#i know it sounds like i'm being mean about this and like i hate these people

[kingdomaddiction]

I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

..

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

[loquemevengaalamente]

Random bits i liked about this season:

-Caitvy selesbian sex scene will live in my head rent free forever. That shit was hot af and i love having some butch rep right there. Also King Princess gave us such a great sapphic song.

-Mel and Caitlyn team up was awesome, these two needed many more scenes together tbh, they're so badass

-Jinx alternate self

-Vi's style changes through the season. Pit fighter is way too cool (i must make a cosplay, I just love her character so much)

-Parallels. So many and so much foreshadowing that was so well done.

-Ambessa as a whole is just wow. That woman had me both hating her and thirsting over how intense she was. Like when she enters the battle?? Bitch is a one woman army.

-Ekko and Heimerdinger being the best student teacher ever. Though it hurts Heimerdinger died, i was glad he had found a final disciple in Ekko + Jinx too if you count their brief time in that timeline.

-Jayce and Viktor were so good. Like i didn't know who to root for because of how interesting they develop their motives and character.

-Cosmic partners sounds gay as hell and i love it. They're so dramatic too.

-Isha being the most lovely kid around. Her relationship with Jinx however brief made a lot of impact. I'm a sucker for this kind of stuff ok???

-Vander. I was tearing up with what happened to him in general, and then they add Isha to the mix and c'mon.

-Caitlyn learning how to fight.

-Meeting Vi's mother

-Vi and Caitlyn teaming up against Ambessa without much of a doubt to stop her. They really trusted each other that much.

-The funeral scene was so visually interesting. I mean the whole series is, it's a work of art!

Add more if you like!

[mvmnbnv]

If only shipping was enough for me to overlook the questionable writing choices. It would make watching this show the easiest thing ever.

What also just really sucks about being a fan of Vi, is that 99% of Vi’s fanbase can’t see her existence outside of Caitlyn. I do like Caitvi, but there is zero interest in other parts of her story or her overall character outside of Caitlyn. Even her relationship with her sister is of zero interest to the majority of her fans.

I pretty much noticed only a certain demographic of niche Vi fans took issue with the awful writing and balant disrespect to her character.

Watching act 3, Vi really felt like a side character. I had to do a double take in what I was watching because it had become completely unrecognizable. Vi’s writing was just really upsetting to me. It just sucks that not only did the show trash her character, but that most of her fans don’t care about her personal feelings or the trauma she went through. They just expect her to be magically cured and care about nothing else in her life, only her girlfriend.

Really unfortunate that the shipping version of her character became canon. When I watched act 1 I was like, “It sounds like a shipper wrote this”, then I remembered resident shipper Amanda Overton is in charge of writing her character and Caitlyn’s lmao.

Yeah they massacred her all season really. She never makes any choice for herself in act 1, is pretty much a side character in act 2, and act 3 just made me think they hate her...sex in a prison cell where one she never gets pleasure herself and two when they didn't even have the decency to explore her trauma at all beforehand. That same genuine care that cait had for her in s1 is just not seen anymore. Meanwhile they give Jayce these poetic speeches about how he just wants his partner back and it's not even romantic, but way more thought out than whatever they did with caitvi. Vi calling herself the "dirt under caits nails" too??? My god...like I get that means you can't get rid of her but the least they could do after not giving a fuck about her all szn, not having cait give any cares about her aside from what we heard from other characters, and a gross sex scene, was NOT compare her to dirt of all things...like atp i'm convinced they fucking hate her and want us all to know it bc wtf, and how anyone can be okay with this is beyond me

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi! I love your work - it's been really helpful to me, especially your lessons on horror and depictions of violence.

You mentioned that there were some forms of violence that you'd feel uncomfortable seeing used against Black characters because of their historical context. I was wondering - were there any kinds of violence that you'd be uncomfortable seeing Black characters use against others? The reason I am asking is that the main characters of a project I am working on - two of whom are Black - are morally grey in a "cartoon villain" kind of way. They use a lot of exaggerated violence, but it's usually directed against even worse villains, and it's meant to be played for laughs. (If you know the band The Mechanisms, it's pretty similar in tone to their stuff.) One of the Black characters, E., is a high-profile art thief and assassin, while the other, B., is what would be called an "eco-terrorist" (I have problems with that term but that's beside the point) who's done stuff like blowing up oil pipelines and dams. Do you know of any similarities to real-life issues that I should be careful about when writing these characters?

Thank you so much!

Your premise sounds fine.

Personally, what's old to me is the Black Girl Bully, and that form of "social" violence, I guess. It feels like the reverse never really gets addressed; particularly the social violence of White Womanhood™. But anyway, we get it, you think the angry Black girls and women are so mean to the innocent, "just want what's better for everyone" white main character who plays as the savior. 🙄 I'm so sick of that. The writing is almost never done well enough, and even when it is, by then I still hate that they have to "soften up" from "being a threat" to work with the white character. It feels like a roundabout way of saying "be more palatable or you're a problem".

Though, tbh, if there was gonna be a Black villain, I personally would like to see it go whole hog. Like if you're gonna force me to uphold whiteness as the standard, I wanna see that villain be a VILLAIN, put them THREW IT. So I can't say that there's a level of violence I won't accept, so much as how are the characters being treated in that moment. Am I here to watch the poor nonblack characters that we coddle bc they're perfect fight against the evil, wicked dark-skinned Black lady, or am I watching the protagonists fight a good villain?

But that's fighting people's beliefs, too. Writing Superman with a Black Lex Luthor is going to generate different responses, despite the story being of the same quality with the same script.

Also, just regular stereotypes in general are to be avoided. As per usual, it's all about how you write your characters.

[schumi-nadal]

Wow, I didn't think that post would get me even more hate to be honest 😅

First of all, I wasn't talking about ALL Carlos fans but about some "fans" (you can't call them like that, not after the really harsh words I received) who came into my asks when i asked nothing: I never was mean about Carlos, i didn't even defend Charles. I only posted 2-3 things related to this Charlos gate or whatever the fandom is calling it.

Here are some of the posts in questions:

After the first one, I received insults (anons and non anons, I don't know what is worst, that's what I was talking about them being younger and not knowing how the Schumi era and baby Shumi era were, (the non-anos were 17-18) because people misunderstood it (or understood what they wanted to understand).

After one or two more posts after the end of the race, it escalated very quickly, I received death threats! That's very serious! How can it come to this for a FUCKING sport? There are more serious things in life!

So, yeah, I was quite pissed after that.

Also, I didn't even defend Charles in my post, rereading now and I undertand I may have sound like I did but I'm French and I may have translated word by word what i wanted to say (it's a bit complicated but we sometimes use "you" to talk about people + ourserlves in some sketchy expressions). Anyway, what he said was definitely inappropriate and very "childish" in a way. Those words should had been spoken in private with his team and Carlos, not in front of million of people; and I think if FIA penalised swear words, they should start looking at those kind of statements.

Also, for those saying that I would be the kind of person to insult their favorite driver(s), you don't know me, you can even check my blog if you have nothing more interesting to do (lol), I never insulted anyone like some people do in f1blr. We can dislike or even hate a driver with our whole being, that's ok, for each their own I guess. We can't love everyone, you have the right to defend your favs, that's our choice too, but don't go and roast people when they didn't even say something wrong in the first place. (again, i hope those anons are reading it)

I never got haters before today (just one a few months ago with tennisblr but it was more a troll more than anything else) I usually don't interract a lot because I don't like conflicts but receiving multiple insults for something I can't control: I'm not Charles, I can't control what he says, I'm not a Carlos hater neither, i'm just here, blogging and reblogging stuff I love, mostly sports, sometimes with my particular sense of humor.

Nobody is perfect for sure, and I'm sorry if some of you thought I was just calling out Carlos or defending Charles. He may be one of my favourite drivers, just like other drivers can be yours: all of them are not flawless and we may continue to like them or not after different sorts of situations, that's up to us.

To finally finish my thesis (sorry if you're still reading), I didn't know that I would be so stressed on tumblr one day (call me a sensitive person) but this website is my sanctuary, I hope it will stay like that for a very long time but you can't be appreciated by the whole world, I lost some of my mutuals and i accept that. This morning's messages went too far and that's not normal to say thing like that, no matter how peacecul I am, I had to call them out. Also, on my other fandoms, you can share thought without (or almost) getting attacked verbally, that's sad that it's not the same anymore here, but yeah, football is the same.

You can choose to answer or not, I won't block anyone because I don't feel the need to, opinions can be shared but respectfully, I would be happy to talk more if some of you are up to.

So, I don't know what to add, have a great end of the season, everyone!

i don't know if everyone who reblogged or commented can see it when I reblog it so i'm tagging y'all: @midesastremanifiesto , @janesurlife , @gaypoetsblog , @katarf1a , @chaitalinath , @danieldrivesfast , @landhoe-norris , @eightsixtiism

One thing is funny about being insulted by all those Carlos "fans" (won't call them real fans tbh he deserves way better than toxic people): I was already watching F1 that they were not born, if you think that Charles was shitty today, just remember we had Michael Schumacher as the most dramatic queen ever and Sebastian Vettel was a little Gremlin at some points. REAL FANS WERE NOT FIGHTING FOR THAT!

[miraculouslyfine]

bombed it

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

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

Word Count: 10,8k

"You can't be serious”  

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

~

Peter and Y/n rarely fought.   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She sighed heavily and rubbed her temples.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I never-” 

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

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

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

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

Peter was fuming. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And... silence. Complete and utter silence. 

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

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

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

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

“A liability, huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

His voice lowered but remained firm, trembling slightly.  

“And I won't forgive myself either”  

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

Peter cleared his throat. 

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

Soon enough the silence became unbearable. 

“Maybe it's best if we just-”  

“I should-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reluctantly nodded. 

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

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

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

Someone asked him for directions, so there was that.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is bad, she thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you mad at me?” 

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

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

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

"Yes, I am." 

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

“Are you very mad at me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't like sleeping without you" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She cried even harder. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I could hear you from the living room” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Peter..." 

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

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

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

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

"W-what? You can't be serious”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you do it?” 

“Would I do what?” 

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

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

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

"Okay, then.” 

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

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

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

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

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

His shoulders slumped, his resolve suddenly shattered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pete, our home. It's... it's gone” 

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

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

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

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

“But it won't be *our* stuff” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you're still talking" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Old time being... yesterday?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She snorted in amusement “That was so bad” 

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

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

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

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

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

With that, they fell in silence. 

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

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

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

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

[nervouswhizkid]

i. am so mad. i'm mad at season 4 and at every one of you that interacted with my last post abt vld season 3. i know u were all sitting there giggling at me as i walked into s4 knowing full well it was going to destroy me. no WARNING??? i don't even want to sit down and write about it, i'm gonna start crying all over again

i hate that keith left the team. i have to actually practice breathing techniques right now because it's making me so mad omg. i know i said last time that voltron without lance was unthinkable, but i didn't mean that keith should leave. THAT IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!! that also means that there was less keith (and klance) content this season, which i take personally. they did that to hurt me specifically. and on top of that, the team was being so mean about keith's wavering priorities. i feel like when anything goes wrong, with lance and keith specifically, everyone is so mean to them??? god forbid they make a mistake or have personal struggles, DAMN

i feel like this screencap says it all.

guys how about let's talk to each other instead of being passive aggressive and icing people out (i do want to point out though that lance seems more sad/disappointed here than anything. my little klance heart is breaking 😭) AND THIS SCENE??

the moment i realized keith was about to walk in my stomach dropped. they all look so angry and here comes Mister Puppy Eyes McGee. i actually can't take it that's my son everyone leave him alone!!! 🤺🤺🤺🤺 i know they had a big group hug after but that's not good enough for me, they should have tied keith up or handcuffed him to the ship, or something. WHY ARE WE LETTING HIM GO WITH THE BLADE OHMYGODDDD

look at this, like??

the camera setup is what gets me. you have keith smiling with all of his friends in the background and then it swaps to a dark, yawning hallway with the most heartbreaking frown on his face. that doesn't look like someone sure of their decisions to me. this boy is in pain!! i'm also just confused about shiro being able to pilot the black lion. maybe confused isn't the right word, but i'm not sure how to describe it. i'm not convinced?? black already denied him, so why now? i kinda feel like it would've been better had he not tried to reconnect with her at the end of last season, because there was no suspense for me this time. the moment he decided to go try again i was like "oh it's gonna work this time isn't it" i get that it's likely black could sense keith's internal struggles and feel him pulling away and maybe that's why she gave shiro a second chance, but shiro becoming the black paladin again gave keith the excuse to leave, because why do they need him now? they have a black paladin, and it's not him. but to me, it should have been. he went through all of that growth last season, and for what?? just to abandon them when things get rocky?? ugh, i hate this!!

i can't even talk about episode 2 without crying, so just know that i'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face as i write this. i was really excited to finally get some closure on the whole pidge-missing-family mystery, considering that's been a subplot since the beginning of the show. as much as this episode broke my heart, i really did love it. they executed it so well. the scene where pidge lands on that planet with the graves? and they're running and pleading for it to not be true, all the flashbacks of cherished memories and images of matt? dropping to her knees in front of his grave in disbelief??

now that's fucking cinema. you best believe i was bawling my eyes out the whole time. i have a little sister and our relationship is very similar to pidge and matt's, so this was just excruciating. i'm very glad he wasn't actually dead, but part of me almost wishes he was? that sounds SO dark, i hope you guys get what i mean. they just put the audience through the absolute wringer and then they're like "oh, actually he's still alive LOL gotcha!" and that makes me really happy for pidge, but man, what a plot twist that would have been. they've been searching for their brother all this time, so you expect some kind of payoff for dedicating so much time to that storyline, but what if he was just dead?? and there was nothing she could do?? wow this is painful to talk about why did i start watching this show if there's a fic where someone explores that possibility then pls share, for some reason i want to torture myself again, i just love how they did this episode. it's very trope-y, but sometimes you just have to lean into it and enjoy, and this was one of those times

the classic fighting-each-other-unknowingly and middle-of-the-fight-identity-reveal? i'll eat it up every time!!

real talk though why is matt so attractive 😏

soo, zarkon is back. fantastic. do he and haggar just not care about each other?? they haven't mentioned the fact that they're married at all and haggar basically still acts like his loyal follower. i'd entertain the thought that maybe it's been so long that it just doesn't really matter to them anymore, but haggar sounded like she actually cared when she realized they were husband and wife last season. but now it's like nothing happened?? i don't expect them to act all lovey-dovey, but there wasn't even a single line of acknowledgment. and i still cannot understand what lotor's plans are. what is his agenda? he wasn’t bothered at all by zarkon reclaiming the throne, and even went to the trouble to make them think he cared. he got that comet and made a couple of ships, but i still don't know what he plans to do with them. also– i can't believe he killed narti!! i know, i was literally just talking about how she specifically frustrated me, but i was so not expecting their death. i get why he did it, but now the rest of his group doesn't trust him.

i'd say that the one bright spot in this season was episode four. that episode was just so silly and gave me so much secondhand-embarrassment i actually had to look away at times LMAO is this where we got the whole Loverboy Lance and Lone Wolf Keith thing from?? i thought that was purely fandom-made, i was not expecting to hear that in an actual episode. talk about whiplash. and we got this ICONIC scene:

he did that wayyy too naturally. lance, buddy, got anything to share?

i really would have loved to see keith with the team during that episode. i can just imagine how he would've reacted to having to do all of that stuff. god, that would've been hysterical!! the images of the parasite in coran's brain made me gag though, was that really necessary🧍‍♀️

i don't have a ton to say about the final episodes. i mean, it was two episodes of them fighting on naxzela. it was definitely a bit of an avengers endgame feeling with all people they helped in previous seasons showing up to fight, so that was cool! i'm curious as to what purpose naxzela served to the galra empire though. were they always planning to use it as a bomb? and couldn't they still do that technically? they only broke the witches connection with it, so all they'd have to do is get another ship out there and she could do it again. what do you even do with a planet like that?? just destroy it?? i also just want to point out that lance said they should get out of there immediately, and nobody listened!! and then five seconds later they were like "oh no, we need to get out of here!" justice for lance i stg ohmygod and LOTOR is on their side now?!?!?! i actually can't wait to see how this plays out!! total transparency, i love atla and i could absolutely see this being a zuko redemption arc situation. it's clear his parents don't like him at all (are they actually heartless or something??) so why not join the other side!! I'M HERE FOR IT

i have to be honest, this definitely wasn't my favorite season. we're getting into the later seasons and i've heard plenty about how the writing goes a little left-field (though i'm not sure when that happens. most people seem to agree season 8 is shit, but i've heard complaints about s6-7 as well) so we'll just have to see! i'm sticking it out as best i can🚶‍♀️‍➡️ onto season 5!

[panpanghost]

Part 6 of this,

Macaque kept his eyes on Wukong as he flew away. When he couldn't see him anymore, loneliness took over his heart.

He just left, Why do I miss him already? Daaaamn *sigh* I'm so pathetic. No time to think like that. Macaque slapped his face with both hands.

The kid is still out there. If only I could use my glamour and talk to him. Come on Macaque, think! There should be a way to talk to him without having to show myself.

Macaque flopped on the bed.

But... Wukong truts him. He left my life in his hands. Maybe I could trust him too. He was with me and Wukong in the room when I woke up. But then I still had my glamour on, I lost most of my magic when I tried to open a portal to get to the kitchen. The more I tried to use my powers the more I lost them. I can't believe how much I've fallen. I need to get better soon, I can't keep being a burden to Wukong. If only I can remember what this crown is, I can break the spell, but most of my memories are gone!

Macaque grabbed a pillow and put it on his face to muffle the scream he was about to let out _"AAAAAGGGHHH!!!! THIS IS FRUSTRATING!"

Macaque let out an angry growl then got up and paced in the room, here and there, thinking of a plan to suck the information dry from that kid.

I only need one spell to work, one to cover my ears, it's ok if the scars stay, I'll just cover them with some clothes, not my eye though...

Something pinched Macaque's heart as he traced his eye. Whatever happened that day, even with no memories, he knows it hurt him deeply. He shook his head and pushed these thoughts back. If it were something important, Wukong would've told him.

Maybe I can cast a strong spell and keep feeding the crown until I've finished with the kid. It'll hurt though... so damn much... Even if I lose my memories again, Wukong will take care of me. I hate the way he treats me like some delicate flower but I hate feeling like a lost idiot even more. I have a lot of information in my brain, hopefully I'll lose some unimportant ones.

This is my only choice.

Macaque stood in the middle of the room. He took a few deep breaths preparing himself for the pain to come. He will regret this, He knows.

One spell later and he could feel needles through his entire body, he wanted to scream but held it in and breathed the pain out as much as he could. On the other hand, one look at the mirror showed him that his plan worked, he just needs to make it for a few minutes without falling or showing he's about to pass out. Easy....

A few steps to the door made him reconsider, it was too much to handle, he must stop-

*Knock knock knock* the knock startled Macaque, he was too focused on the pain to hear anything around him.

_"Macaque are you in there?" the kid spoke to him from behind the door, "I don't mean to bother you but I got some extra noodles for you. It's a get well gift from the gang and me."

Gang? What gang? It doesn't matter. He's here. An opportunity I can't miss.

Macaque opened the door feeling cuts through his body with every move. Just a few more minutes...

_"Oh Macaque!" the kid spoke, his eyes big and full of delight, all because he saw Macaque, it somehow hit a soft spot in Macaque's heart,

"I was worried you wouldn't want to see me. I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude but I was really worried because I haven't seen you in weeks and whenever I ask Monkey King he'd say you're busy or something and I started to think that you hate me now and don't want to see me because I let you down and..."

This kid needs therapy.

_"Easy kiddo." Macaque said, trying to sound normal, it's like shards of broken glass in his face and throat. But he can handle it, he'll feel worse if he kept being useless to Wukong. "I was just upset that's all."

_"Really?" the kid looked at him like a puppy in the rain. Why does he look so much like Wukong?!

_"Of course. You've done nothing wrong." Macaque spoke trying his best to hold on, this kid is a chatty one, a golden goose for information.

_"Thanks.." The kid said, looking a little relieved, "Uhh... Can I come in?" he asked, hints of anxiety on his face even with the smile.

_"Sure." Macaque stepped away from the door, holding his breath, holding the sounds of pain, then let out a long exhale,

_"You seem down." The kid said, putting the bags on the table then turning to face Macaque, eying him with worry.

_"This whole thing is tiring me." Macaque said with a little reassuring smile,

_"Yeh.. ok..." the kid looked down, then sat on the bed before he spoke again, "Umm... Thank you."

_"Hm?" What for?

_"You know... For staying, even though you and monkey king aren't on good terms." the kid still couldn't hold his gaze up to Macaque, he just looked to his side,

_"Good terms?" I'm not on good terms with Wukong? Why?

_"OK. Fine. You hate each other. But still... I'm happy you accepted our help. I was so worried you'd dissappear the second you got better."

We hate each other? I left before? When? Why?

_"Well, I hit a dead end at one point, the sooner this is over, the better it is." Macaque shrugged then headed to the noodles, he can hold on just a little longer,

_"Are you- Are you leaving once we solve this?"

_"..." What is he talking about?

_"Can't you stay? I mean is it really that bad to be around us?"

_"I'll think about it once this thing is off." I don't know either kid,

_"You're staying!" the kid literally glowed,

_"I didn't say that. I said I'll think about it when we get to it." Macaque said turning to face the kid,

_"I'll take that as a maybe." he smiled at him that mischievous smile,

_"*sigh* So?"

_"Hm?"

_"Did you find anything useful?" Macaque could feel his heartbeat grow faster, he's runnig out of time,

_"Oh! We found out its name but we still can't tell what it's for. Monkey king said he'd look into it, so we're waiting for him."

_"What's its name?" Hurry up kid!

_"Monkey king didn't tell you? It's the corrupted king's crown, but the info we found about it-" The kid stopped as he saw Macaque's face fill with terror, "Macaque?"

_"The corrupted king's crown..." Macaque muttered before the pain got 10× worse, the crown isn't just taking his magic anymore, it's trying to kill him,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" he yelled and fell to his knees holding his head, trying desperately to get the crown off,

_"Macaque!" the kid yelled and ran to him,

_"KID LISTEN! AGH! They want- They want to put- *pant pant* egh- someone- else's soul in my body-"

_"Who?!" MK doesn't understand anything, what's happening to Macaque?!

_"The- The king has guards- AAAAAAAAAGH!"

_"I'll get Monkey King!" The kid stood up, looking around for help or where to start,

_"DON'T. AAAAAGH! DON'T-" Macaque couldn't say another word before he passed out.

The room fell silent. MK stood there for a second not knowing what to do. He needs help, Macaque is in worse shape than he thought, what should he do? Who should he call? Should he just wait for Macaque to wake up? What should he do?

(I know it took too long and it's not that good but I tried my best ok? T^T. I still don't like it though but I'm glad it ended.

And yes, still no title, I don't know where this is going so I can't come up with a name.)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

some Headcannons about Killer relationship with Frisk and the Player.

I like imagining Frisk and Killer as rivals the battle of the partners. Killer being both Asriel and Frisk replacement their better version. Killer does refer to Frisk as a different person then the player and Killer seems to have some hate for them wether that Killer own feeling or left overs from Sans I'm unsure.

I like imagining that the player can control Killer their new vessel and replacement of Frisk. Do you think their are just many different players or just one it sounds like their is more than one but I just kinda wanted your opinion on things.

~Musical Anon

There’s not much information on the Something New player (or hacker, more accurately) unfortunately. Just that:

1. The Player really, really wanted Sans to say yes to the deal.

2. The Playee altered Sans’ code to lead to this outcome in some shape or form.

I know a lot of people seem to think that altering Sans’ code was similar to like, taking over his body and forcing him to say yes, but i personally like to think that altering his code made him more inclined to accept the deal because he struggled to discern and separate his wants from the Player’s (via suddenly thinking thoughts and having feelings that don’t feel like his, something like thought insertion in the context of OSDD-2), and is why he remembers what happens during Resets (as opposed to previously being aware that they exist) —and his code didn’t solidify into k1ll_sans until after his soul was changed, and Killer was officially ‘born.’

So in this way I like to think Sans still had bodily free will and agency in accepting the Deal even despite his altered codes—it’s just that remembering all the Resets clearly now and outside influences in the form of the human’s coercion and manipulation—as well as thoughts that don’t feel like his, feel like they’re coming from an outside source but must be what he wants, made him more inclined to listening to those thoughts that he thinks isn’t his as he starts to dissociate to cope with these alien thoughts and urges.

(Prime is example is thoughts of hurt, anger, and rage at Papyrus—likely growing thoughts about wanting to kill Papyrus—about how he “deserves” it—that, at the time, sent Sans recoiling from his own thoughts in disgust, shame, fear, confusion.)

3. The Player is the reason that Killer!Sans exists. Sans is like that because of us.

4. When referring to the Player, rahafwabas and killer only ever use the words “you” and “you’re”—speaking directly to the readers of the comics.

“You want Sans to agree, you want sans to kill them.”

“You are the reason Killer!Sans exists.”

“You are the reason I am like this.”

“What do you mean, tired? You wanted this. You all wanted this.” Suggests that the Something New Hacker could be anyone, and potentially multiple.

5. The Chara in Killer’s head uses “we” to refer to themself. “We only want to help you, sans. You don’t want another Bad Ending, do you?” Suggest to me that this is the language the ‘actual’ Chara used to back when they and killer weee still partners, enough so that it carries over into killers head.

I don’t believe it’s ever said after that if the Something New Player like, still actually around. Do they directly take control of Killer, or do they have him act on their will via stuff in his programming, even when they’re not there?

Did Killer break free by turning on the human, taking control of the Reset, and winning their game, he just thinks he isn’t in timelines where Nightmare kidnaps him—still doing what he thinks We want, even if the Player isn’t actually around anymore? Or was he never actually free at all. Is the Player actually still there, controlling him or trying to control him, or is it all in his head.

[all-pacas]

i mentioned this in the notes but. you know what. let's add it to this insanity: the way cameron ties into this. the way chase is absolutely, positively sure with her. for the first time in his life, with all his doubts and all his attempts to be good and obedient and do what he's told and follow the script of god, of his father, he… falls in love. and he's sure.

CHASE: You have doubts. CAMERON: And you don’t? CHASE: No. CAMERON: Well, that’s… naïve. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you. That’s how I feel right now. But I don’t… know. CHASE: I’ll wait until you do. CAMERON: I can’t know. No one knows. CHASE: I do.

ten years from now, he says. he has no doubts, he's absolutely sure, probably for the first time in his life: this is his path, he's figured it out, he knows, and six months later it's over. (no wonder, btw. no wonder chase doesn't seriously date again after this. not because of cameron, exactly: because of what all that meant and represented. another attempt at defining his life and finding direction, and it didn't even last a year.)

by s7 and s8, house pretty regularly accuses chase of being afraid of intimacy, of sleeping around to avoid relationships and connections. chase was presented as a flirt before this, but not that.

he falls immediately for moira, the nun, someone also struggling with guilt (the boy she nannied died, she blames herself) and faith and who wants desperately to find meaning, to find purpose. it was a rebound, chase seems to admit house is correct on that front, but that doesn't mean it wasn't real, that moira wasn't a mirror to his every internalized struggle. he tells her he was married once, that he can do relationships.

MOIRA: I tried the outside world. It wasn't enough. CHASE: Ever been married? MOIRA: No. CHASE: No kids. You never found a career. Doesn't sound like the outside world got much of a try. What you're headed towards now, fourteen hours a day in silent prayer, never having a family, never touching another human being. MOIRA: Just because that's what you'd miss the most. The nurses talk. CHASE: Nothing's wrong with having fun. MOIRA: They said you were almost killed three weeks ago. You go right back to fun? CHASE: Is that why you wanna be a nun? Someone broke your heart? MOIRA: No. I'm just looking for something more. CHASE: So am I.

no marriage. no kids. no family. "nothing wrong with having fun," he says, but plenty of other episodes explicitly say he finds sleeping around boring, he is bored on his date later this episode, it isn't fun.

HOUSE: Or you're terrified of intimacy, which is why you're a serial slut. But right now you're grasping at an emotional life raft. Ideally someone for whom intimacy's not an option. That actually makes sense, which I can't say about anything else you've been doing.

honestly, has chase ever really had much of the 'outside world?' he's probably known he would be a doctor since he was a child. he doesn't hate it, but did he ever have a chance to consider anything else? he has a career, but in this episode he's doubting and regretting it. in the last episode, he looks scared, not proud, to have his name on the door. he's not unhappy. i really don't think he is. but he's never had much choice either. he doesn't have any of the things he tells moira she'll want, either.

and yes it is all tied together. the constant searching and longing for meaning and purpose. moira has it. he doesn't. the one brief window chase did have meaning and purpose and what he wanted (family, intimacy, love, certainty) slammed shut, and continues to affect and fuck with him for years after; he's still reacting to it even now. ("i was married," he assures moira. "i can do relationships.") insane

Okay need to make a post entirely about chase being insane about religion. Chase's endless religious cycling. how badly and desperately and clearly he wants to believe, how much he wants faith and god, and how he can never quite - make it. Never quite get there. How he openly admires and defends the faith of others, faith and prayer as concepts, how he turns to confession in a crisis, how he still has large parts of the bible committed to memory, how he never answers any questions about his faith, if he believes in God, if anything.

In Damned If You Do, he shares his favorite bible verse with the nun. The episode itself paraphrases it a little, but the verse he mentions reads:

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

(you will suffer. it will be so hard. you will be tested. gold can be melted and your faith is more valuable, and if you keep trying, you will be rewarded, you will.)

(AUGUSTINE: Why did you leave the seminary? CHASE: That test. You passed, I failed.)

Here Kitty:

PATIENT: Do you want to tell me what an idiot I'm being? CHASE: No. I really believe that there are things that science can't understand. That there is a role for faith and prayer. But it's in the waiting room. Not the O.R. PATIENT: There's a reason I got sick. There's a reason for all the bad things that have happened to me. I don't know what that reason is. But I know that if there isn't one… If there's no greater purpose in the world. Then it's not a world I want to live in. CHASE: I'll schedule an operating room.

House Training:

CHASE: You want to go get drunk? FOREMAN: No thanks. I’ve got paperwork. CHASE: Listen, I don’t… I don’t know what I believe, but sometimes I need to think there’s something out there paying attention. So when I can’t talk to anybody, I talk to God, and pretend somebody’s listening. We were all wrong, Foreman. Even House was wrong. FOREMAN: I know.

He leaves the chapel in Damned if You Do. He prays for the baby in Forever. He gives the woman in Here Kitty her risky surgery; he defends the faith healer and Wilson's girlfriend's faith in House vs. God.

House vs. God:

HOUSE: When you were in seminary, did God ever talk to you? CHASE: …No.

Chase:

I always wanted to believe. It would have made my life a lot easier. It never took.

(AUGUSTINE: You told me your favorite passage. Would you like to hear mine? “Celebrate and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again.” CHASE: …The prodigal son.)

[pardonmydelays]

huh

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

one thing i really deeply wish is that i'd had access as a kid to the plural community and information that are more easily available today, instead of my first experience with plural community which both took it seriously and was nonjudgmental having been 10's era tul/pa.info lmao

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer laughed: Really, man? You want me to just hand you my daughter so you can take her up to Heaven? Yeah, no. It's not happening. I need you to stay here, and if you stay here, then Lilly- Avery will stay here.

Adam was barely listening to Lucifer. He sounded so hateful. Not that he's surprised. They weren't on the best of terms to start with.

He smiled down at his daughter as she settled in his arms. She was perfect. Thankfully, she looked a lot like Adam.

Adam held her closer as she opened her eyes, showing her golden irises. She's meant for Heaven. She even has little fluffy white and golden wings. There's nothing demonic about her. Not yet, anyway.

It was a few minutes before Adam realized Lucifer had stopped talking. He looked over at him, and he was just staring intensely. Like Adam was going to hurt her. Which was bullshit. Lucifer was more likely to hurt her than Adam. He's the fucking Devil.

Lucifer: ...You're more than welcome to leave. But she's staying here.

Adam glared: Funny, because I'm not fucking leaving her with you. Not after the shit you pulled with your own kid.

Lucifer: The fuck does that mean?

Adam: You get divorced, and you go o a depression binge. Being sad sucks asshole, get over it. That's what the angels told me after Eden. They told me to grow up once I got to Heaven. So fucking get over it. Look at how quickly you pushed your kid away. It only took you seven years. Two hundred ninus seven. Do the fucking math. You couldn't have been that good of a fucking parent if seven years was enough to fuck your daughter over.

Lucifer glared and stormed over to Adam.

He held his daughter tightly, staring Lucifer down. He wasn't going to show his fear. He's seen worse shit than Lucifer. He's suffered worse than a punch to the face and mean words.

He's fucking Adam. He's handled worse things. The exterminations have shown him the most vile side of humanity.

Lucifer: Adam. Watch your mouth-.

Adam: You know I'm fucking right. Just- try with her. Please. Look. I'm fucking sorry for not telling you about her if that's what you're pissed about- I was fucking scared, alright! I'm a fucking guy! I don't do this! I CAN'T do this-! Or at least, I thought I couldn't. She's my first kid since Earth, Lucifer. I can't have her be hurt. Eve and I didn't have the best relationship, so I could get around our bullshit. But she deserves both of us to be the best we can be, okay? You can take your anger out on me all you want. Fucking- hit me, stab me, light me on fire- fuck, blow me up of you fucking want to.

Lucifer said nothing, his expression unreadable.

Adam: Just... please don't take her from me. I'll stay here- she'll stay here. You don't have to tell anyone about me. I just want her. Please. I fucking beg you, okay. Take your shit out on me. Not her.

Lucifer was silent for a long time. And so was Adam.

Eventually, Lucifer only nodded before walking upstairs, leaving Adam and his daughter alone.

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[a-thousand-wasps-in-a-trenchcoat]

God DAMN do Lore Olympus Antis not know how to properly tag their shit

[lillotte17]

..