targeting one of Kendrick’s idols, Tupac, through the use of his AI Generated voice, a move that would wildly lose Drake the public vote. I’m not going to cover the stuff that’s used from the AI Snoop Dogg or Tupac primarily because (and trying to remain as completely unbiased as possible), Drake is a massive bitch for using them. Anyway, onto the first line of note: **”But now we gotta wait a fuckin’ week cause Taylor Swift is your new Top, And if you boutta drop then she has to approve.”**, this comes again from Drake’s belief that Kendrick is scared of dropping out of fear of being overshadowed, stating it as if Taylor ‘owns’ Kendrick. If i’m being completely honest, that’s literally all i can say about this track, pretty much every line aimed at Kendrick can be summed up to that exact definition, so i’ll move on the the next track.

***euphoria - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***

This is where Kendrick begins his involvement, by not just dropping his response, but by dropping two in one day, **euphoria** and **6:16 in LA** (the latter of which i’ll cover next). The track begins with a reversed sample from a remake of ***The Wizard of Oz***, in which a character proclaims **”Everything they say about me is true!”**, this could be interpreted to Kendrick owning up to the title of *”The Boogeyman”* some have given him in previous beefs. Following up this, Lamar begins the track with a slow, melodic beat, as he softly rhymes over the top of it. He pens **”You’re moving just like a degenerate, every antic is feeling distasteful.”** in reference to Drake’s use of AI voices on ***Taylor Made Freestyle***. After this, we receive a beat switch in which Lamar begins to ‘battle-rap’. We begin with **”Have you ever paid five hundered thou’ like, to an open case?”** This line is allegedly written in reference to Drake’s sexual assault allegations from Instagram model *Laquana Morris*, in which he paid $350k in settlement. Though this could also be in reference to Lamar’s 2017 lawsuit in which LOYALTY. was accused of plagiarism by *Terrance Hayes*, a case that was later dismissed and dropped with little to no explanation. Later, Lamar pens **”Id rather do that than let a Canadian n——a make Pac roll in his grave.”**, Another reference to Drake’s previous usage of Tupac’s AI voice, and more notably, Kendrick’s desire to defend Tupac’s legacy from that sort of usage. **”What is it, the braids? Oh you dont wanna work with me no more? Okay.”** Is in reference to how Drake’s haircut (twisted braids) has him thinking wrong to go against him. The following comment about not working with him is in reference to Kendrick’s comments on **Control**, aimed at Drake, and his reaction to no longer wanting to work with Lamar. **”Its three GOATs left, and i see two of em hugging and kissing on stage.”** Is in reference to ***It’s All A Blur Tour***, in which J. Cole and Drake headlined together, a photo commonly shared of the two of them hugging on stage. **”Yeah, fuck all that pushing P, let me see you Pusha T!”** Is in reference to Drake’s previous beef with Pusha T, in which he revealed that Drake had a son, Adonis. This later removed all responses from Drake, making people consider Pusha T the winner. There’s a LOT more lyrics in this song, but i’m gonna cut it primarily for actually making space for the rest of this stuff.

***6:16 in LA - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***

In a surprising move from Kendrick, he released two songs in a row, this one more personally aimed at not just Drake and everyone he’s associated with, but Drake himself. With this track there aren’t many lyrics i actually want to select and really explain like i have in previous sections so i’d be better off more or less explaining how tensions were in the release of this track. People were no short of surprised to see Lamar drop such a substantial amount of tracks in one day, making most people seemingly ‘switch sides’ from Drake, while most others applied the argument that “most had decided their winner before their battle even started.”, however this song is the prelude before we really get Kendrick to delve into Drake’s allegations, and more impressively, straight up call him a p*dophile.

***Family Matters - Drake (2024)***

After a day or two of waiting with bated breath, Drake finally responded to Lamar’s tracks with a return to burn Kendrick. The song begins with a reused sample of **Push-Ups**, almost making the song seem to be a sequel to that, Drake begins by proclaiming that **”Cole losing sleep over this, that ain’t me.”**, in reference to Cole’s exiting from the battle. However a lyric following this further landed Drake into a negative public opinion, as he raps **”Always rappin’ like you’re tryna get the slaves freed.”**, seemingly dissmissing to the work Kendrick’s done for knowledge on Black History, as well as mocking Lamar’s general influence and introspective style of rap. Later, Drake finally fires back with allegations that Kendrick is abusive toward his wife, with the line **”Ay, let that shawty breathe.”**, allowing the listener to interpret that Lamar may be involved in abusing his wife, Whitney. (Though, this was later seemingly disproved by a tweet from Whitney’s brother showing support toward Kendrick.) Drake then raps **”Shake that ass for Drake, and shake that ass for free.”**, implying both that Whitney is disloyal to Kendrick, and that Drake supposedly wants this to be a song people dance to in clubs via twerking or something, this later backfired as Lamar’s next track, ***Not Like Us***, actually ended up being played in a multitude of clubs and raves upon release. Drake later raps **”good kid, m.A.A.d city van, we’ll pop the latch and let the door slide.”**, seemingly in reference to a drive-by in Kendrick’s Compton days, as in the album the Van is used as a symbol of protection from the violence in the world outside. Drake is proclaiming he will destroy Kendrick’s only sense of protection. In Part III of the song, Drake begins by rapping **”Kendrick just opened his mouth, someone go hand him a Grammy right now.”**, seemingly believing that all of Lamar’s Grammys are given based off of popularity over talent, though Drake follows this with **”Where is your uncle at? Cause i wanna talk to the man of the house.”,** this is in reference to the **Mr Morale and the Big Steppers** track **Auntie Diaries**, in which Kendrick tells the story of his Auntie transitioning into his Uncle. The bar basically mocks Kendrick for being less masculine than a trans person, sort of transphobic to me but, yknow. From here it’s just more lyrics about the allegations of Kendrick’s abuse of his wife, bringing us onto **Not Like Us**.

***Not Like Us - Kendrick Lamar (2024)***

This track is the pinpoint for when we go from ***To Pimp a Butterfly*** to ***To Catch a Predator***. In this track, Kendrick fully goes in on Drake’s sexual abuse and pedophilia allegations, exposing a major amount of Drake’s argument. The first influential lyric on this track is **”Say, Drake, I hear you like em’ young.”**, again in reference to these allegations, now, to get this out of the way now, i’m gonna say the same for **”Certified Lover Boy? Certified Pedophile!”** and **”Tryna stroke a chord, and it’s probably A-Minor!”**, the first of which being a reference to Drake’s album **Certified Lover Boy**, and the second referencing the guitar chord A-Minor, entendres with “a minor” (Holy shit, man.) **”Certified Boogeyman, i’m the one who upped the score with em’.”** Is in reference to the **Halloween** character *Micheal Myers*, and more importantly his intimidating presence, that of which Kendrick implies he also brings in his opponents, the usage of ‘certified’ could also be another reference to **Certified Lover Boy**., and with all that covered, that’s pretty much all that comes from this track and, honestly, the beef in general.

***THE HEART PART 6 - Drake (2024)***

To remain as unbiased as possible, this is where things get downright embarrassing, and honestly, what solidifies Kendrick Lamar’s win. For starters, the track title itself is in reference to Lamar’s **The Heart** series, which is typically used to debut a new album, like **DAMN.** and **Mr Morale and the Big Steppers.** This is actually a joke that was frequently used on Twitter beforehand, as well see with the rest of this track, most of Drake’s research comes less from his peers and more from Twitter, the track itself actually is an attempt to mock Kendrick Lamar’s sexual assault, something of which we learn, actually never happened. Drake raps **”Mother i— Mother i— That’s the one record where you say you got molested.”**, despite him saying this, **Mother I** is Kendrick talking about how his cousin didn’t molest him, but none of his family believed him, in other words, Drake completely misses the point. Before this Drake raps **”This Epstein angle is the shit i expected.”** When, in prior songs, nobody has mentioned Jeffrey Epstien. He also raps **”I only fuck with Whitneys, not no Millie Bobbie Browns.”** in reference to his allegations in messaging *Stranger Things* star Millie Bobbie Brown, despite being 17 years older than her. Yet again, Kendrick had never mentioned this beforehand.

***MR. MORALE VS THE 6IX GOD.***

In the end, it comes down to personal opinion on who you really think ‘won’ this sort of thing, it’s a very arguable and personal thing, wether you believe that Kendrick beats his wife, or that Drake is a pedophile, just know either way, when i release this Kendrick Lamar would have released 4 more tracks.

Wish me luck.

[strawberrystepmom]

a trick, a treat, a few tweaks later and i am proud to present...angel choso kamo for @antique-remains! happy halloween and thank you for participating!

contains: NSFW, MDNI. angel!choso x afab!reader. cw dubcon, cw sacrilege. dacryphilia (reader is turned on by crying), public sex, handjob, cum eating, choso has a big dick and his wings are sensitive enough to get sexual gratification.

Nighttime in the city is hardly your favorite time to be out and about, traversing the streets alone despite how bright or dimly lit they may be, yet here you are. Your heavy boots smack against the sidewalk with each step you take, puddles leftover from the torrential autumn downpour that made it impossible to find a taxi splashing and making you mutter in further frustration now that the hems of your pants are wet.

Sirens and the bells indicating that doors are opening and closing mingle into a song that drives your irritation even higher as you trudge toward the bus stop, the rain finally letting up enough that you can slow down and make your way toward the covered bench slowly but a groan catches your attention.

Looking around, you immediately grow suspicious it’s another man following you and making noises in hopes of getting your attention but you see no one. Another pained moan infiltrates your mind, quiet enough that it’s barely audible but loud enough you wonder how far away the source of it is. You search around the bus stop, your eyes darting to a tiny alley between two high rise buildings. It’s hardly wide enough for one person but you wonder, walking toward the alley.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear another groan and what sounds like sniffling, your brow raising. It would be the best idea to ignore the sad sounds you keep hearing and mind your own business, city life making everyone a little rough around the edges but whoever this is just sounds so sad that you can’t ignore it.

Stepping quietly into the alley, the sniffling grows louder as you step deeper into the darkness and you fish your phone out of your jacket pocket to turn on the flashlight, squinting to make out what appears to be a shaking mass of a…fully grown man. 

Dumped amongst black trash bags and loose litter, you wonder how he ended up on the cold hard street but it could not have been good. You wonder if you shouldn’t just walk away, there’s obviously trouble afoot, but he catches the gleam of your flashlight and whimpers, looking up at you with the biggest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Can you help me? I’m lost.”

His brows bunch together and tears spill from those pretty eyes. Your flashlight illuminates his face as each one leaves a track down his cheeks and the slope of his nose. Simultaneously, empathy blooms between your ribs and heat rises in your cheeks because you are caught off guard by the sheer beauty of this man with a black scar across his nose. Maybe it’s a tattoo, actually? You don’t know but you sigh, deep and exhausted, and hold your hand out to help him up. 

Gazing at your hand as if he’s fearful of it, still crying, you decide to come down to his level and squat in front of him. The flashlight on your phone shines in his direction and you spot what appears to be feathers on the ground around him, your jaw dropping as you angle your light a little further to the left and you realize the feathers are from wings attached to him. Reaching out, you pinch one of the fallen feathers between your fingers. It’s dingy thanks to the puddles below the two of you, wet and matted together, but it’s as white as a cloud otherwise. 

“Who are you?” 

He sniffles again, shaking his head. The crying has subsided but his eyes still shine with additional unshed tears and you hate that he looks so pretty just like this, eyes red and puffy. Again, you groan. It’s a frustrated sound although he doesn’t seem all that affected by it.

“Okay, let’s try a different question and see if you can answer this one. How did you end up here?”

“I don’t know!”

He shouts, arms thrown above his head in exasperation. The light shines over his body and you can vaguely make out the robes he wears, your eyes traveling from his wings to his chest to his face and his hair and the way it sticks up in twin tails on top of his head. You have no idea who this man is and apparently he doesn’t know either and immediately you rush to start planning your next move because you clearly cannot leave him unattended.

It’s close enough to Halloween that it’s unlikely anyone would question a man with wings taking the bus so you stand up and hold out your hand.

“Grab it, I’m trying to help you up.”

The man, if you can even call him that, sniffles and reaches up for your hand. You heave, groaning in surprise at how strong he is despite his current state of being strewn amongst litter and wet city sidewalks. He rises to his feet and you bounce back from him, appraising his full height.

He’s larger than you expected, tall with broad shoulders. Another sniffle pierces the noisy night air and you frown, hoping he’d be done with the hysterics by this point. Shining your flashlight toward his face, you catch the puffy red rimming his eyes and your own face heats.

Why is now the time your mind has decided to find the shimmer of his tears alluring? You grunt in frustration again, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Do you have a name?”

He nods.

“Choso.”

You hum sarcastically but you’re sure it’s lost on him.

“At least we know that much now.” Another sigh and you lift your hand to your face, scrubbing it over your nose and mouth. “I can’t just leave you here so follow me, we’re going back to my place.”

Choso takes a few steps forward and you reach out for his hand like a bad child and drag him out of the alleyway with you. The two of you stomp toward the bus stop, taking shelter from the rain on the dry bench beneath the metal awning.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Despite the October chill and the soggy hems of your pants, you warm at the trace of humility in his voice. Nothing that has happened up until this point is his fault and perhaps you’ve been a bit harsh to someone who is clearly scared and in an unfamiliar place.

“It’s okay, let’s just get you somewhere dry so we can figure out what to do next.”

As if you summoned it, the next bus to your part of the city arrives mere moments later. It’s off schedule but you don’t think much of it, assuming the rain is causing drivers to shift their schedules. You look to Choso before rising to make sure he’s alright and he appears to be, eyes still rimmed with red but no more sniffling.

Stepping onto the bus, you’re shocked to find it empty. Two sets of boots squeak down the aisle as the two of you settle into a seat at the back, wide enough to accommodate his wings and you by his side. The bright overhead light hurts your eyes but it allows you a gracious and better look at the man and you’re stricken by how handsome he is.

The dim light of your phone did nothing to highlight him and you’re honestly a little grateful for it, knowing you probably would’ve just ignored this very handsome man otherwise. You press your thighs together and settle into your seat, still looking at him as if you’re trying to make sense of the entire situation.

“Do you really not know how you ended up here?”

The man next to you shakes his head and his white wings that are covered in the grime he was laying in flutter slightly with the motion. You giggle, watching his body react and his cheeks redden and you shift until your thigh presses against his robes.

The attraction you felt in the alleyway listening to him sniffle has become undeniable, your wetness seeping through your underwear, your pussy as wet as the rest of you. Perhaps you should be ashamed of your own desires, embarrassed that seeing a pretty boy cry is enough to turn you into someone so shameless, but you just can’t find the will to care as the city passes by in a blur outside of the windows.

Placing your hand on his thigh, he gasps and his dark eyes flick down toward where it lies. His muscles tense beneath your palm and you eye him curiously, letting your fingers rest in the soft robes covering him. 

Your mind wanders to what could possibly be beneath the white fabric pooling between his slightly spread thighs and you bite your lip, drawing your hand back and making ready to put it in your lap. Choso stops you though, grabbing your wrist and placing your palm back on his thigh.

“Your touch is comforting.” 

His voice quivers a bit and you nod, trying to bite back the satisfied smirk crawling across your face. Maybe he feels the tension between the two of you, less naive then he’s putting on, and your hand travels from the flat of his thigh inward. Your fingers brush along his inner thigh and you gasp feeling a lump beneath the robes covering him, certain it’s his slowly hardening cock.

“I can make you feel even better.”

He lucks his lip between his teeth and looks at you with uncertainty but spreads his legs wider, the bulge you just felt thickening substantially as your fingers drag across it. You make a show of looking around the empty bus to ensure you’re truly alone and when you’re satisfied with your inspection, you lift your hand from his thigh long enough to make him gasp.

Choso watches you raptly, eyes still rimmed with red, and gasps when you lift your palm to your mouth and spit into it. He has never witnessed something so lewd but he enjoys it, his cock jumping and dragging through the fabric covering it enough that it makes him hiss. You reach back down toward his thigh, lifting the fabric away from his hips and gasp when you are met with his leaking cock.

He’s thicker than any you’ve ever seen and you feel greedy, licking your lips and keeping your eyes fixed on his drooling head. Your spit lubricated palm reaches for the engorged tip and his precum feels like silk in your hands, mixing with your spit and giving you all the lubrication you need to close your fist around his length. Your fingers and thumb do not touch and you press your thighs together again.

With one fluid flick of your wrist, his eyes fill with tears again. Biting your lip, you make another pass, your thumb brushing over his leaking slit and he moans in his throat. You glance around the bus again but continue flicking your wrist, the steady slick noise of your motions filling the space where the two of you sit.

“That feels…” he trails off, sniffling and another tear trails down his cheek. He doesn’t have to finish because you can tell by every noise that echoes in his throat that he’s enjoying himself, his wings fluttering and flicking with each pass of your hand over his length. 

At first you believed his wings were for show, perhaps an elaborate costume, but the way they flutter at your back and around your legs tells you otherwise. You wonder if you haven’t stumbled upon an angel - lost and away from home, one you’re happily corrupting in the back of a dirty city bus.

May God have mercy on my soul, you reason while increasing the speed of your wrist and making his entire body tense in response. Choso shudders, his wings flexing again, and you bite your lip while watching every sticky pass of your hand, the persistent schlick, and his falling tears making you almost believe you could cum yourself.

“How does it feel?”

He meets your eyes and you see them glisten with unshed tears, the vision making you increase your pace wordlessly. His thighs tense again and you know immediately that he’s about to cum, his hand coming to your wrist to still you while he spills his hot release all over your fingers. You groan alongside him, bottom lip jutting out while he sniffles and rushes to cover himself. 

Letting go of your grip on his cock, you bring your fingers to your mouth and stick them between your lips. Your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of him and your neglected cunt clenches, the bus slowing down at the stop nearest your apartment. 

“Come on,” you stand up and offer your still sticky hand to the man who takes it gingerly. He waits by your side while the bus comes to a stop and you drag him behind you, nodding politely to the bus driver that didn’t seem to notice what was going on right behind his back. 

“I can make you feel even better than that if you want to come upstairs.”

Choso follows your footsteps wordlessly all the way to your front door.

[chamomiles-thoughts]

Hi all, this is a bit rambly and long but I’d love to see if anyone has similar experiences. I have been questioning whether I am neurodivergent for a long while now, but not in a position to see a psychologist. I know you guys can’t diagnose me, but I would love to hear other’s experiences. I can maintain a job and such, but I do question whether I have ADHD.

I get distracted easily. Some current and past feedback at work is that I get distracted by “the new shiny thing.” I get distracted hearing phone calls and meetings at work. My mind wanders.

I feel like my forgetfulness has become more of a problem because I don’t remember feeling like things are constantly out of sight, out of mind. Mainly things like food. I have to take notes when people at work tell me to do stuff or I’m in meetings, because I feel like things fall out of my brain. At the same time, I’ve got a good memory for my mobility routes and things like personal details others tell me. I don’t struggle remembering dates/appointments, mostly, but I also have to put them in my calendar just in case.

I need clear, preferably written instructions. I tend to feel overwhelmed in long meetings. I feel like information, tasks etc just fall out my head when they’re being told to me.

My brain feels like constant chaos. I’m always thinking, there’s always some songs stuck in there. It is literally that million tabs open meme. I struggle falling and staying asleep because of this.

I need constant stimulation. I love shopping malls, cities, being productive at work. I get depressed if I’m not busy.

I have always had some sensory issues – I hate loud, crowded areas because I can’t filter out all the noise and get told “Oh, I have hearing issues too.” I love concerts but hate live music at pubs. I like touching things, I love weighted blankets but light touches make me cringe (not painful, just uncomfortable), I hate tight shirts and fabrics like wool, I like perfumes and bath bombs but very sensitive to smells - I can't even kiss my partner after he's eaten chips, for example. I don't know if this is a blindness thing or not.

I have low frustration and stress tolerance, I cry when I'm frustrated (which pisses my mum off). I've always had a bad temper, especially when younger, which led to me getting in trouble all the time at school.

I “scatter-gun” my interests. My supervisor pulled me up on this. I’m in HR, which I love, but also interested in journalism and cybersecurity. I switched uni degrees 3 times. I’m always like “I want to try this new thing.” One example is talking about trying jiu jitsu but shortly after wanting to try swimming. I feel like I’m not consistent in my interests, with the exception of writing.

I've always felt different, the odd one out. But I also never believed in comformity and fitting in, my parents never pushed it on me etc. In the past:

Never concentrated on schoolwork unless it was English, my favourite subject. It wasn’t until Year 9 or 10 I began paying attention, but still struggled with maths. However, I did really well in uni, particularly from 2021-2024 when I changed to part-time studies.

I struggled with things like due dates. I’m good at memorizing dates now but I have to put them in my calendar. For example, there have been 2 times I’ve nearly missed exams when I was younger.

Always preferred assessments to exams, I feel like I forget everything when it comes to exams and I’d much rather write a research essay.

Always struggled understanding instructions in school.

Speaking of school, I was “the naughty kid.” The school wanted to diagnose me with ADHD but my parents refused because I was good at home and it was for the money.

Always told “you’re so smart but need to apply yourself” and “you’re so smart but lack common sense."

Why I don't think I struggle with ADHD:

Fairly good at remembering details like dates, but I have to put them in my calendar just in case.

I don't think I struggle with executive dysfunction? I don't know, honestly.

Caffeine doesn't relax me. It helps me focus and stay alert, but doesn't it do that for everyone? I get too brain foggy without it.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey! It’s me again! I have another platonic but Fem! Teen/young adult reader request (17-19)

So I don’t really have a preference of who it’s focused on, mostly like avenger tower family vibes so choose whatever marvel ppl you want! I’m giving full liberty with just the basic plot line.

So the reader is in their first ever relationship, but as it goes on the true colors of her bf start to show and it’s super toxic and emotionally abusive. She needs the help and support of her avenger family to get through this and make the move she knows she has too, break up with him.

and that’s it! Angsty with a fluff ending, fill it with whatever you always do such an amazing job! Cant wait to read it (if you do it) 🫶

FAMILY

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS & ANTHONY "TONY" E. STARK & NATASHA A. ROMANOFF

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark & fem!reader & Steve G. Rogers & Natasha Romanoff (all platonic!!)

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, a lot of angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ Summary: you surely couldn't expect your first ever relationship to be so toxic, you find yourself slowly moving away from your family, but as you reach a breaking point you realize it isn't healthy, luckily Steve, Tony and Natasha are there to watch your back.

ᯓ★ TW(s): toxic relationship, y/n's boyfriend tries to convince her to have sex but nothing happens (it isn't described, it's just talked about), Steve Tony and Nat beat the shit out of the boyfriend

ᯓ★ I made reader Tony's daughter because I couldn't find any other reason for her to know the avengers...hope you like it! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You stand at the balcony of the Avengers Tower, the skyline of New York sprawling out before you, a chaotic mess of lights and sounds. It’s a chilly evening, and the breeze carries just enough bite to make you tug your sweater closer around yourself. Your dad insists you could just stay inside—“Kid, the view’s better with central heating,” he says—but there’s something grounding about standing out here.

The wind brushes your cheeks, a reminder of how real everything is, how alive this city feels. And tonight, the nervous flurry in your stomach makes everything sharper. You lean against the railing and breathe in the cold air, replaying the events of earlier today.

Your first date. The words feel foreign, even in your head. Like a secret that might explode if you say it too loudly. You’re seventeen—old enough to make your own decisions, but not old enough to escape the reality that you’re still Tony Stark’s daughter. Dating is bound to be a…sensitive subject.

The sound of the sliding glass door catches your attention, and you glance over your shoulder. Steve steps out, his expression soft as he approaches. His brown leather jacket is zipped up against the wind, and he carries a thermos in one hand. You don’t need to see the inside to know it’s probably tea—Steve drinks it like he was born in a Victorian novel.

“Thought you could use something warm,” he says, offering the thermos. His voice is calm, steady, like always, and it helps the nerves in your chest settle just a bit.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, taking the thermos. You twist the lid off, letting the steam waft up to your face. It smells like chamomile and honey. “How’d you know I was out here?”

Steve gives you a look that’s almost teasing, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got your dad’s habit of brooding. It’s either the balcony or the workshop.”

You chuckle softly. “Fair.”

He leans against the railing beside you, hands in his jacket pockets. For a moment, neither of you speaks. It’s the kind of silence you’ve grown to love with Steve—the kind that doesn’t demand to be filled. He lets you take your time, his presence a quiet reassurance that he’s here if you need him.

Eventually, you break the silence. “So…you know how I went out today?”

Steve nods, glancing at you. “Yeah. You looked nice when you left. Natasha said the same thing.”

That brings a smile to your face. Natasha has an unspoken rule of only giving compliments when she means them, so it’s always a little extra special coming from her. “Thanks.”

Steve tilts his head, studying you. “You seemed excited. Everything go okay?”

You hesitate, gripping the thermos a little tighter. It’s not that you don’t trust Steve—he’s one of the people you trust most in the world—but saying it out loud feels…big. “I, uh…well, it was a date. My first date.”

Steve blinks, and for a split second, you see the surprise flicker across his face before he schools it into something softer. “A date?”

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat. “Yeah.”

There’s a pause, and you brace yourself for…you don’t even know what. Judgment? A lecture? Instead, Steve’s expression softens even more, and he nods slowly. “That’s a big deal,” he says quietly. “How’d it go?”

You exhale, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. “It was good. Really good, actually. I mean, we just went for coffee, but…it felt nice. Like…easy, you know?”

Steve smiles, and it’s warm and genuine. “I’m glad to hear that. You deserve someone who makes things easy.”

The relief you feel is almost overwhelming. Steve’s reaction is so…Steve. Gentle and supportive, without a trace of condescension or overprotectiveness.

“Does your dad know yet?” he asks, though his tone is more curious than concerned.

You laugh nervously. “Not exactly. I was kind of hoping to ease into that conversation.”

Steve chuckles softly. “Fair enough. Let me know if you need backup.”

“Thanks,” you say, and you mean it.

The sliding door opens again, and this time it’s Natasha who steps out. She’s wrapped in a sleek black coat, her red hair glowing faintly under the tower’s lights. Her sharp green eyes land on you and Steve, and she raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on out here? Secret balcony club?”

“Just keeping the kid company,” Steve says, his tone light.

Natasha approaches, her boots clicking softly against the floor. She leans on the railing beside you, her gaze flicking between you and Steve. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” she says, her voice gentle but probing.

You bite your lip, glancing at Steve for a moment before turning back to Natasha. “I, uh…I went on a date today.”

Her eyebrows lift slightly, and for a moment, you can’t read her expression. Then she smiles—small, but genuine. “First date?”

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat again. “Yeah.”

Natasha hums thoughtfully, crossing her arms. “So? Was it everything you hoped for?”

The way she asks it—casual, like she’s just asking about your favorite movie—makes you relax a little. “It was nice. Really nice, actually.”

Natasha smiles again, a little wider this time. “Good. I’m happy for you.”

The warmth in her voice takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but smile back. Natasha’s never been the overly sentimental type, but when she cares, it shows in the quietest, most genuine ways.

“Does your dad know?” she asks, echoing Steve’s earlier question.

“Not yet,” you admit. “I’m…working up to that.”

Natasha smirks, her green eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, that’s going to be fun.”

“Nat,” Steve says warningly, though there’s a hint of a smile on his face.

“What?” Natasha says innocently. “I’m just saying. Tony’s not exactly known for his…calm reactions.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “You’re not helping.”

Natasha laughs softly, and even Steve chuckles. Despite the teasing, their support makes you feel a little braver. You know they’ll have your back, no matter how your dad reacts.

And speaking of your dad…

The sliding door opens one more time, and Tony steps out, wearing one of his signature Black Sabbath T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He’s holding a tablet in one hand, his expression distracted as he glances at the screen.

“Okay, why is everyone hanging out on the balcony? Did I miss a memo?” he asks, looking up.

Your heart leaps into your throat. Steve and Natasha both glance at you, silently asking if you want them to step in. You shake your head subtly. You can handle this. You think.

“Hey, Dad,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual. “Can we…talk for a sec?”

Tony’s eyes narrow slightly, his attention now fully on you. He tucks the tablet under his arm and takes a step closer. “You okay, kid? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“No, no trouble,” you say quickly. “I just…wanted to tell you something.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his expression wary. “Okay…”

You take a deep breath, gripping the thermos tightly. “I went on a date today.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you watch as Tony’s expression shifts. First, there’s surprise. Then something that looks suspiciously like panic. Finally, he settles on an exaggerated look of calm that you don’t buy for a second.

“A date,” he says slowly. “Like…a real date? With another human being?”

You nod, biting back a smile. “Yes, Dad. With another human being.”

Tony blinks, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he processes this. “Okay. Uh. Wow. That’s…wow.”

“Smooth,” Natasha mutters under her breath, earning a sharp look from Tony.

“Hey, this is new territory for me, okay?” he says, throwing his hands up. Then he looks back at you, his expression softening. “So…was it, uh, a good date?”

You nod, your smile growing. “Yeah. It was really good.”

Tony’s shoulders relax just a little, and he exhales deeply. “Well…okay then. I mean, I’m not thrilled about the idea of anyone dating my kid, but…if it makes you happy, I guess I can live with it.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you say, your chest warming at his reluctant acceptance.

Tony points a finger at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But if they hurt you—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes. “They’ll have to answer to Iron Man.”

“Damn right,” Tony mutters, crossing his arms.

Steve chuckles softly, and even Natasha smirks. The moment feels lighter now, the tension dissolving into something warmer. You’re grateful for all of them—for the way they care about you, even if they show it in different ways.

It starts off innocently enough—your dad, Steve, and Natasha notice you slipping out of the tower more frequently, a spring in your step that wasn’t there before. At first, it’s just occasional comments from Tony about how you’re never around for movie nights anymore. “What, did I miss the part where you developed an actual social life?” he teases one evening as you grab your jacket.

You laugh, tossing him a mock glare. “I can’t stay cooped up in here all the time, Dad.”

Steve, who’s nursing a mug of tea on the couch, raises an eyebrow. “Going out again?”

“Yep,” you say, popping the “p” as you wrap a scarf around your neck. “Just meeting Neil for coffee.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but the corner of his mouth twitches in a small, approving smile. Natasha, who’s sprawled out on the other end of the couch, smirks as she flips through a magazine. “Careful, Rogers. If you keep smiling like that, you might give her the impression you approve.”

Steve chuckles softly. “Nothing wrong with coffee,” he says, shooting you a glance. “Just don’t forget you’ve got a curfew.”

“Got it, Captain,” you say with a mock salute, before waving goodbye to all three of them.

The dates with Neil are simple but sweet. He’s the kind of guy who knows how to make you laugh with ease, and there’s an earnestness about him that feels refreshing. He takes you to hole-in-the-wall coffee shops and quiet parks, and once, on a particularly crisp Saturday afternoon, he surprises you with tickets to a small indie concert. You spend the evening swaying to the music, his hand warm in yours, and it feels like something out of a movie.

At first, everything about him feels easy. He listens when you talk about your hobbies, laughs at your corny jokes, and doesn’t seem fazed at all by the fact that your dad is Iron Man. “Honestly,” he says on your third date, over a shared plate of fries, “I think it’s cool. But, like…you’re way cooler than him.”

The compliment makes your cheeks flush, and you try to wave it off. “You haven’t seen him in action.”

Neil just grins. “I don’t need to. I’ve seen you.”

The day you officially start dating, you decide it’s time to tell your family. You’ve been tiptoeing around the subject for weeks now, but after Neil asks you to be his girlfriend (under a canopy of string lights at a rooftop café, no less), you know you can’t put it off any longer.

That evening, after dinner, you gather your dad, Steve, and Natasha in the living room. Tony is halfway through a snarky comment about how dramatic this all feels when you blurt out, “Neil and I are officially dating.”

The room goes quiet for a moment as the words sink in. Then:

“Oh, boy,” Tony says, sinking back into the couch like he’s just been hit by a freight train.

Steve smiles gently. “Congratulations,” he says, his tone warm and sincere. “That’s a big step.”

Natasha leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Took him long enough to ask, huh?”

You laugh, relieved by their reactions. Tony, however, isn’t quite done processing. “Officially dating,” he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. “Like…holding hands and calling each other ‘babe’ and all that?”

“Dad,” you groan, but Natasha snickers.

Tony looks at you, his expression softening despite his obvious discomfort. “As long as he treats you right, kid. That’s all I care about.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you say, your chest warming.

The first few weeks of the relationship are, for the most part, smooth sailing. Neil is attentive, sweet, and always quick to text you good morning or tell you how much he misses you when you’re apart. You’re still figuring out how to navigate the dynamics of dating, but it’s new and exciting, and you’re grateful to have someone who seems so genuinely into you.

Your family adjusts to the new normal, though Tony is predictably overbearing at times. He insists on knowing where you’re going and when you’ll be back, and he may or may not have threatened to run a background check on Neil. (“It’s just a precaution,” he says when you confront him about it. “You can never be too careful.”)

Steve and Natasha are more laid-back, though you catch Steve watching you with a subtle but protective glint in his eye whenever you mention Neil. Natasha, on the other hand, seems to find the whole thing endlessly amusing. “You’re growing up so fast,” she teases one day, ruffling your hair like you’re ten years old.

But then, slowly—so slowly you almost don’t notice—it starts to change.

It’s subtle at first. Neil’s texts become more frequent, and he starts asking more questions about your plans. “Who are you with?” he’ll ask when you mention hanging out with your dad or the others. “How long will you be gone?”

At first, you chalk it up to him being curious. After all, he’s never been shy about asking questions about your life. But then, one evening, you’re at dinner with your dad, Steve, and Natasha when your phone buzzes with a text from Neil. You glance at the screen, intending to answer later, but the next text comes almost immediately.

Neil: Why aren’t you answering? Neil: Are you mad at me? Neil: Hello???

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks, noticing the frown on your face.

“Yeah,” you say quickly, putting your phone down. “Just Neil.”

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press. You’re grateful for that.

When you finally call Neil later that night, he sounds almost frantic. “I thought you were ignoring me,” he says, his tone clipped.

“I was at dinner with my family,” you explain, trying to keep your voice calm. “I wasn’t ignoring you.”

There’s a pause before he sighs. “Okay. Sorry. I just…I guess I got in my head.”

You brush it off as a one-time thing. Everyone has off days, right?

But it doesn’t stop there. Neil starts showing up unannounced, calling you at odd hours, and getting annoyed when you don’t respond to his texts right away. Once, when you mention going to a movie with Natasha, he frowns and says, “Do you really have to hang out with her all the time?”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but his expression doesn’t change.

“She’s like my older sister,” you say, confused. “Of course I’m going to hang out with her.”

Neil doesn’t argue, but his mood stays sour for the rest of the evening.

The subtle possessiveness becomes harder to ignore, but you don’t tell anyone. Part of you worries they’ll overreact, especially your dad, and you don’t want to blow things out of proportion. Besides, Neil’s still sweet most of the time, and when you’re with him, it’s easy to convince yourself that the bad moments aren’t that bad.

Neil’s anger starts small, creeping into your relationship in ways you don’t immediately recognize. At first, it’s just a comment here and there, usually disguised as a joke.

“You’re always hanging out with Steve,” he says one afternoon over the phone. “You’re closer to him than me sometimes. Should I be jealous?”

You laugh nervously, brushing it off. “Neil, come on. Steve’s like another dad to me. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says quickly, but there’s a sharp edge to his tone that makes your stomach twist. “It’s just weird, don’t you think? How much time you spend with him?”

The words linger in your mind long after the conversation ends. You tell yourself he’s just being insecure—maybe he doesn’t fully understand the dynamic you have with Steve. You don’t bring it up again, and for a while, things seem to go back to normal.

But the comments don’t stop. They build, slowly, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

One evening, after a particularly long day at school, you come home to find Steve in the kitchen, rolling out dough for one of his homemade pies. The scent of cinnamon and apples fills the air, and you instantly feel lighter.

“Rough day?” he asks, glancing up as you drop your bag by the counter.

“Kind of,” you admit, sliding onto a stool. “But it’s better now. What are you making?”

“Apple pie,” he says, smiling. “Want to help?”

You spend the next hour laughing and chatting as you help Steve prepare the pie. He tells you stories from his pre-serum days, and you tease him about his old-fashioned tastes. By the time the pie is in the oven, you feel lighter than you have all day.

Later that evening, when you’re curled up in your room with a slice of pie, Neil calls. You answer with a smile, happy to hear his voice, but the conversation takes a turn almost immediately.

“So, what’d you do after school?” he asks casually.

“Not much,” you say. “I hung out with Steve for a bit. We baked a pie together.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. When Neil speaks again, his voice is tight. “You didn’t mention you were going to hang out with him.”

You blink, caught off guard. “I didn’t think I needed to? It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“Yeah, but…” He exhales sharply, and you can almost hear the irritation in his breath. “Don’t you think it’s kind of weird? How much time you spend with him?”

You frown, gripping the phone tighter. “What’s weird about it? He’s like family, Neil.”

“I know, but he’s not really your family,” Neil snaps. “It’s just…I don’t get why you’d rather hang out with him than me.”

“That’s not what this is about,” you say, your voice rising defensively. “I see you at school and on the weekends. Steve’s been part of my life for years.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I want to be the one you turn to,” Neil says, his voice cold. “Not some guy who’s old enough to be your grandpa.”

The comment stings, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. When Neil finally sighs and mutters an apology, you force yourself to let it go. But the conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth, one you can’t quite shake.

The pattern repeats itself in the weeks that follow. Every time you mention Steve—whether it’s grabbing coffee with him after school or sparring with him in the gym—Neil’s mood shifts. His comments become sharper, his jealousy more pronounced.

“Does he really need to spend that much time with you?” Neil says one day, his tone accusatory. “I mean, you’re not a kid anymore.”

“It’s not like that,” you insist, your frustration growing. “Steve’s just…he’s always been there for me. I don’t know why you’re making this such a big deal.”

“Because it is a big deal!” Neil snaps. “I’m your boyfriend, Y/N. I should be the one you go to for everything.”

You fall silent, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Part of you wants to argue, to tell him he’s being unreasonable, but another part of you—one that’s growing louder—worries that maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re spending too much time with Steve. Maybe Neil has a reason to feel this way.

Gradually, you start to pull away from Steve. It’s not a conscious decision at first—it’s small things, like skipping your usual coffee runs or cutting your gym sessions short. But the distance grows, and you can see the confusion in Steve’s eyes every time you make an excuse to leave.

“Everything okay?” he asks one day, after you abruptly cancel your plans to watch a movie together.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you say, forcing a smile. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”

Steve doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. He never does.

Neil, on the other hand, seems pleased with the shift. He doesn’t say it outright, but you can tell by the way his mood improves whenever you don’t mention Steve. The praise he gives you feels like a reward, a validation that you’re doing something right.

“You’ve been so much more present lately,” Neil says one afternoon as you sit together at the park. “It feels good, you know? Like we’re finally putting us first.”

You smile weakly, but his words leave a sour feeling in your chest. You don’t tell him how much you miss Steve, or how guilty you feel for pulling away from him. Instead, you push the feelings aside, convincing yourself that this is what a healthy relationship looks like—making sacrifices for each other.

But as the weeks turn into months, Neil’s behavior grows more erratic. His jealousy isn’t just limited to Steve anymore. He starts questioning every aspect of your life—who you’re with, what you’re doing, why you didn’t answer his call immediately.

“Why didn’t you text me back right away?” he demands one evening after school.

“I was in the middle of class,” you explain, your voice tight. “I couldn’t exactly pull out my phone.”

“Right,” Neil says bitterly. “Or maybe you just didn’t want to talk to me.”

The accusation stings, and for a moment, you feel a surge of anger. “That’s not fair, Neil,” you say, your voice trembling. “You know I care about you.”

“Then prove it,” he says, his voice low. “Stop making me feel like I’m second place.”

The relationship starts to weigh on you in ways you don’t fully understand. You’re tired all the time, your mind constantly racing with ways to keep Neil happy. You don’t laugh as much anymore, and the easy joy you used to feel around your family has been replaced with a gnawing sense of guilt.

One evening, as you sit on the balcony staring out at the city lights, Steve steps out to join you. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stands beside you, his presence a quiet comfort.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he says finally, his voice gentle. “Is everything okay?”

Your throat tightens, and you nod quickly. “Yeah. Just…busy, I guess.”

Steve doesn’t look convinced. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. You’re too afraid of what he’ll say—of what he’ll do if he finds out how Neil’s been treating you. So you force a smile and say, “I know. Thanks, Steve.”

But as he walks back inside, you can’t help but feel like you’re losing something important—something you might never get back.

Neil’s anger becomes a regular feature of your relationship, simmering beneath the surface and boiling over at the most unexpected times. The restrictions on where and when you can see each other seem to fuel his frustration, and Tony’s firm refusal to let Neil visit the tower or for you to go to his house is an endless source of tension.

“Why won’t he let me come over?” Neil demands one day as you sit together under a tree on the school lawn. His voice is sharp, his fingers digging into the grass. “What’s his problem?”

You sigh, knowing the conversation is heading somewhere dangerous. “It’s not about you, Neil. My dad just…he’s overprotective. He doesn’t think it’s the right time.”

Neil scoffs, his expression twisting with disbelief. “Not the right time? It’s been four months, Y/N. What does he think I’m gonna do? Rob the place?”

“No, it’s not like that,” you say quickly, feeling a familiar anxiety creep into your chest. “He’s like that with everyone. He even monitors my other friends sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s different with me, isn’t it?” Neil snaps. “He doesn’t want me around. I can feel it.”

You try to reassure him, but his words plant a seed of doubt in your mind. Maybe Neil has a point. Maybe Tony is being unreasonable.

Later that evening, as you sit across from your dad at the dinner table, you gather your courage. Natasha and Steve aren’t there—they’re on a mission—so it’s just the two of you. The timing feels perfect.

“Dad,” you start hesitantly, fiddling with your fork. “Can we talk about something?”

Tony looks up from his plate, raising an eyebrow. “Sure. What’s up, kid?”

“It’s about Neil,” you say carefully. “I was thinking…maybe it’s time you let him come over. Just once. I mean, it’s been a few months, and he really wants to meet you properly.”

Tony sets his fork down, his expression unreadable. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know, but—”

“No,” he says firmly, cutting you off. “I’m not budging on this. You’re seventeen. It’s too soon for him to be coming over here, and honestly, I don’t like the idea of you going to his house either.”

Your chest tightens with frustration. “Why not? You don’t even know him! He’s not some random guy off the street—he’s my boyfriend.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m being careful,” Tony says, his tone calm but resolute. “It’s my job to protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” you snap, your voice louder than you intended. “You’re being unfair. Other people my age don’t have these kinds of rules. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

Tony blinks, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “Y/N, I’m not trying to make things hard for you. I’m trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need you to control every aspect of my life,” you say, tears pricking at your eyes. “I just want to feel normal for once.”

Tony exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, kid, but my answer’s still no. This isn’t up for debate.”

The fight ends with you storming off to your room, slamming the door behind you. You bury your face in your pillow, your chest heaving with anger and frustration.

When you tell Neil about the argument the next day, he’s less sympathetic than you expect.

“See?” he says bitterly. “I told you he doesn’t want me around. He’s doing everything he can to keep us apart.”

“That’s not true,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction. “He’s just…he’s overprotective. It’s who he is.”

Neil shakes his head, his jaw tight. “No, Y/N. This isn’t normal. He’s controlling you, and you’re letting him.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. Neil’s expression softens slightly, and he reaches for your hand.

“Look,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I just want us to be able to spend time together without all these rules. Is that so much to ask?”

“No,” you whisper, guilt twisting in your stomach. “It’s not.”

A few days later, Neil brings up an idea that makes your heart race.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says as the two of you sit in the back corner of the school library. “What if we just…do it anyway?”

“Do what?” you ask, confused.

“What your dad doesn’t want,” Neil says, leaning closer. “You tell him we’re going to the park or something, but instead, you come to my house. Just for a little while. He’ll never know.”

Your stomach churns at the suggestion. “I don’t know, Neil. Lying to my dad…”

“Come on, Y/N,” Neil says, his tone insistent. “We’re not kids. We shouldn’t have to sneak around just to see each other. Besides, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. It’s just one afternoon.”

You hesitate, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Neil’s frustration is palpable, and you can feel your resolve weakening.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just this once.”

The day of the lie arrives, and you tell Tony you’re going to the park for a date. He doesn’t question it—by now, you’ve been dating Neil for four months, and these outings have become routine. You feel a pang of guilt as you walk out the door, but you shove it down, convincing yourself it’s no big deal.

Neil picks you up a few blocks away, a triumphant grin on his face. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You force a smile, but the guilt gnaws at you as he drives to his house. It’s small and a little run-down, but Neil doesn’t seem to notice—or care. He leads you inside, his hand gripping yours tightly.

“Welcome to my kingdom,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing to the cramped living room.

You laugh weakly, your nerves making it hard to fully relax. As the afternoon goes on, Neil seems in his element, showing you around and talking about his favorite memories from growing up in the house. But something about the situation feels off—like you’re walking a tightrope, one wrong move away from disaster.

When you return to the tower later that evening, Tony is waiting for you in the living room. The sight of him makes your stomach drop, and you can tell immediately that something is wrong.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “How was the park?”

“It was fine,” you say quickly, your voice higher than usual. “We just walked around for a bit.”

Tony’s gaze narrows, and you know he doesn’t believe you. “Funny. Because FRIDAY said your tracker was nowhere near the park.”

Your heart stops. You’d completely forgotten about the tracker Tony insisted on installing in your phone for safety reasons.

“Care to explain?” he asks, his voice calm but dangerous.

You stumble over your words, trying to come up with an excuse, but it’s no use. Tony’s expression hardens as he pieces everything together.

“You lied to me,” he says, his voice quieter now. “You went to his house, didn’t you?”

Tears fill your eyes as you nod, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Dad. I just…I didn’t know what else to do. Neil said—”

“Neil said?” Tony interrupts, his voice rising. “You let some teenage boy manipulate you into going behind my back? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Y/N,” Tony says, cutting you off. “I told you no for a reason. Do you think I enjoy being the bad guy? I’m trying to protect you, and this is how you repay me?”

The guilt crashes over you like a tidal wave, and you can’t stop the tears from spilling over. “I’m sorry,” you whisper again, but the words feel hollow.

Tony sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Go to your room. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

You don’t argue. You don’t have the energy to. As you retreat to your room, the weight of everything—Neil’s anger, your dad’s disappointment, your own shame—presses down on you, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

The door to your room feels like a barrier, heavy and suffocating as you lean against it, tears spilling down your cheeks. The fight with your dad replays in your head on an endless loop, his disappointment cutting deeper than any argument you’ve ever had with him before. You don’t know how to fix it—not when you’re still grappling with your own guilt and confusion. The memory of Neil’s behavior at his house earlier in the day keeps creeping in, too, making the ache in your chest even worse.

You curl up on your bed, clutching a pillow tightly as sobs wrack your body. You feel so alone—isolated from the people who love you, from the person you used to be. The past few months with Neil have drained you in ways you hadn’t even realized until now.

Meanwhile, Tony paces the living room, running a hand through his hair for the tenth time. His face is a storm cloud of emotions—anger, frustration, fear. He thought he was protecting you, but now it’s clear that something deeper is going on. Something he didn’t see.

When Natasha and Steve arrive back from their mission and walk through the door, Tony barely waits for them to set their bags down.

“Nat, Steve,” he calls, his voice sharp and urgent. “We’ve got a problem.”

Natasha exchanges a glance with Steve before they both step into the living room. “What’s going on?” she asks, her tone immediately serious.

Tony exhales sharply, running both hands through his hair now. “It’s Y/N. She lied to me today—said she was going to the park with Neil, but FRIDAY tracked her to his house. She’s never lied to me like that before.”

Steve frowns, his brow furrowing with concern. “She went to his house? Alone? Tony, that doesn’t sound like her.”

“I know,” Tony snaps, his frustration spilling over. “That’s what worries me. Something’s going on with this kid, and I don’t like it. I could tell she was upset, but she wouldn’t tell me why.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow, her instincts kicking in. “Where is she now?”

“In her room,” Tony says, his voice softer now. “Crying.”

Without another word, Natasha heads toward your room, her expression unreadable. Steve looks at Tony, his concern deepening. “You think this Neil kid’s bad news?”

“I don’t just think it,” Tony says grimly. “I know it.”

Natasha knocks lightly on your door before opening it, finding you curled up on your bed, your face buried in your pillow. The sight makes her heart ache. She’s always had a soft spot for you, and seeing you like this—broken and vulnerable—ignites a protective fire inside her.

“Hey, kid,” she says gently, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “Can I sit?”

You sniffle and nod, not looking up. Natasha sits on the edge of the bed, her presence warm and steady. She doesn’t say anything at first, just rests a comforting hand on your back.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” she asks softly. “Talk to me.”

At first, you can’t bring yourself to speak. But Natasha’s patience, her quiet understanding, makes the words come pouring out in a flood of emotion.

“It’s Neil,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “He…he gets so mad all the time. Especially about Steve. He doesn’t like how close I am to him, and he says it’s weird. And every time I try to explain, he just—he makes me feel like it’s my fault.”

Natasha’s hand stills for a moment, her jaw tightening. “What else, Y/N?” she asks, her voice calm but firm. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

You hesitate, but the weight of everything you’ve been carrying is too much. “I…I stopped spending time with Steve because Neil got angry every time I mentioned him. He said I was putting Steve before him. And I believed him, Nat. I thought I was doing something wrong.”

Natasha’s chest tightens, but she doesn’t interrupt. She lets you keep going.

“And today…” Your voice falters, tears streaming down your cheeks again. “When I went to Neil’s house, he…he tried to get me to sleep with him. He kept saying it’s what couples do, that it’s normal and that if I really loved him, I’d do it.”

Natasha’s hand tightens into a fist, but she keeps her voice steady for your sake. “What happened then?”

“I told him no,” you say, your voice breaking. “I was firm, but he got so mad, Nat. He wouldn’t yell, but he…he just looked at me like I was worthless. Like I was letting him down. And then he told me to leave.”

Natasha’s heart breaks for you, but anger burns hot in her chest. “Y/N,” she says gently, her voice laced with determination. “This isn’t your fault. None of it. Do you understand me?”

You nod weakly, but Natasha can see the doubt lingering in your eyes. She squeezes your hand, her expression softening. “We need to tell Steve and your dad. They need to know what’s been going on.”

Your stomach twists at the thought. “Nat, I can’t. They’ll be so mad…”

“They won’t be mad at you,” Natasha says firmly. “They’re going to be mad at Neil. And trust me, they’ll want to make sure this never happens again.”

After a long moment, you nod, though the thought still fills you with dread. Natasha wraps an arm around you, holding you close. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” she says softly. “We’ve got you.”

When Natasha brings you into the living room, Tony and Steve immediately stop talking, their eyes snapping to you. Steve’s expression is filled with concern, while Tony looks like he’s barely holding it together.

“What’s going on?” Tony asks, his voice tight.

Natasha gestures for you to sit, and you sink into the couch, your hands trembling. Natasha takes a seat beside you, her hand resting on your shoulder as a quiet reassurance.

“Y/N has something to tell you,” she says gently.

You hesitate, your throat tightening with fear. But Natasha gives you an encouraging nod, and you take a shaky breath before speaking.

“It’s about Neil,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s been…he’s been acting really controlling. He gets mad at me for spending time with Steve, and he says things that make me feel like I’m doing something wrong. And today, when I went to his house, he…”

You falter, tears streaming down your cheeks. Natasha squeezes your shoulder, and you force yourself to continue.

“He tried to convince me to sleep with him,” you say, your voice trembling. “And when I said no, he got mad and told me to leave.”

The room goes silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Tony’s face turns white, then red with anger, his hands clenching into fists. Steve’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening as he processes what you’ve just said.

“That little…” Tony starts, but his voice trails off, his anger too intense for words. He stands abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. “He tried to pressure you? He made you feel like that?”

Steve doesn’t say anything at first, but the look in his eyes is terrifying—cold and resolute. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and steady, but it’s laced with fury. “Where is he?”

“Steve,” Natasha says warningly, though her own anger is evident.

“No,” Steve says sharply. “This kid thinks he can treat her like this? That he can manipulate her and push her around? He doesn’t get to walk away from this.”

Tony stops pacing, his expression dark. “I’m with Steve on this one. I want to have a talk with this kid.”

“Guys,” Natasha interjects, her voice firm. “We need to focus on Y/N right now. She’s been through enough without us going full-on vigilante.”

But even Natasha can’t hide the anger simmering beneath her calm exterior. She turns to you, her voice softening. “Y/N, we’re not going to let him hurt you again. Do you understand? You’re safe here.”

You nod, though the intensity of the moment makes your heart race. Seeing your family so fiercely protective of you is overwhelming, but it also fills you with a sense of relief you didn’t realize you needed.

“We’ll handle this,” Tony says, his voice steel. “He’s not coming near you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Steve nods, his expression unyielding. “If he even tries, he’ll regret it.”

For the first time in weeks, you feel a glimmer of hope. You’re not alone in this. You have a family—a real family—that will do whatever it takes to protect you. And in that moment, you know you’ll be okay.

You sit on the couch in the living room, staring at your hands as Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit across from you. The air feels heavy, but not suffocating—it’s filled with a strange mix of tension and support. They know what you’ve decided, but they’re here to make sure you’re prepared.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Steve asks gently, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. His voice is steady, but his concern is evident.

You nod, though your stomach twists with nerves. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy, and…it’s not who I am.”

“Good,” Natasha says, her voice firm but kind. “You’re doing the right thing, Y/N. But remember what we talked about—keep it public. Somewhere safe.”

You glance at her and give a small, grateful smile. She’s been your rock through all of this, offering advice, comfort, and a plan. “I was thinking the park. It’s open, and there’s always people around.”

Tony shifts in his seat, his jaw tight. “I still don’t like the idea of you being anywhere near him. But…I get it. You need to do this.”

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the turmoil in his expression. He looks like he’s holding himself together for your sake, but you know this has been eating him alive. You nod, hoping to reassure him, even if only a little.

The next afternoon, you sit on a bench in the park, the crisp air biting at your cheeks. Neil arrives five minutes late, his usual smirk plastered on his face. The sight of it makes your stomach churn. You know what you have to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Hey,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You flinch ever so slightly, and his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. “Neil, we need to talk.”

His smirk fades, replaced by a frown. “Talk about what?”

You glance around, your heart pounding in your chest. The park is busy, as you hoped it would be—families walking their dogs, joggers passing by, kids playing on the swings. You focus on that, drawing strength from the bustling normalcy around you.

“This isn’t working,” you say finally, your voice trembling but resolute. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Neil stares at you, his expression darkening. “What are you talking about? What do you mean you can’t do this?”

“I mean us,” you say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I don’t feel safe with you, Neil. The way you’ve been treating me—it’s not okay. And I can’t let it keep happening.”

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re letting your dad and his little Avengers club put ideas in your head. They’ve always hated me.”

“This isn’t about them,” you snap, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. “This is about you and the way you’ve treated me. You’ve been controlling, manipulative, and—”

“Manipulative?” he interrupts, his voice rising. “You’re the one who lied to your dad to see me! And now you’re turning this on me?”

Your throat tightens, but you hold your ground. “I lied because you pressured me to. And that’s exactly why this is over. I can’t keep sacrificing myself to make you happy.”

Neil’s face hardens, and for a moment, you think he might yell. But instead, he scoffs, stepping back with a sneer. “Fine. If that’s how you want it, Y/N. But don’t come crying to me when you realize you’ve made a mistake.”

He turns and walks away without another word, leaving you sitting on the bench, your heart pounding and your hands trembling. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It’s done. You did it.

When you return to the tower, Natasha is the first to greet you. She doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into a hug, her arms warm and reassuring. You bury your face in her shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. They’re not tears of sadness, but of release—a weight lifting off your chest.

Steve joins you next, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “Proud of you, kid,” he says softly, and the warmth in his voice makes you smile through your tears.

Tony stands a few feet away, watching you with an unreadable expression. He doesn’t rush over like the others, but you can see the tension in his posture, the way he clenches and unclenches his fists. When the others step back, he clears his throat.

“Good job, kid,” he says, his voice gruff. But there’s something in his eyes—something deeper, more complicated—that makes your chest tighten.

The weeks that follow are a process of healing. Slowly but surely, you begin spending time with Steve again, though it takes effort to shake off the guilt and fear that Neil planted in you. Steve is patient, never pushing too hard, always letting you set the pace. His kindness reminds you of what real love and support look like, and you cling to that as you rebuild your sense of self.

Tony, however, takes the fallout the hardest. He’s quieter than usual, throwing himself into his work even more than normal. You notice the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking—like he’s searching for signs that you’re okay but too afraid to ask.

One evening, you find him in his workshop, hunched over a piece of tech. You knock lightly on the glass door, and he glances up, surprised.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. “Got a minute?”

“Always,” he says, setting down his tools and leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?”

You hesitate, unsure how to start. “I just…I wanted to check in on you. You’ve been…distant.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Distant? Me? No way. I’m a ray of sunshine.”

“Dad,” you say softly, cutting through his sarcasm. “I know you’re blaming yourself. And I just…I don’t want you to.”

Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s hard not to, kid. You’re my daughter. My job is to protect you, and I feel like I failed.”

“You didn’t fail,” you say firmly, stepping closer. “You’ve always protected me. You’ve always been there for me. But you can’t control everything, Dad. And what happened with Neil—it wasn’t your fault.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with guilt and pain. “I should have seen it, Y/N. I should have known something was wrong.”

“I didn’t even know something was wrong,” you say gently. “Not at first. And when I did, I was too scared to say anything. That’s not on you. That’s on me.”

Tony shakes his head, his voice breaking. “You’re just a kid, Y/N. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. “I’m okay now, Dad. Because of you. Because of Steve and Nat. You guys helped me find the strength to stand up for myself. And that means everything to me.”

Tony’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he pulls you into a tight hug. “I love you, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “More than anything.”

“I love you too, Dad,” you whisper, clinging to him like a lifeline. In his arms, you feel safe—truly safe—for the first time in months. And you know, no matter what happens, your family will always have your back.

Spin Off

The park is quiet in the early evening, with the faint sounds of laughter and rustling leaves carried on the wind. Neil sits on a bench, scrolling through his phone with an air of smug indifference. He hasn’t noticed the three figures approaching him, their presence cutting through the serenity of the setting like a blade.

Natasha is the first to reach him. She moves with purpose, her expression cold and unreadable, her steps almost silent. Steve follows closely, his jaw tight and his fists clenched. Tony lingers behind, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, but his face is a thunderstorm of barely contained rage.

Neil looks up just as Natasha reaches him, and his smirk falters when he meets her icy stare. “What the—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Natasha grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him to his feet with surprising strength. Her face is inches from his, her green eyes piercing. “We’re going to have a little chat,” she says coolly, her voice dripping with menace. “And by the end of it, you’re going to wish you never met Y/N.”

Neil’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, but no words come out. He looks over Natasha’s shoulder, his eyes darting to Steve and Tony. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. Tony, meanwhile, takes a step forward, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk.

“Relax, junior,” Tony says, his tone mockingly casual. “We’re not here to hurt you. Much.”

Neil scoffs, regaining some of his bravado. “You can’t just—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Natasha shoves him back onto the bench, her movements quick and efficient. “Listen carefully, Neil,” she says, her voice sharp as a blade. “Y/N is family to us. And you? You crossed the line.”

Steve steps forward, his tone calm but firm. “You manipulated her. Controlled her. Hurt her. That ends now.”

“Or,” Tony adds, crouching down to Neil’s eye level, “we can make sure your life becomes very, very unpleasant. Your choice, Romeo.”

Neil’s smirk returns, though it’s more nervous than confident. “You can’t threaten me. I could call the cops, you know.”

Tony laughs, a dry, humorless sound. “Oh, please do. I’d love to explain to them how you pressured a seventeen-year-old girl into sneaking around behind her family’s back, tried to isolate her from the people who love her, and then threw a tantrum when she wouldn’t let you pressure her into something she didn’t want.”

Natasha leans in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Here’s the thing, Neil. You don’t scare us. But we? We terrify you.”

Neil’s face pales, and he looks to Steve for some kind of reprieve, but the super-soldier’s expression is unyielding. “You don’t come near her again,” Steve says, his voice as solid as steel. “Not at school. Not at the park. Not anywhere.”

“And don’t even think about calling or texting her,” Tony chimes in, standing to his full height and looming over Neil. “Because if you do, I’ll know. And believe me, you don’t want me showing up at your house.”

Neil swallows hard, his bravado crumbling. “I-I get it,” he stammers. “I won’t bother her.”

“That’s not good enough,” Natasha says, her tone icy. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I won’t bother her,” Neil repeats, his voice shaking. “I swear.”

Tony steps closer, his face mere inches from Neil’s. “Good. Because if you so much as breathe in her direction again, I’ll make it my personal mission to ruin your life. And trust me, kid—I’m very good at what I do.”

Natasha lets go of Neil’s shirt, and he collapses back onto the bench, visibly shaken. She straightens her jacket, her gaze never leaving him. “Consider this your one and only warning.”

The three of them turn and walk away, leaving Neil frozen in place, his phone forgotten on the bench beside him. As they leave the park, Tony looks at Natasha and Steve, his expression still simmering with anger.

“I swear,” he mutters, “if he so much as thinks about Y/N again—”

“We’ll handle it,” Natasha says calmly, though her voice is laced with the same fury. “He knows better now.”

Steve nods, his jaw still tight. “She’s safe. That’s what matters.”

Tony exhales sharply, his hands still clenched into fists. “Damn right she is.” And with that, they leave Neil to stew in his fear, knowing full well he won’t dare cross their family again.

[vinidivoo]

Ballad of Breezes, Winds, and Gales.

a hyuni.n one shot

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of grief, loss, and intense emotions that may be sensitive for some readers.

I don’t know when the sky started feeling so heavy. Maybe it was one of those nights when the wind sliced through the silence, and I’d sit there staring at nothing, trying to figure out what was still holding me here. Emptiness has a song, you know? A low hum, almost too faint to catch, that swells into an aching scream no one hears. I’ve been feeling it all the time lately, ever since he stopped being around.

Jeongin always had this way of making everything feel bigger. Louder, deeper, more impossible. He’d walk into a room, and the air would shift, like the whole world had to stretch to fit him in. I never said it out loud, of course. I’m not the type to spill what I feel, not in a way that matters. But he knew. I think he always did.

This morning, I woke up with a tightness in my chest, like someone forgot to tell me I was supposed to keep going. The coffee on the table was already cold, and I didn’t bother warming it up. What’s the point? Everything’s felt kind of meaningless lately. I caught myself thinking about him again, about the way he’d laugh sideways, like the world was a joke only he got. “Hyunjin,” he’d say, with that voice that seemed to pull me back from somewhere I didn’t even know I’d gone. I hated how my name sounded different on his lips, like he’d taken a piece of me without asking.

We used to wander around with no direction, climbing places no one else bothered with. Crooked rooftops, hills where the wind howled without mercy. He loved being up high, gazing down as if he could measure everything he was leaving behind. I’d tag along, even when my feet ached and the cold stung. It wasn’t about bravery or proving anything. It was just that being near him felt like the only thing that still made sense.

One day, we stayed at a café until it closed. The place was simple—worn wooden tables, a burnt-sugar smell lingering in the air like a memory nobody minded. He tapped his fingers on an empty glass, the soft rhythm pacing out his words. “Everything fades, Hyunjin,” he said, his voice quiet, almost swallowed by the hum of the coffee machine in the back. “Mountains turn to dust, rivers dry up, even the things we swear we’ll hold onto forever—it’s all just sand slipping through your fingers.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking about the world or himself. I just watched him, the way his brown eyes glinted under the dim light, holding a secret I’d never reach. I wanted to say something, but what could I say? He already knew I was there, carrying the weight of his words like they were mine, just to lighten whatever he was feeling.

Another night, we ended up in a field outside the city. The sky was clear, stars blinking so bright it almost hurt to look. He threw himself onto the grass, arms spread wide like he wanted to hug the earth, and I lay down beside him, breathing in the damp soil scent rising up. “Ever notice how far away they seem?” he asked, pointing at the sky. “So beautiful, but so cold. Sometimes I think we’re like that too.” I turned to him, tracing the outline of his nose against the moonlight, and mumbled, “But we’re here, aren’t we?” He let out a short, dry laugh and said, “For now.” Back then, I didn’t get what he meant. Now, I get it too well.

There was this one time we almost got lost. It was a gray afternoon, the kind that makes the world feel too small to hold itself. He wanted to climb a hill I’d never seen before, taller than the others, with the wind screaming so loud it felt like it might tear us away. I followed, of course, even with my heart in my throat, feeling the loose stones slip under my feet. Up top, he stopped at the edge, hair whipping around in the chaos, and asked, “Ever wanted to run from it all?” His eyes locked on mine, like I was the only thing keeping him there. I swallowed hard, the chill creeping up my spine, and said, “Sometimes. But where to?” He gave me that crooked smile, the one that explained nothing, and turned to the horizon. “Anywhere but here,” he whispered, and I felt a shiver that wasn’t just from the wind.

The first time he kissed me was on a rainy day. We were under a bridge, the sound of water crashing down drowning out everything else. He grabbed my face with cold hands and pulled me close, like he’d decided it right then and there. My heart raced, his warmth cutting through the rain’s chill, and for a moment, the world stopped. Then he pulled back and stared at the river, like it hadn’t happened. “Sometimes I think we only exist in moments like this,” he murmured, and I tucked those words away in a locket, even if I never quite understood them. We stood there, the water’s roar wrapping around us, and I wanted to ask what he meant, but his silence kept me quiet.

But now he’s not here anymore, and I keep wondering what’s left of me. It’s like I got lost somewhere along the way, and I don’t know how to find my way back. I try to remember how it felt before, when the world was light and I could laugh without trying. I try to feel that gentle fire that used to flicker inside me when he was around, that warmth that made me wake up wanting to live. But all I find is an emptiness that won’t explain itself, a longing for something I can’t even name. I want to run, escape to some place where no one can find me, but my feet don’t know where to go. I keep walking in circles, lost on a map I drew all wrong.

Sometimes I climb up to the rooftop alone, just to feel the wind he loved so much. I close my eyes and try to picture him here, sitting on the edge like always, with that look that saw past everything. The wind blows cold, cutting through my skin, and I can almost hear his voice, soft, saying my name like it’s a secret. But when I open my eyes, it’s just the void, and I wonder if it’s worth it to keep climbing, to keep searching for him in places he’ll never be. Do I give up? Or do I keep wandering these twisted paths, even knowing they lead nowhere?

One night, I almost gave up on everything. I was in some random bar, the kind of place he’d hate—dim lights, the stale smell of old cigarettes clinging to the air. There was a girl across the counter, laughing loud, and for a split second, I thought it could be him—the same way of tossing her head back, the same sound filling the room. My heart jumped, but when she turned, it was just a stranger, with eyes that didn’t know mine. I bolted out of there, the icy air hitting my face, and felt stupid for still hoping. It wasn’t him. It never will be.

The other day, I found one of his shirts buried at the bottom of the closet, like it’d hidden there to catch me off guard. It was black, faded, with a small tear in the sleeve he never bothered to fix. I held it to my chest, catching the faint scent still clinging to it, and for a moment, it was like he’d come back. “Are you still here?” I asked the empty room, my voice cracking in the stillness. But the silence didn’t answer, and I let the shirt slip to the floor, a weight I didn’t know how to hold.

Then I decided to go where he is now. It wasn’t easy. The walk to the cemetery felt longer than it should’ve, each step echoing on the wet pavement like it wanted me to turn back. The silence there was different—thicker, more real. His name was carved into the stone, plain, with nothing to say who he’d been. I brought a necklace he used to wear sometimes, a thin cord with a pendant he never told me the story of. I set it down on the cold earth and sat there, the ground chilling my legs.

“I wish you’d stayed,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “Not for me, but for you. You deserved more than this.” The wind blew soft, rustling the dry leaves around, and for a second, I almost felt him there, like a tiny piece of him had lingered to listen. “I don’t know what to do now, Jeongin. I don’t know who I am without you. You took a part of me I can’t figure out how to get back.” I closed my eyes, letting the words spill out like a river I couldn’t hold anymore. “I keep trying to run, you know? To some place where it doesn’t hurt this much, but I always end up back here.”

I stayed until the sun started to rise, painting the sky in an orange he would’ve liked. The necklace caught the light, glinting faintly, and for the first time in a long while, I felt something beyond the emptiness. It wasn’t peace, not yet, but it was a start. I stood up, rubbed my eyes, and looked back one last time. “I’ll try to live for you,” I whispered, and this time, the words felt right, like he might’ve heard them and nodded in that quiet way of his.

I left with lighter steps, even though the weight was still in my chest. I don’t know where I’m going, or if I’ll ever find myself again. The wind picked up as I walked, messing up my hair, and for a moment, I swear I heard him laugh—that crooked laugh only he had. Maybe he never really left. Maybe he lives in me, in some quiet corner I haven’t learned to reach yet. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

[thebigshotman]

I’ve decided I’m going to reply to threads in the morning; there’s a couple event-prep related things I need to write and I don’t want to start replies and then not be able to finish them in one go. But! To make up for that, here are a couple of headcanons I’ve thought of for Spaul recently! And once again, thank you all for the Halloween interactions yesterday 😊 I loved them all!

Now onto the HCs…

So Eileen’s @hxzelwallflower nickname of [Hazelnut] came mainly from her URL…but recently I realized Spaul has no in universe way of knowing that lol. I initially thought that he got it from her hazel hair and eyes but then thought: “No! You know what? He probably just looked through the source code and saw the URL when he was having trouble sleeping one night and “hazel” stuck with him”! Because Spamton as a character is just aware of the fourth-wall like that 🤣 Just don’t expect him to admit to that being where it got it from, what with his awareness suppression and everything.

NEW (from like a month ago lol) SPAMTON’S SHOP ANIMATION ROLL UP ROLL UP (cw for a lot of loud sounds one right after the other towards the end if you’re sensitive to that though). Honestly the voice work is amazing, it would probably be Spaul’s new VC if NiftyTable’s take didn’t hit that “gremlin voice” spot for me. Plus the fact that it’s not a direct adaptation of the script definitely endears it to me too 😆 But that’s not the headcanon lol

I noticed both shop animations include Spamton constantly switching between normal body language and acting out the body language of his voice clips, and while that is indeed uncanny and cool looking that doesn’t really work in an RP setting. But after this second animation, I have decided that whenever Spaul’s voice clips are particularly long (i.e “[[amazed at this amazing transformation? You too can]]”) he does indeed sort of jerkily, like a puppet being pulled by strings, get forced into acting out whatever the body language of that voice clip would be while his lenses go dark. The alternative is him standing there dumb, glaring at his throat while it plays, and that’s not nearly as fun 😄

I feel like it serves a little reminder that he can be unsettling as well as goofy lol! Imagine that happening in the middle of him talking to Eileen, as it very well most likely has in the past. Poor girl 😅

Finally, here are a few songs I associate with Spamton/Spaul that no one else seems to! Or very few people if that. With explainations!

Step Right Up by Tom Waits. This song is literally just a bunch of advertising jargon strung together with no rhyme or reason, some of it flat out contradicting each other or suggesting the product is harmful. And of course there’s the one moment where the speaker snaps about heartbreak lol. All of that over a very city slicker instrumental! Think of this as a non-fan song Ad Infinitum lol, it just keeps going. Check it out!

Let’s Get This Over With by They Might Be Giants. Once the second verse hit it was all over: “Even when you’re out of work you still have a job to do…(a few lines later) I’m talking to myself even when I’m saying ‘you’”. The bridge as well, which calls to mind his speech glitch. This one’s more about the vibe then all of the lyrics, but definitely check it out too!

The Other Side from the Greatest Showman. IT’S LITERALLY A GUY MAKING A DEAL WITH SOMEONE. WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED 🤣 I always end up channeling Spam when I’m singing this song to myself anymore

[lolly-pop456]

1. Steven Universe, Spy X Family, and that new sonic one that I can’t remember the name of lol

2. They’re purple and a bit taller than my usual ankle socks. They also have lil sushi’s on them too.

3. I adore smoothies of any kind

4. Depending on the occasion and season it’s usually a semi formal dress or a nicer shirt with dark pants.

5. Over medium

6. A group of bookmarks I’ve collected over the years. Rn I’m using a tarot card that just described the deck.

7. Black probably. It goes with lots of things.

8. Other than books and movies I like older hats. They look very cool and interesting to me and make fun decorations.

9. The ocean for both. Even though I never grew up by it I just find it very soothing to me for some reason.

10. Colors. They can represent more than what someone is telling me to think (aka lyric questions).

11. Glasses. Eyes are too sensitive for contacts.

12. That she’s big and not shy about it since she can’t help her weight for the most part.

13. Pencil. I’m a fast writer so I make a lot of mistakes usually.

14. My back porch or backyard in general. It doesn’t face anything but the trees so it feels very private and uniquely mine.

15. Only one since my wife and I are too forgetful to have more lol. And maybe? It’s technically my wife’s but she forgets about it all the time… poor lil cactus.

16. A very oversized dark grey one with a family friend’s tattoo company logo on it. I got it on sale as it was the last one and not selling well, I like it because it makes me feel small.

17. Like five books hahaha… all from different series that I have one or two of on my shelf already.

18. When they discovered Tenochtitlan. Experiencing the wonder they experienced while first seeing the city would be amazing.

19. I dressed up as a spunky dark fairy once and loved the hell out of it despite having to wear a winter coat.

20. Algebra.

21. Uhh.. I think it’s called Starry Night Over the Rhine? It’s by Van Gogh and basically like that famous stars one but a different perspective I guess.

22. Iced.

23. Love songs. Idk why they’re just the easiest for me to sing.

24. Perhaps too aggressive at times but I’d like to think so. I at least use my blinker.

25. Yep. I want lots more tattoos and my nipples pierced.

26. More so a cook than a baker though I guess I could bake if I focused more. Don’t really have a specialty unless making a family recipe is one lol.

27. Just one amethyst skull, it’s got some creamy white lines and it’s supposed to be a good stone for protection.

28. Oh yeah. I definitely do, been called a mermaid most of my life as a joke.

29. Nope.

30. Yeah. I hang my shirts to the far left, then pants, then like: seasonals and fancy stuff. Then hoodies and bras.

31. Nails, hair, hips I think.

32. One of those iridescent rainbow looks 😍.

33. Earbuds.

34. Easily.

35. When I was little my favorite was a pink dog with a heart nose named Valentine. He went EVERYWHERE with me but uhh… at some point I became convinced he was haunted by something. That’s a story for another time if anyone’s curious.

36. Air hockey.

37. As long as they’re respectful of my space and let me know if they’re behind me.

38. I really like classical piano pieces actually. They really soothe me and not many people would guess that about me probably.

39. Realizing I didn’t sleep until 7pm lmao.

40. Apple. They hold lots of fond childhood memories for me.

41. Black pepper and rose.

42. A few. I think my favorite is the pixel coloring one, since it lets you upload your own photos to draw.

43. On. Fear of the dark is really a bitch.

44. Put it in my Toothless piggy bank.

45. No hahaha. I wrote too hard and fast usually, and even if I slow down it looks like a young kids.

46. I think a band? That or a podcast.

47. When the weather is nice.

48. I mean… I prefer plastic over porcelain but that’s about it.

49. Read a good book.

50. The air is cold but not freezing, indirect air is being pushed in from the ac with a slight hum. Silky sheets and pillow cases with a light fuzzy blanket that’s big enough to keep me underneath despite me tossing and turning. Also a body pillow with a stuffed animal to cuddle.

50 Questions Just Because

What are three shows in your watchlist that you’ve been meaning to get to?

Describe your favorite pair of socks

Do you like smoothies?

What do you wear when you have to dress nicely?

How do you like your eggs?

What do you use to keep your place when you’re reading a book?

What color dominates your closet?

Do you collect anything? If so, what?

What sounds or scents calm you down?

What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

Do you wear glasses or contacts?

What’s something about your best friend that you love?

Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil?

What are some places where you feel most at home?

Do you have any houseplants? Do any of them have names?

Describe your favorite hoodie. How long have you had it? What makes it unique?

What’s the last thing you ordered online?

What’s one historical event that you would have liked to have witnessed?

What’s your favorite Halloween costume from when you were a kid?

What kind of math are you best at?

What’s your favorite period in art history, your favorite famous work and/or your favorite style of art? If you don’t know any that’s ok!

Iced or hot drinks?

Which songs do you like to sing in the shower?

Are you a good driver?

Do you have any piercings or tattoos? Are there any that you want?

Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

Do you have any keychains on your home or car keys? Describe them!

Can you swim very well? Do you like swimming?

Did you play with Legos as a kid? What was your favorite set?

Is your closet organized? If so, how?

What’s the last music video you watched?

If you could dye your hair any color, regardless of how you think it would look, what color would you choose?

Headphones or earbuds?

Can you read analog clocks?

Describe your favorite stuffed animal, either now or from when you were a kid.

What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at?

Do you mind if others are in the kitchen when you’re cooking or baking?

What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

What was the best part of your day today?

What’s your favorite kind of tree?

What scent is your deodorant?

Do you have any games on your phone? If so, which one(s) is/are your favorite?

Do you shower with the lights on or off?

What do you do with spare change?

Do you have good handwriting?

What’s the last thing a friend recommended to you that you looked into and actually liked?

Do you like to go on walks?

Do you have a favorite plate or bowl?

What’s your favorite thing to do when it’s raining?

Describe your perfect sleeping conditions

[apdsnovel]

Chapter 2 – TGIFreedom

The Child in the Signal

Before he was called Boris, before he had a body, he existed in waves and frequencies. He floated in the Universal Listening Chamber, suspended in his mother’s being, before the weight of gravity and flesh could bind him to a single place, a single name.

His mother was a weaver of chaos. She could bend uncertainty into creation, shape the unpredictable into something new. The child inside her would one day become her greatest work—a being crafted from genuine, unfiltered expression.

She drifted through the void, scanning infinite signals, searching for the perfect song.

Then, she heard a female voice.

She nearly changed the station. But something stopped her.

Inside her, the child pulsed a synaptic signal, flickering against her mind.

“Keep it.”

She smiled. “You like this one?”

There was no language yet, only instinct, but she understood. Every time she tried to switch signals, her child sent another pulse, a refusal to let go.

So she left it on.

That singer became his first lullaby, her words the first structure his mind wrapped itself around.

But his mother sensed something more—something deeper than melody, something that should have been impossible.

On Earth, they believed sound could not travel through the vacuum of space. But something greater could.

Not love.

Not memory.

But frequency—the raw signal of existence itself.

A force older than any civilization, something her people had always understood. And in that voice, she heard something impossible: an echo of that force, burning across galaxies, unbroken by silence.

Her pain tore through the void, refusing to be silenced, refusing to vanish into the cold.

And that was why Boris held on.

Because to exist was to suffer. To suffer was to sing. And to sing—to truly, deeply, unapologetically sing—was to cross galaxies.

His mother followed the signal to its source—to a planet where this music could be heard, where sound lived in open air, where it did not have to be remembered because it was still alive.

She brought him to Earth.

But Earth did not bring her back.

The refugees were hunted. They died at the border of No Nation. The last of them never crossed.

And Boris—B.O.R.I.S., the Bio-Organic Reconnaissance and Infiltration System—was taken.

Httoq – The Icebound Sanctuary

Remo walked through the dim corridors of Httoq, each footstep echoing against steel and frost. The bunker hummed softly, powered by Romulus’s last meal, its warmth threading through the underground halls.

He had spent years mastering movement, jumping between cities, placing things where they didn’t belong. But Hermes had been a mistake.

Or maybe not.

He stopped at the door to the holding chamber. Closed his eyes.

“Are you awake?”

A slow, deliberate pause.

“Depends. Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there like a coward?”

Remo smiled. He opened the door.

The First Recruit

Hermes sat on the cot, one knee drawn up, arms folded behind his head. He had the kind of presence that made stillness look like control—like he was waiting for you to slip, for the game to start.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Remo said.

Hermes arched an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to be interrogating me.”

“I already know what I need to know.”

Hermes smirked. “That’s funny. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be guilty of.”

Remo stepped closer, letting the door slide shut behind him. The space between them was small, the air just warm enough to make skin feel sensitive after hours of cold.

“You saw something you shouldn’t have,” Remo said.

Hermes shifted. “That’s the thing about delivery jobs. You see a lot of doors you’re not supposed to open.”

His voice was calm, but his mind wasn’t. Remo could hear the static hum of his thoughts beneath the surface, restless, searching, testing.

Remo moved forward. Slow. Close enough that he could feel the heat between them, but not touching.

“Say I am what you think I am,” Hermes murmured. “Say I’m one of you. What then?”

Remo tilted his head. “Then you’re the first person I’ve met who didn't even realize it.”

Hermes exhaled. For the first time, he hesitated.

Remo smiled. “Got you.”

“He’s in.”

The words flickered through the network, silent but immediate. Romulus and Lupa would feel it. Hermes was now part of them, whether he knew it yet or not.

The silence stretched.

Hermes studied him. Then, he smirked.

“You know, for someone so used to control, you really want me to take the first step.”

Remo’s expression didn’t change. “It’s polite to let a man dig his own grave.”

Hermes laughed softly. Then, in one sharp motion, he closed the gap between them.

Remo didn’t move away.

His breath ghosted against Hermes’s cheek, waiting. Letting him make the choice.

And then Hermes kissed him.

It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t careful. It was a test, a challenge, a sharp collision of lips and breath and something tangled between fear and need.

Remo let him push, let him take. Let the heat of it cut through the ice that had settled into his body long ago.

Then he flipped them—one smooth, precise motion, pinning Hermes back against the cot.

A flicker of surprise in Hermes’s thoughts—he hadn’t expected to lose control so fast.

Remo leaned down, lips brushing against his ear.

“You’re one of us now,” he murmured. “Better get used to it.”